Cassandra
The devil's eyes, black as night, examine my fright with extreme pleasure.
He's here. As Jehovah said would happen.
Samael's notice shifts to the territorial vampire that edges me behind him, planting himself between me and the danger ahead without contemplation. The lack of fear in Samael's gaze is the disheartening truth of the matter.
He's come to end this, once and for all.
He's come to reap a whirlwind of death and destruction until he's the only victor.
I possess only one advantage at my disposal, one card to play. It doesn't ensure a winner, but it is my only option, the one I must make to ensure Elijah survives... because that's all that matters now.
"You will not take her," Elijah threatens forebodingly.
My head falls onto the space between Elijah's shoulders, against the cool leather smeared with the blood of his kind, reaching up to my throat decidedly. I loosened the ribbon earlier because I knew it would come to this. The citrine slips into my hand with ease, landing in my palm. I look down at it, water dripping from my eyelashes. This is a decision, one I can never go back from. And yet, there is no choice.
I drop the jewel into his coat, transferring the protection from the source, placing my hands on his waist, memorizing the sure feel of him under them. Fear congests me as Samael shifts, placing a hand on Elijah's shoulder.
"I'm not. I've come for you."
The sure feel of him vanishes; my protection gone.
When I'm alone, hands empty, staring at the space before me, wheezes bleed from my mouth.
Jehovah, you better keep your side of the bargain, you son of a bitch.
A menacing voice speaks, familiar to me. "Oh, this will be easy."
I look up, instantly backing up as the charge of vampire's salivate in my direction. Erika is at the forefront, a stranger to me now. Immediately, I feel the frightening loss of Elijah. When I had divine powers, I had no reason to fear them, and before, when I was human, I knew Elijah could always reach me. I knew he'd move heaven and earth to do so.
There's nothing to do but run. Run and make decisions.
Turn here. Jump there. Hide down here. Kill. Stab. Stab until they're dead and I'm not.
I leap into a wine cellar underground, blocked from any of the exit ways. I slam down the hatch over my head, stifling my scream with my arm as I hold it down, trying to get to the lock in the darkness. They yank it open before I can, monsters flailing around, possessed mad with hunger.
I fall from the ladder, back hitting the ground, shooting a deep pain through my spine as I surge to my feet, leaping to the crates as they pour in, trying to escape them. Hundred-year-old wine spills onto the earth as they plow through the small space without a conscious. I reach the top, but Erika's hand curls around my ankle, pulling me back into the depths.
"Oh, God!" I pant, using all my strength to kick her off, failing miserably. Her hand clamps down on my calf, then my thigh. She's sliding out of the hatch with me, sinking her fangs into my waist. Crying out, I twist, slamming the end of my gun into her face, over and over again, and eventually the silver edge does the job. She releases me.
I dive into an empty room, locking myself inside. The paneling will not keep them out for long. Falling to my knees, I hastily reload my weapons with useless fingers. I'm bleeding from various sections of my body. My clothes have been torn to the seams, becoming pointless. I remove the dangling leather, throwing it to the side of the room, so I can holster my guns.
The pain is something I can handle. The chase, while terrifying, is something I've prepared for.
Killing Erika is not.
I've surged to my feet, planted firmly to the ground, guns loaded and raised by the time they burst through the hinges, and the door comes crashing in deadly splinters across the room. Their crazed minds, controlled by another force, works to my advantage. They barrel through savagely as one, elegant creatures brought down to the reality of monsters. I shoot for as long as my guns are loaded, relieved to see all of those instances of target practice, all of the beat-down's by Damien and Paris, are still somewhere inside of me, even after all of these years. Hands snag me before I can flee from the threshold, shoving me back into the wall with enough fury that my knees give out and I can do nothing but sink to the floor at their guidance.
I'm trapped, unable to escape the corner I've been dug into. The vampires are everywhere. Glowing eyes, bloody fangs greet me with desire, thirsting for the rare blood that flows through my veins.
