by Rye Brewer
I’d begged off, encouraging the others to go about their normal business without me. They didn’t need to protect me for once. They could be free for the night. The way several pairs of eyes had lit upon hearing this wasn’t lost on me. I weighed them down.
They wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer. I was doing the right thing, for sure.
I chose only what I absolutely needed to take with me—including one of Gage’s shirts, one which reminded me the most of him—and shoved it into a backpack before slinging the pack over one shoulder and heading out of my room.
The silence all around me had an eerie feel to it, considering the number of skulls I passed as I tiptoed along the length of the tunnel. They watched, silent as always, witnessing what I was endeavoring to do. If they held an opinion, they didn’t share. Just as well.
I reached the hub, with its spokes, and took the tunnel leading to the entrance. I could only hope none of them would come back early and run into me. If Micah found out…
What would he do? A flash of rebelliousness went off in my head. What could he possibly do to me? I wasn’t a child. He didn’t control me.
Right?
I made it down the tunnel and up the stairs to the overgrown, long-abandoned restrooms without being spotted.
The night was crisp, chill, and I took deep gulps of air once I reached the weed-choked courtyard behind the iron fence. All I’d have to do would be to go through the hole in the fence and out to the street, and I would be free.
Free for what? To destroy myself? I still didn’t know exactly where I was going, but I had money left from what Gage and I had brought with us. I could get a hotel room, even if it was a crummy little hole-in-the-wall. I didn’t need much. Just privacy. No questions.
“Decided to go hunting after all?”
Naomi’s voice startled me to the point where I dropped my bag.
“Oh, God, you almost scared me to death.” I laughed, one hand over my chest.
Damn it! What would she say? Would she tell the others?
“What are you doing out here?” she whispered, emerging from the shadows.
“Were you waiting here for me?” I took a backward step to put space between us. I didn’t like the look in her eyes. They had never gleamed as they did now—at least, not when she was looking at me.
“Yes,” she admitted simply, shrugging. “I knew you had a plan. You were a bit too eager to be left alone.”
“You knew I was going to sneak out?”
“I did.”
“You didn’t try to stop me. You didn’t tell anyone else.”
“I did not.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody needs to know. Especially not our mutual friend, who shall remain nameless at this time.”
Why was she being so strange? Her voice was strained, as though she was in pain and struggled through it.
“What’s wrong, Naomi? You seem…”
“Unwell?” she asked with a scornful laugh. “Perhaps I am. It’s just that I’ve been fighting myself for days. There’s something I absolutely must do, but I don’t want to. Have you ever battled something like this? Knowing there’s a course of action you need to take but being unwilling or unhappy over it?”
“Of course,” I replied as my mind fought through what she was saying.
What did it mean to me? Was she going to hurt me? I was still young and strong enough I thought I’d be able to overpower her if it came down to that, though I didn’t want to fight her or anyone.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I decided to leave anyway.”
Her laugh—warm, genuine, a laugh I had heard so many times—rang out through the night air, surprising me enough that I laughed, too.
“I do like you, Cari. I like you very much. Which is why I have to do what’s causing me so much pain.”
I braced myself, my senses on alert, the nerves jumping under my skin. What was she about to do? “You’re in pain? Why?” I asked, stalling, hoping she didn’t have any tricks up her sleeve.
“Because I don’t want to betray him. I’ve… I’ve loved him for so long.” She raised her head slightly, the moonlight dancing off her face and illuminating tear-filled eyes. “I know I shouldn’t. I know he probably doesn’t even deserve it. He’s never been very good to me, after all. He’s never treated me as though I were any more than a diversion.”
I struggled to keep up, knowing who she meant but unable to work out how she could possibly be betraying him now. Unless she planned on helping me escape while knowing how it would upset him. Could that be it?
She went on. “He has many good qualities. He’s smart, he’s a leader. He’s generous to a point. I’m certain when he was human, before he was so badly hurt, he was a good man. Your Gage is a good man. They were friends. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” I had wondered about that very thing, hadn’t I? But what was she getting at?
Her shoulders slumped as she shook her head. “I’m kidding myself. I search and search for good things about him. Some shred of decency, some humanity. That’s all gone now. A century and more have wiped it away.”
“What has he done?” I dared ask, afraid of the answer. “How could you possibly betray him right now?”
Her full mouth curved into a slow, sad smile. “You’re such a sweet, precious girl. I wish we could be friends, real friends. Perhaps this is the first step in building a friendship I know I would’ve cherished if given a chance. You truly don’t know what he’s done? You don’t have even the slightest inkling of suspicion?”
I was at a loss. She was swimming fast, her strokes sure and strong, while I splashed around in a doggie paddle. Going nowhere.
“No. What am I missing?”
Something rustled in the leaves.
“Not here. Come with me,” she whispered, taking me by the hand before I could protest and dragging me back to the door leading to the stairs, nearly running down the tunnel and not slowing until we reached my room.
