Shadow of Thorns

by Ripley Proserpina

  “You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this. I wanted to come here and prove to myself I could be independent. Now look at me. You’re making me meals.” She glanced at Valen. “You’re making me go to the doctor.” Sylvain leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Hudson’s given me a job and Marcus a place to live.” Briar’s appetite was completely gone now, but she forced herself to take another bite of food. “I’m not off to a great start.”

  No one answered, and she couldn’t make herself look at the guys. What would she see there? Pity? Annoyance? Even though she wasn’t hungry at all by this point, she made herself eat what was left on her plate. By the time she finished, her stomach was so full it ached. Valen reached for her plate, but she stopped him. “I’ve got it,” she told him, bringing it to the sink. He’d left the pan on the stove, so she got that and placed it under the tap.

  “You don’t have to prove to us you can take care of yourself,” Hudson said from his place at the island. “We know you can, Briar. You got here. To Boston. All on your own.”

  Briar nodded, scrubbing a place on the pan before she rinsed it and put it in the dish drainer. “I think I just need to remind myself,” she said. “I’ve gotten too comfortable with all this care.”

  “Why shouldn’t you?” Valen asked. Opening a drawer, he examined it before removing a dish towel. “Hand me that plate.” He gestured with his chin to the dish rack. Briar handed it to him. He dried it and then placed it in a cabinet before gesturing to the pan. “Look. We like you here.”

  “Love it,” Marcus interrupted. “We love you here.”

  “Love you here,” Valen repeated. “It’s the way we’re made. To protect you. To take care of you. You say you’re hungry, and I want to feed you. You have a headache, and Sylvain wants to bring you to the hospital to rule out a tumor.”

  “Do you think it’s a tumor?” Sylvain asked, his voice a little wild.

  “No,” Marcus and Hudson answered at the same time.

  “This is new,” Hudson went on. “We have Asher we’re dealing with. Before that, your injury. We haven’t really had a chance to settle into being in a relationship.”

  What he said was true, but Briar was having a bit of an existential crisis. She wanted to be tough and an equal partner, but just by way of being human, she was weaker. For some reason, and for the first time in her life, she’d begun to think of herself in terms of her strength.

  “You’re right,” she answered. “I don’t know why I’m getting like this. Why I’m in a funk. It’s not like me. I appreciate what you do for me. I really do. It doesn’t make me incompetent because Valen makes me dinner. Right?”

  Hudson shook his head.

  “No.” Valen wrapped damp hands around her waist and kissed her neck. Briar leaned back against him, her entire body relaxing. “It doesn’t.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed by her freak-out.

  “Don’t apologize,” Marcus said. “We’re dealing with big stuff. Talk to us. We’ll figure it out.”

  Briar turned her head to kiss Valen’s arm. He squeezed her and rested his chin on her head. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his scent.

  These men.

  These vampires.

  They were magic.

  Chapter Four

  Valen

  All Valen could think about was taking care of Briar. It had started after he’d attacked her. That day in Hudson’s lab was the single most terrifying experience of Valen’s life, and it changed everything. It left him spinning. Out of control.

  When Asher had made him a vampire, he’d experienced bloodlust like all newly made vampires, but eventually, Valen had come back to himself. The red haze of hunger had dissipated, and he was left with two brothers and a creator whose sole concern was to claim what wasn’t his—lands, humans, glory.

  He thought he’d left that behind him when he’d abandoned Asher for Annie. But now, here he was. Tied in knots over a human who not only was fragile in the way all humans were, but in ways they shouldn’t be. One beam of sunlight. One tiny beam of sunlight, concentrated on Briar’s skin, and she was burned to the bone.

  And her scent.

  No human had ever smelled as good to Valen as Briar. Her scent made her equally unique, but also tantalizing. His monster wanted to bite, but also to protect.

  It put Valen at odds with himself.

  Watching Briar finish a meal he’d made did something inside him. He was proud he could do something she needed, and he wanted to do more.

  But he had to be careful. Briar was young, and she hadn’t been on her own long enough to know that accepting help wasn’t a sign of weakness.

