by M. A. Grant
* * *
It was midday by the time they reached the logging camp. He parked near the other cars. For the first time since they’d started the drive, Daria spoke. “They were in the van?”
“Yes,” Atlas said. “The last of them.”
Daria nodded and looked out the windshield to the van. It didn’t matter if the sun was so high above them they no longer had shadows. It didn’t matter if Atlas told her there were no strigoi to be found. The battle raging in her head would drown out all other thoughts.
He cleared his throat and told her quietly, “Join me when you’re ready.” He didn’t look back when he got out of the car and headed for her truck.
He made sure to walk by the van slowly, so he could prove to her it was safe. The breeze kicking up by the river had swirled the ashes around in the back of the van, mingling them into an indistinguishable mass. He continued on.
The truck keys were still in the ignition and he sent up a prayer of thanks when the engine turned over immediately. He turned it off and glanced up to find Daria making her way slowly to the van.
She approached the open back doors with a wide berth, craning her head to peer inside. Only when she was sure nothing would leap out at her did she dare venture closer. He looked away, wanting her to have privacy for this moment. It wouldn’t bring her closure. Nothing would ease the pain of having her family ripped away from her, from nearly losing her life. But it was a step toward securing a safer future.
She joined him in the truck a while later. She’d wiped away the tear tracks, but her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She stared out at the van and the empty buildings, secure in their shared silence. After a long time, she said, “I thought seeing them dead would help.”
Atlas sat quietly.
“It hasn’t done shit,” she said, voice dropping and growing heavy with rage. “It doesn’t change anything.” She spun to him. “How do we know there’s not more of these out there? How do we know we’ve stopped it from happening again?”
“We don’t,” Atlas said honestly. “Until I call the family that runs this territory, we don’t know anything.”
“One of their own created the strigoi,” Daria snarled. “They allowed it to happen. Why would they worry about them now?”
“Because the vampire Council is investigating them over the deaths caused by the strigoi. If they can’t prove their innocence in creating them, they’ll be executed, and the man who wants to take over is a true monster. The one thing I have learned about vampires since I started working with Cristian is that they value time and power. Death steals both of those.”
“They’ll turn on each other to prove they shouldn’t be the one to take the fall,” Daria said. She shook her head. “They sound so—”
“So?”
Her fists clenched. “So human,” she admitted.
“More than you know,” Atlas agreed. He opened his door and started to climb out of the truck. “You lead. I’ll follow. And once we get back to your place, I’ll have Radu help me reach out to the family.”
“I don’t like this,” Daria warned him as she slid across the bench seat to take position behind the wheel.
“Neither do I, but it’s all we can do.”
The sense of foreboding didn’t lift when they arrived back at the farm, despite the sunny sky overhead. They parked and walked to the barn. Cristian lay where Atlas had placed him, on an unfolded blanket near one of the walls. He hadn’t moved and his eyes were still closed. Radu was in better shape than before. He was still groggy, but he eyed them with interest when they stepped into the tack room. The electric lantern Daria had set up made his hazel eyes flash between green and blue when he flicked his gaze between them.
“You look like a man on a mission,” he remarked as Atlas pulled a phone out of his pocket.
It was the one he’d pulled off Emil, Atlas realized with mild irritation. He must have slipped it into the same pocket when he was bringing everything in from the car. He dug around and pulled out the phone he and Cristian had been using on the trip. “I need to call your family.”
“I’ll do it.” Radu held out his hand expectantly. “I need to let them know I’m alive.”
“No,” Atlas said. “Something’s wrong. With Cristian recovering, I won’t risk bringing the Council down on our heads. Give me a direct number to Crina or Bogdan.”
Radu scowled at him, which would have been far more intimidating if he weren’t still lying down on the floor of a barn, trying to get back his strength after surviving Emil’s ordeals. Atlas held firm. His thumb hovered over the numbers, waiting for Radu to cave. The stalemate dragged on until Daria made a noise in the back of her throat and made a cutting remark to Radu. The vampire gaped at her, so Atlas would have to ask what she’d said later. Her intervention worked though. Radu’s gaze slid from Daria to Atlas and he finally mumbled out a number.
Atlas dialed it and put the phone on speaker for Daria’s sake; Radu would be able to hear it either way. He was about to hang up and try again when the line picked up. Crina’s confident voice began speaking in Romanian, fast enough Atlas’s head spun. When she paused, he cleared his throat and said cautiously, in English, “Good evening. This is Joseph Billings. My partner and I visited recently and had to leave to make room for your new guests. I was hoping to speak to you about our travels so far.”
“I’m afraid now isn’t a good time, Mr. Billings,” Crina said, switching smoothly to English. She sounded the consummate professional, and for a moment Atlas worried she didn’t recognize his voice or the pseudonym he’d been given on their falsified paperwork. That fear was allayed a moment later when she continued with, “Despite your partner’s political immunity, your earlier travel arrangements have been rescinded in light of the attack.”
“Attack?”
