by Sarah Piper
Twenty. The number of the Judgment card in tarot. My mind served up the image from Sophie’s deck—an angel hovering inside a dark cloud, half his face a silver moon, the other half a deep blue. He heralded Judgment Day with a great horn, calling the dead to rise and repent. Judgment often showed up in a reading when it was time for a major transformation—a great burning of the old so that the new can rise up from the ashes.
I shivered, then wrapped my hands around my mug, taking comfort in the warmth that seeped into my palms. “Always twenty?”
“Only when one dies do they create another. It doesn’t happen often—they’re well protected. And they’ve got a strict code about siring. Anyone who breaks it is eliminated.”
“Are they still here in the U.S.?”
Darius sipped his espresso, then nodded. “Just outside New York City—an estate in Tarrytown.”
My stomach flipped. Tarrytown was three thousand miles from the Bay, but less than a hundred miles from where I’d grown up. From where I’d spent my entire childhood—from the time I was adopted as a baby, right up until hunters attacked our home when I was sixteen.
Yes, New York was a big state, populated by millions of people in hundreds of towns and cities.
But any witch worth her spell book knew there was no such thing as coincidence.
“I’ll arrange for one of my east coast associates to track down the elder and request a meeting,” Darius said. “But it won’t easy. Like I said, he’s quite reclusive, and he’s not keen on strangers.”
I sipped my latte, letting this new info settle in. As far as I’d known as a kid, there’d been only one vampire family in my hometown, and outside of an English class I shared with the oldest daughter, we’d hardly ever crossed paths. Chances were the Grinaldi family had no connection to them, or to my past.
But still. It felt too close for comfort.
“What are you thinking?” Darius asked.
I set down my mug, reaching for another piece of cookie. “Let’s assume for now this plays logically. Setting aside the possibility of coercion, it stands to reason that a Grinaldi vampire broke the rules and headed to Washington to murder three witches, or he broke the rules and sired the vamp who did the crimes.”
“That’s the easiest explanation.”
“So… why? What was his motive for trying to turn the witches? If he’d just wanted them dead, there are easier ways.”
“Indeed.”
“And what about Delilah? Her disappearance has to be connected to the murders, but why was she taken rather than turned? Who’s next? And is the next witch going to be kidnapped, or killed?” I closed my eyes, the thoughts swirling in my brain and turning it to mush.
“It’s a start, Gray. A good one, but just a start.” Darius reached for my hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. Calming, just as he’d been in the middle of tonight’s chaos. “We’ve still got a lot of work do to.”
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze across the table. “We?”
“All for one, one for all, the more the merrier, etcetera.” Darius’s lips stretched into a grin. “Surely you didn’t think I’d let El Lobo and the demons have all the fun?”
“El Lobo?” I wrinkled my nose.
“It’s Spanish for The Wolf.”
I blinked at him. “You gave him that name?”
“He’s from Argentina,” he explained. “Spanish is his native tongue.”
“No, I get it. It’s just kind of… weak.”
“Says the woman who calls me D?”
“Touché, vampire. Touché.” My laughter faded as Darius’s words found a soft spot inside my chest, nestling in close.
All for one, one for all, the more the merrier…
Just over a week ago, Sophie was the center of my world, my best friend and a bright light in my life. No matter what I’d gone through, Sophie always found a way to make me believe in hope. To believe that things could always get better. That we could choose better.
Ronan was her counterbalance, dark and brooding and intense, yet grounding me with his deep well of strength whenever I felt myself pulling apart at the seams.
Now, Sophie was gone. In a blink, just like that. Gone.
But Ronan was still by my side, no matter where our kisses led. Darius had become an unexpected friend. Emilio was also in my corner—I felt it every time I looked into his deep, compassionate eyes. Asher had my back, too, if only because he was loyal to Ronan. And Haley? Where had that come from?
Just when I thought my life would fall to pieces, that everything had been taken from me, that nothing would ever be okay again, the universe was doing its damnedest to convince me otherwise.
Maybe it was working. Just a little.
I rose from my chair and stretched. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back.”
“Take your time, love.” Darius pulled out his phone. “It’ll give me a moment to check in with my associates about our cleanup operation.”
I moved to head for the ladies’ room, but stopped as I passed him, touching his shoulder. “Hey, D?”
“Yes, G?” he teased.
Tears misted my eyes, but they weren’t tears of sadness or frustration, and I didn’t bother blinking them away. “Thank you. For all of it. The coffee, and fighting by my side tonight, and just… everything.”
Darius turned his face toward mine and smiled, broad and true, and my heart nearly stopped from the dazzling beauty of it. He reached for my hand on his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. “You’re not alone in this, Gray. I know it feels that way sometimes, but you’re not.”
Twenty-Nine
Gray
Darius had left me reeling, my thoughts and feelings and nerve endings alive and buzzing from so much more than the caffeine.
So much had happened tonight—things I hadn’t even begun to think about, let alone actually deal with. The coffee did a lot to perk me up, but right now, I just needed a quick hit of fresh, salty air.
