The Society of Imaginary Friends (Book 1 of The Conjurors Series)

Epilogue

Within the darkest room of the highest tower in the black castle of Dunsinane, Sanguina shivered on the bare, stone floor, waiting. The desolate chamber was icy cold and completely devoid of any comfort whatsoever. Only Reaper's blood red throne cast an ominous glimmer in the darkness.

Had it always been so dim in here? Yesterday, with her super-sharp vampyre eyes, every crack in the walls was visible to her. But now, with her senses dulled by her human frailty, she realized how terrifyingly pitch black the castle really was. Gloom was everywhere, suffocating what was left of her soul. Soon that same blackness would invade her body. She would be dead, executed for her failure to obey Reaper's order. But she accepted her fate, only regretting that she'd never have the chance to bathe herself in light one last time, now that it could no longer destroy her.

Suddenly, Sanguina heard a crackling, as if the air was full of charged particles. Reaper was here. When he was angry, the air always crackled like that, and it prickled her skin like little electric shocks. Despite being resigned to her death, fear filled Sanguina, choking her. When she was a vampyre, she couldn't experience fear herself—she could only feast on the fear of others. It had been a very long time since fear had made her heart thump rapidly and caused sweat to bead up on her forehead. Strangely, a tiny part of her heart relished her ability to actually feel something again.

"Why?" The agony in Reaper's roar cut through Sanguina like a carving knife.

"I wasn't strong enough," she replied, knowing she could never tell him the truth. "And for that, I know I must forfeit my life."

"Everyone I trusted had disappointed me in some way, until you. You were different. It wasn't only that you were strong and smart. You shared my vision."

"I still do!" Sanguina said automatically, but even as she said it, doubt crept into her mind. She didn't know what she wanted anymore.

"This was the final test, and I never doubted you would pass it. You were so close to sharing my power. If you had killed the girl, you would have been my partner, my equal, maybe even more. Together we could have made my vision a reality," Reaper said wistfully.

"I'm sorry," Sanguina whispered. And she was sorry—sorry that she had disappointed the person who had made her what she was, who had trained her and taught her to use her powers when others would have abandoned her to her fate as a vampyre, shut away from the light and the rest of the world. She was sorry that now they would never explore the bond that was growing between them. She regretted many things, but she couldn't bring herself to be sorry that she had not killed Valerie.

Reaper's voice hardened. "Hearing those simpering words from you disgusts me. Enough with what could have been. You failed me. Now you will never be more than one of my henchmen, like the others."

His words humiliated and hurt Sanguina, but she also found a thread of hope forming inside her. "Can it be that you will let me live?"

"Why should I?" he asked, standing over her imperiously.

"I won't beg," Sanguina replied, her voice cold. She had nothing, now, no friends and none of her vampyre power. All she had left was the last dregs of her pride, and she was willing to die for them. She rose from her knees and stared him directly in the eye. "Go ahead. Kill me," she commanded.

Reaper laughed. It wasn't a cold laugh, but rather a chortle of true enjoyment. He had always despised weakness in others, and he punished it more severely than defiance. "Good! You have some fight left in you. Maybe you can be of use to me yet."

"I know I can still help you. I believe in your vision," Sanguina enticed, knowing that only her ability to help him would keep her alive.

Reaper eyed her critically. "Your failure does present an opportunity. I have been watching the Grand Masters closely. They have knowledge that I need in order to take my next step, but they guard their secrets well. I require someone else I can trust to keep an eye on them with me and help me learn their secrets."

"Reaper, I will obey any order you give, but I ask you—why would they ever trust me? I would undoubtedly arouse their suspicions."

"Perhaps not. If you surrender and repent, I believe those feeble Conjurors, especially Azra, will forgive you out of their own guilt for how you were treated when you first turned into a vampyre. Use their guilt to your advantage."

Sanguina nodded thoughtfully. "I accept the challenge."

"Now, there is one more thing we need to discuss. Your payment."

"I require no payment but the honor of serving you," she said, bowing deeply.

"Ha! No, Sanguina, it is you who must pay me for what I have given you. Your life."

Fear flashed through her like lightning, making the hair on her arms stand on end. "What payment do you demand?"

"You will pay with power, and with your own flesh."

Despite herself, Sanguina physically recoiled from his words. Only once had she seen Reaper exact such a price—from Zunya after he had turned her into a vampyre. Zunya used a glamour to hide his missing hand, but nothing could make Sanguina forget his pain. As if remembering him, Reaper summoned him to the room. Zunya entered, a cruel sneer on his face. Sanguina could see his undisguised joy at finally making her suffer for replacing him at Reaper's side. He would relish sucking away her power, just as much as Reaper would revel in taking her flesh.

"Kneel!" Reaper commanded. Sanguina forced herself to fall to her knees. Disobedience was not an option. She knew, without a doubt, her life would be the forfeit. No one left the black castle unless Reaper permitted it. "Remember, you brought this on yourself."

Then, Reaper tore apart her right leg cell by cell, dissolving it before her eyes, and Zunya sucked away all but the dregs of her magic from her soul. Sanguina's anguished screams filled the black castle, and their echo reverberated around the Globe. For a moment, Conjurors everywhere tasted her fear.

THE END