“Yes,” Crina said. “The creatures who assaulted the Council’s team during their meeting at the former Dunării nest have been dealt with. However, due to the event, Voivode Grigore has ordered all foreign nationals to report immediately to his new residence here in Braşov. He and the Council’s tribunal will work together to interview you and ensure you were not aiding the Dunării family’s pursuit of illegally holding and using feral vampires to control their populace. If they find evidence of such a crime, you will meet the same fate as the Dunării family.”
His gut pitched and Radu made a wounded sound. Crina must have heard it, but gave no acknowledgment of it. “Any recent or future contact you have with Ileana Dunării must be reported immediately to the voivode or one of his ispáns in the nearest territory,” she continued. “The voivode has also installed his vice-ispáns in the lounges of all national airports, and they have been briefed on how to transfer your report properly. Is that clear?”
Daria watched him with open confusion, while Radu had struggled to his feet and gripped the wall of the tack room for balance. His eyes were wild and Atlas could see the grief threatening to break loose in him.
“Yes, it is clear,” Atlas said. He wished he could thank Crina for giving them the coded warning. Instead, all he could do was lie, “We will report to Braşov.”
“We shall expect you promptly,” Crina said. She paused for a moment too long before adding, “And please share these new expectations with any other loyalists to the treacherous Dunării family. Displaying allegiance to the voivode is the only way forward.”
The moment he hung up, Daria asked, “What does that mean?” at the same moment Radu’s rage burst forth with a bellow of, “I’ll kill him!”
He ignored Daria for the time being. Radu was the greater threat—not to them, but to himself. Atlas held up his hands, a gentle warning to Radu to stay put. “I’m sorry,” he said, hoping the grieving vampire heard the sincerity in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”
“Atlas, what is going on?” Daria demanded again. She kept a wary eye on Radu, who had giv
en up the fight and slid back down to the ground, where his sobs could shake through him without toppling him.
“A coup,” Atlas said. Blunt was better. Radu’s grief wouldn’t be assuaged by pretty euphemisms. “Our allies, Radu’s family, are dead. Grigore took power and is using the Council to find anyone who may be able to uncover his crimes. He’s closing off all exits out of the country.”
“What?” Daria whispered.
“We’ve got to get out,” Atlas said grimly. “And we’re going to have to drive. No airports within Romania are safe.”
Radu’s laugh was wet and horrible. “When news of this spreads, even airports in surrounding countries will be unsafe,” he said. “And I no longer have my family’s money or name to help us.”
Atlas set that information aside for the time and knelt near Cristian. He reached out and brushed the hair from his brow, frowning at the deep chill of his skin. “How long will he be unconscious?” Atlas asked Radu.
“I don’t know,” Radu admitted. “He was already weak when he fed me.”
“And I didn’t have long to feed him either,” Atlas murmured, skimming his thumb along Cristian’s jaw. “I hope it was enough.”
“Did you hold back?” Radu asked him seriously. He didn’t need to say what he meant. Atlas understood it was about more than blood.
“No,” Atlas promised. “Not anymore.”
“Give him more time,” Radu suggested. “He’ll come around.”
Daria huffed from her place near the door. “We can’t afford more time.”
“We can,” Atlas said. “We just have to use it well. We need to pack and load up the car.”
“Atlas, how are we going to pull this off?” Daria asked.
“Thanks to Crina we know the airports are closed. We’re already close to a land border. You know this area and the different crossings, right?”
She nodded.
“Good. We’ll get past the Ukrainian border and go from there.” He hadn’t spent much time in that country, but there were bases there. If they got desperate, he could try to dig up some contacts. And it was better than staying put and waiting for Grigore to find them when Emil didn’t check in. “We also need the car because it’s the only vehicle we have with glass that will keep Cristian and Radu safe. We’ll be able to travel during the day. More distance with less time. Grigore now has access to similar vehicles, so we can’t afford to wait and let them catch up with us.”
He waited for Daria to ask another question, to air her concerns, but she didn’t. Subject closed, he went on, “I’ll come inside with you to help. Radu, call if Cristian wakes up. We’ll hear you.”
“So organized,” Radu mused. “What were you before Cristian hired you as his bodyguard?”
“Ex-Marine,” Atlas said, rising from Cristian’s side. “You’ll call us?”
Radu waved a hand at them. “Go. I’ve got this covered.”
He seemed bored, but Atlas knew better. Such deep sorrow burned hot and fast. He deserved privacy in those first agonizing moments when reality set in. Atlas knew it would have helped him after his platoon’s loss.
Come on, Cristian, Atlas begged silently as he followed Daria out of the barn and to the house. I don’t want to do this without you. Come back to me.
* * *
When Cristian cracked open his eyes and took stock of his body, he learned two things very swiftly. First, his neck ached and his headache made him want to claw out his eyes. Second, Radu kept yelling for Atlas and if Cristian could figure out where he was, he was going to rip out his eyes, friend or not.
“Shut up,” Cristian growled, each word cutting like a shard of glass on its way out.
Radu did.
His nose warned he wasn’t lying down inside Daria’s house. This place smelled of dust and old straw and fresh air, and when he finally forced himself to open his eyes, he hummed at the sight of the barn walls around him. He turned his head to the side, wincing a little when the still healing muscles pulled from the movement, and spotted Radu sitting across the way, watching him intently.
