by Rye Brewer
The sound of rushing water greeted me, growing louder the closer to the waterfall I came. I hadn’t visited since the time we’d spent there together, and the sight of so much natural beauty struck me just as it always did—though it was less important while I was the wolf, when my sense of smell and hearing were far more valuable to me than the majesty of a rushing waterfall, the droplets glittering diamonds in the moonlight.
I sniffed the ground all the way to the rock face, followed the narrow footpath worn over many generations of visits to the secret alcove hidden behind the falls. Dirt turned to stone—slippery, at that, but I was agile enough to make short work of navigating the ledge before slipping into the carved-out niche where we’d spent one glorious day together.
Only to find my clothing strewn about the floor. The clothing I had thrust into Genevieve’s hands before sending her through the trap door.
And the scent of blood in the air.
Blood and other shifters who were not me.
I ran around the small alcove, sniffing the ground all the while, then burst out onto the other side of the falls, opposite where I’d entered. I focused every bit of concentration on picking up my scent, but it was gone. Only blood and the scent of others. So many others.
No! No, no, no!
They had found her. Someone had taken her away. It was the only explanation, and it filled me with horror unlike anything I’d ever known.
I raised my head and howled at the moon, the sound echoing through the forest.
30
Anissa
I didn’t know what I’d been expecting.
To see Sara? To arrive at Hallowthorn Landing and find her walking along the docks which lined the water’s edge? Maybe she would be admiring the birds which circled over the sparkling water in the hopes of catching a fish. Or maybe she would be walking up to the fortress from the village, where she would likely be much more welcome than she would’ve been as a mere vampire.
I supposed I’d expected to find her waiting for me, somehow, though there was no reason she should’ve known I was coming.
I sighed, staring up at the too-blue sky—it struck me again how hyper-real the entire world seemed when compared to the human world—and wished we could go back to when things were a little simpler. When she wasn’t a witch. What would have happened if she had never drunk that tainted blood?
How would life have progressed if that had never happened? Would she still be with Scott? Back at the high-rise? Safe, secure, at least as much as one of us could be as refugees from the Carver clan?
At least I would be able to see her. I missed her so much, it hurt.
Branwen caught my eye, as she was also gazing up—though not at the sky. She was looking up at one of the many balconies carved into the side of the mountain.
At Stark.
My heart jumped when I recognized him. If I couldn’t see Sara, at least I could speak with someone who might know how she was.
“Excuse me,” I said to both Sirene and Branwen before running from the courtyard up the smooth stone stairs which led to the towering doors of the fortress. Was I even allowed to run around inside, unchaperoned? I didn’t have time to consider it. I needed to see Stark.
The inside of the fortress was imposing, to put it mildly, with heavy, wrought iron chandeliers and the many impressive tapestries which hung from the walls of the entry hall. There was no time to admire their intricate details as I took the wide staircase two steps at a time.
And nearly ran into Stark as he rushed down.
I grabbed his arm, both to stop him and to steady myself.
“Stark!” I gasped, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here! Where is Sara? Is she still on Shadowsbane? Have you seen her? I miss her so much!” It all came out in a single breath, the words running together.
He smiled indulgently. if a bit distractedly, as his eyes moved to the door I’d left open on running inside. “Take a breath. No, I haven’t seen her. She’s still on Shadowsbane, training with Elewyn. Learning how to be a better witch.”
I stared at him in surprise. Why did he sound bitter about this? Did he even realize he did? I would’ve thought he’d be glad she was like him, that she wanted to be even better than she was. At least that she wanted to control her powers and not fry him with a bolt of lightning.
“Would you excuse me, please?” he asked, glancing to the door again. “I… I noticed Sirene came through with you, and she brought her baby…”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Of course, go! See her!”
“Her?” he asked, smiling hesitantly.
“Yes. You have a niece.” The almost silly joy on his face warmed me inside, and I hurried to follow him down the stairs and outside, back to the courtyard overlooking the water where Sirene and Branwen still stood.
It was impossible not to smile when he took his first look at Elena. His face seemed to completely transform. I hadn’t realized until then how much of his time was spent either frowning or glowering. When he lit up, he looked like a different man.
“She’s beautiful,” he whispered, smiling from ear to ear as Sirene handed the baby to him. “Though she doesn’t have our coloring, does she?”
“No, there is quite a bit of Bourke in our Elena,” Sirene chuckled.
“You can’t have everything, little one, can you?” he whispered to Elena, beaming with pride when she grabbed for his finger and squeezed tight. “A strong girl. A fine girl.”
He was utterly in love with her, as we all were.
I glanced at Branwen, who stood off to the side. Her face was a mask, immobile. Only her eyes gave her away, though I had no idea why there was so much emotion just under the surface. What was she feeling? I thought back a few minutes to the expression on her face when she stared up at Stark. When he stared down at her.
They were not strangers.
Elena let out a little bit of babbling, which drew my attention.
Stark laughed. “And already so full of opinions, too!” he marveled. “I’m certain you have many thoughts and observations which we would all love to hear, little Elena.”