I've been thrown around too much to really feel the searing pain of being torn into. Elijah's a careful lover. When he drinks from me, it's with tender caution. These creatures do not have that kind of reservation. As a human, I can do nothing to fight them off.
Three vampires have their mouths on my flesh, suckling, tearing holes into me.
At first, it hurts. Tears come easily to me. And then I'm numb, blindly searching for my blade with what little fight is left in me, although, every part of me wonders if Samael is actually planning to have these creatures take my life.
It would make sense. I've given all I can to them.
My eyes lock on Erika, vision starting to go in and out. She's lost in the euphoria, my blood leaking down her obsidian flesh, onto her pristine clothing. I try to open my mouth.
"Erika," I gasp, wincing. "Erika, pl...please..."
A roar that makes me flinch fills the room. Peeling my eyes open, I see a pale hand crash down on the back of Erika's skull, tearing her out of my flesh by her hair. The vampire drinking from my chest is torn from my breast, thrown into brick. Erika screeches as she's pinned roughly into the wall, suspended there by her throat. I whimper with relief as Damien, still wearing his travel garments, removes the last creature latched onto me, digging a blade through his chest.
Paris strangles Erika's throat, growling viciously in her face. "Listen to my goddamn voice! Do not make me kill you! Erika!"
Damien helps me onto my feet. I don't judge how much blood I've been drained of properly, immediately lose my balance, falling into Damien's grip. I try to stand again, crying in spurts as he drags me out of the confining room into the empty hallway. Damien's eyes widen as he takes the damage that has been done.
"Wha—this isn't supposed to happen!" He finally sees my barren neck, immediately vibrating with fury. "Where is the citrine!? Where is it?"
"Elijah," I wheeze, fumbling to reload. "I gave it to him."
"He would never take that from you," Damien snaps in disbelief, eyes on the door where more danger is sure to pour in from.
"Of course not! He... he doesn't know he has it!"
Damien's an extremely intelligent man, with quite a lot of years under his belt. His common sense, and the look of determination I give him, tells him all he needs to know about my planning of things.
"Oh, God, Cassandra," he whispers thickly, grabbing the back of my neck to kiss me on the cheek. "I hate this."
"Keep your promise," I insist shakily, kissing him back. "He's all that matters now."
Our dangers have caught up with us. Paris is consumed with Erika. The shouting is escalating in the room. Hearing the second batch, hoards that had been on other floors of the building, racing towards us, Damien thrusts me his weapons, shoving me away from him.
"Go! We'll hold them off! Run! Now! Get out before they get here!"
I'm terrified to leave them. "Damien—"
"NOW!"
I stumble into a sprint, exhausted, drained of life and energy. I leap through the stony halls, feeling dread move through me. Not my own. Elijah's. There's no time to dwell on it. Not when my eyes catch sight of movement descending from the staircases. I pull open the heavy metal doors, making it three steps into the crisp night air before I'm dragged back inside by my legs. I spin, stabbing blindly, piercing flesh until their bodies stop wriggling; their teeth stop chomping.
I don't know how much longer I can fight. My bones are weak. I'm not sure how much blood is left in me. A vampire's face while hunting is frightening enough to freeze your motor functions. It has the power to paralyze you. I manage to drag myself up, grabbing onto the railing of the stairs, blocked from the exit.
There's nowhere to go but up.
A hand comes down on my back, pulling at my shirt. Suddenly, the hand is gone, and I'm hearing Paris. He's shouting. Damien is already attacking the group, as if possessed by the devil himself. I gasp, stunned when Erika grabs ahold of my arm, pulling me up the stairs.
I have a mind to fight her until she looks down at me, tears filled in her glowing irises.
"We have to get you out of here!" she says, pulling me in front of her. "Listen, if I change again, shoot me. I mean it!"
I open my mouth to answer her in the chaos, but the sudden excruciating pain that builds in my heart stops me in my tracks, despite her pushing. "El... Elijah," I breathe, overwhelmed by the agony I feel in him, transferring to me. Erika doesn't wait for me to recover. She drags me up into her arms, rushing to the roof.
I'm unable to scream.