After I finished up in the bathroom, I slipped out the emergency exit at the end of the hall and headed outside, just to the railroad ties at the edge of the parking lot, still within the protective boundaries of Luna’s property. I was pretty confident that Darius’s people were taking care of the situation at the morgue, but that didn’t mean whoever had sent our vamp welcoming committee didn’t have more fanged friends lurking in the shadows.
Out beyond the lot, I took in the view of the water, lulled as always by the gentle sound of the lapping waves.
The shoreline wasn’t grand or majestic by any means—just a rocky stretch of beach between the marina and the ferry dock—but it was ours, and if I squinted and looked out over our namesake Blackmoon Bay, I could almost see Sophie out there in the springtime, wading into the chilly waters with her jeans rolled up to her knees, searching for the perfect painting stones.
“They don’t always wash up on shore, Gray. You have to be willing to work for your art! Dig deep, woman!”
“I don’t do art.”
“Did I say your art? I meant my art. You have to dig deep for my art. Now get out here and help me dig! I’m freezing my ass off!”
Laughing, I kicked off my shoes and waded into the frigid waters, holding out a plastic bag to collect Sophie’s treasures. “We need to find you a warmer hobby. Preferably something with fire. Glass blowing! That’s it…”
“—done doin' overtime without pay. Fuck that.”
The gruff voice startled me out of the vision, and I peered down along the beach, picking out the silhouettes of two men heading my way from the marina. They looked a bit unsteady on their feet.
“How’d they take it?” the other dude asked, passing a bottle of booze to his friend. He spoke with a lisp, but that could’ve been the booze talking.
“How ya think? Fired my ass on the spot.”
I relaxed. Just a couple of dockworkers blowing off steam. I was about to head back inside Luna’s when the response from the other guy set my teeth on edge.
/>
“You shittin’ me?” he slurred.
That voice… The lisp… How do I know this guy?
“Nah. Fuck ‘em, though, right?” Jobless polished off the last of the booze, then chucked the empty bottle into the Bay. “You’re lookin’ at a free man now, T.”
“Guess you ain’t buyin’ the next round, then.” The “T” dude laughed, the rasp of it skittering across my skin like cockroaches.
“Not this weekend, anyway.” Jobless gave T a fist bump, then headed up toward street level alone.
Less than ten feet from where I stood, the cockroach paused at the water’s edge, reaching into his pocket for a pack of smokes. He shook one out and jammed it between his lips. Flicked the lighter. Sucked until the end crackled and glowed.
A wheezing cough rattled his lungs.
Recognition slammed into my chest like a fist.
So you’re an all talk, no action kind of bitch?
You got some ass on you, girl.
Nice try, little cunt…
It was him. The asshole who’d jumped me outside Black Ruby, threatening to do all sorts of nasty things to me. He would’ve done the same to Bean, too, if he’d gotten the chance.
Instead, he’d left her to die in my arms.
And I’d turned her into… God, there wasn’t even a word for it. My stomach churned just thinking about it. I couldn’t close my eyes without hearing her sweet voice—grape jelly grape—corrupted now by all the thoughts that haunted me.
You did this to me, witch.
It was his fault. This piece-of-shit excuse for a human standing in front of me, cigarette dangling from his greasy lips, limp dick in his hand as he pissed into the Bay.
The man was drunk.
Alone.
Defenseless.
Inside me, the blackness sparked, roaring to life with a new intensity. Instead of resisting it, I welcomed it, letting it fuel me, letting it fill me up like a battery getting an overdue recharge.
My entire body buzzed.
“Hey,” I called out, stepping over the railroad tie, outside the neutral boundary of Luna’s. “Can I bum one of those smokes?”
Cockroach flinched at my words and whipped around to face me, nearly pissing on himself in the process.
He narrowed his eyes, but clearly he didn’t recognize me, which pissed me off even more. I could live another hundred years and I wouldn’t forget the face of the man who’d terrorized me and Bean. But to him I was just another faceless, nameless dock rat washing up on the shore.
“You looking for company, sweetheart?” He grabbed his dick and winked, stroking himself. “Look, I already whipped it out for you.”
“Wow. You come prepared.” I stepped forward, meeting him at the water’s edge.
“That’s right, baby.” He flashed his toothless smile. “Come on over and see what ol’ Travis has for you.”
“Actually, ol’ Travis…” I grinned and held up my hands, power crackling across my palms. “This time, baby’s got something for you.”
Thirty
Ronan
Beach behind Luna’s. Now.
I stared at the text on my cell in disbelief. Fifteen years since we all started carrying cell phones, and the stodgy old vampire had never once texted me.
Even without his warning, I knew something bad was about to go down—I could feel it. And it had Gray’s name all over it.
Abandoning the shipment I’d been unloading for Waldrich, I hauled ass up to the beach, following Darius’s order and the tug in my gut that always led me to Gray.
Sure as hell, I found her there, kneeling in the sand next to some human meat sack, bloodied and unconscious with his limp dick hanging out of his pants.
What the fuck?
Beaumont was standing over them, useless as a statue. Not that he could’ve done much anyway—they were surrounded by that damn shield again, some strange side effect of Gray’s magic.
