Beyond the Night by Thea Devine Page B

pulling and loosening Senna’s grip with every movement, and Senna averting her gaze and losing purchase by the second.
    The more she tumbled and bruised herself, the worse it was for the child. And Charles wanted, needed, the child. The child was the key.
    Because of that, Lady Augustine would not kill her—this time.
    Senna landed on her back on the foyer floor, which knocked the breath out of her. She heard a heavy ruffling sound, the weight of Lady Augustine’s body diminished, and Lady Augustine vanished into the air before her eyes.
    Senna took a deep, shuddering breath of relief. What had just happened? She’d been but a squeeze away from choking Lady Augustine. Murdering her. Ridding the world of a vampiric impersonator who might change the course of history.
    But Lady Augustine came closer to killing her first, Senna thought uneasily, and at that moment the child seemed not to be a consideration.
    And Lady Augustine had easily assumed the insolence and presumption of the Queen. From afar, Lady Augustine as Queen would probably do quite well for Charles’s purposes.
    Peter was negligible. Dominick was the unknown in the equation. And, Senna thought, her role was questionable altogether.
    She didn’t move, she couldn’t. She was scared to death the fight had injured the baby.
    The house was eerily still and silent. Not a sound. Not a breath.
    She didn’t care who found her there. There was no one she could trust.
    Could she trust Mirya? Was it enough that Mirya had hidden her, fed her, counseled her, even though she feared Senna’s blood needs would drown out her gratitude?
    Nothing made sense anymore. She desperately wished she could go back, to before Drom burned. Back to when Dominick was her most wonderful dream and the best lover. Back when she’d first been transported to London into the care of Lady Augustine. When he’d been an ineffable figure of elusive mystery. When she’d fallen in love with him and would have done anything for him. She’d even considered seeking the eternal bite for him, to be with him forever.
    She didn’t know how long she lay on the floor. Her thoughts swirled, her body ached, her heart felt frozen.
    What if she had damaged the baby irreparably?
    She rolled on her side and cupped her rounded belly.
    I want this baby. I love this baby.
    She felt a furling sensation, and then movement, like a fist sliding against a balloon.
    Love. No doubt, no hesitation, no ifs or buts.
    The life-affirming realization: she loved.
    And others were after her child.
    She jolted into a sitting position as footfalls sounded up the steps.
    She didn’t think twice about the child as she transhaped her body into a graceful bat and sliced through the air.

    Dominick skittered to a landing on the roof of the town house.
    Yet another fruitless flight around London, desperately looking for Senna and the child. Watching from above the faint aura of green, which signified the Keepers on the march. An army of Keepers, a siring upon siring of Tepes, protecting their own interests and killing at random to feed.
    And Senna somewhere out there, innocent and alone. Maybe not alone, if that little gnome Mirya was with her.
    Regrets were futile. The hand of Iosefescu and the Countess still moved the pieces on the chessboard. Dnitra still followed him, flitting lightly around his head as he contemplated the night.
    â€œCome home, Dominick.” Her words droned in his ear. “There is nothing for you here.” The buzz annoyed him as she flitted from one ear to the other.
    He could swat her out of existence right now. Just lift his hand and that would be the end. But there was that itchy question of his humanity. And the blood already shed in the name of his survival. And whether that was even enough of a rationale.
    The faint green glow in alleys, along the waterfront, up and down residential streets—the Keepers patrolled, and London was safe for another