by E. S. Moore
God, I wasn’t any better than the rest of the monsters. Lying by omission was still lying.
And a betrayal.
“Someone is keeping an eye on the Cultists,” he said. “But it’s unlikely any of them would have had an opportunity to take down the systems. Only a few would know how to do it and I trust them.”
“There aren’t very many more options,” I said with a sigh. “I hope there is some other explanation, I really do, but usually the most obvious answer is the right one. You need to consider the fact that someone from the inside might have tipped off the Left Hand and could be plotting against you even now.”
He nodded, though it was clear he didn’t want to listen. He’d fought so hard to make sure his wolves stayed safe from vampire control, that those who worshipped his kind did so safely, that it would probably kill him to find out someone he was close to was trying to ruin it all.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” I said. “But there is only so much I can do with so little to go on. I doubt I’ll just stumble across wherever the Left Hand is hiding. Nor do I have any idea how I’m going to tell them apart from anyone else.”
I thought about the upcoming Monday and worried that Baset would have a name for me. It would just make my week complete to have that to worry about on top of everything else.
I hated my life sometimes.
Jonathan looked over at the body of his wolf and his shoulders slumped. He looked downright miserable. He nodded with a sigh that looked like it was seconds from becoming a frustrated sob.
“It isn’t your fault he died,” I said. “You can’t protect everyone.”
He glanced at me, a faint smile on his face. “That sounds like something I might tell you.”
I laughed. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if he had. “Maybe there are a few things we can still learn from each other after all.”
Jonathan’s smile slid away. “I wish you would reconsider staying here,” he said. “You may be able to do something here. I could use your input.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. I have Ethan to worry about.”
He looked like he might protest, but instead, turned toward the stairs. “Shall we?”
We headed back up into his office. I waited while he took a moment to compose himself. It was clear he wanted to appear strong in front of the Cultists. Seeing the body again had shaken him up pretty badly. It took only a few seconds, but in that brief instant, I saw something in him that made me want to stick around longer. He was willing to show vulnerability in front of me. Could I really turn my back on that?
Before I could think to say anything, he walked across the room and opened the door. We stepped out into the main hall where Jeremy was waiting for us. He rose from his seat on the stairs and joined us. The room was empty of everyone else.
“I’m leaving,” I said. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything.” I headed for the door.
“Are you going home?” Jonathan asked in a way that told me he was still trying to watch out for me. I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or pissed.
“No,” I said. “I have something else I need to do.”
I stepped outside, leaving both Jonathan and Jeremy behind. I stood on the steps for a good long minute, wondering if I were doing the right thing by leaving now. If I were to go back in, my life would change. I could send Jeremy for Ethan and we could work on the Left Hand problem together.
I think I might have stayed if Jonathan had followed me out. He wouldn’t even have to ask. I’d simply turn around and go back inside with him.
But the doors remained firmly closed behind me.
He wasn’t coming.
A combination of frustration and irritation washed over me. In the stories, the man would always come rushing out after the woman and everything would work out in the end. Why couldn’t I have that? Why did I always have to be so damn stubborn just so I could appear strong?
God, I really needed a drink.
And you know what? That’s exactly what I was going to do.
4
The Bloody Stake parking lot was surprisingly empty at this hour. There were a couple of cars, but not the usual heavy traffic I normally would expect. Even the sign above the bar looked tired. The woman appeared as if she was no longer interested in repeatedly staking the overdressed vampire. In fact, it all seemed sort of depressing.
Or maybe I was just projecting.
I hesitated just outside the doors, not sure if I’d be welcome after the last time I was there. I’d been jumped by a trio of Adrian’s wolves and we’d fought, though I’d actually tried hard to avoid it. Bart had ended the lives of two of the wolves. I was thankful he’d decided to let me go.
I firmed my resolve and pushed through the doors. Bart might be unhappy with me, but since he’d let me go, I had to believe he wouldn’t object to my return. I figured if he wanted me to stay away, he would have told me so.
Or shot me and been done with me for good.
Mikael Engelbrecht was sitting at his usual booth. A girl was fast asleep against his shoulder. He gave me a slimy smile and a nod before closing his own eyes.
The rest of the bar was practically empty. An older man who smelled of whiskey sat on a stool at the bar and a young couple huddled close together across the room, but that was about it. The music had been turned down to accommodate the smaller crowd. I wondered if there had been a fight recently that had scared off—or killed off—most of Bart’s usual clientele.
Then again, a fight would have probably brought in a larger crowd. People did love their violence . . . as long as it was happening to someone else.
I hurried across the room and slid into what had once been my favorite booth. It gave me a good look at the room and put my back at a wall so no one could get at me. I used to come in and sit here all the time, but somewhere along the way, the only time I ever came to the bar was to get information.
The thump of footsteps approached. I stared down at the table, trying to look as innocent as possible. I could tell by the way one leg dragged a little behind the other that it was Bart. He’d gotten his limp, as well as a scar across his face, from fights in and around the Bloody Stake. Thankfully, I had yet to be involved in the sort of fight that would cause him to become injured. If I had, I doubted I’d be alive.
