She's dead. I killed her. I killed someone.
Every creature has the right to fight for its life-or its loved ones.
Thierry said softly, "The cycle is broken."
Then he let Maya's shoulder go and her body slumped down again. She seemed smaller now, shrunken.
After a moment Hannah realized it wasn't an illusion. Maya was doing what all vampires do in the movies.
She was falling in on herself, her tissues collapsing, muscle and flesh shriveling. The one hand Hannah could see seemed to be wasting away and hardening at the same time. The skin became yellow and leathery, showing the form of the tendons underneath.
In the end, Maya was just a leather sack full of bones.
Hannah swallowed and shut her eyes.
"Are you all right? Let me look at you." Thierry was holding her, examining her. Then when Hannah met his eyes, he looked at her long and searchingly and said with a different meaning, "Are you all right?"
Hannah understood. She looked at Maya and then back at him.
"I'm not proud of it," she said slowly. "But I'm not sorry, either. It just-had to be done." She thought another moment, then said, getting out each word separately, "I refuse to be ... a victim... anymore."
Thierry tightened his arm around her. "I'm proud of you," he said. Then he added, "Let's go. We need to get you to a healer."
They walked back through the narrow passageway, which was no longer dark because Thierry's people had placed lanterns every few feet. At the end of the passage, in the room with the vertical shaft, they had set up some sort of rope and pulley.
Lupe was there, and Nilsson, and the rest of the CIA group. So were Rashel and Quinn. The fighters, Hannah thought. Everyone called and laughed and patted her when she came in with Thierry.
"It's over," Thierry said briefly. "She's dead."
Everyone looked at him and then at Hannah. And somehow they knew. They all cheered and patted her again. Hannah didn't feel like Cinderella anymore; she felt like Dorothy after killing the Wicked Witch.
And she didn't like it.
Lupe took her by the shoulders and said excitedly, "Do you know what you've done?"
Hannah said, "Yes. But I don't want to think about it any more right now."
It wasn't until they'd hauled her up the vertical shaft that it occurred to her to ask Thierry how he'd found her. She was standing on an inconspicuous hillside with no buildings or landmarks around. Maya had picked a very good hiding place.
"One of her own people sold her out," Thierry said. "He got to the house about the same time I did this evening, and he said he had information to sell. He was a werewolf who wasn't happy with how she'd treated him."
A werewolf with black hair? Hannah wondered. But she was too sleepy suddenly to ask more questions.
"Home, sir?" Nilsson said, a little breathlessly because he'd just come up the shaft.
Thierry looked at him, laughed, and started to help Hannah down the hill. "That's right. Home, Nilsson."
Chapter 17
I need to call my mom," Hannah said.
Thierry nodded. "But maybe wait until she's up. It's not dawn yet."
They were at Thierry's house, in the elegant bedroom with the softly burnished gold walls. The window had just begun to turn gray.
It was so good to rest, to let go of tension, to feel her battered body relax. It was so good to be alive.
She felt as if she'd been reborn and was looking at the world with wide new eyes. Even the smallest comforts-a hot drink, a fire in the fireplace-were immeasurably precious.
And it was good to be with Thierry.
He was sitting on the bed, holding her hand, watching her as if he couldn't believe she was real.
The healer had come and gone, and now it was just the two of them. They sat together quietly, not needing words. They looked into each other's eyes, and then they were reaching for each other, holding each other. Resting like weary travelers in each other's arms.
Hannah leaned her forehead against Thierry's lips.
It's over, she thought. I was right when I told Paul the apocalypse was coming-but it's over now.
Thierry stirred, kissing the hair on her forehead. Then he spoke, not out loud but with his mental voice.
As soon as Hannah heard it, she knew he was trying to say something serious and important.
You know, you came very close to becoming a vampire. You 're going to be sick for a few days while your body shifts back to human.
Hannah nodded without pulling away to look at him. The healer had told her all that. She sensed that there was something more Thierry wanted to say.
And... well, you still have a choice, you know.
There was a silence. Then Hannah did pull away to look at him. "What do you mean?"
He took a deep breath, then said out loud, "I mean, you can still choose to be a vampire. You're right on the edge. If you want, we can make you change over."
Hannah took a long breath of her own.
She hadn't thought about this-but she was thinking now. As a vampire, she'd be immortal; she could stay with Thierry continuously for who knew how many thousands of years? She would be stronger than a human, faster, telepathic.
And perfect physically. Involuntarily, her hand went to her left cheek, to her birthmark.
The doctors couldn't take it away. But becoming a vampire would.
She looked directly at Thierry. "Is that what you want? For me to become a vampire?"
He was looking at her cheek, too. Then he met her eyes.
"I want what you want. I want you to be happy. Nothing else matters to me."
Hannah took her hand away.
"Then," she said very softly, "if you don't mind, I'll stay human. I don't mind the birthmark. It's just-part of me, now. It doesn't bring up any bad memories." After a moment, she added, "All humans are imperfect, I guess."