Chapter Thirty-Eight
The thought of Nero pulls me out of my bloodlust. Stopping my grisly work, I rush over to him and see that he still looks like a wraith.
“Here.” Kneeling, I cut my finger and extend it to him.
He shakes his head. “Vampire blood won’t heal me further. Go help the others instead.”
I’m reluctant to leave him, but he’s right. The others do need help.
Jumping to my feet, I quickly scan the room and sprint over to Chester—who may or may not be alive.
When I press my fingers to his pulse, it’s there.
Lucky trickster. He’s just passed out, after all.
I give him some of my blood, and he opens his eyes right away.
“Did we win?” he asks in a hoarse voice, sitting up.
“Tartarus is no more,” I say somberly, glancing over at Vlad’s body.
“Oh,” Chester mutters when he spot
