Eight minutes later, Pam walked into the cemetery, using all of her years of training from Eric to make sure that she was not falling into a trap. Her nose and ears were not nearly as keen as her maker’s, but she counted on her eyes and her gut.
Her gut told her that Lillith was on the up-and-up. But she was going to kill her just the same, and she wasn’t going to take any unnecessary chances.
“Lillith,” Pam said into the dark as she saw her opponent’s form kneeling next to Bill Compton’s grave.
Lillith stood up, her sword dimly gleaming in the sliver of moonlight. “You placed his remains here?” she half-stated and half-questioned, her tone full of surprise.
“Eric’s idea,” Pam intoned. “I voted for the gator farm.”
Lillith cringed a little.
“He would have deserved it,” Pam said sharply. “We heard his plans for Hunter.”
Lillith nodded, knowing that there was no defense for Bill’s intentions regarding Hunter—or for her complicity in his plan to abduct the child.
“I hate that it has come to this, Pam,” Lillith said quietly.
Pam sneered. “You may speak as if you’re regretful, Lillith, but your bed was always made in opposition to my maker—first with Bill and then with de Castro and Edgington. And though you have shown a scrap of decency in keeping Hunter a secret, you’ve still stood against Eric and those whom I care for.”
Lillith nodded. “Still—I am sorry I freed Russell.”
“There’s a funny thing about ‘sorry,’” Pam snarked. “If you’re sayin’ it, then you did something to be sayin’ it for.”
Lillith nodded. “I know.”
The two looked at each other for a few moments. Lillith saw no compassion in Pam’s eyes, but—then again—she’d expected none. She thought about her life—specifically the moment she’d first been in Lorena’s grip. The vampiress who more than a decade later became her maker had been ready to kill her—was literally draining her of life. And Bill had uttered a single plea that changed Lillith’s fate: “Stop.”
It was ironic the this was the word that Lillith wanted to scream out again—now that she was once more staring at her probably death. But that’s not what she said.
“Pam,” she started, “If you are the one to survive, I want you to know some things.”
Lillith paused and waited for Pam to acknowledge her with a nod. “De Castro really wants Thalia dead—is obsessed with killing her—and Russell is just one of his means to that end. I don’t think he’ll stop until he has accomplished his goal, and I know that he is planning to glamour humans in her employ. So far, he has been unsuccessful because Thalia—well—she’s thorough and careful. Also, he has a spy—Felicia—working at Fangtasia.”
Of course, Pam already knew about Felicia, but she kept her expression impassive. “Why are you tellin’ me these things? Why would you give a fuck about Thalia? She killed your lover, after all.”
Lillith smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I’ve heard the official story, but I also know that it’s not true.” She sighed. “As for why I’m telling you about de Castro? Let’s just say that I’m trying to make up for what I almost allowed to happen to the child.”
Pam growled a little at the mention of Hunter. She was more than ready to end Lillith’s life because of her role in Bill’s schemes. “You got anything else to say before you meet your maker?”
Lillith cringed. “Don’t,” she said in a small voice, “please don’t wish that on me.” A red tear immediately rose into and fell from Lillith’s eye. She quickly wiped it away.
Pam’s eyes narrowed a little as she scrutinized Lillith. “You say you were kind to my maker?”
“Not kind,” Lillith said. “I took care of him. I did my duty.”
Pam scoffed. “Your duty to Russell,” she spit out the name.
Lillith shook her head. “No—I was a nurse once. I,” she paused, “was a good one.”
Pam took in the brunette vampiress in front of her. She saw the pain in her eyes. In that moment, Pam realized that Lillith did not expect to live through their encounter, but she also knew that Lorena’s second child was participating in the only fight that she had a chance to win. Lillith was trying to survive, even as she attempted to make her last moments on the earth matter—to cling to the good in her life and to atone for the bad. And Pam could respect her for that.
“You probably won’t believe me,” Lillith said in an almost-pleading voice, “but I regret freeing Russell; I didn’t realize how he was until it was too late. I just wanted Eric to pay for killing the man I loved. Bill was not perfect,” she paused, “but he sacrificed five years of his life so that I could be free from Lorena. And that is the closest I’ve ever come to feeling love from another.”
Pam nodded, her face softening just a bit. “I’m still going to kill you, but I hope you don’t meet your maker.” Pam deadpanned, “Lorena was a real cunt.”
Lillith gave her a little smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Pam sighed. “Your remains—I’ll put them with Compton’s.”
Lillith was silent for a moment, “You are your maker’s child. Thank you. I will not tell anyone about Hunter—no matter what.”
“Ready?” Pam asked.
“Yes,” Lillith said, raising her sword.
Pam had unsheathed hers as well. The two circled each other for a minute, each studying her opponent’s movements—each calculating the best moment to strike.
Knowing that catching Pam before she was fully ready and getting a lucky swing in was her best chance, Lillith struck first. In a flash of movement, she had descended upon Pam, almost getting the upper hand. Almost.
Using moves that had been engrained into her by her maker for years―moves that were automatic to her now―Pam spun away from Lillith’s thrust and repositioned her own sword at the same time.
In the next moment, Pam was facing Lillith down. Their swords clashed, and the sound tore through the silent night. Lillith stumbled backwards because of the impact; Pam, on the other hand, stepped forward. Lillith’s hand was shaking; her heart felt like it was shaking too. She felt alive.
“Stop,” Lillith said in a whisper. But she charged Pam once more.
Eric Northman’s child did what she was best at. She used her superior speed and movement to give herself the upper hand, as Lillith’s own momentum worked against her. Pam swung her sword—a sure swing, a confident swing, the swing she’d known how to brandish for more than a hundred years. Pam closed her eyes to the sound of Lillith’s head being disconnected from her shoulders, and then the vampiress turned around to look at her quickly deteriorating foe.
“Such a fucking waste,” Pam said quietly.
She used her senses to confirm that there was no one near. Lillith—it seemed—had kept her word and come alone. Pam picked up Lillith’s phone from her remains and took the battery and chip out so that it could not be used to signal her position. She’d give it to Thalia, who’d recently employed a cute little computer geek—not that Pam would admit that she thought the girl was cute out loud—named Molly. No—Pam thought better—she’d give the phone to Molly herself. Perhaps, the little Gothy geek could use Lillith’s phone to give them some information about de Castro or Russell. Or maybe it would just give Pam the opportunity to flirt with the cute, young thing. She always had liked that “type.”
“A fucking waste!” Pam repeated as she looked once more at Lillith’s remains. Quickly, she dug into Bill’s grave and kept her promise to the vampiress who had—after all—kept her brother a secret. Pam kept her senses alert, but relaxed a bit when she sensed that there was no one near—at least until she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Good evening, Miss Ravenscroft. I hope I’m not intruding.”