“What happened?” I demanded, automatically scanning the beach for a raven or owl or any other sign of Death. Last time she’d called up her powers, he’d shown up out of nowhere and tried to lure her back to the Shadowrealm. Fuck if that was happening on my watch.
Beaumont lifted a shoulder as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but his eyes told a different story. Mr. Ice-for-Blood Stick-Up-The-Ass was seriously worked up.
“We were having coffee inside,” he said, his calm demeanor forced. “She went to the restroom. Moments later, I sensed a surge of her magic, and here we are.”
“How long has she been like this?”
“Five minutes, perhaps? I texted you as soon as I found her out here.”
The two of us circled the iridescent dome, but I knew there was no way in. Gray was less than five feet away from me, her head tipped backward, eyes rolling into the back of her head, and all I could do was watch.
She moved forward, hands sliding up his chest, and the guy finally stirred. He cracked open his eyes and gasped for air, revealing a big black hole where his front teeth should be.
I blew out a breath. At least she hadn’t killed him. And if he wasn’t dead, she wouldn’t get a chance to mess with his soul. With any luck, she’d give him a good scare and burn out. Darius would have to jack his memories, but hell, he’d be doing the guy a favor as much as he’d be covering Gray’s tracks.
No human wanted to remember this kind of shit.
“We’ll have to wait her out,” I told Darius. “Last time this happened, it was—”
“Last time? So this is a regular occurrence?” The vampire fumed. “And you didn’t think it worth sharing?”
“I’m handling it, Beaumont. Gray doesn’t need you to start—”
“Oh, spare me. I understand you think you have some kind of mystical connection to the woman, but—”
“Did… Did you seriously just make air quotes at me?”
“I know you care for her a great deal—we all do. But it’s time you level with us.” The vampire glared at me, clearly unsettled. It wasn’t a good look on him. “Who is she?”
I didn’t even know how to begin answering that question. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. It’s not like she came with an instruction manual. All I had were a bunch of hunches and guesses about her potential, and all the fine-print, contract bullshit I wasn’t allowed to discuss without damning her eternal life.
Mine, too.
“Why does it matter?” I snapped. “Knowing the answers wouldn’t change how you feel about her. About how any of us feels.”
“Of course not. But it might allow us to help her through the—”
“I said I’m handling it.”
“Yes, I’m quite familiar with your refrain, but—”
I cut him off with a hand in the air. It was an old argument, one we resisted whenever we were worried about Gray, which seemed to be happening more and more lately.
I stalked over to the water’s edge, giving us both a minute to cool off. When I returned to the scene, I gestured at the toothless fuck-up sprawled out before our girl. “So who’s the asshole, anyway?”
Sarcasm dripped off his smug face. “Well, Ronan, I didn’t quite catch the gentleman’s name, but I’m certain there’s a logical explanation. Gray wouldn’t attack someone unprovoked.”
“Oh, you’re the expert on her now?”
“Careful, demon.” He flashed that icy grin. “Your jealous streak is—Christ.” Darius’s grin suddenly flatlined. “What the bloody hell is that?”
I snapped my attention back to Gray. Silver mist slithered out of the dude’s mouth like smoke, curling around her fingers—same shit I’d seen the night we’d found Sophie.
But this time Gray wasn’t trying to bring a friend back from the dead. The guy wasn’t her friend, and he wasn’t dead.
She was stealing his soul—yanking it right out of his body while the guy watched helplessly on, eyes wide, scared out of his fucking mind.
He was right to be scared.
Gray was killing
him. Worse than killing him.
My guts dropped into my fucking boots. She might not have known what she was doing, but if she succeeded? Game over. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.
If Gray stole this man’s soul—if she willingly and successfully trapped it in the Shadowrealm while he was still alive—it would be seen as a violation of the natural world order.
And the punishment for such a heinous crime—her eternal fate—would make demon enslavement look like a trip to god damn Disney World.
I fell to my knees and pressed my hands against the shield, begging with everything in me, a desperate plea to all the gods of men and demons and witches and fey, to anyone who might be listening.
Please don’t take her from me.
Thirty-One
Gray
Blood dripped from my hands, soaking into the dirt as I made my way down the darkened path.
It was becoming a thing with me, the blood on my hands.
The soul slithering through my fingers was starting to feel familiar, too.
But unlike the beautiful gossamer of Bean’s and Sophie’s life forces, Travis’s soul was tattered and flimsy, full of holes. A ragged excuse for something so precious—I doubted he’d even miss it. I stretched my hands apart and felt the taffy-like pull as it tried desperately to return to his body.
Sorry, Trav. Not happening.
The eyes of the forest blinked awake as I marched onward, glittering and eerie. Thorny black vines choked the path, leaving it even more narrow than it was on my last visit.
I trampled them.
I needed to get to my stone archway. To the black wood and the Shadowrealm beyond.
Logically, I knew my actions weren’t normal. Weren’t right.
But my heart—that place inside me where all the deep, ancient things lived—wanted this soul banished, and I knew my magic would stop at nothing to see this through.
I was almost there.
A hundred feet.
I could already see the top of the archway.