  Briar stood on tiptoes, placing a glass carefully back in the cabinet. As if she felt him watching, she smiled. It was just the corner of her mouth, and a rosy glow traveled from her neck to her cheek.

  Valen leaned against the sink, gripping the counter to keep himself from sweeping her into his arms. He loved the way she felt there, but he wasn’t the only one who needed to hold her close.

  Hudson—no—none of them liked refusing her help. But there was no other alternative. She couldn’t help them wage war against a psychopath. The further from Asher she stayed, the safer she’d be.

  They had to minimize her exposure to him, and show Asher she wasn’t worth his attention.

  “Do you have more studying to do?” he asked as she rested back on her heels.

  She turned her stunning smile on him and nodded. “I always have more studying to do. I got a little distracted earlier.”

  “With Sun Tzu,” Hudson stated.

  “Yes,” she replied. “And I fell asleep. And I went to urgent care. And, you know, graduate school and sexy vampire boyfriends…” She listed the reasons on her fingers, and then, to his amusement, counted four fingers for each of her boyfriends.

  “I’d like to study with you,” Valen said. “Tonight. If you don’t mind. I’ll try not to distract you.”

  “Me, too,” Sylvain interjected. “I want to read the Chinese war general. I’m sure I already know everything he could possibly say about war. You know. At least it will be interesting.”

  “Yes,” Marcus said dryly. “God forbid you are bored.”

  “This works well. I need to plan with Marcus. You and Sylvain stay with Briar. Perfect.” Hudson crossed his arms and gestured with his chin toward the door.

  It may have been perfect as far as Hudson was concerned, but Valen had hoped for a little time with Briar on his own. Would you rather Sylvain despised the sight of you? No. Definitely, no. He snorted, earning a raised eyebrow from Briar.

  Rather than answer, he went to the round table and pulled out a chair, waiting for Briar to sit. She did, then leaned down to remove a book from her bag.

  Valen read the title on the book. Damn. Briar was smart. Hudson and Marcus were smart, yes, but they’d had millennia to become that way. Briar was—what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? And she kept up with his brothers. When he went to Hudson’s lab with Briar, she spoke easily with Hudson and Marcus. Words rolled off her tongue that Valen would trip over.

  A haze came over Briar’s face as soon as she began to read. One moment, she was with them, and the next, she’d been whisked into whatever world this book opened.

  Valen picked up the e-reader she’d left on the table. “Hey!” Sylvain pushed the side of his head, reached over his shoulder, and tried to pluck the reader from him. “I told you I was using that.”

  “I have it. Wait your turn,” Valen growled as the screen lit up. He scanned the page. It is a matter of life and death. A road either to safety or to ruin. “Sylvain,” he said. Valen placed the reader on the table. Rather than ask his brother to sit, Valen kicked a chair at him. It barely missed hitting Sylvain in the dick. Damn.

  Sylvain growled, and Valen quickly looked at the table, clenching his teeth to hide the shit-eating grin he felt threatening his lips.

  “Look at this.” Valen pointed to the screen an
d read the section out loud.

  “Yeah.” Sylvain sat with a sigh. He grasped the edges of the reader and slid it toward him before propping his elbows on either side. “Safety or to ruin. That fucking nails it, doesn’t it?”

  Valen silently agreed.

  Briar glanced up, eying Sylvain speculatively, but his brother was deep into War. He touched the screen, brushed his index finger across it lightly, and rested his cheek on his fist. “Shit,” he said to himself. “Come here.”

  Valen slid his chair closer. Sylvain dropped his arm so Valen could see the screen. Each phrase, each paragraph the ancient general had written rang true. This was clearly written by a man who’d seen fighting, one who had planned and executed battles.

  “Does it bother you,” Sylvain asked quietly, barely moving his lips, “that Marcus and Hudson have left us out. Like we are too stupid to understand what they do?”

  It had been the way they’d always done things. He and Sylvain were the swords, and Marcus and Hudson pointed them in the direction they needed to stab.

