Retribution

by Rye Brewer

  “Hi,” I said, smiling wide.

  “Hello there. What can I help you with?” He met my eyes, and I felt a switch flip in my head as I connected with him.

  I let my consciousness reach out and touch his. He was surprised—stunned, actually, and confused.

  What was happening to him? Why couldn’t he look away from the little girl with the white hair?

  “You know that tall, beautiful woman staying here? She came in around an hour ago wearing a ridiculously gorgeous dress. Hair down to her waist? Perfect skin, perfect body? Perfect everything?”

  “Of course. We all know her.”

  “I bet you do,” I smiled. “I need to know her room number.”

  He didn’t want to tell me. I had to give him credit for how hard he fought, even if it made my life more difficult.

  I let him try to pull his mind away from mine, knowing he wouldn’t be able to until I allowed it. It was like I had plugged into an electrical socket. The connection didn’t end until I pulled the plug.

  “I’m not supposed to,” he murmured, shaking a little.

  “It’s all right. You won’t get into any trouble. I promise. But I need to know. Now.”

  I concentrated harder, and he flinched like a wave hit him. Because it had. A wave of my focus. He weakened under it.

  “Room 709,” he murmured. His lips barely moved.

  “Thank you. Now, you’ll forget you ever spoke with me. You won’t even remember seeing me. Is that clear?”

  “Yes.”

  I let go, and he fell back a couple of steps.

  By the time he finished shaking his head to clear the fog in his brain, I was on my way back to the bar. Jonah was waiting at our table with his fist clenched around the stem of his unused wine glass.

  “709,” I murmured. “We’ll come back tomorrow night, and I’ll rappel to the room.”

  “We should check out the floor map before we try this,” he warned as we left. “That way we’ll know which room we’re breaking into. If it’s facing Fifth Avenue or Fifty-Fifth Street, we’re in trouble.”

  I saw what he meant. There was too much traffic on the main streets for us to get away with that.

  “We might have to take a chance,” I said. “If it’s dark enough, the chances that anybody would happen to look up and see me working are slim.”

  24

  Anissa

  I couldn’t believe how thrilling it was, knowing what I would be doing. I felt fully alive.

  We got lucky, too.

  Room 709 faced an alley behind the hotel. I wondered how Genevieve felt about not having a view out her window as I climbed the building behind the hotel, then ziplined across to the St. Regis’s roof.

  It was muscle memory, all of it. I barely had to think about it. There was only one difference from all the other times I had used my many tools—Jonah was with me.

  “If you think I would let you do this on your own, you’re nuts,” he’d said when I described what we would have to do.

  He’d promised he could climb the building and that ziplining didn’t scare him, and he was right. He did a great job. When he met me on the roof after following my steps, he had the same glow in his eyes that he had after we robbed the lab.

  “Okay. I’ll wait for you here,” he said. His eyes traveled over my face as I raised my hood. “Are you sure you should do this alone? I hate thinking of you going into that room on your own.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, even as I wasn’t sure I would be. We had watched Genevieve leave the hotel from across the street, but I didn’t know if there was anybody else staying with her or in the rooms next to hers. It was a chance I would have to take.

  I attached the grappling hook to the edge of the roof and took a deep breath before starting my way down the side of the hotel.

  The top two floors were ballrooms, and the three floors below that were residences.

  Genevieve was on the last floor with hotel rooms on it. I counted the floors as I bounded down the side of the building, then counted the windows.

  Based on the maps we had studied, I was outside her room.

  I pulled the diamond-tipped stencil from my tool belt and coursed around the inside of the window frame—it didn’t open, none of hotel’s windows did, so I had to cut out the entire pane. I was careful not to shatter it and attract attention. As soon as the pane fell toward me, I caught it in my gloved hands and maneuvered it through the window and onto the floor, leaning against the wall.

  Then, I swung into the room and hooked the line to the leg of the desk by the window to keep it within reach.

  The room was huge. It reminded me of the Bourke penthouse, in fact. I didn’t have time to admire the luxurious furniture or fresh flowers or enormous bed with its million pillows. I couldn’t even turn on a light.

  I had work to do.

  The desk was empty. I moved on to the nightstand—there were papers in there, but nothing that looked important. What exactly was I looking for? I didn’t know. Anything that could point her to the lab, or to Marcus, or to a plot against the Bourkes.

  The beep signaling the unlocking of the door made me freeze in place.

  No. She couldn’t be back so soon.

  My eyes darted wildly back and forth as I looked for a place to hide. I was just about to drop to the floor to slide under the bed when the door swung open.

  The thug standing in the doorway noticed the broken window first, then looked at me.

  I recognized him from the League meeting—he was one of Genevieve’s seconds-in-command.

  And the nasty sneer that broke out over his face told me he remembered me, too.

  “You didn’t need to go to all this trouble,” he snarled before lunging at me.

  As he did, he pulled a blade from his back pocket.

  I darted away, rolling across the floor and pulling my own blade before jumping to my feet. He didn’t miss a beat and lunged again.

  I sidestepped him—he wasn’t as agile as me, as big as he was, and he crashed into the wall.

