by Rye Brewer
“Why would there be another war?”
“The suggestion that we might put our strength behind the fae, opening ourselves to danger?” He chuckled while spreading his hands. “You’ve seen what League meetings are like. How fractious they can turn in the blink of an eye, how many varying personalities there are to contend with.”
“Genevieve, Marcus, and Lucian are no longer a concern. That ought to ease things a little.”
This didn’t seem to ease his apprehensiveness; the frown lines on his forehead were as deep as ever. “This is bound to divide us along a very clear line which has existed all along: those who believe in the rules agreed upon by the humans and the League, and those who’ve never believed we ought to play along with what the humans demanded of us.”
A chill ran down my spine at the implication. It was only because of pressure from the human world that the League agreed to rely on synthetic blood, to end the practice of hunting and feeding on humans. “You think they’ll revolt at the first chance,” I surmised.
“I think it would serve as a plausible excuse for them to do what they’ve always wanted to do, yes.” He nodded. “The only thing that’s stopped them up to his point is the threat of causing a war between the clans, even inside the clans.”
I had to ask, though I was fairly sure I knew the answer. “How do you feel about the laws set forth by the humans?”
His eyes went sharp. “You need to ask?”
“I only want to know for certain. I’ve assumed up to this point, naturally, but… if given your choice, which side would you fall on?”
He came closer. “I’m on whichever side helps us avoid a war with humans. What about you? How do you feel about it?”
When I imagined hunting—hunting in a way other than what I’d done before, tracking for the sake of killing on Marcus’s behalf—I felt sick. It could have been my fae blood that made the thought so distasteful, or perhaps it took a certain type of vampire to go through with the act. “I have no problem continuing with synthetic blood. If anything, it makes feeding easier. More predictable.”
“Much less messy,” he agreed. “I remember the stories, tales from the old days, when human hunting was nearly a sport. How ruthless a vampire had to be in order to take what they needed simply to survive. How dangerous it was to move among the humans with the intent of killing them. I’d rather not go back to those times—for it was not just the vampires who hunted. Humans hunted us, too.”
“The Starkers could still be out there somewhere,” I murmured, remembering what Sara told me about Stark.
He tilted his head to the side. “What makes you bring up that name? It’s one I haven’t heard in as long as I can remember.”
I winced. This was not something we had talked about before, as I had the feeling he wouldn’t enjoy knowing about Sara’s involvement with the warlock who created the Starkers. “Stark—he created the group, hence the name—is the warlock who Sara went to for help with her elemental training.”
Jonah went pale. “She knows him? She was involved with him?” His voice was little more than a snake’s hiss. Dangerous.
“Wait. Before you get any ideas, please, listen.”
He crossed his arms, scowling. “Now, you’ll tell me he’s changed and it’s perfectly safe to have your sister affiliated with him.”
I swallowed back my irritation with his attitude. “That’s not our business, for starters—and, yes, from what I saw of Stark, he has changed.”
“You can’t expect me to believe that.”
“He fought on our side at Shadowsbane, for one,” I explained, “and I do trust him with her.”
He scoffed, turning to continue on his way to the portal. “I’m sorry if I’m not so easily convinced.”
“You didn’t meet him,” I argued, following at his heels. “Sara would not accept his training if he was still the same person who created the Starkers. And would he want anything to do with her if he still carried that same hatred in his heart?”
Jonah replied without looking over his shoulder. “He has no heart, not if he was able to get humans to do what they did to vampires.”
“Sara would disagree.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Yes, well, something tells me Sara isn’t thinking clearly.”
“Jonah, please.” I caught up to him, took his wrist, and pulled him to a stop. “Please, let’s not fight. We need each other, more than ever. And I enjoy life much better when we’re not fighting.”
He grimaced. “Life is more enjoyable when we’re working together. That’s true. It’s disturbing to me, knowing Sara is involved with Stark. That’s all. She would break Scott’s heart in favor of…”
I nodded, waving my free hand. “I know, I know, but we both know there’s no predicting what the heart wants. Sara is on her own path—one which Scott doesn’t understand. Or approve of. Now that she’s an elemental, there’s no telling where she’ll end up. We can’t concern ourselves with that. Can we?”
He drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He seemed to deflate, to relax. “Of course. Always some bigger, more critical problem to address.”
“If that wasn’t the case, what would become of us?” I teased, trying to get him to smile, at the very least. He managed something between a smirk and a grimace. I supposed I would have to take it and be grateful.
We continued together, hand-in-hand this time. That was better than running to keep up, and he wasn’t in nearly as much of a hurry anymore. I could almost pretend we were a normal, engaged couple on the verge of starting a new life together. Almost.
“Where do you want to live once we’re married?” I asked.
He chuckled. “What an abrupt change of subject.”
“As good a subject as any. And important.”
“No, no it’s definitely important.” He shrugged. “I hadn’t given it much thought. I guess I assumed we’d be living in the high-rise. There’s plenty of room there, after all.”