  But his brother had a point, just as Hudson had earlier. Times had changed, and they were fighting a different sort of battle now. No longer could he and Sylvain attack indiscriminately. They had to consider who could be watching, listening, or recording.

  “It bothers me,” Sylvain continued. His gaze remained on Briar, but she was deep into her homework again and didn’t glance up. Sylvain’s voice was quieter than a whisper. She’d never hear them. “I have a feeling, Valen, and I’ve had it since before we attacked Briar. Something is off. We’re missing a key piece of information. And it could mean the difference between success and failure.”

  Sylvain’s instincts were good, just as Valen’s were. They wouldn’t have lived human lives as long as they had if they hadn’t listened to those instincts.

  His brother had been a colonist in the New World. He lived in the wilderness, subsisting on whatever he could grow and hunt. At any point in Sylvain’s fragile human life, it would have taken one seemingly innocuous event to end his existence. Not to mention the myriad of activities of daily living that had the potential to injure or maim—building a homestead, cutting trees, hunting. The list when on and on.

  In Valen’s village, it hadn’t only been battle that felled the strongest of warriors. When he thought of the things that put his own tribesmen in the ground—simple scrapes or burns rotting and festering, an abscessed tooth—it was amazing either of them had lived long enough to become immortal.

  And even if those things were beyond their control, they’d had to pay as close attention to signs of illness as they did to their enemies approaching. All of those things combined to make him and Sylvain the men, and now the vampires, they were.

  Sylvain was right. They were missing something, and they’d missed it because they weren’t paying attention. Thank God Sylvain refused to listen to anyone.

  “We’re missing something obvious?” Valen stated.

  “Yes,” Sylvain answered. “I’m positive it has to do with Briar’s health. We think, because the doctor assures us she’s just run-down or not running a fever, that she’s well. But she isn’t, Valen. She awakens every morning looking more tired than she was the night before. She’s wasting away.”

  The words struck terror into Valen’s chest. The image of Briar disappearing into nothingness was too horrible to contemplate.

  “Give me something to battle,” Sylvain continued. “But this? What do I fight?”

  “Are you okay?” Briar interrupted them. Her gaze flicked between them, a small frown drawing down the corners of her mouth. One side was slightly lower than the other as a result of a burn she’d suffered. When her face was neutral, one side would curl up, just a little, as if she was amused at a private joke. But now, as she frowned, all it served to do was remind Valen how much she’d already suffered.

  “Yes,” Valen answered. “We’re fine.”

  “Sun Tzu,” Sylvain deflected. “It’s a very interesting book.”

  The frown remained, as if she didn’t believe them, and good for her if she didn’t. To Valen, Sylvain’s falsehood was glaringly obvious.

  The man smiled, and Briar’s frown deepened. “You’re full of it,” she said, but then sighed. “But it’s fine. You don’t have to tell me.” Now a line appeared between her eyebrows, and Valen wanted to punch Sylvain, and then maybe himself, for putting that look on her face. They should have known Briar was as aware of them as they were of her.

  “Are you hungry?” Valen asked, causing her to smile.

  “You two.” Leaning back in her chair, she drew her fingers through her fine, brown hair. It caught the light, glowing like tarnished gold. “One,” she began, “I just ate, so thank you, but no thank you. Two, don’t try to distract me, and three…” She trailed off. “I forgot what three was. If I go to the living room, am I close enough that you can stay in the kitchen and plot?”

  This girl saw right through them, and though it wasn’t funny, he couldn’t help shake his head and chuckle darkly. “Yes, little one. The living room is close enough. I’m sorry. We aren’t ready to share our concerns with you yet, but we shouldn’t have spoken about them as if you weren’t here. Forgive us?”

  Briar shut her book and stood, cradling it to her chest. “Of course.” She kissed his hair, smoothing it down his neck while she held his gaze. Her fingers on his skin, soft but strong, zinged nerve endings and had him struggling to remain in his seat and not wrap her in his arms.

