by Sage, May
Martie was a paid Institute employee, but people didn't generally ask him for so much. A little bribe wouldn't hurt.
Martie eyed the money suspiciously.
"That won't get the mail out any faster."
"Maybe not. And maybe my replies won't be accompanied by a curse or two."
He pocketed the cash.
"All right, then. Mail to everyone heading out."
Soon, the ravens flew back by the dozens. It was all anyone could talk about, and Cat was more popular than ever. People she’d never spoken to stopped her to thank her for the invite and promise to be there.
Cat had to admit: she hadn’t expected so much enthusiasm. It was the end of term, with most people planning to leave on Saturday morning. That they’d rearranged their schedules to attend her little get-together was humbling.
A line had always been drawn between her—them—and the rest of the Institute. Vampires were other, darker, stranger, deadlier.
But it was fading away with little effort.
Levi had been right, it seemed. They could be allies, some day.
Although Cat noted that none of the wolves replied.
The Calm Before Him
Bash drove one of Levi's fancy cars to Edinburgh. He'd booked them a lovely restaurant not even Catherine Stormhale found cause to complain about, and then they walked the ancient city aimlessly.
Old Town was lovely. Catherine wasn't one to be impressed by old buildings, that much was clear, but she indulged him when he asked if she wanted to see the castle. They stopped by a teahouse where she stocked up on supplies for her Sunday party, buying adorable little sets and posh teas that seemed far too expensive.
The point of today wasn't seeing a castle or eating nice food; he wanted to show her that she liked spending time with him. And that he liked her company enough to ignore everything and everyone else.
The tourists around them still smelled like food, but he and the dark, thirsty beast inside him didn't give a damn. He'd finally tuned in to the thing inside him. They agreed on one thing, and that was her.
"How did you like today?"
Catherine grinned at him.
"It was nice. Lovely, actually. Thanks for dragging me out."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I remember a fair bit of dragging."
He suspected that her actually admitting there was something between them would take months. Years. Centuries.
He didn't mind. He had all the time in the world.
Bash pushed the breaks so hard the car swerved.
They'd arrived near the borders of Oldcrest.
And five lines of vampires stood between them and their home.
Most were old. He could have discerned that even before his change. Now, the age and power of the creatures in front of him was even more obvious.
Each of them was a force to be reckoned with.
And since they couldn't get through the doors, they hadn't been invited.
Shit.
"Drive."
He glanced at Catherine.
"They can stop the car. Hell, they can just stay in the way and let us crash into them."
"Drive," she repeated, more forcefully this time.
He shut his mouth, turned the key in the ignition, and drove forward, ignoring the hostile vampires whose eyes were on them.
As they approached the borders, the two hundred immortals converged on them.
He had to ask.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"They can't get their hands on me. I can invite them in. Drive. Faster."
He nodded, moving his right hand away from the wheel to take hers and give it a gentle squeeze. She seemed lost, frightened, stressed. He had to reassure her however he could. For now, that would have to do.
She held on to him hard. Catherine wasn't one for sweet talk, or displays of affection, but her tight grasp was telling. She was holding on to him like he was a lifeline.
Her other hand reached forward. Bash could feel her call to her powers. A lightning bolt hit the ground, and some of the vamps moved out of the way.
Some.
Not nearly enough.
Bash winced, expecting an imminent impact, but just as they were about to reach the first row of enemies, the sky darkened, and clouds formed, shedding the sun of what had been a nice afternoon.
The next time, a lightning bolt didn’t get in the way. A storm did. And hail. A precise, wrathful tornado forcing the vampires to move.
Bash lifted his foot from the accelerator.
"No! Keep going."
"Are you insane?"
He might love the girl, but there was an actual hurricane out there.
Shit. He loved the girl. He actually loved the crazy, beautiful ice queen. And he might die right alongside her. A little storm wouldn't have hurt two vampires, but this? Rocks the size of the convertible were being lifted off the ground, dammit. Being crushed by one of those would kill them. The car was vibrating as if being shaken by a giant.
"Keep going," she repeated. "This won’t hurt us."
She was certain. So certain he punched the accelerator hard and closed his eyes.
And then, the storm stopped. No more vibration. He opened his eyes.
They were in Oldcrest, in front of Levi, Chloe, Mikar, Luke, Ruby, Greer, Jack, Tris, Blair, Gwen, Bat, Chris, and everyone else. Some faces he didn't even recognize. All wearing gear. All ready to fight if—when—the enemy advanced.
"I can't believe you made it through!" Greer exclaimed, eyes wide with shock, as they got out of the poor car.
It was in serious need of a paint job now.
"We thought they'd intercept you. Damn, that was some storm, lady."
Cat shook her head.
"That wasn't me," she said.
Levi tilted his head.
"What then?"
She looked back to the border, searching the crowd with a frown.
"Seth," she mouthed. "My brother. But he isn't here."
Greer's head snapped north to Night Hill, eyes narrowed. "Someone just broke the wards." They all stiffened. "From the sky. It won't affect the borders elsewhere. The breach was right over the hill."