  But he took a swing with the knife and his arms were long, so his reach was wider than mine.

  I managed to duck in time to avoid a direct hit, but the blade skimmed my right shoulder.

  I hissed in pain as the steel sliced through my skin and deep into muscle. I couldn’t afford to let it slow me down even as the pain screamed through my arm and blood soaked through my hoodie.

  He rebounded off the wall and knocked me to the floor, pinning me on my back with a nasty smile. “They should’ve sent somebody a little bigger than you,” he sneered as he waved the knife in my face.

  Panic overtook me; he was going to kill me.

  I was still holding my blade, which I turned in my hand and jammed into his calf as hard as I could.

  The silver made the pain excruciating. He let out a howl of pain and rolled off me, but swung out with his knife in time to catch my throat and slice it in a downward arc until he reached my shoulder.

  Just like that, my entire torso was covered in warm, sticky blood. It wasn’t spurting out, so he didn’t hit my carotid, but I was still in trouble.

  I struggled to my knees and used his distraction to my advantage. My blade sank into his heart, killing him almost instantly. He slumped onto the floor with his eyes still open in shock and pain.

  I had to get out of there. I was losing way too much blood.

  I slid my blade into my boot and crawled to the window to hook the line onto my harness. I was so dizzy and sleepy all of a sudden. I couldn’t let myself rest.

  I had to get back to Jonah.

  My vision was blurring and doubling, and it was a struggle to ease my aching body out the window. Once I was outside—probably dripping blood into the alley below—it was only seconds later than I was back on the roof.

  I didn’t even manage to disconnect myself from the zipline before I collapsed.

  25

  Philippa

  I froze in horror at the sight
of Lucian.

  He froze, too, probably surprised to see me there.

  I couldn’t blame him.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his jaw tightened. He wasn’t happy to see me.

  That went double as far as I was concerned.

  Suddenly, a smile touched his lips. “Philippa Bourke. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you two together.” He looked at Vance, then at me.

  “It’s nice to see you,” I lied.

  “I was just coming by to let Vance know it’s time for dinner,” he said with a wider smile.

  That same political smile he always flashed, especially during League meetings.

  I wanted to remind him that we weren’t at a League meeting and he could be real with me. He didn’t know just how real he could be if he felt like it.

  I knew a lot more about him than he was aware of. I imagined him as the young man he must have been when he betrayed my family, how he supposedly loved my mother. How could he really have loved her when he tried to force her into being with him?

  That wasn’t love. That was ownership.

  I reminded myself that I wasn’t supposed to know about the past. How would I have acted around him back before I knew he was a backstabbing traitor? “I’ll leave you alone, then. I don’t want to intrude on your dinner.”

  “Nonsense.” He touched my arm, and I fought off a shudder of disgust. His smile was firmly in place, but his eyes were hard, a little cold. “You must join us. I won’t hear of your leaving now.”

  “I don’t want to put you out,” I protested, laughing uncomfortably.

  “You must.” His hand closed around my forearm, and he led me from the chambers, down the hall. I had no choice but to let him lead me. “Naturally, we only serve blood,” he continued, “but it’s nice for us to be together and spend a little time as a family.”

  I glanced back at Vance—no, Valerius—to gauge his reaction.

  His face was blank.

  I couldn’t tell what he thought about this whole happy family charade. Meanwhile, I was fairly sure Vance wasn’t one to have dinner with his father. Did Valerius make it a habit? A little glimmer of an idea dawned inside me. Did Lucian see any difference in his new son?

  It had been years and years since I had been inside Lucian’s mansion, just inside Headquarters grounds. It was built at the same time as the cathedral, originally used as a home for the priests and monks then, who said Mass and tended to the community that used to live and work in the area.

  Most of those old homes were long gone, but the mansion had stood the test of time just like the cathedral had. It was built in the same Gothic style, with thick, wooden beams stretching across the length of the high ceilings.

  Tall, intricate stained-glass windows lined the exterior walls. The staircase leading down to the first floor was wide enough for five men to walk side-by-side, with a beautiful, hand-carved wooden banister. The walls were covered in gilt-framed paintings—Lucian considered himself a collector. Art was one of the few human achievements he acknowledged as worthwhile.

  Heavy iron chandeliers lit the stairs and the hall we walked down to reach the banquet hall. It was used much more frequently in the old days, designed for dozens of priests and many other people at once.

  Maybe the community gathered together there—they could’ve fit. I guessed our entire clan could’ve fit in there with room to spare. It was a dark, foreboding room with its wood-lined walls and heavy furniture.

  I wondered if it was original to the mansion—it looked like it could’ve been, so old-fashioned and heavy and dark. Not to mention uncomfortable.

  A long table sat in the center of the room, stretching from one end to the other. No way we needed that much room for a small, intimate dinner. Though it wasn’t like Lucian to keep things small.

  The table was set with big bowls of flowers that filled the air with a thick, cloying scent. At one end, the end Lucian led me to, sat a few family members and a few people I didn’t recognize.

  I knew Landon, Vance’s older brother, and recognized the beautiful woman who sat at the right hand of the chair at the head of the table.

  Genevieve.