Bart wasn’t known for his forgiving ways, so I was tense. He’d killed other vamps for less than what I’d done. The fight might not have been my fault, but in his mind, I could have done something to stop it. I couldn’t help it that Adrian was an idiot who’d send his wolves after me in some of the worst places imaginable. Maybe he thought I’d come along quietly if he came at me where others could see.
Obviously he didn’t know me as well as he thought.
Bart stopped by my table and I tried to push thoughts of Adrian out of my head. I could still feel him out there, thanks to us being bound together by the Oath. I couldn’t tell exactly where he was or what he was doing, but I was pretty sure I could walk right up to him if I’d wanted.
There was a thump as Bart set an open bottle of beer on the table in front of me. He sat down on the other side of the table, sighing heavily as he took his weight off of his legs.
“I’m surprised to see you back,” he said. He looked tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. It was a wonder he could ever sleep at all with all of the monsters he dealt with on any given day. You’d think someone would have come after him by now, yet here he was, day after day, serving the creatures of the night beer after beer like they were any other persons.
“Do you want me to leave?” I looked up at him. While I didn’t want to beg, I was sure he saw the pleading look I couldn’t keep out of my eyes.
“Nah,” he said. “Not many people here for you to antagonize tonight.”
I smiled and picked up my beer. I took a swig and closed my eyes as it slid smoothly down my throat. After everything I’d seen that night, I really needed this.
“Slow night tonight,�
� I said, after I’d basked in the warmth blossoming in my gut for a few minutes. I took another drink and glanced around the bar. “Something happen?”
Bart frowned and followed my gaze. “It depends on what you mean by happened. Since the day you scuffled in my lot, there’ve been no fights within or around my property.”
“Then why is it so empty? Have a rough singles night?”
He grunted and very nearly smiled before it bled away into his more natural troubled frown. “I think people are scared. I’m not sure of what, but they aren’t coming in like they used to. Half the time, they only stay long enough for a drink or two before shuffling off to their homes to hide. It’s as if they’re waiting for something to blow over.” He sighed. “I just hope it happens quick so I can get back down to business.”
It wasn’t too much of a mental workout to figure out what a lot of people were afraid of. If the Left Hand was in town killing people, I was sure word of it had spread. Going out alone was dangerous normally, but with these psychos running around, slashing throats, things were getting more dangerous than even the most fearless of predators could stand.
I chugged a good half of my beer and slammed it down. I was tired of things always popping up, seemingly every other month. I could use a year off where everything didn’t go to shit the moment someone new breezed into town.
“Rough night?” Bart asked. I was surprised to see a little concern in his gaze. “That’s life, isn’t it?”
I grunted noncommittally and finished off my beer.
“Look,” I said, setting down the empty bottle. “I’m sorry about . . .”
I trailed off as Bart shook his head. “Don’t apologize to me. I got something out of the whole affair, so I can’t complain.”
He shifted and I glanced down at his now extended foot. My silver knife was strapped to his boot, hilt and blade exposed to anyone who deigned to look.
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Isn’t it dangerous to show off silver like that?”
He shrugged. “Who’s going to give me shit about it?”
He had a point there.
The door opened and closed, drawing Bart’s eye. I turned my gaze back to my empty bottle, wishing I had a fresh beer. I wouldn’t get drunk, but I definitely could use a few more to help wash away some of the bad thoughts that had invaded over the last few hours.
“I’ll leave you two be,” Bart said, rising.
I looked up and was surprised to find Jeremy standing beside my table. He looked ten kinds of embarrassed.
Bart slid out of the booth and gathered my empty bottle. “I’ll get you another,” he said, walking off.
“May I sit down?” Jeremy asked. He wouldn’t meet my eye.
“Sure,” I said with a sigh. I wasn’t sure I was in the mood for company, especially if he decided he wanted to talk to me about Philip.
“Jonathan said you’d probably be here.”
“Glad he knows me so well.”
“He’s worried.”
I shrugged.
Bart returned. He set two bottles on the table and limped away without a word.
“He wanted me to tell you that he regrets asking you to stay. He keeps forgetting how goddamn stubborn you are.”
My head snapped up and I found Jeremy smiling at me.
“His words, not mine.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Good thing he sent you instead of coming himself.”
Jeremy chuckled and picked up his beer.
We sat in silence, simply drinking and sharing each other’s company. I tried hard to focus on anything but the Left Hand, but couldn’t help it. They scared me more than any Pureblood group should. They’d gotten onto Luna Cult property and crucified one of their werewolves before he could shift. It was pretty damn hard to sneak up on a werewolf, though I knew it could be done.
The Cult had to be compromised. It was the only way they could have pulled it off. It also meant that whoever was involved might very well know where I lived. How long would it be before someone ended up dead in my front yard?