He glanced up at Sirene. “She seems… mature. Larger than she ought to. She can’t be more than a week old, can she?”
Sirene exchanged a look with me and was about to reply, but Elena did the work for her. She began to cry all of a sudden, the sort of crying I had already come to identify with sparks. And sure enough, the more upset she became, the greater the energy around her, until sparks started flying from her fingertips. Nothing too serious, nothing like what Sara had been capable of when she first gained her powers.
But nothing an ordinary baby should have been capable of.
Stark’s mouth fell open. “Elemental powers?” he whispered, lifting his gaze to Sirene.
The sweet, loving smile she’d worn turned to a worried frown. “Yes. That’s why we came. She drank from the same batch of blood Sara did, and she’s gained the same elemental powers.”
31
Branwen
Just when I was certain my heart was far too broken to break any further.
It should have been our child Stark was holding. Our child he cooed over, fussed over, spoke so gently to. I’d always known he would make a wonderful father. I’d always known he possessed the gentle soul he tried so hard to conceal from the world.
We could have been so happy. We could’ve had everything.
Did he know how it pained me to watch? Did he even know I was there? He hadn’t looked at me, rushing to Sirene and Elena without so much as a glance my way to indicate recognition.
But he’d recognized me earlier, as he stood on the balcony. His eyes could never lie to me.
Tears threatened to well up, but I fought them back. I had cried more than enough over him. Buckets. Enough to fill an ocean.
Elena let out a piercing wail, pulling me from my painful thoughts and back into the present moment. Sparks flew from her fingertips, sizzling in the air, making Stark gasp in sho
ck.
“She’s hungry,” Sirene explained after telling him about the contaminated batch Elena had drunk from, taking the baby from him and offering her a bottle of blood.
The sight of the blood must have shaken him from his shock. “What is this?” he demanded. “She’s a vampire? She needs blood to survive?”
“Yes,” Sirene replied, calm and collected in the face of his growing panic. “She is a vampire, as her father was.”
“How— What— Where do you intend to find blood for her?” he asked, clearly aghast.
I cleared my throat. “We already thought about that,” I said as I held up the little cooler we’d packed. The first words I’d spoken to him in so many decades. I had imagined what I’d say to him if given the chance more times than I could possibly count.
Somehow, reality fell short of my fantasies.
He took the cooler from me with hardly a glance my way and looked inside. “That’s not enough. It might last a week, maybe less. Then what?” he asked, glancing around. “Do you intend on allowing her to feed from us, perhaps?”
“We hadn’t thought about it yet,” Sirene admitted, peering down at the child who nursed greedily from the bottle of blood.
“You know that’s against the rules of the League, don’t you?” he asked. “Not that I was ever a fan of them myself, but we do not need to give them any reason to ostracize the child—or worse.”
“I could always go back and get more blood from the Bourke supply,” Anissa suggested.
“Wouldn’t they eventually notice the missing blood and wonder who’d suddenly been drinking more than before?” he asked. “I assume none of the rest of the clan is aware of the baby’s presence.”
“Of course not,” Sirene replied, and I noted the way her arms tightened around Elena when she did. “We couldn’t let them know about her. That is why we came here.”
“I assumed as much,” Stark muttered. “What happens when she begins to grow, to really grow, in earnest? She will need even more blood then. What will you do when that happens?”
“Wait!” Anissa held up both hands, and I was glad for it.
Only her sudden outburst could have calmed Stark once he worked himself into a frenzy, which he was doing at the moment.
Perhaps she would talk some sense into him and remind him how foolish it was to think so far into the future. Doing so was the surest path to madness.
Instead, she began to tremble. “Where is Sara getting blood from?”
I blinked. So did Stark.
“What?” he asked with a frown. “What does she have to do with this?”
“She needs blood. She’s still a vampire. How is she getting it if she’s on Shadowsbane?” Anissa wrung her hands together, shaking outright. “Oh, no, what if she’s suffering the way she did before? She was starved once, did she ever tell you that? Tortured. Locked away and only given enough blood to keep from going insane.”
“Anissa, calm down,” Stark implored, going to her.
She backed away. “I have to see her! I have to know she’s all right! Oh, no, I should’ve thought… I should’ve asked…”
“Anissa, please!” Stark held her shoulders, shaking her slightly. “Pull yourself together. Elewyn would not allow her to starve. She’s capable of many things, but not that.”
Elewyn.
I gritted my teeth against the cries of disgust threatening to wrench themselves from my heart. The sound of her name alone made me sick.
He had left me for her. For her! That clawing, grasping, evil little witch. Lording her powers over all of us, holding herself above all others just because she was elemental.
He was as pathetic as she was, if she was who he’d chosen. I had told myself that very thing at the time and did so again.
“I don’t believe you. I can’t trust anyone when it comes to her. I’m supposed to protect her, she’s my younger sister, and now… my mother…” She closed her eyes, prompting the tears which had welled up there to spill onto her cheeks. “I have to see her. Please. Take me to her, somebody.”
