Queen of Nothing

29. Queen of Survivors

Sheridan stood in stunned silence, his arms still wrapped around Tristan's shoulders. For a brief, twisted moment I wondered what it must be like to be him. It must be one thing to know your long dead, vengeful sister was alive, and another thing entirely to see her in the flesh.

Daphne let out a huff of indignation. "I find it hard to believe, that after everything you've put me through, after everything I've put you through, that you'd have nothing to say to me."

A long, drawn-out moment passed before Sheridan replied. "Kill her."

His guards all raised their guns and fired. But not at her. No, they trained their weapons on each other, and a sickening moment later they all lay in a bullet-strewn heap on the floor. Daphne rolled her eyes, as if it was all a tiny inconvenience. "That's an answer, I suppose."

Sheridan stepped in front of Tristan, shielding him. Not that it would do much good against Daphne's power. "I don't know how you're alive and I don't care, but I won't let you hurt him."

Daphne shrugged evenly. "You may not, but doesn't Tristan? Doesn't he deserve an explanation for for the grief and suffering that's plagued his bloodline for all these years?"

Tristan was silent, frozen with both fear and anger. I couldn't imagine what he must be feeling, coming face to face with his parents' killer.

Sheridan steps in front of him, shielding him from Daphne's sight. "Don't you dare claim the moral high ground. The harm I've caused you has been repaid ten times over. Does that make you happy, hmm? To know that you've caused me and my family centuries of misery?"

Daphne edged closer, causing Sheridan to stumble back. Her face was a mask of unbridled fury, finally unleashed after two hundred years. "Was I not your family? Was that why it was so easy for you to hire those men to stake out my carriage, to beat Andre until he could no longer struggle, then shoot us both like animals?" Sheridan stumbled back, reaching into his jacket for what had to be a pistol. Daphne kept advancing. "No, Sheridan. There is no repaying that. Not while you still sit on your throne and profit from my murder!"

Recognition dawned on Tristan's face. I realized he must have heard the story before, but had no idea of his 'uncle's' involvement in it. "Is it true?" he asked, voice frantic. "What she's saying — is it really true?"

"Tristan—"

"Is it your fault?" he yelled, with rage the likes of which I'd never seen from him before.

Sheridan's looked broken and pained. He shook his head. "She killed your parents."

"And you did nothing to stop her!" Tears flowed from his eyes, washing away the blood that coated his face.

Sheridan's eyes shone with determination. "Everything I've done, I did for my family. For you. Do not forget that."

Tristan scowled and shook his head. "Fuck the both of you."

I looked over at Daphne, who was watching the exchange with quiet amusement, and felt rage boil within me. It wasn't hard to guess that Daphne saved Tristan from being shot by Michael just so the vampire wouldn't steal her kill. I'd been furious at Sheridan for trying to offer me up as a sacrifice, but Daphne was giving him a run for his money in the loathsome department. Tristan was right – they could both rot.

"Your 'uncle' is right, you know," Daphne said. "You really should appreciate everything he's done to keep you safe. Pity it wasn't enough."

I saw the glint of steel in Daphne's hand and lunged to block her path without thinking, grabbing her by the arm that wielded the athame. She shuddered out of my grasp and eyed me as if I were a bothersome pest. "Step aside, Sabine."