I Should Die

drops. He shuts his eyes and touches his fingers to his forehead.
    “You win,” he murmurs, not looking at me. And then, all business, he says, “Charlotte, call everyone together. Tell them to phone the kindred they contacted earlier this evening. Everyone will assemble, fully armed, at the northeast corner of the park surrounding the arena.” Charlotte nods and goes to inform the others.
    Vincent and I are left alone in the foyer. He looks at me like I’m a stranger. As if he is seeing me for the very first time. The three feet between us feels like a mile. “This could be it, Kate. It could be the end of all of us. It could very likely be the end of you.”
    “I know,” I say, raising my chin.
    He is quiet. “My first feeling when I heard you had animated was joy,” he says finally. “I thought that this was the answer to all of our problems. That we could be together forever. Even though I ached that you would be forced to follow such a difficult path, I thought that together we could make it something good and beautiful.”
    “Vincent, I . . . ,” I begin, but he holds a hand up, asking me to let him finish.
    “Then Bran told us you were the Champion. And I lost that joy. Because I knew you would never be allowed to be yourself again. You would always carry a great responsibility—the survival of our kindred as well as the protection of the city. The country. That is . . . you would carry that responsibility until the day you were called into action against the numa. And I knew that when that day came, the victory you led us to might prove a tragedy for you. For me and for your family. You can so easily be destroyed. You are the target.”
    I take a deep breath, knowing he is right. “My grandparents and sister know what a revenant is and the dangers that go with it. They have had a couple of days to accept that.” I pause. “It’s as if my country were at war and I was going to defend it in battle. Mamie and Papy wouldn’t want me to be a soldier. But now that I am one, they will understand any sacrifice I make.”
    “And me?” Vincent asks. “Does what I feel count for anything? The girl I love is offering herself up like . . .” He sighs, looking miserable as he searches for words. “Like a virgin to the dragon.”
    “No, the girl you love isn’t offering herself to the dragon. This virgin ”—a smile forms on my lips as I say the word—“is heading out to kick some dragon ass, not to swoon and perish.”
    Vincent throws himself on me, enveloping me in his arms. “No self-sacrifice,” he breathes into my hair. “You won’t die for us.”
    “Not on purpose,” I promise. “Plus, Vincent, I’m not going anywhere without you. If we go down, we’re going down together.” I lean back and attempt a smile.
    His eyes are red and glassy. “Together,” he agrees, and leans down to kiss me.
     
    “ You aren’t going anywhere,” Vincent says, as Ambrose struggles to get up off the bed.
    “I have one good arm,” Ambrose retorts, and then grunts in pain as Charlotte pushes him back down.
    “See? You can barely move,” she says. “You’ll only be a liability.”
    “The fight of the decade—maybe even the century—and I won’t be there? You have got to be kidding me,” he moans.
    The doctor leans over and gives him an anesthetizing shot in the arm. “We’ll give it a couple of minutes to get numb,” he says, and goes to the other side of the room to dig through some instruments.
    “I’m your leader and I say no,” Vincent insists, and leaves the room.
    Charlotte begins to stand, but Ambrose catches her hand before she can walk away. “Wait,” he pleads.
    “You’re not going to talk me into it,” she says, giving him a warning look.
    He glances at me. “Katie-Lou, you’ll give it to me straight. This is the real deal, isn’t it? What’s going to go down with Violette is happening now, right?”
    I meet Charlotte’s eyes, and she gives a slight shake of her head. I exhale. “Yes.”
    “Aww, man,” Ambrose groans, and closing his eyes, he lays his head back against the pillow.
    “Listen, Ambrose,” says Charlotte, “we’re going to do our best to get Geneviève’s body back, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’ll just slow us down if you go along. I promise we’ll do everything we can.”
    Ambrose’s eyes narrow. “That’s why you think I want to go?” he asks. “Because of Geneviève?”
    Charlotte gives him a confused