I'm unable to think, about anything, but him.
Because instantly, I know Samael's maybe won. I know Elijah has been hurt.
No, it had to have worked. He has to live. He has to.
By the time Erika has thrown open the door to the roof, I've experienced an array of different emotions, emotions that prove my transferring of the protection wasn't for nothing. I feel determination in him. Then rage. Then quickly, disbelief. Horror. Fright. Despair.
And I'm sure he knows what I've done.
"Samael's coming for me," I breathe to Erika, knowing it's only a matter of time now. If Elijah knows about the citrine, Samael should—very soon. "Put me down. You have to leave. You have to go, now."
"I'm not leaving you, Cassandra. We'll find a way off of this." She rushes to the side of the roof. "I think I can climb down with you on my—"
"You should listen to your friend."
At the unexpected voice, I whirl around, falling back a step when I notice we're not alone.
He's already here.
"Samael," I choke out.
"You look near death, my love," he says calmly, not a hair out of place.
"Because you sent vampires to kill me!"
"I sent them to frighten you. I would have never let them succeed. But you needed to be scared. You needed to learn this lesson."
Erika removes her dagger, pointing it at the Lord of Darkness. He looks from her to me, flashing a look of warning. "You would dare threaten your master?" he asks her, incredulously.
"I serve no one. I am my own person," she spits back.
"No, you sold your soul to me centuries ago. You pledged yourself to the darkness. As far as I know from my brother's musings, he's only responsible for one vampire. Elijah de Ricci. You all are free game. I'd suggest you don't tempt me to take this personally."
She plants herself between us, despite my frantic pulling, urging her to go.
"I will die before I let you take her!" she snarls, voicing one of my worst fears.
To have another person die... for me.
"Erika! Don't! Go, now! This is what's supposed to happen!"
She glances back at me, searching my frightened gaze, still drenched in my blood. I grab her, seeing the resilience in her eyes... the resolve.
"Erika, please," I sob. "Listen to me! Doing this will not change anything!"
"Elijah would never forgive me if I left you now," she whispers resolutely.
Samael begins to approach us. My skin prickles. "Cassandra, I'm getting tired. She has five seconds to leave us. I'm giving you five seconds."
"Erika, if you care about me at all, please! Go! He will do it!"
She clasps my cheek, not listening to a word I'm saying. "I'd never forgive myself."
I'm shaking. He's right behind her. "Erika... don't!"
"Cassandra—"
"ERIKA!"
She turns to face him, but the dagger in her hand is no longer there. It's in his hand, and he shoves it into her chest without a thought, before she can even make a move against him. Words are impossible. Breathing becomes difficult. I'm hyperventilating as my mind fades in and out of consciousness, as I fall down onto my knees, grasping onto Erika's body laying like stone, the blade still impaled in her heart.
I open my mouth to scream, to release the agony in my heart, but nothing comes out.
"Er...Erika!" I moan, laying myself over her.
This isn't happening. This is a dream.
She isn't gone.
"I hoped it wouldn't come to this," Samael says above my head, ominously. "I had hoped you would comply, do this fairly. But you needed to save him. You just had to... You couldn't help yourself."
"Where is he?" I whimper, caressing Erika's smooth, feminine features. Rain has begun to pour out of the sky.
"I left him to demons. They are his executioners."
"They'll fail!" I roar.
"Even if they do, he still won't make it you in time."
I look up, staring into his black eyes, his faultless face haloed by the moon. "You've come to kill me, then?"
"I don't want to. I want you to come with me willingly. Together, we will go to my brother and I will insist you are given divine rights again."
"You know I'm not coming with you, Samael."
He bends down beside me and Erika's corpse, pushing my hair out of my face. "Please don't make this worse than it already is."
"You have taken... too... much from me. You think this will break me?" I move off my knees, finding the courage to stand, and face him. "I want no deals from you. I don't want to rule with you. If you kill me, kill me and send me to Hell!"
"You thought you could beat me, Cassandra. You listened to my inventive brother. Has he told you what my weapon is? Do you know what he requires of you?"