“You’re back,” his friend said.
“Mostly,” Cristian agreed. “Where’s A—”
Footsteps pounded toward them and their small, sun-proof room. A moment later, the door swung open. Atlas stood in the doorway, chest heaving, staring at Cristian, and Cristian alone in the entire world.
The intensity of Atlas’s gaze burned over Cristian’s skin, and he couldn’t help but smile. “There you are,” he said.
“Cristian,” Atlas breathed. He crossed the room in a few wide paces and knelt beside him, hands outstretched, but carefully not making contact. “You’re okay?”
“Sore,” he said. “Very. You?”
He expected Atlas to launch into an update on everything he’d missed, or to start lecturing him on foolishly jumping in the way. Instead, Atlas leaned down and kissed him soundly, but with a restraint born from concern about his injuries. Cristian sighed when Atlas pulled away. Atlas rested a hand on his shoulder, skimming back and forth over his collarbone with a thumb. “Alive,” Atlas said at last, still drinking in the sight of him. “We’re still alive.”
“How long have I been out?”
“A few hours. Can you move?”
The rush of sitting up left him wincing and clutching at his head, but he managed it. Standing was harder. Atlas ended up supporting him with a hand at his elbow, and waited for Cristian to stop hissing in pain at every heartbeat. Only when the discomfort lessened to manageable amounts did he dare lift his head to glance around.
At some point, Daria joined them. He was truly feeling like shit if he hadn’t noticed her entrance. “Atlas told you about the strigoi?” he asked her.
“And more,” Daria agreed. “They’re no longer the worst of our worries.”
Cristian frowned and looked up to Atlas, who wore an expression of stoic resignation. “What’s that mean?”
“Grigore used the strigoi and the Council to overthrow Mihai and his family. He’s been given control of the territory and is hunting for us. We were just waiting on you to leave.”
Cristian’s mind raced. Radu’s family dead. Grigore covering all his previous crimes with the strigoi. The Council fooled through a well-timed distraction. No safe passage. No allies. He tried to laugh, but it came out pained and gruff. “And go where?”
“Ukraine,” Daria said. “I know where we can cross the border.”
“How do we get back to Scarsdale?” Cristian asked Atlas.
He frowned. “I’m working on it.”
“Have you called my father?”
Atlas shook his head slowly. “I needed to know you’d wake up before I reached out to him.”
“I’m awake now,” Cristian assured him. “Give me the phone.”
It was sweet how Atlas didn’t release him, even as he struggled to pull the cell phone from his pocket. Except, Cristian didn’t recognize the one in his hand. He snagged it from Atlas’s grip and examined it. “Whose is this?”
“I got it off Emil,” Atlas said, fishing out their real phone. “He didn’t put a code on it.”
“Only called one number too,” Cristian mused. “If Grigore picks up, we’ll have the proof the Council needs to show it wasn’t your father, Radu.” Before Atlas could comment, he hit dial and lifted the phone to his ear. Atlas tried to protest until Cristian elbowed him with a scowl, and then settled for leaning close to listen in on the call.
On the third ring, the other end crackled and Helias’s familiar voice said, “I need to call you back,” before hanging up.
“Fuck,” Cristian breathed as he stared at the screen and the glowing, taunting number there. He glanced at Atlas, his face frozen in an expression of stony rage. “Well, this complicates things.”
* * *
Acknowledgments
Matt—This has been a beast of a few months. Thank you for getting us a house, moving us across a country and a half, and ensuring I’m still able to meet my writing deadlines. You’re my hero and I love you.
Deidre and the Knight Agency—My continued thanks for your support and encouragement, especially when things get busy!
Ronan—We’re halfway there already! Thank you for your patience with this book, as well as all the pep talks you’ve given me through email and comments as I try to pull this together in unusual circumstances.
The amazing staff at Carina—I am so grateful for your expertise and professionalism. It’s a joy to know my book is safe in your hands.
Layla and Hailey—You have both kept me alive during this madness. Blessings heaped upon you for the pictures, the ARCs of your books that I can use to reward myself, the writing advice, and the general awesomeness you both embody. You are both rock stars of the highest caliber!
Kari, Kris, and Emily—Even if I haven’t been online much, catching up in the chats has been wonderful, and your continued support for my chaotic writing is a true gift. I can’t wait to catch up with you all soon (since I finally have internet)!
Squad—Our adventures continue.
Connie and Russ—Thank you for giving me a place to stay and work, and for feeding me, while we waited for our house to close. Best writing retreat ever!
My family and friends—Without all your help moving us in, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you for your patience when I had to work on revisions instead of hang out while you visited. Marmee, I love my new writing office and can’t wait to put it to good use.
To my readers—I struggle writing this acknowledgment for you every time. How can I possibly thank you enough for supporting my writing journey and giving my wacky ideas a try? I’ve said it before, I’ll keep saying it until I’m gone, but this wouldn’t be possible without you. Thank you for reading my stories, for chatting with me, for recommending me to your friends and families and neighbors and random strangers, because what you’re doing is amazing. I meet more of you with every book I publish; I treasure that. So...from a stressed out, newly moved writer who has no idea what she’s doing, all my love!