  As she stepped away, Valen reached out, catching her hand in his. He turned it, palm up, and kissed her wrist. He breathed her in, the smell of ice and the sea soothing his anxiety. He opened his lips, sucking gently at the skin before releasing her.

  Heat poured off her, warming his lips even as he drew away. He was tempted, almost, to give voice to the words that became harder and harder to keep inside. I love you.

  Briar touched Sylvain’s shoulder, lingering for a moment before leaving them alone. Valen heard her settle onto the couch, the air softly deflating, leaving the cushion as she adjusted her position.

  “It’s time to talk to our brothers, Valen,” Sylvain said quietly.

  Nodding, Valen stood. It was time for them to work together, no longer delegating tasks. All of them would be equal going forward.

  Chapter Five

  Briar

  It was hard to be on the outside of the group.

  Briar understood why. Sylvain, Valen, Hudson, and Marcus had been together hundreds of years. Integrating another person into their group wasn’t instinctive. And they were so protective.

  She sighed and opened her book again with a little more force than she meant. Soon, however, she was wrapped up in the world of inherited diseases. With her favorite pen in hand, Briar began the process of underlining, highlighting, and making notes in the margin. This class was going to be tough. The syllabus her professor had handed out the first day contained assignments that she could only complete in labs, but the reading… holy cow… the sheer amount of reading was daunting. Absorbing and deciphering the topic was taking all of her brainpower. Lately, it hadn’t felt like she had much to spare.

  Not that she was complaining! All this work, it was exactly what she wanted to do, it was just… When Briar was home in West Virginia, she’d done all her work online. She didn’t go anywhere, except maybe outside, at night. The only people she interacted with were her family or her online classmates.

  Navigating the world took a lot more energy than she had planned. Maybe it was because she was new at this. Other people had years to adjust to independence. She’d dived into life in Boston fully, and everything took so much effort!

  Maybe that was why she felt so logy.

  Hours passed before she finished the work she needed to complete for the class. Briar shut the book and pushed it off her lap onto the couch. Ugh, her neck hurt. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched. The skin at her neck gave a little pull, a reminder it was still hea
ling, and she sucked in a breath.

  A quick glance to the kitchen showed Sylvain and Valen still deep in conversation. Her e-reader was between them, and every so often, they’d glance down before continuing. Clearly they’d be at this for hours if she let them.

  “I’m going upstairs,” she announced. Two heads, one dark, one light, shot up at her declaration.

  “My turn,” Sylvain said, pushing back his chair to stand.

  From somewhere upstairs, a door opened and shut. Marcus skidded to a stop in the kitchen. “No. It’s my turn.”

  “You had yesterday. For shit’s sake, Marcus, you don’t get every night.” Sylvain crossed his arms and glared.

  “We need a bigger bed,” Briar replied without thinking. Immediately, her face flushed and she shifted her gaze to the floor. Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.

  “What do you mean?” Sylvain asked.

  Darn.

  “I meant, bedroom.” No. That wasn’t right either. “I don’t know what I mean,” she finally said, throwing her hands into the air. “I just meant…” Every word out of her mouth had her digging a deeper hole. Finally, she gave up. Shifting from each foot, she struggled not to cover her face with her hands to hide the blush she knew stained her cheeks. “I’m going to take a shower. Just… surprise me.”

  She happened to glance up and met Marcus’s eyes. He wore a sly grin and had raised one eyebrow. Oh, boy. Cut your losses.

  Without another word, she hurried upstairs and into her bathroom. Her face, when she saw her reflection in the mirror, was exactly as she’d expect—beet red except for the crescent shaped scar beneath her eye, which stayed white no matter how embarrassed she was.

  “Surprise me,” she mocked her stupidity, ripping back the shower curtain to warm up the water. What was she thinking?

  You know what you were thinking, a devious voice answered. Yeah, okay. The idea of snuggling between the guys, their bodies curled around hers, sounded wonderful. She wasn’t a prude; just because she hadn’t had sex didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about it. Each day with the four vampires made her care about them in ways she hadn’t been prepared for.