“True.”
“And…” He looked down at the ground, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. He didn’t want me to see, but it was evident. “I would like to be near Elena. And Fane and Sirene, of course,” he added in a rush.
“Of course,” I agreed, biting back a grin.
“I want to be there for Elena. She won’t have the siblings I had—Gage, Philippa, Scott. We had each other, to work through the ins and outs of growing up. She’ll be an only child in their relationship, I would imagine.”
I would imagine the same. Sirene had already nearly lost her life in childbirth. The odds of her making it through another ordeal were slim, even to my uneducated mind.
I squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man. And a good brother.”
He looked at me before we stepped through the entrance to the human world, which would leave us just beyond League headquarters. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Where do you want to live?” He brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek. “You have a say in this, too.”
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to sink into his touch, if only for a moment. It was a respite from the insanity which normally colored our lives.
“Me? For me, home is wherever you are.” I smiled before standing on tiptoe for a kiss.
4
Philippa
All I could do was sit on the edge of the bed and watch Vance walk back and forth in front of the treated windows which allowed the sunlight to filter in without harming us. Having him with me still felt like a happy dream come true.
This time, it was really him. Truly. No tricks.
Now, if he would only stop behaving like a caged tiger, we would be all set.
“We have to leave,” he decided, his jaw set in a firm line. His brows drew together in an almost solid line. “As soon as possible. We can’t stay here.”
“Vance, we’ve talked about this—”
“No,” he argued, “I’ve talked about it and you argue
d the point. You’ve always had an argument.”
I gritted my teeth and reminded myself how incredible and wonderful it was to have him back with me for good. Safe, with no interference. I had to remind myself or else risk screaming at him and ruining everything. “Vance, you’re safe here. Off the grid, away from prying eyes and questions.”
“I can’t live here forever, and you know it.” He waved his hands around the room, taking in my suite which took up a corner of the penthouse. “This is nice, and generous of you to keep me here after what happened, but we both know it can’t last.”
I felt him slipping between my fingers all over again, just like when we were first together and I lost him. Why wasn’t I enough for him? I never had been, I never would be. The knowledge sent a pain to my chest.
“Am I not doing a good enough job of keeping you safe here?” I asked, twisting the bedspread with my fingers until I was close to shredding it.
“This isn’t about that!” He turned away from me, staring out the window at a world he couldn’t touch. “I’m putting you in danger by allowing you to harbor me here! Don’t you see? I’m still wanted for my father’s murder, Philippa. They think I did it. Do you honestly believe anyone in the League will accept the explanation that it was Valerius and not me?”
I winced. Of course. I wasn’t thinking straight—too much had happened too quickly. My relief at being back with him had made me forget about Lucian and Valerius for the time being. “Right. I understand. But I don’t hold anything against you—I mean, I don’t blame you for putting me in danger or anything, and I willingly accept whatever happens as a result. You’re that important to me. You know you are, don’t you?”
“I do,” he murmured, turning his head to the side enough that he might look at me from the corner of his eye. “You’ve shown me more than once. I can never repay you.”
“You don’t have to, and I would never ask you to.”
He faced me, coming closer, and his anger dissolved into contrition. “There’s another problem we haven’t yet discussed. My affiliation with Special Ops. I was assigned to track Fane. Remember?”
The memory came back to me in a rush. Being interrogated in the coffee shop, having to play the part of the airheaded party girl who knew nothing about anything of substance. All the while, I had sweated it out, terrified of giving Vance away. “Yes. I remember.”
“I can’t go back to them now with any information about him. I certainly won’t reveal him to them now, not after everything he did for me. Yet, every minute I spend with you, or anywhere near other vampires, puts me in danger of being tracked down by them. Which puts your father in danger.”
He took my face in his hands. “Do you understand? They could find out who he is, who he once was. And that you’ve known all this time. I’m a liability. Every moment, I’m a danger to you and those you love. I couldn’t live with myself if I caused you harm.”
I closed my eyes and wished I could turn back time. That we could go all the way back across the decades which had separated us. The wasted time spent apart, time in which we might have been happy. When life was so much simpler for us both.
“That’s why I have to leave town. Right away.”
When I opened my eyes, I found his full of sorrow.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stroking my cheekbones with his thumbs. He poured over me, staring, taking me in—my hair, my nose, my mouth and chin. He leaned in, brushing his lips against my forehead. “You’ll never know how sorry I am.”
While this was nice and even romantic, I could only tense up. “Why do I feel like this is goodbye?” I dared to ask, and I held my breath as I waited for the answer.
He pulled back with a frown. “I thought I explained. I need to start a new life somewhere. Where I can blend in, where I can start over with a new name. A completely new identity.”
“How do you plan on accomplishing this?”
“I have money in an account in Switzerland—more than I’ll ever need, I’m sure, since I’ll have to live a very simple life. Off the radar, off the grid, off everything.”