“This isn’t where I need to be right now,” I protested when she finally let go of me.
“It is. For now, it is.” She looked back and forth down the tunnel before stepping inside and closing the curtain behind us. We stood in the far corner, Naomi with her finger to her lips as she strained to hear any sound coming from the catacombs.
“We’re alone,” I mouthed.
She nodded. “All right. What I have to tell you, I have to tell quickly. There’s a chance any of them could come back at any time. We don’t want to be overheard.”
“What is it, it already?” I was about ready to scream, she was being so cryptic.
“It’s been over fifty years,” she whispered, her eyes boring into mine, my hands in hers. “His name was Xavier, and I loved him. He was my mate. We had been with the clan for the better part of a decade by then. One night, he disappeared.”
My eyes widened. “When? How?”
“I never knew exactly how. I only know he went out to hunt without me one night and never came back. The details were never revealed to me.”
My heart ached for her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
She nodded, the rest of the story coming out in a rush. “Micah. He tried to comfort me, tried to make it better. But I grew suspicious of him. It seemed a bit soon to be, for lack of a better expression, putting the moves on me. That’s how we described it back then. Insensitive of him, I thought at first, but then I began to wonder if he had anything to do with Xavier’s disappearance. I told myself I was merely creating stories to soothe myself. But his description of what happened that night—he was with Xavier, you see—started to change, depending on when he was telling it. He saw a car drive away with my Xavier inside. Then, it was a group of men without a car who carried him off. Then, he simply vanished.”
A chill crept into my bones, freezing me from the inside out. A car. While Micah was nearby.
“Finally, I began following him
when he went out alone. I wanted to know where he went on the nights he wasn’t hunting. There’s an old prison, unused since the early nineteenth century, miles outside the city. He would disappear inside then come out alone. After three such instances, I waited for him to leave before going in to see what he was doing there.”
“What was inside?” I breathed, completely captivated and horrified all at once. Afraid to hear the rest but aware I would die if I didn’t.
“My Xavier. What used to be Xavier, at any rate. He’d starved for months by then, my poor beloved.” Tears, pink-tinged, ran freely down her cheeks. “In a cell. He was nearly unrecognizable except for the clothing. And his eyes. The eyes were his. Oh, my love.” She hung her head.
“What had happened to him?”
“He’d bitten off his own tongue,” she wept. I gasped. “He was starving, starving, going mad with it. Starvation doesn’t kill a vampire. It merely turns them into something beyond any imagining. It destroys the mind as well as the body. It’s the worst torture imaginable.”
“Was he still alive?”
She shook her head. “I never knew if he died because of what he’d done to himself, or because…”
“Of Micah,” I breathed, sick with certainty.
“He wanted me. You see? He put my poor Xavier in that cell because he wanted me. Or because they’d fought, because of some perceived slight. I’ve never known for certain. I only know Micah knew he was there and visited more than once and did nothing to get him out. It stands to reason, then, that he was the one who put him there.”
“You think…” I fell back against the wall, still holding her hands but unable to support my weight any longer. “You think that’s what he did to Gage?”
“He wants you, ma cherie. He’s mad for you. He would do anything. And…”
“And?”
“And I don’t believe he ever quite forgave Gage for letting Georgina die. I know that story. I’ve spent many hours in his bed—oh, the times I’ve chastised myself for what I’ve become to him. What I allowed myself to become in spite of what I always knew he was capable of.”
“Why did you? How could you, knowing as you did?”
She raised her eyebrows, shaking her head with an expression of baffled regret. “I knew I needed him. That’s the hold he has on all of us. None of us believes we can make it in this world without the others. You know how there are men who lead cults? Who convince people of certain things which the rest of the world knows are patently false?”
“Sure.”
“That’s the case here, I believe. I did fall in love with him—or something like it. Nothing like what I had before, but a shadow of it. Even knowing what I’ve always known, but never had the courage to ask. Or perhaps I’ve never been crazy enough to ask. It doesn’t strain credulity to imagine how enraged he could become. What he might do to me.”
“Oh, Naomi. I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t imagine.
“I did ask him about it,” she whispered. “Or, rather, I hinted. He refused to take the bait. But he was unsettled. Greatly so. I came a little too close to the truth for his comfort.”
My entire body tingled. Gage. Was he going through the same torture Naomi had described?
“What can I do? I have to find him. I can’t let this go on.”
“And you won’t. We won’t. But there’s one thing you must remember, absolutely and completely. You cannot forget this even for a minute.”
“What is it?”
She squeezed my hands until they ached. “You cannot let him know you know. Under any circumstances. Or he might kill Gage just to cover his tracks.”
24
Gage
At first, I was certain the footsteps were only in my head. Yet another sick hallucination. I didn’t know what was real anymore—except my thirst.
That was real. It was everything.
I bit back a groan as I raised my head to look through the iron bars. I couldn’t move without groaning, moaning, crying out. Or just crying. The tears no longer came. My eyes were too dry.