Catherine circled the car, heading to the driver's side.
"I have to go."
"Wait, I'll come with you," Bash said.
"You're needed here. Seth either wants to speak to me or is taking the hill for my family's benefit. Either way, anyone else stepping in would be fried chicken."
Dammit. He hated that she was right.
Bash's gaze followed the car as she drove back to the hill, half wondering why she wasn't just running.
But she'd used her power. Depleting her energy any more would be unwise.
When she reached the third house, he redirected his gaze to the enemies still waiting in front of the shield. For what? A signal? Seth?
"What are we dealing with?" he asked.
"The Stormhales. The Beauforts. All foot soldiers, not one member of either family." Levi grimaced. "This is the first wave. They're testing our defenses."
Two hundred seasoned vampire soldiers against the Institute.
Bash dropped to a crouch to rest while they waited. The shit would hit the fan, and soon. If his math was right, they might just win this round, but not without losses.
And if Levi was right, and it was just the start? They were screwed.
A Place
The wait was the worst part. The anticipation of knowing that, eventually, the line separating them from their enemies would fade. Fighting wasn't hard. Win or lose, it was a flow of movements—block, feint, lunge, kick, punch, and now, bite, he supposed. And at the end he'd either be the one left standing or he would have nothing left to worry about. A simple dance. But while waiting, his mind was complicating things, trying to predict the most challenging adversary. He knew he had to go for one of the biggest threats. As a huntsman, his duty would have been protecting the others—ancient vampires notwithstanding—but now tha
t he'd turned, he had to keep the worst enemy busy, because unlike most of his friends, he could.
"I have an idea."
Bash was grateful for Chloe's interruption.
"Probably a terrible idea, of course. I'm sure just about everyone here has more experience in this sort of situation."
"Please," Levi invited her to speak, his jaw tight.
"You said they're testing us, right? Well, how about we deceive them? Then we can take them by surprise later."
Bash scanned the ancients' faces; most seemed surprised, some excited. Levi shook his head.
"You mean some of us could face them. That's a good idea, in theory. But it means potential loss. They may just be Beaufort and Stormhale foot soldiers, but they are rigorously trained." The ancient's jaw was set. "It's a gambit we can't afford."
"Everything we do means potential loss," Alexius challenged. "Your girl has a good mind for strategy. If half of us—"
"Not half of us," Chloe interrupted. "A handful of us."
She pointed to her own chest, along with Levi, Alexius, and the De Villier slayers. "If we go and ask to speak to them, make them believe we want to negotiate, they'll think they've already won. It'd play for time, if nothing else."
Bash was impressed. The semester was over, and most people should have left yesterday—and they might have, if not for the highly anticipated tea party on the hill.
Those cowards had attacked when the Institute was supposedly at its weakest. Making them think they were right, that Oldcrest was empty, was smart.
He chuckled. "I like it. Bet you anything they'll fall for it, too."
From what he knew of vampires, they certainly were arrogant enough to believe they had won by simply intimidating them.
"It's dangerous," Levi repeated.
"Everything is dangerous. Your girl is right, Leviathan."
The ancient glared at Alexius, who didn't so much as blink as he met the gaze head-on.
"Easy for you to say. You can't step out there."
"No. I'll just be the first to deal with the mess when they leave your carcass rotting on the other side."
"I can try to whisper to them. See if they'll listen."
"There's a difference between enchanting one mortal witch and a couple of hundred immortal warriors, Chloe," Greer replied, grinding her teeth. "But I think you're right. They've set up a trap, and doing anything logical, or expected, would just end up serving them. Some of us should stay here. Others should go. Make them underestimate our numbers."
Bash could tell Levi's silence equaled resignation. Finally, his orders came, curt and authoritative.
"Ruby, Luke, Bash, with me. Mikar, Alexius, you stay glued to Chloe. Do not let her step out of there."
"Wait a minute, I should—" Chloe’s words died as the elder stepped toward his mate, each stride slow and almost threatening.
When he reached her, his face dropped to her, and his lips pressed against hers, briefly and ever so sweetly. Bash looked away, feeling like he was intruding on something far too intimate. Something he envied.
"You should remain safe," he stressed. "For me. I cannot do this while I worry about you."
Bash could tell she was pissed.
"I can take care of myself."
"You will. None of us will be idle tonight. But they want you. Not me, not anyone else. They want to see you burn. This entire trap could be just for you. Let's see what we're dealing with first. Then you can save my ass when I need you."
The guy was smart; Bash could tell that spin would work even before Chloe nodded, her shoulders sagging in defeat.
He sent Mikar, then Alexius, meaningful looks. Bash pitied them both, if Chloe got so much as a scratch.
He glanced up at the hill, at the ominous single cloud hovering over it, before following Levi out of the borders.
Ruby was on the ancient’s left, Luke covered his right flank, and Bash closed up the rear.
A natural place he'd fallen into without thinking things through. But it fit. Somehow, it fit.
