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Regina shakes her head. “You were chosen for other purposes, Arianette. Not as a sacrifice.” A dark, knowing look crosses her face. “The truth is that we are both pawns in something bigger.”

I stare at Regina long and hard. She’s willing to offer her life for this Guardian. A phantom that has created upheaval in all of our lives. A myth that with pain and sacrifice, a new destiny will rise. I blink and murmur, “Pain is the gatekeeper to destiny.”

“Yes.”

Our eyes hold. For a fleeting second, I almost feel sorry for her–this woman who was once everything I thought I should aspire to be. I want to reach into her chest and pull her back from whatever darkness has swallowed her whole. Their motives aren’t pure. They’re self-serving. Vengeful.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” I say, softening my voice. “Come back to us, and we’ll make this right. Damon will listen. He won’t hurt you.”

“Sweet, naïve Arianette,” Regina says, a chilling smile spreading across her lips. “Your allegiance to the wrong men will be your downfall.”

Before I can react, she moves with shocking speed.

Her hand darts under the bed and comes up with a small, sharp knife. “No!” I shout as she moves in one fluid motion, driving the blade into her own stomach with a sickening wet sound.

“Regina!” I scream.

Blood instantly blooms across her shirt. Regina gasps, but her eyes stay locked on mine–defiant even in agony.

“Regina!” I lunge forward, grabbing for the knife handle still jutting from her gut. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Perform the rites…” she rasps, blood coating her teeth and dripping down her chin. “Please? Send me… to the other side…”

“Damon! Hunter!” I shout, panic ripping through me as I press both hands around the wound, trying desperately to stem the gushing blood. The door slams open so hard it crashes against the concrete wall. Both men burst into the room, guns drawn.

“We’ll get you help,” I promise her, voice shaking as warm blood pulses between my fingers. “Just stay with me. Please stay with me.”

Regina’s head lolls. She smiles one last time—bloody, broken, and strangely peaceful.

“No,” she whispers, more blood bubbling on her tongue. “You can’t save me, and you can’t fight the Guardian.”

Her body slumps sideways onto the black bedspread. The knife handle still protrudes grotesquely from her abdomen. Her eyes remain open, staring at nothing.

The room falls deathly silent except for the sound of my own ragged breathing.

“What happened?” Hunter says, crouching by the body.

“She did it to herself. I didn’t–” I exhale, unable to finish.

“It’s okay,” Damon says, pulling me to his side. “She took the coward's way out.”

I can’t look at Regina as a coward. She’s a survivor. Just like me, but she fell down a different path that ended here.

Leaning forward, I grab the beetle and yank, snapping the chain at the clasp, feeling the weight of the charm in my hand. Now we have another dead body and another lost lead. I sink against Damon, the exhaustion and heaviness threatening to drown me. I try to process the scene–the chaos and torment running through anyone and everyone associated with BRN.

14

Hunter

It’s been a long fucking day.

I take a drag on the cigarette, allowing the cold to bite against my skin. I’m ignoring the fact I’ve been breaking my ‘only at the station’ policy more and more. That system worked when things were stable. Now? It’s one chaos after the other and I’m allowed a vice.

At least that’s what I tell myself.

Across the yard, Ares keeps circling the same spot near the treeline, barking that high-pitched hunting yip of his when he thinks he’s caught the scent of something to chase.

“Ares! Komm!” I command sharply. He looks up, then trots back toward me. “Feiner Junge,” I murmur, rubbing his head when he reaches me. We take the long way around the House of Night—something I’ve started doing every night before we settle in. Even though we’ve cleaned out the rats and eliminated the known traitors, I still can’t shake the feeling that something’s watching us.