"I know. I know what the price is!"
His dark brow lifts. "And you're still resolved to oblige him? To eradicate them all from existence? Your family? The very creatures fighting for you a few feet below us? You'd forsake them?"
"My family is spared from your wrath. Erika will be fucking spared!"
"Only if you win!" he shouts. "If you lose, I make the fucking decisions here! Come with me willingly and I may be lenient!"
"Oh, fuck you! Take that blade out of her and put it right in my chest. Let's finish this!"
His mouth trembles, showing a glimpse of fear. "You think I won't?"
"I think you won't," I seethe, glaring at him, consumed in my hatred. He doesn't have to dig the weapon out of Erika. Just a thought, and his hand is armed. He presses the sharp end of a dagger into my chest, gritting his pearly, perfect teeth.
"Why do you hate me so fervently? I have only loved you!" he breathes with anguish. "I didn't want to fall this low, to hurt you like this!"
I heave in a nervous breath when the knife edge rolls against my flesh. "Samael..."
"Why!?" he shouts, making me flinch. "I am a god! I am devoted! I am powerful!"
"There's only one way this ends... one way I beat you for good," I whisper, bursting with terror.
Carried through the night air, I hear a roar of my name that stops my blood, that makes me stop breathing. I think it affects Samael in a similar way.
"He's coming for you," I whisper confidently to Samael's distracted gaze. "Elijah."
Samael's features harden. "Cassandra."
My hands cover his that are holding the blade, but I won't take my eyes off of him, even as I hear Elijah nearing. I don't have much courage in me left. It's been taken from me, every damn day of my life, peeled from me like a rose losing bloom. I guide the blade to my abdomen, staring at Samael, guided by promises that I can only pray are true.
This is a choice I must make. I've always had to make it... from the very beginning of this.
Light or darkness. Sacrifice or the fight.
The devil or Elijah de Ricci.
"Look at me, Samael," I say, surprised my voice is so steady.
My heart is pounding. I'm hanging onto life by a thread already.
The God of Darkness stares into my eyes, pleading with me to understand him, to bow to his will, to love him. He asks so much of me.
"Come with me," Samael whispers beseechingly. I hear chaos below us, reverberations of terror we shouldn't be able to hear this far up, but we do. The warrior in Elijah has been unleashed. It's been unleashed by a desperation to undo the future he sees.
Knowing he's this close, it haunts me. I begin to weep, shaking with fear.
Fear for the unknown. Erika is already one step ahead of me.
"Cassandra, just come with me. End this, once and for all... We'll leave, here and now."
I close my eyes as Samael senses me weakening to his will and begins to pull back the weapon at my belly. I gasp, over and over, hoarsely, giving myself over to a new sensation.
Oh, God, please.
My hands grip his pale hands tighter, tight as I can.
Keep him safe. Keep him safe.
I open my eyes, with prevailing finality. I meet his eyes and shove the long blade into my body.
Instantly, I see stars. Blinding stars. The first overwhelming impact of the foreign object buried in my body, and the second, when Samael, horrified, tears it out of me, causing me to keel over, placing pressure on the wound spouting what little blood is left in my body.
This is real.
I know it's real as Samael backs up, holding the bloody blade, blinking at the stunning sight before him.
I know it's real when I hear Elijah's scream through the stone, even at this distance.
I watch the thick blood seep through my fingers, lifting my eyes to Samael, wanting to see the look in his eyes as I tear away everything that means a damn to him. Numbness intensifies.
I lose feeling in my legs.
Desperately, I search. My eyes search the roof for him. For Elijah.
I need to see him. I need to see his face... just once more.
I find him.
The door to the roof is still closing behind him. My husband is physically shuddering, eyes wide open in horror.
Elijah de Ricci's worst nightmare stands before him.
The prophecy we've sought to prevent from the very moment we met... is here.
At long last, it's here.
A/N: Prepare yourselves! We've got Elijah's POV next chapter. <\3
Oh, and if ONE of you says you're finished with this story now, I'll come find you and MAKE you read the rest!!!!