I did my best to process this, to come to an understanding of what he meant in the middle of the storm raging in my head. “I don’t understand why this has to be goodbye, Vance. You’re saying words and more words, but none of it adds up to our being apart.”
He screwed up his face like he’d tasted the sour blood of a rodent. “What part of this aren’t you comprehending? You could never be you again, Philippa. You would have to adopt an entirely new persona, just like I would, because if anyone met Philippa Bourke, they would wonder about the vampire she was with. One question—one—would be one question too many.”
I leapt off the bed, blood boiling. “Here’s a novel thought; why don’t you try asking me how I feel about such a possibility? Why not check in with me first? No, of course not. You would rather assume I’d prefer being here without you. Asking would be too easy. You’d rather make assumptions about me and leave it at that.” I was so angry I felt my fangs pressing to be released. I used all my self-control to regain a hold on my fury.
“Don’t snap at me,” he warned.
“I won’t allow you to leave me behind without even telling me why! You don’t want me with you at all! Isn’t that it?” I shoved him aside, going to my closet with one purpose in mind. “That’s just fine, Vance. Two can play at this game. You want to go off, galivanting around Europe all on your own? Pretending to be someone else? I can do the same thing, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and hope and wish for you to come back to me again. I’ll start something for myself, someplace new.”
“What are you talking about?” he demanded as he followed me.
I sank to my knees and pulled a suitcase out from beneath a shoe rack and threw it open. “Do you honestly think I can stay here? Alone? Without you? Everything I do, everywhere I go would only remind me of you. I can’t do it. It would be worse than death. I’ll go someplace else, then. Anywhere else.”
“Philippa, stop being dramatic.”
I knuckled tears away from my cheeks as I stood to face him again. “That’s right. Silly Philippa, being dramatic, overreacting. You have no idea what I’ve been through for your sake, Vance.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but I spoke over him before he had the chance.
“I don’t mean just since you came back to the high-rise, when Valerius pretended to be you. I mean all the days and nights I spent guarding that withered, old body. Suffering because I could only imagine what you were suffering. Torturing myself over you, over the things I said to you a lifetime ago, over all the missed chances. You’re not the only one who’s been through something.”
His face seemed to crumble as he took this in. “Philippa. Philippa, don’t cry.”
“How can you expect me not to cry? I went through this, and I told you I love you, and you said you love me, too. And then you tell me you’re running off without me—”
“I want you with me!” He pulled me into his arms without warning, wrapping me up tight until my cheek was against his chest and my tears soaked into his sweater. “I want you, always. You’re all that would make running away bearable for me—so long as I had you, I could go anywhere and be happy there.”
“Why, then?” I asked, my voice muffled against his bicep. “Why did you say you were going alone?”
“I didn’t want to put pressure on you. It means saying goodbye to everyone here. Your entire family.”
“I know. I don’t take it lightly. But you’re my family, too. I don’t want to live without you.”
“I don’t want to live without you, either. I do love you. I meant that. I’ve always loved you.” His arms tightened. “And if you’re willing to do this with me—I would never ask you to, once again, this means leaving everything here behind—I do want you to come.”
“I want to. I need to. And we’ll start a new life, and you’ll be safe.”
“We’ll to go Monaco,�
�� he announced. “I have an apartment there.”
I pulled back, looked up at him. “I thought the point of this was to hide. Wouldn’t living in an apartment which is under your name reveal your identity?”
“It isn’t under my name; it’s sort of a safehouse, under an assumed name.” When I raised an eyebrow, he smiled. “There was never any telling when I would need to get away. It’s always good to have an escape plan.”
“All right, all right.” I was willing to let that go without further probing, since after all, his foresight meant we had a place to disappear. “Even so, I would like to see Paris first, if possible. Just for a little while. It’s been forever since I last visited.”
“I think we can arrange that.” He smiled.
I left the warmth of his arms in favor of packing. This time, there were no tears, though I understood the importance of speed. “I have to tell Jonah, of course,” I said as I pulled out several dresses. I’d have to do a little shopping once we arrived in Paris, I decided.
“What?”
I glanced over my shoulder at his tone of voice. “I-I would have to tell him. I couldn’t simply disappear and expect him not to care or come looking for me. Isn’t that exactly what we’re hoping to avoid?”
“Yes…” he murmured, frowning.
“I would only tell him. Just him. And we can trust him.”
He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, head tipped back. “It isn’t that I don’t feel we can trust him. I know how trustworthy he is. It’s the burden of lying for us which concerns me. He would have to feign ignorance, and, of course, he would know the consequences of revealing us.”
I froze in the process of folding a sweater. “Right. You’re right. I’ll write him a note, telling him I’m going on vacation. That’s all. No details. So long as he doesn’t expect me to be around, we’ll be all right. And so will he.”
He rewarded me with a quick nod. “That sounds fair.”
Twenty minutes later, I leaned over the desk in the living room with a piece of paper and pen.
