“You attacked me unprovoked!” a petite brunette werewolf cried, straining to be heard over the others. “You struck first.”

But it didn’t matter. Elijah’s version of events had already caught the imagination of the crowd. “There can be no peace if you made my daughter turn,” Sofia shouted back.

Elijah pulled Sofia back into the ranks of the witches, who closed around them protectively. Elijah could feel a strange energy in the air, and he saw some of the witches’ mouths moving in a steady, focused pattern. “This is who you thought you could ally with,” he reminded them ruthlessly. “These filthy, faithless creatures broke the contract and turned Vivianne, and wanted her to marry Armand against her will. They want to enslave you, not govern with you. There can be no peace in a city where they are allowed to live.”

“Enough!” Solomon bellowed, but before he could say more, a wineglass was hurled at his head. His eyes, and dozens of others, blossomed with murderous yellow, and Elijah could hear the deliberate chanting of the witches around him.

“Let’s go,” Elijah urged Sofia, who stared at him in shock and shook his hand off her arm.

“I’ll kill them all,” she hissed in a strangled voice, her black eyes wide and round.

This betrayal must be doubly bitter to her, a woman who had once loved and bore a child to a werewolf, never dreaming that one day his kin would return to claim her. Sofia had every right to her anger, but it would not do anyone any good if she died defending her daughter’s honor.

“Vivianne needs her mother now,” he said with urgency as snarls and screams began to fill the banquet hall. “Let me get you to safety.”

Ysabelle appeared on Sofia’s other side and grabbed at her arm, trying to pull her toward one of the exits. Sofia yanked herself free just long enough to cast some spell at a werewolf Elijah hadn’t even seen coming. The werewolf fell to the ground with a high-pitched whimper, and Elijah dragged both women—one much more willing than the other—to the door.

It was strangely quiet outside. The sounds from within the hall could almost have been the remains of the party. Witches and werewolves alike fled in twos and threes, but they did not linger or make any sound to draw attention to their exit. They simply lost themselves in the maze of moonlit streets, disappearing down cobblestoned alleys and over the walls of gardens.

Elijah relaxed his grip on the two witches, and Sofia slumped miserably against her sister. “I knew it was a mistake,” she sobbed. “But she thought she was one of them already. She wanted to trust that they wouldn’t hurt her, and I wanted that to be true.”

Ysabelle stroked her sister’s black hair and gave Elijah a pointed look. He understood—this was a time for family and he had his own family to attend to. He needed to find Klaus.

CHAPTER THIRTY

REBEKAH HAD NEVER expected to feel so guilty as the sea spray misted her face and seagulls barked over the harbor. Back when she��d promised to stay beside her brothers forever, she had barely tasted immortality. Who could really expect such a promise to be kept for centuries? But they’d all believed in it, and what made the separation worse was that part of her truly wanted to stay. She had fought for a life of her own, but after all this time she hardly even knew what freedom meant.

Eric came up next to her at the bow of the ship, and put a protective arm around her shoulders. His warmth was comforting, but he wouldn’t be warm—or mortal—for much longer. With him beside her, she owed it to herself to find out what life was like when you were unshackled from your past. She had to explore this love, this passion. She snuggled closer to his side, enjoying the way her body molded itself to his. She deserved this happiness, even if it came at the expense of an eternal vow.

As long as she and Eric kept to themselves, they could move through the world undetected—something that had always been impossible with Klaus around. She could be safe and anonymous, while Elijah and Klaus continued their endless work of building, negotiating, fighting, and fleeing. She could not imagine seeking more when she already had Eric.

She could hear his steady heartbeat, and she ran one hand up along his lean chest. It was strange to see him without his captain’s uniform on, but she found him just as handsome in civilian clothes. The army would miss him, no doubt, but it wouldn’t be the first time that an officer had gone missing in the New World. Men disappeared all the time, in search of gold, women, and land, and Eric’s disappearance would be written off soon enough.

“The captain says the tide is turning,” he told her gently. “If we wish to leave tonight, there is no more time.”

In spite of her convictions, Rebekah had found herself hesitating, procrastinating, checking their luggage and the ship’s charts long after it was obvious that everything was in order. They planned to sail to the West Indies and lose themselves among the islands, making good use of both her daylight ring and the one Eric had managed to come across during his studies. She could picture it vividly: endless white beaches, locals full of fruit and fish, and a little hut where they could shelter from the wild, hot thunderstorms.

But they could not have those things if they did not go. She didn’t know what she was waiting for. Someone to stop them? Of course not, but it felt so strange and unfamiliar to set sail without her brothers...or at least without them chasing after her to bring her back again.

They had their own lives to attend to now, though, as did she. “Tell him I am ready,” she said softly, kissing Eric lightly on the mouth.

He smiled, his happiness uncomplicated and pure. After he left to find the ship’s captain, Rebekah moved to the stern of the boat and looked out at New Orleans for what she suspected would be the last time. From that distance she couldn’t pick out the hall where Elijah’s party was surely a raging success, but she chose an especially bright pool of light and decided to believe that was it.

“Good-bye,” she whispered to her brothers—who had once been her everything—as the lines were cast off and the ship began to move through the dark waves.

Then Eric returned to her side, a new everything that was worth the loss of the old. The night breeze was light but steady, and the trim ship made good use of it. They were making good time and had left the small harbor for the star-littered expanse of the lake beyond. The tide would give them plenty of time to reach the narrow passage to the next lake, and then out into the open sea.

She pressed against Eric’s side, and wrapped her fingers through his. “I feel free, Eric—finally, I feel free.”

He bent his head to press his face against her neck. “We are free,” he agreed. “The city is behind us, and we can do as we please.”

She hesitated, moving her hands to grip the smooth wood of the ship’s rail. She knew what he meant. Knowing how badly he wanted to be immortal, she appreciated his patience all the more. She longed to begin their new life together as soon as possible, but she could still see the lights of New Orleans, and she had this one last obligation to her brothers.

“When we are at sea,” she said. “It may seem safe enough here, but we’re not truly away yet. As long as we can see the city, as long as we remain in the waters that border it, the witches will know when a new vampire has been made.”

“The witches...” Eric mused, and she heard the familiar spark of his relentless curiosity in his voice. “My world has become full of magic thanks to you, Rebekah.” He kissed her lightly along her jaw until he reached her mouth, where his lips lingered. The wind had tugged some locks of her hair loose from their pins, and he tucked one tenderly back behind her ear. “So, let us wait until we are out of range from these witches, so that your brothers don’t come to any harm. I never want you to regret giving me this gift.”