I was utterly lost—and, judging from the expression on Sirene’s face, so was she. But instead of demanding answers, she turned to her brother. “Take her,” she murmured, nodding. “We will be fine here on our own for a little while.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t be long,” Anissa promised, still crying. “I have to know she’s all right.”
“I know you do. I would feel the same way.”
Anissa looked at me next. “Will you watch over them for me while I’m gone?” she whispered, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“Of course,” I assured her, even as I dug my nails into my palms. He was going to Shadowsbane. He was going to see her. Just as she in all likelihood knew he would, which was why she held Sara there.
Sara was her way of bringing Stark to her. Like a spider in a web, waiting for her prey to become entangled.
And there was no choice for me but to stand by and watch as he so willingly went along.
32
Anissa
“I’d forgotten Elewyn changed things here,” Stark said as we stepped out of the portal he’d created. “I’d expected the same stormy gloom as before. It was always that way, for as long as I could remember. It’s a bit of a shock.”
I had no concern for his memories, or for the weather on Shadowsbane Island. As far as I was concerned, anything was an improvement over the gloom and doom of the storminess we’d encountered on our first visit. As soon as Elewyn had taken charge, she’d swept the storms away to replace them with the same sort of magical, non-threatening sunshine which warmed Hallowthorn Landing.
It wasn’t the warmth of the sun on my face which took precedence of my thoughts as we walked up the long, stone-paved road which led to the castle. It wasn’t even the eerie quiet coming from the village, as though it was deserted.
It was my concern for my sister. What would I find when we got to the castle? Would she be the same screaming, begging, almost unrecognizable wraith I’d found in Marcus’s dungeon?
No one would ever understand how terrible it was to see that—much less for my sister to go through it. Only I knew how desperately important it was to confirm that she hadn’t gone back to those times.
When she greeted us in the courtyard, stepping out from the castle with a surprised smile, my fears were put to rest. I could breathe again.
“You’re here.” It was not a question, and it stopped me in my tracks. I had been ready to throw my arms around her and never let go.
She didn’t seem happy to see either of us.
“Yes,” I said, looking to Stark for a little guidance. “I was desperate to make sure you were okay. Stark agreed to bring me.”
She nodded. “I’m doing very well here. I’ve come a long way.” Yes, she had. The aura around her was stronger than ever, telling me how powerful she’d become. I didn’t know whether to be glad for her or a little concerned she’d already come so far without the time to really adjust to her power.
But Elewyn would know more about that than I would. Wouldn’t she?
“Come in, please. You don’t have to wait in the courtyard.” She showed us inside, and I couldn’t help but remember the battle we’d waged here with the Senate. How we’d killed them all. How Fane had almost died there on the floor. Every trace of blood was gone, of course, along with every hint of damage done. Elewyn had been busy.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Stark offered, stepping aside as I continued with Sara to the room where I’d waited with Fane and Scott while the Senate decided our fate. I would have rather not relive those tense, nauseating moments, but here we were.
The room was bright and cheerful, not nearly as foreboding as it had been that fateful night. The heavy draperies were open, allowing light in through windows which stretched to the ceiling. Sara perched on a settee by the cold, unused fireplace, gesturing for me to join her. It was only then that she gave me a hug—I told myself she’d been too surpris
ed to see me earlier, and that was why she’d behaved so strangely.
“I’m glad you came,” she whispered, smiling. “I have so much to tell you.” Then, she looked at my hand when I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You have another ring. Two rings. Does this mean…?”
I nodded, a little ashamed I had completely forgotten she might want to know. “I’m sorry you weren’t there. I wanted you to be. But we wanted to make it official before we split off on our own again. I hope you understand.”
“Understand? Oh, Anissa.” She hugged me again. When she did, she seemed much more like her old self, as though that strange, distant person in the courtyard was just my imagination running wild. “I’m so glad. I do wish I could’ve been there, but we can celebrate some other time. All of us, together.” When she pulled back, tears sparkled in her eyes. “I’ll bet Mom was a weepy mess.”
I let out a little gasp of pain when she said it, and her smile disappeared.
“What happened? Is she all right?”
“Sara… I don’t know how to tell you this.” I took her hands, struggling to find the words. How was I supposed to tell her our mother was dead?
“Just say it,” Sara whispered, blank faced. “Just get it out. All at once.”
I took a deep breath. “She’s gone. She’s dead. Valerius killed her before Elazar could pull him from Vance’s body. I’m so, so sorry.”
She closed her eyes, bowed her head. Tears dripped onto the dark robes she wore. It occurred to me then how much they reminded me of what Elewyn wore. “Oh, gosh,” she whispered, trembling.
I touched my forehead to her shoulder and we sat there for a long time, grieving.
I couldn’t tell her about Allonic’s role in all of it. It wasn’t his fault, no matter what he believed. He hadn’t forced Valerius into anything. But Sara might not feel that way; she wasn’t as close to him as I was.
