Page 46 of Blood and Hexes

When the creature stopped advancing, coming to a halt mere feet away, Diana could only gape, astounded and petrified.

Although she'd never seen him in person, there was no mistaking this man. This…thing. Shirtless, his long hair tied in a single braid, dark at the roots and as light blond as Chloe’s hair at the tips, like it had been too long left to the caprices of sunlight, he was the image of a Viking warrior. If Vikings ever wore sweatpants. The anachronistic clothing did little to conceal his identity.

Diana couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome. And just as incredibly terrifying. His destructive, potent presence would have frozen her in place if his ire had been directed toward her. It wasn't. All his pain, despair and misery were focused on Chloe's ice coffin.

When Eirikr Primerius redirected his bright blue eyes to her, Diana bristled.

“You're a singer of hell.” His voice was barely over a whisper.

Diana bit her lip and nodded once.

"And you can bring my daughter back." His smooth voice broke.

Diana felt a tear along her cheek. Although her heart had been sinking since the moment Chloe had been hit, she knew this tear wasn’t for her. It was for Eirikr's harrowing sorrow, not hers.

His pain was a cold, empty void, greater even than Levi's. It felt like a real, living thing that might plunge the world into darkness, if left unattended.

"Not without a price."

Diana had always had the ability to give and take lives. It was her legacy, the power held by each Helsing elder since their ancestor had been turned. But in her entire life, she'd never made use of it. She'd never even been tempted. It wasn't worth it. Killing someone to take someone else's place? She hated the very idea. The survivor's pain and sorrow were too much to bear.

But this was Chloe. Soft, sweet, endearing, nosy Chloe, who'd only just started to live. Chloe, who was carrying another little life inside her.

She hadn’t even hesitated to start the preparation, knowing that there would be a volunteer ready to take her place. But the fact that someone would have to die for this had been eating at her. Until now.

Watching Eirikr’s suffering, Diana just knew that the trade was completely, utterly worth it, to him. He didn’t have a shred of regret or hesitation. He would do this, and he’d be glad of it. There would be no ghost haunting her conscience.

Eirikr stepped toward the circle, without any hesitation, without paying attention to anyone else, walking toward death like the warrior he was. Gladly.

"Wait.” Strangely, the protest hadn’t come from Levi. Diana lifted her head, trying to identify the speaker.

Not that it mattered: Eirikr ignored the voice and kept coming.

The woman screamed again. “No, wait, please!”

Diana had seen this woman a time or two. A brunette dressed in dark fighting gear, several knives on her belt. She didn't often wander to the hill, but she'd been at Alexius's wedding party, and a tea party, too.

This time, Eirikr spared her a glance.

Tris. Diana remembered her name now.

She was one of the few people wearing dark gear instead of a white celebration dress tonight. One of the huntsmen. As she was paying attention, Diana could see there was something else to her, beyond the facade of a mortal fighter. Something Diana hadn't seen in a long, long time.

Eirikr pinpointed it before Diana could. "A fledgling," he breathed, soft as wind.

Diana’s heart leaped in her chest.

She hadn’t seen it coming. If there had been a fledgling in Oldcrest, it would have stood to reason that she'd live on the hill, with the rest of them. Yet Tris was a born vampire—her scent, her aura, her eyes said as much.

"Maybe I can…" Tris glanced back to the group of huntsmen behind her, staring at one in particular.

The hulking blond man who appeared to be their leader nodded slowly.

Tris lifted her chin higher. "I'm almost of age." Being of age, for a born vampire, meant being twenty-five. "I was going to turn in a few months. You can use my life force. Right? And I'll come back."

Diana lifted her gaze to the stars, thanking whatever luck they lived by. This was a gift, an unexpected chance like no other. Fledglings were supposed to die before entering immortality, in order to condition their bodies for the change.

"Yes. It's been done with fledglings before. It should work."

More confident, Tris told her, "Then kill me."

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