Karen swung her head around with slightly widened eyes. My stomach flipped. She was a woman you really didn’t want to mess with. Magical or not, you always needed to watch your six where Karen was concerned. I’d just excited her crazy.
“Is that right?” Karen said quietly. Too quietly, like she might plan on finding some scorpions and putting them in my bed. “And what do you know about it?”
“Well, she probably knows that you recently sent her to the elf castle to be taken and tortured,” Penny said, shocking me mute. She didn’t usually stand up to her mother. “Then taken again and trapped. That’s what she probably knows about it. Mother, honestly, you’ll just have to do the best you can. We’ll all have to do the best we can. You can help Roger, Romulus, and even Darius, but when it comes to Reagan, I doubt you’ll get very far.”
“Penelope Bristol, don’t you sass your mother.”
“Mother, I’ve had enough.” She threw her napkin down and pushed to standing, stepping over the long bench.
I looked at Emery to see if we were all standing, or if he’d maybe try to calm her down instead. Given he sat frozen, clearly he didn’t know what to do.
Cahal stood, though, like a cobra rising from its coil. He picked up his plate.
Apparently we were leaving.
“You have no idea what it’s like in the thick of things,” Penny continued, showing those ragged edges she’d gained after visiting the elves and touring the Underworld. “You don’t know what it’s like to watch your friend sacrifice everything for you and be unable to stop it. To spend months trying not to blame your own flesh and blood for the pain you were put through—that she was put through. I don’t blame you, Mother, just so we’re clear. I trust in your gift. But a lot of what the Red Prophet has said has been right, too. And now Charity’s stuff is on the fritz, and my Temperamental Third Eye has gone nuts… It seems like something is interfering with your Sight, with everyone’s sight, and this time I don’t think the fates are going to lift their skirts and reveal their wares.”
My mouth dropped open. A little smile played across Cahal’s face.
“There is clearly not one right path, and that’s good, because the last time there was one path it didn’t work out that well for a few of us. You’re just going to have to figure out your thing with the Red Prophet on your own.” She picked up her plate, took a deep breath, and then finished, “As soon as the war is over, if we’re both still alive, I am going to marry Emery, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.” She nodded. “So there.”
She turned around and stormed away.
I grabbed a fistful of Emery’s shirt as Ms. Bristol’s crazy eyes slowly slid to him.
“Go, go, go,” I muttered, grabbing my plate with the other hand. “Let’s go, let’s go!”
“Excuse me,” Emery said, picking up his plate and stepping over the bench.
I hustled him away, but we were close enough to hear Cahal behind us. “Ma’am, Penny is right about a couple of things. First, there will be many paths. In war, there always is. Sometimes there will be no right answer. Sometimes…you will need the Red Prophet to put in motion things you might not be comfortable with advocating. As for the second…” He paused for a while. “In my opinion, the fates are indeed interfering with your Seeing. And if not the fates, then Lucifer himself, and any of his people he’s managed to smuggle into this compound. Be prepared for blindness.”
I frowned at him when he joined us toward the plate-drop area. A few shifters nodded to us as they exited the cafeteria-style area, most with plates. We’d beaten the dinner rush, which was good news judging by the amount of food these people had on their plates.
“What did you mean about Lucifer interfering with their Sight?” I asked, dropping my plate into the brown rubber basin at the dirty-dish station on the east wall, away from the line of shifters waiting for their turn at the rapidly emptying buffet.
“He has that ability, as do you. As do a couple other creatures.”
“He certainly didn’t tell me that,” I muttered.
“What other creatures?” Penny asked.
A brick of a guy stepped in front of us, over six feet tall with a muscle-stacked body and a face that would make angels weep, wondering what had gone wrong with his genetics. Half his head was shaved and the other half long. There was probably some significance other than I’m bad at fashion, but I didn’t much care to find out.
“Ma’ams, sirs,” he said in a gruff voice. “This is a shifter-only eatery. You’d probably be more comfortable in the cafeteria set up for the mages and fae.”
“Why?” I looked around at everyone minding their business, getting food and sitting down to eat it. “What’s so special about this place? Are you just about to group together for a circle jerk, or something?”
His eyebrows flattened over brown, close-set eyes. “We have a housing unit for the shifters, and one for guests. That’s the way it has always been done.”
“I guess you’re not so different from the fae at the root?” I asked, but of course he didn’t know what I was talking about. Roger would, and I would definitely rub his face in it, just for funsies. When Devon’s pack first brought Charity to visit the warrior fae, they’d been relegated to crappy guest housing far away from the other residences. Samesies on our second visit. “Anyway, we are shifters.” I pointed at myself. “I shift into an asshole.” I pointed at Cahal. “He occasionally shifts into a nice guy.” To Penny and Emery. “They can make you stop shifting, forever, so you should probably just let them do what they want.”
“Joe.” Steve walked over with his customary grin and swagger. He clapped a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Don’t antagonize the pretty blonde. She’ll tie your dick in a knot, burn off that stupid haircut, and laugh at your pain.”
“But sir…”
A hard edge crept into Steve’s tone. “It’s good. Leave it.”
