“Some of the souls that were released are very dark,” the Warden went on. “The oldest ones will be slowest to regenerate since their bodies have long been dust, but when they do . . . the power they consumed from Dagon’s essence will make them formidable. You must hunt down the evil ones to limit the havoc they will wreak, since it was your demand that caused them to be freed.”

I nodded. “Hunting down those who use their abilities to harm others is what I do. I won’t fail.” Gods, please, let me not fail, since I was responsible for this . . .

I took his barest inclination to the right as a returned nod. “Toward this end, I have removed all their memories connected to Dagon and their time spent trapped inside him. This will limit their knowledge of their new abilities. It will also spare them from being . . .” he paused as if choosing a word, “broken over what they experienced in their imprisonment,” he finished.

I caught myself before I said something caustic. So, he did understand the concept of extreme mental and emotional trauma. He’d probably removed those memories only to limit the people’s dangerousness, since a psychotic, powerful evil person was a bigger threat than a normal, powerful evil person. But whatever his motivation, it meant less suffering for Ian and the rest of them . . . wait. He’d removed all memories connected to Dagon? All of them?

“Will, ah, will Ian remember anything about these past few weeks, if all of it happened in direct connection with his deal with Dagon?”

My father stared at me, unblinking. “No. He will not.”

Chapter 45

Pain tore into me, as sudden and ferocious as the wraith attack. I forced myself to nod. To pretend that my father hadn’t just ripped my heart out and scrubbed the side of his boat with it. Ian was alive. Nothing else mattered, not even the fact that his only memories of me would be as the law-worshipping bitch he’d thought had helped murder his friend’s child.

It was for the best, I told myself. Dagon would be gunning for me, plus many other demons for my slaughter of their kind. I also had several powerful evil souls to hunt down before they became even more dangerous and deadly. Ian’s best chance, now that he was finally free of Dagon, was to stay as far from me as possible. My father hadn’t intended it, but he’d done me a favor. This would keep Ian safe better than I ever could. My pain was such a small price to pay.

Besides, Ian and I wouldn’t have lasted. He’d said he could have loved me, but “could” and “did” were very far apart. Much like the distance between Ian saying I was his, but not saying that he was mine. He’d ended his life to stop me from making a deal with Dagon, but he’d probably known Dagon would kill him anyway, making his actions as much a “fuck you” to his old nemesis as they were a sacrifice for me.

In short, if I looked at it coldly, Ian had never promised me anything beyond the moment. Ian reveled in the here and now, and there was value in enjoying that. But I would always want more, and it was no doubt beyond him to give it to me.

“There is more,” the Warden said. Of course there was, when consequences were the currency. “You are now as vulnerable to death as any vampire.”

“What?”

Incredibly, he looked away as if unable to hold my stare. “It was never your power that resurrected you. You do have the ability, but you have not cultivated it. Every time you came back, it was I who raised you. Once word of what I have done here reaches others, I will be removed as Warden and will no longer be able to raise you. Thus, you must take care of your life. You, like Dagon, now only have one of them.”

It wasn’t hearing about my new mortality that made tears spring to my eyes. It was knowing he had been checking in on me all these years, just in a way I’d never suspected. He’d also admitted that he was sacrificing his position as Warden to do as I’d asked. This wasn’t merely him satisfying a debt I’d forced him to acknowledge. This was much, much more.

“You do care for me, in your way.” Wonder tinged my voice.

He looked back at me, that flash of emotion gone and his face the impassive mask I was used to. “Your companion is of Tenoch’s bloodline.” Once again, I was taken aback. He knew Mencheres had sired Ian, and Tenoch had sired Mencheres? “Tenoch could regenerate from a similar state of decomposition. I have activated that same power in your companion. Give him blood, and his body will fully heal within hours instead of weeks.”

“Thank you, Father,” I said, but found myself speaking to the air. The Warden, his boat, and the river had vanished.

A soft whine made me turn around. Silver lay next to Ian’s body. He had a paw over Ian’s head as if seeking to protect him from the damage that had already been done to it. The sight was heartbreakingly sweet . . . until I heard what sounded like twigs snapping and Ian’s desiccated arm yanked Silver close. Then the Simargyl screeched as Ian’s bony jaws clamped down on him.

“No!” I shouted, snatching Silver away.

Blood dripped from Ian’s fangs. He snapped them at me, trying to tear into any available flesh again. His eyes were sightless, his body was more bones than skin, and his hair had turned pure white. I would have been terrified if I hadn’t seen this sort of thing before. Tenoch could wither until he looked exactly like this. It had been a valuable trick that fooled his enemies into thinking Tenoch was dead when he wasn’t, but it had also left Tenoch mindlessly hungry until he regenerated.

Now Ian had just gotten a mouthful of Silver’s opiate-equivalent blood. That, plus his ravenous state and gods-only-knew what powers he’d absorbed from Dagon after devouring his way out of the demon, made him dangerous. Worse, it wouldn’t be long until police arrived. All the explosions, even in this remote area, had to have attracted someone’s notice. I had to get Ian secured and away from innocent people, all before he healed enough to realize who the hell I was.

I couldn’t do this alone. I needed help. Fast.

I held on to Silver as I ran over and grabbed the heaviest piece of theme-park debris I could carry. Then I dragged it over to Ian, who’d already started to crawl in a mindless search for blood. I dropped it on top of Ian, wincing as I heard bones break. Then, still holding Silver, who wouldn’t stop whimpering, I ran into the mirrored fun house.

Amid the wreckage, I found the mobile phone Ian had insisted I have in case of emergency. This definitely qualified. I scrolled through the contacts, glad he’d taken the time to fill some of them in. Once I found the name I was looking for, I dialed. Answer, I silently urged when it only rang. Come on!

“Ian?” a British voice said on the first ring.

“Tell me you’re still in New Jersey!” I burst out, not bothering to return the greeting.

“We’re on our way to you,” was the answer I never expected. “Ian rang us from a different mobile half an hour ago and said he needed us. Where is he? And what are the ashes he told us we must recover if we saw them?”

The burning in my chest had to be my heart splitting apart. After vowing not to involve them because he couldn’t bear to endanger them, Ian must have also called Bones when he went to get Rani and Fenkir’s bodies. He’d made sure someone was coming to help me if the wraith ended up killing us both. Why else would Ian tell them to recover the ashes he knew I’d rise from? If Ian had thought he’d still be alive, too, he could have recovered my ashes himself.