Thunder
Cat walked inside the ancient manor and found her sword still lying in the hallway. She’d left it there when she’d brought Maddy in, and hadn’t used it yet.
She took it now. Lightning, Levi had said it was called. She knew it wouldn’t be of any use to her now, but she still found it comforting. The sword was a present from Chloe, from Levi. A reminder of who she was here.
Just like Levi's house was decorated in dark red and silver, the Stormhale keep was purple and gold, gaudy tones Cat had never liked.
A handsome blond man lounged on a magenta damask four-seater, his head on the armrest, eyes on the ceiling. He wore a black suit without a shirt, and a red tie. This man was more handsome than Levi, Bash, and Jack. Only Fin Varra could hold a candle to his perfection, which didn't stop at his physical aspect. He was smarter than anyone Cat knew, stronger than most witches, and as good with a sword as any warrior, though he was only thirty-five. He’d turned five years ago, later than most born vampires. As a result, there was a masculinity, a certain ruggedness to his aesthetic. Messy hair and three-day-old stubble were his signature style, and he knew exactly how it affected the women—and men—he encountered.
No doubt he was the reason Cat was so hard to impress.
Cat didn't ask how he'd gotten in. She didn't ask what he was doing here. She did the only thing she could do.
Pulling her sword from its sheath on her belt and planting it on the floor, she got to her knees, head bowed low.
"Brother."
Seth rolled his eyes.
"Oh, please. None of that nonsense here. Aunt Dru isn't hiding behind the potted cactus, you know."
Cat hazarded a half-smile and rose to her feet. "That we know of."
"It's good to see you, Catharina."
"Likewise, Seth. What's with the dramatic entrance? I would have thought you'd quite like riding a bike through the Highlands."
Her brother laughed. "That certainly would have been more to my taste, but I'm here with a message that could not be delayed, given the situation.”
"I'd say so. How long did it take you to get here from Rome?”
“Seven seconds, give or take. I didn’t actually count.”
She winced on his behalf. “Do you need some water, something to eat, blood?"
Riding a lightning bolt took so much energy that most storm mages would have died from the effort.
Most vampires, even those who couldn't use magic, could transport their consciousness to the mind of an animal they'd established a connection with. They called it syncing. When it was done well, they could literally disappear, their corporal form traveling along with the beast like a wave of pure energy. A form of blood magic born of affection and understanding between man and beast.
Some—the best—mages could sync with their elements. Cat had never managed it. But Seth Stormhale wasn't most mages. He’d mastered traveling through lightning as a teen.
"I'm fine," he replied, shrugging, like the almost impossible feat had been effortless.
Cat loved her brother, and knew that he loved her right back. But they'd never understood each other. He was a larger-than-life genius with too many gifts. Everyone in their family kissed his boots, even their aunt. They might be siblings, but they had little in common past their physical appearance.
"So, the message?" she asked. “A warning from Drusilla, I’d wager.”
She wasn't one for small talk, especially with him, and with a few hundred slayers at their doors, now wasn’t the time for it anyway.
Seth said, "Mine, Mother's, or Aunt Drusilla’s? You have a few different notes today."
"Yours first," Cat replied offhandedly, though it might have been wiser to pick their aunt’s message.
Drusilla was very strict about them calling her “aunt,” though she wasn’t.
Drusilla Stormhale was their great-great-great-great-great-grandmother, the head of the family. Everything she said had to ta
ke precedence.
"Mine is rather simple: don't."
Cat blinked in confusion. "Don't what?"
Seth sat up on the sofa. "Is that a new sword? Nice blade. Where did you get that?"
"Don't what," she repeated impatiently.
“Mother tells you to listen to our aunt, as she doesn’t want you to get into trouble. Dear Aunt Drusilla says that all is forgiven, your treachery will be brushed under the rug, as long as you let our troops into Oldcrest right now. And I say, don't."
“I won’t. I have a life here. Friends I value. Friends who value me. You can throw everything at me. You can torture me. I will not let our family destroy this place.”
Seth rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you just hear me clearly tell you not to do as you’re told?”
Oh, yes. He’d mentioned that.
Cat cleared her throat. But Aunt Drusilla…
"If I don't, I'll be made an example of. You know that. They’ll—”
"What, torture you again?"
She closed her mouth and looked down.
Mages of great power affected the very energy around them without meaning to do so, even when they didn’t use magic. Their emotions, their movement were enough for the elements to vibrate all around them.
Cat had seen that with her aunt. Whenever she was angry, the room darkened, the air crackled.
She'd never seen Seth angry.
His expression didn't change at all, but his eyes were a dark galaxy with flickers of light. And the room grew colder, the air thinner. He took three steps toward her.
Cat had never been afraid of her brother until today.
"I realize I'm busy," he said quietly. "I realize I'm older, and that we have greatly different schedules." His voice held an edge. "And I also realize that I'm rather self-centered, but Catharina, learning what she did to you?"
Cat blinked.
Her brother had reached for her hands and was looking at the faint scars on her fingers.