The man issued a curt nod and walked away with a stiff back.
“The mages and fae actually asked for a different sort of menu,” Steve said, gesturing toward the door and then walking with us. “They wanted more options for vegetables and didn’t like the meat so bloody. It was easier creating two eateries. Poor Joe thinks shifters are king and came to his own conclusions.”
I pointed at him as we walked out the door. “You’re tempting me to dash his dreams of being top of the food chain…”
Steve laughed. “Sure, just don’t get caught by Roger. He’s a bit wound up.”
“We’re all a bit wound up,” Penny muttered.
“Not me. I’m going to go find a pretty little fae and help her forget about her woes.” Steve winked and broke away right, sauntering across the grass to another sprawling, rustic building.
Deep night stretched overhead for about two miles, the stars plentiful and bright. Beyond that, the glow of the afternoon shone down. We’d stepped through the portal to a lightening sky, and with Roger’s approval, I’d created a cover for the vampires. Penny and Emery had strung up a protective ward that would give the vampires time to get to cover if someone should try to tear down my artificial night.
“Reagan,” Cahal said, his voice subdued in the fake night. “You interrupted the Seer. Why?”
I snapped my fingers, having completely forgotten about that. “Penny,” I said, walking us back to the rooms Roger had designated for us within a sprawling three-story apartment complex that resembled a bunch of log cabins stacked on top of one another. It was really weird and had obviously been here for a while. Roger had apparently inherited managing this place when he became alpha of the North American pack. “Remember that spell in the Mages’ Guild battle that judged if people were good or bad?”
Her face screwed up as she thought back. She nodded slowly. “I probably shouldn’t have cast it, though. It’s not for me, or magic, to judge who is good or bad. And really, are people either good…or bad? After being down in the Underworld and spending some time with your dad, I think everyone has
the ability to be both.”
I twisted my mouth to the side. “Yeah, I guess,” I said in frustration. “It’s just…how are we going to get rid of the bad elves so the good elves, or someone else who knows how to rule, and the Realm can step forward?”
“You’re not planning on wiping them all out?” Cahal asked.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem wiping them all out today,” Penny said. “Or…yesterday? My sense of time is all over the place.”
“I mean, sure, if they are trying to kill me, I will absolutely destroy them.”
I reached the door to the confused apartment building and pulled it open, stepping to the side so the others could go through. Cahal grabbed the edge over my head and motioned me in. He never let a woman enter a doorway behind him, and I’d never asked if it was a gentlemanly thing, or he just didn’t trust women. Probably a bit of both, since he was hot but unattached. More than one gal had probably wanted to stick something in his back for breaking her heart, or just cling to those muscles.
“But if they put down their weapons and ask for mercy…if they agree to tear down the restrictions limiting the Underworld, then…” I shrugged. “It’s like what you just said, Penny—it’s not for me to play god. The Realm needs stability, and killing everyone isn’t a good way to achieve that.”
“You sound like a grownup,” Emery said.
“I know.” I grimaced. “Can we still be friends?”
“Oh, we’re friends now?” I could hear the laughter in his voice. “I thought I was just allowed to hang around because of Penny.”
“Don’t ruin it, or you’ll be on the outside again,” Penny murmured. She’d probably just elbowed him.
“It was spoken like a true leader,” Cahal said in a deep voice dripping with respect.
“Gross,” I replied, uncomfortable and not sure why.
I stopped at my door, number six, and noticed someone had stuck stickers to the sides of the metal number. Two additional sixes, three in all. Cute.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” I turned the handle and pushed, feeling Darius waiting for me within. He’d probably need blood, and I was eager to give it to him. While naked.
“Yup.” The others continued on, heading to their rooms down the hall.
Once inside, I closed the door and locked it. I doubted any vampires would be stupid enough to interrupt our slumber, but someone else might, and I wanted to buy myself a second to wake up before I confronted them. Everyone had spies; I couldn’t imagine the elves were any different.
The door to the bathroom was open, and I passed it on my way down the little hallway to the rest of the room. The rectangular interior was basically fashioned like a hotel room, with one large bed in the middle, a desk to the side, and a small seating area.
I stopped abruptly when I saw the individual sitting in one of the two uncomfortable armchairs facing an equally uncomfortable loveseat, upholstered in a green flowery pattern. There went my fake-evening.
Twelve
“Ah crap, now what?” I asked, starting forward again as Ja looked up, her petite frame and pretty face proving the cliché “you can’t judge a book by its cover” accurate. “Come to ask for another favor? Would you like us to get you out of the shifter commune this time?”
She smiled, and I broke out in shivers. It wasn’t a pleasant sentiment coming from her.
Darius glanced up as I came around the loveseat.
“Good evening, mon coeur,” Darius said, standing up out of respect, and then sitting down again as I did. “How was your dinner?”
“Very rare.” I watched Ja closely. You just never knew when she’d rush you, I’d come to realize. “What’s this about? Trading pleasantries with friends?”
“Your wit never gets old,” Ja said, and though it wasn’t said sarcastically, she meant it that way.
“We were waiting for you, though I’m not sure why.” Darius entwined his fingers with mine and then thought, She is up to something. Be on your guard.