  She turned her intense eyes in my direction, and her ruby lips parted in a smile. Her jet-black hair and flawless porcelain skin shone in the candlelight.

  “Philippa. What a nice surprise.” She spoke perfect English even though she was from Europe.

  I couldn’t remember which of the Balkan states she originated from. Maybe it was Romania. Regardless, I never would’ve known from her voice.

  What was she doing here? I remembered seeing her at the meeting—who could miss her? She had a way of drawing the eye and probably had to fend off men right and left. Unless she didn’t fend them off.

  “It’s a bit of a surprise to me, as well. I hadn’t expected a dinner invitation.”

  I took the chair Vance/Valerius pulled out for me and settled in beside Landon. He looked like Vance, almost exactly like him, but his personality was much milder. He was never as cocky as his brother, or as brash. Or as sexy.

  “How are you?” I asked him in a low voice. I was determined to make small talk and seem as normal as possible even as my mind reeled.

  I had no idea how to get out of the mess I was in. How would I ever get out of there? I could course away, but how would I get out of the mansion if Lucian didn’t want to let me go? And I had the feeling he wouldn’t make it easy for me.

  “I’m well, thanks. How about you?” He flashed a handsome smile. I always liked him, even if it wasn’t the way I liked Vance.

  “Pretty well, thanks.”

  “What brings you here?” He was totally innocent. He had no idea.

  I guessed he didn’t know what happened to his brother, either. Valerius was probably smart enough to keep from spending a lot of time with the close family members, just in case he gave himself away.

  “I just thought I could use a visit. I haven’t seen your brother in such a long time—at the meeting, but that was about it. You know I never could stay away from him.” I had to call on my old party girl personality a little bit as I laughed carelessly.

  My eyes fell on Genevieve as I did and I saw her watching me with a cold stare. How could anything so beautiful be so cold and hard?

  To my left was a vampire girl I had never met. She looked out of place, though not uncomfortable. Her eyes took in everything even though she said nothing and was clearly trying to blend into the surroundings. Where did she come from? Was she one of Genevieve’s girls? She was beautiful enough to be, though her hair was like spun gold and her eyes were like emeralds. She played with the stem of a crystal goblet and listened to the conversation, absorbing everything.

  I wondered if it was paranoia that made me distrust her.

  A server came in to pour blood into our goblets. Lucian was served first, then Genevieve, then the rest of us.

  I raised the glass in a toast along with the others and drank gladly—I hadn’t fed in too long, and I needed every bit of strength I could get. The fresh blood gave me a little more clarity. I could get myself out of there. I could do anything. I just had to be smart and keep from panicking.

  We continued to make small talk until another member of the staff entered the banquet hall and leaned down to whisper in Lucian’s ear.

  A slow, nasty, terrifying smile spread across his face. “Wonderful. Bring him in for entertainment.” He chuckled a little, pleased with himself.

  I looked at Landon, but he didn’t seem to have heard what Lucian said. Nobody was paying attention but me and Genevieve, who looked confused, but interested.

  A door opened behind Lucian and two members of his security team came in, leading a tall figure in a long cloak.

  A long, dark gray cloak.

  I knew that cloak. Allonic had wrapped it around me before we ported.

  A gasp threatened to slip out, but I held it back and forced my face to settle in normal, relaxed lines as the two hulkin
g men shoved Allonic in front of where Lucian sat.

  Allonic’s eyes glowed with rage, and his dark skin was covered in bruises. There was a metal headband on his head, and metal shackles on his wrists.

  Tears stung behind my eyes but I held them back and pretended not to care even as I screamed inside. When did they get him? How?

  It was all my fault.

  The girl next to me jumped up, along with a few of the others.

  “He’s a shade!” one of them screamed as they pushed away from the table. “He’s dangerous! Get him out of here!”

  Lucian never flinched. “There is no problem,” he said, holding up a hand to silence them. “He’s no danger. That headband, those shackles? They are created from cold-forged iron. He cannot cast a portal or send out one of his spiritwalkers to possess any of us. He’s harmless—even the strongest shade cannot fight cold-forged iron.”

  Allonic stopped glaring at Lucian and looked the rest of us over, one by one.

  I held my breath.

  Would he let them know he recognized me? What would happen if he did?

  His eyes traveled over Landon before falling on me.

  We looked at each other for the briefest of moments before he looked at the girl next to me. His face never indicated that he knew me.

  I felt weak with relief for myself, and fear for him.

  “What are you doing here?” Lucian asked. “How did my men capture you?”

  Allonic didn’t flinch. It was like he never heard the question.

  I was proud of him on the one hand. I knew he wouldn’t break down or give Lucian the satisfaction he craved.

  On the other hand, I didn’t want to imagine what Lucian would do to him if he didn’t answer. He was cruel.

  Only I knew how cruel he could be. No, not just me. Valerius knew, too.

  “You don’t like to speak,” Lucian observed, studying the blood that was left in his goblet. “Perhaps you could be coaxed into giving me the answers I desire?”

  He looked at Allonic again, but Allonic kept his eyes trained on the wall above Lucian’s head. He didn’t flinch.