It was hard not to jump up and go rushing back home to make sure Ethan was safe. My fingers tightened on the bottle and I had to work hard to keep from squeezing it until it exploded in my hand.
“I’m not staying at the Den,” Jeremy said. “I’m coming home with you.”
“Is that what Jonathan told you to do?”
“No. It was my decision.”
I looked at him. I mean, I really looked.
Jeremy lost his arm because of me. When I’d first met him, he was overconfident and raw. I scared the crap out of him and then a few months later, nearly got him killed.
And now here he was, acting all grown up, sharing beers with the woman who nearly killed him. It was kind of nice to think that despite all the damage I’d done to him physically, he appeared to be stronger mentally. I wasn’t about to take the credit for it, but it gave me hope that things would eventually work out. And hey, if he was stronger because of what I’d done to him, then it proved that despite how horrible I could be, I could still do some good every now and again.
“I’ll leave you be.” He started to climb out of the booth.
“No. Stay.” The words came hard, but I meant them.
Jeremy hesitated. He looked around like maybe it was some sort of trick before sliding back into place. His beer was still mostly full and he reached for it with his one good hand. He toyed with the bottle without taking a drink.
“I could use the company,” I added.
He smiled and took a large drink. He sighed contentedly.
“So, who was the girl you talked to tonight?” I asked, taking a drink of my own. “Girlfriend?”
Jeremy’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on his beer. “Her? No. I don’t know her.”
“She seemed to know you.”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen her around, but don’t know her name.” His brow furrowed. “In fact, she didn’t even tell me tonight.”
I laughed. “I’m not surprised,” I said. “Most guys aren’t really interested in learning a pretty girl’s name before they take her to bed.”
Jeremy actually looked appalled. He sputtered for a moment before shaking his head and looking away.
I chuckled and sat back. Why had I never done this with him before?
“You do know he only wants to help, right?” Jeremy said after a few moments.
I groaned inwardly, knowing he was trying to get me back for those comments about the girl. I was pretty sure he knew I still struggled to sort out the tangled emotions I had for the Denmaster. Everyone had seemed to key in on the fact long before I did.
“I know that,” I said. “But he needs to remember that I’ve helped myself for a long time now. Letting someone else help doesn’t come naturally to me.”
“But is it really so hard to let him try?”
“Yes,” I said. “It is.”
Jeremy smiled. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that.”
I shook my head and took another drink.
There was a long stretch of silence when we both just drank quietly. I could feel Bart’s eyes on us and wondered if he knew who Jeremy was or if he thought the young were was my boyfriend or something. I smiled at the thought.
Then again, what did Mikael think? He might have his eyes closed, but I was positive he knew everything that was going on in the room. Did he know who Jeremy was? Did he know where he’d been? It was one of those things I wished I knew for sure. I didn’t like the idea of Mikael storing any sort of information on my friends.
“Thank you,” Jeremy said suddenly, startling me out of my thoughts.
“For what?”
“For taking me in.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t think I would have made it through those first few months after this”—he motioned toward his missing arm—“without you and Ethan.”
“Ethan took you in first. You should thank him.”
“But it was because of
you that I was there. Sure, you might not have been in the house at the time, but I felt your presence there anyway. It was as if a part of you had never left.”
I gave him a funny look. I might have been the reason he’d moved in, but I was also the reason he’d lost his arm. I didn’t deserve thanks for that.
Jeremy’s bottle was empty. He spun it slowly on the table, not looking up as he spoke.
“Those first few days were hard. After Lei couldn’t . . . when she couldn’t put my arm back . . .” He took another deep breath and I thought I saw tears in his eyes.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said. Something in my chest hitched and I had to clear my throat lest I start bawling myself.
“I was stupid,” Jeremy said, going on as if he hadn’t heard me. “I thought I was tougher than I really was. And when those Tainted came through the door and tore me apart like I was just some rag doll, I realized I had no business living this sort of life.”
My beer was empty. I held on to the bottle, afraid that if I let it go, I’d give in to the emotions suddenly throbbing behind my eyes. I couldn’t imagine losing a part of myself like that.
“It’s hard to slit your wrists when you only have one arm.”
My hand tightened on the bottle. I refused to look up at him now. I knew if I saw tears trailing down his cheeks, I’d lose it and break down too.
“So I tried to chew my way through them instead.” He gave a bitter laugh. “How that would help, I have no idea. I healed long before I ever bled out.”
The couple across the room stood and walked out together. As they left, a trio of men came in, looking as much like vampires as anyone could without showing fang. They scoped the room and then wandered to a table, seemingly disappointed there weren’t more people there they could target.
“I think I might have starved myself or tried again if it wasn’t for Jonathan. He told me to watch over Ethan, giving me something to do. At first, I thought he was trying to get rid of me, but soon started to realize he was giving me a reason to go on. He showed me I was still useful.”
The sound of his voice finally caused me to look at him. He was staring at me with an intensity that was almost scary.