The snap-snap-snap of shoes on the bare floor grew louder. I couldn’t be imagining the sounds. They were too sharp and clear. But I had already seen so many things, heard so many things that could only have been in my head.
Terrible things.
“My old friend.”
Micah again.
I had seen him many times. He had never spoken, though, choosing instead to stand outside the bars and stare with cold contempt. This was new.
I forced my eyes open, fixing them on him. It took a moment to bring him into focus, but I wasn’t surprised once I did. He appeared much the same as always: handsome, sleek, well-groomed.
“You’ve looked better,” he observed with a wry smile, as though he was reading my thoughts about him. “I suspect you’ve felt better, too.”
“Is…? Are…?” My throat was so dry, it felt as though it bled when I tried to speak.
“Don’t tire yourself,” he urged. “I’m really here, if that’s what you want to know. This is real. Not some horrible hallucination brought on by starvation.”
I didn’t have the strength to laugh. “How would you know?” I croaked.
“That starvation brings on hallucinations?” He laughed then, as though this was truly amusing. “You think you’re the first person I’ve introduced to this old place? I’m no amateur, my friend. I know very well the stages of starvation and what a vampire is willing to do to stave them off. Have you yet made the acquaintance of the many plump rats who call this prison home?”
I grimaced. He merely laughed again.
“I thought not, in all honesty. You have too much pride. You’re too… good to sink to that level.”
There was only one thing I wanted to hear from him. “Cari?”
His eyebrows arched. “What about her? Come on. You can do it. Just tell me what it is you want to know, and I’ll tell you.” His chuckle was cold, nasty. “All right. I won’t torment you. She’s fine. Wonderful, in fact. Beautiful as ever, as strong a huntress as ever. Magnificent.”
Good. At least she was safe and well. I could take a shred of solace in that.
“Don’t you want to know if she misses you? If she worries about you?”
I shook my head, leaning it back against the wall. It hurt like hell, but I managed to conquer the worst of my reaction. I didn’t yell or moan like a pitiful animal. That could come when he was long gone.
His handsome face crumpled in a frown of displeasure. “Why not? I would want to know. It would rip me to shreds, wondering if my love ever thought about me.”
He didn’t understand, and there was no way I could explain. I didn’t need to ask because I knew. She would miss me. She would fear for me. It was her nature. He couldn’t change that about her no matter how he tried.
Instead of replying to this, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”
That stunned him. “Sorry? For what?”
My limited strength was already all but spent. I summoned all I had in order to stay conscious and lucid. “Georgina.”
He shuddered visibly then raised his chin. “Why?” he challenged.
“You were right. I… could have done more. I could have… fought for you, as… you would have for me. I could have fought for her. I didn’t. Not as a friend should.”
His eyes narrowed, and he didn’t speak for a long time. Just as well, since I needed to rest after expending so much energy. I didn’t know where it was coming from—perhaps some deity had taken pity on me and would allow me this much, if nothing more.
“Where is this newfound understanding coming from?” he finally asked.
The life was gone from his voice. He was no longer taunting, teasing, enjoying himself.
“I understand now, because I love her. I had never loved before.”
“Ah. I see.” He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing further. “You’ve been in my shoes, so to speak, and you know what it is to love another enough to break the most seriou
s of laws. Laws of both men and vampires. Is that right?”
I nodded.
“Good.” He smiled. “You’ll have plenty of time to think this over. All the pain your weakness, your laziness, your inability to put yourself in another’s place caused. You can think about it while Cari warms my bed.”
My mouth fell open in surprise. I’d underestimated the depth of his hatred and cruelty—not that I had expected him to release me after what I’d said, but I hadn’t expected him to grow even colder.
He was chuckling as he turned away, his footsteps echoing as he left me.
“You’ll have roughly as long to think it over as I’ve been missing the love of my life, old friend. If you survive that long.”
25
Jonah
“What are you all doing here?” I couldn’t have come up with a less likely cast of characters if I’d tried. Philippa? Scott? Fane? What had brought all of them together?
My fangs descended the instant my eyes landed on Vance. “Wait. Why is he here?” I was already halfway across the living room before Fane stepped in front of me, holding me back when I tried to get past him.
“It’s all right, Jonah. Valerius is dead now. We took care of it.”
“It’s true,” Philippa added, rushing to protect Vance. I should’ve known she would. “There’s a pile of dust in the vault that used to be Valerius. This is Vance.”
“And I’m exhausted.” Vance offered a weak smile. “It’s good to see you. I’m sorry for the trouble you’ve been through.”
I couldn’t make sense of anything. “How did you free him? How did this happen?”
“I’ll give you the short version,” Fane offered. “I found a caster in Duskwood and the same necromancer who first moved Nivia into your mother’s body. They performed the spell which placed Valerius back into his body. The necromancer, Elazar, killed him and disappeared.”
I stared at my father’s face as he told his story and wondered, silently, why he looked slightly different. There was no way to tell exactly where the difference was, but it was there.