“She’s always up to something,” I said out loud, because that really wasn’t a secret, and Ja didn’t have any feelings to hurt.
Ja crossed one knee over the other, her pink satin gown very strange for a shifter compound, where the fashion of choice seemed to be a mountain-man style involving lots of plaid. Even Darius had dressed down to a less flashy look of jeans and a gray button-up. A little clutch sat on the ground next to her, and I wondered if she’d just come from a ball or dinner party or something. I didn’t mention that, though. I didn’t need another comment about my wit.
“Being that relations are somewhat…strained between you and Vlad, Darius,” Ja began, “I thought you might want the truth of the past.”
What my father had said about Vlad’s skeletons rattled through my brain.
“Of course,” Darius said after a brief pause, probably thinking along the same lines.
“The nature in which you were made was a lie,” she said with a voice as silky as her dress.
I thought back to the story Darius had told me in Seattle, before I gave him blood for the first time. The memory was fuzzy, since it had happened before the vampire bond upgrade, but I recalled that he’d been besotted with a very beautiful woman. He’d wanted to marry her even though it was a bad match for whatever reason. But she was a religious fanatic, and somehow she got it into her head that he was a vampire. Quite ironic, since she ended up playing a pivotal role in him becoming one.
She’d lured him with the promise of a secret rendezvous, only to have him killed when he showed up. The attackers didn’t do the job properly, however, and he lay there for hours, near death. It was then Vlad had found him, apparently, and changed him into a vampire.
We hadn’t talked about it since that night. I’d honestly forgotten about it. Probably a dick thing to do, but in all fairness, I’d had a lot on my mind.
“Go on,” Darius said.
“The woman you suspected did hire those men to kill you,” Ja said. “She did think you were a vampire.”
“I am well aware, yes,” Darius replied.
“She didn’t come to that conclusion by herself, however.” Ja smiled sweetly. “Did you never wonder why a woman of minimal education became convinced you were a vampire after finding a few artifacts in your home?”
“Thinking people were vampires was very in vogue at the time,” Darius replied.
“It was and it wasn’t. I remember that time well. I was accused a few times myself, but always by people who had pretty obvious clues to go by, such as always being out at night but never in the day, the deaths of my lovers, that sort of thing. You didn’t have those obvious signs, correct?”
Darius watched her, not saying anything.
“A dish with an image, a trinket, and the shape of your bushes?” She clucked her tongue. “Quite a leap.”
I wondered how she’d known all of that, because Darius’s lack of a reaction confirmed it was true. Her evidence was clearly giving weight to the big reveal that would happen sometime soon. My stomach twisted in anticipation. This wouldn’t be good news. I could see the painting on the wall.
“She was a religious fanatic, yes, but the signs she thought she’d found were not obvious. They were occult in nature. Only someone educated would’ve guessed at their meaning.”
“Debatable,” he said in a strong voice, but I could feel the turmoil roiling through him.
Her eyes sparkled. She was enjoying this.
“She was very beautiful,” Ja said.
“Yes, she was,” Darius replied, joining Ja’s little dance. The wait was killing me.
“You met her in the village, correct? She pulled the damsel-in-distress routine? What was it that happened, again?”
Darius tilted his head a little, anger starting to work through him. I couldn’t tell if it was because of Ja, or being bamboozled by someone he’d almost let himself love.
“Her bonnet flew off, and she rushed into the lane to get it. She was nearly tram
pled by a horse,” Darius responded. “I pulled her out of the way.”
“Yes, that’s right. That horse—it was pulling a carriage, correct?”
Darius inclined his head. Yes, it was.
“Do you remember the crest?”
So many feelings exploded through the bond that I couldn’t comprehend or even name them. “I do not.”
She reached down, picked up the clutch, opened it, and extracted a piece of paper. It was the only thing in there. She leaned forward and passed it to him.
He unfolded the paper and surveyed the design without comment.
The suspense was too much. “Do you recognize it?” I asked.
“It is Vlad’s family crest, when he needs one,” Darius answered as he folded the paper back up. “Ja is insinuating that Vlad orchestrated my misfortune and put me in a position where I would need saving. He kept me alive long enough to turn me into a vampire, his goal since before I’d even met Ernesta, apparently.”
Ja nodded.
I closed one eye and screwed up my face. “Except…that seems like a lot of work for a guy that now just invites people to parties under false pretenses, feeds them a drink, and voila, new vampire. Why would he go through so much trouble?”
“Things were different then,” Ja said. “We weren’t nearly as organized as we are now. We didn’t have the same resources. It was important to be a lot more secretive at that time.”
Cold anger bubbled within Darius. I should feel bad for him. All this time he’d believed one thing, and the truth was a different thing entirely. I knew I should feel bad, but…wasn’t that kind of what he did to people, too? He didn’t do it anymore because of me, but he’d turned a great many people into vampires over his long life, and I doubted he’d asked most of them for permission. He definitely had not said sorry. Obviously many had forgiven him, or he wouldn’t have been able to gather hundreds of vampires for this coming battle, but still. Being mad was like the pot calling the kettle black.
Battle With Fire Page 13
