by Rye Brewer
Garan barely glanced my way as I pushed past his soldiers. He waved a hand to call them off when they made a move toward me. He was pacing back and forth in front of the throne, at the base of the stairs leading up to it.
“Leave us. I’m certain my half-breed cousin has plenty to say about many things, judging by his insistence.”
Only when we were alone did I speak. “Have I heard correctly? Did you take a prisoner who trespassed in my mother’s tower?”
“Your mother’s tower,” he sneered, then shook his head. “You did always have difficulty with the simple things, didn’t you? Your mother did not own that tower. She owned nothing. Everything she had, she had thanks to the benevolence of my father. It was as his brother would’ve wanted, or so he always said.”
“Regardless,” I growled, barely holding my temper at bay, “I’ve heard about the trespasser in the tower. It’s true, I assume.”
“It’s true.”
“And you believe this is an act of war?”
“I do,” he sneered. “What else? Everyone knows we draw a hard line when it comes to trespassing on our land. It’s no secret. And considering that I only just met with the two of them and even provided an escort through ShadesRealm, so they could examine the tower themselves…” He shook his head.
I frowned, lost again. “What do you mean? Who had an escort?”
“Gregor and that... associate of his. Whoever she is to him. They both knew better, but she came back. Alone. Without permission. That, I cannot abide.”
His associate. My head spun. The room shifted around me. It couldn’t be. White-haired. I had assumed that meant Anissa.
Felicity had white hair, too.
“What is it?” he asked, eyeing me closely. “Do you know her?”
“Vaguely,” I lied, waving a hand as my stomach turned in pure agony. “She’s a friend of my half-sister’s.”
“Right. I often forget you’re indirectly related to that lot.”
A lie, and we both knew it. He was keenly aware of my heritage, of the fact that my mother once consorted with the king of the fae.
Felicity. Sweet Felicity.
I had willed myself to forget about her, told myself time and again that she’d never forgive me for what had led to Tabitha’s death.
She had come back. For what purpose? If she’d found what I’d found back at the tower—with the exception of the cage, which I had removed from the room—she knew Tabitha was dead. She had to know. Why would she return?
Unless…
She was looking for me.
Would the torment ever end? Would the ripples which extended out from my one act of greed ever cease expanding?
I fought to speak over the lump in my throat. “So. It’s clear that my mother is dead. Everyone knows it.”
“We do,” he replied, arching his brow. “Is there anything you would like to say about that?”
“What could I possibly have to say about it?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Perhaps you could illuminate me on how your peaceful, tranquil mother met such a grisly end? I did not see the body, I admit, but I saw the aftermath.”
I ground my teeth.
He chuckled grimly. “You could at least have cleaned up the room.”
My head snapped up, eyes meeting his. My fangs threatened to descend, the vampire nature I’d inherited from my mother surging in my veins. An attack would be the worst mistake I could make—which he was aware of, which was why he goaded me into the rage which surged through me.
I took a deep breath, easing myself back into clear thinking. I needed to keep my wits about me if there was any hope of freeing Felicity and preventing a terrible war.
“I was a bit more concerned with removing my mother’s body from the tower,” I replied, my face as blank as I could make it.
He nodded. “And after that? Where have you been?”
“Taking care of things which needed to be taken care of.”
“Do you know who killed her?” he asked.
We silently appraised each other. I placed myself in his position. Why would he know, unless Valerius had gone on a rampage through ShadesRealm? I doubted the Ancient would be that foolish. He must have slipped out somehow. Who knew what an Ancient was capable of. Possibly even portals. For sure, one that old would know some of the ways in and out of ShadesRealm.
If anyone else had discovered him, he would’ve killed them as well. Anything to make certain there was no way to trace him.
There was no reason to believe Garan was aware of who’d murdered Tabitha.
“No,” I replied, my expression unchanging. I held his gaze, daring him to challenge the truth of my reply.
He didn’t. “I would very much like to know who would dare perpetrate such a crime in ShadesRealm.” Nothing of the fact that an innocent woman was murdered. He cared nothing for that.
“I’m sure you would. In light of this, and the emotions which the crime clearly inspired, it’s natural that anyone who cared for her would want to do anything possible to ease their pain. Isn’t it?”
“You mean the trespassing fae,” he surmised.
“Yes. Who else?”
“Again, the fae had their chance. They knew how I felt about their being here. I was generous in offering them passage when they requested it.” He threw his arms up, every inch the put-upon leader. “How far is my generosity expected to reach? Don’t you see how easy it would be for this generosity to be construed as weakness? I must use this situation as an opportunity to display my strength. Ressenden is dead, but I’m just as strong as unflinching as he. More so, even.”
My hopes faded with every word from his mouth. He had no intention of being reasonable. This was a matter of pride.
More than that. “Besides. I’ve always felt a great affinity for Avellane. I traveled there once, you know, many years ago. Its beauty is unsurpassed. The fae do not deserve all of that beauty for themselves. It’s selfish of them to hoard their treasures as they do—the gems and jewels so freely mined there.”
His description brought to mind the dome of the Hermitage, which indeed was awe-inspiring. He cared nothing for its beauty, or the for the beauty of the land on which it sat. He wanted the jewels. He wanted the riches for himself.
“What’s the point of starting a war over this?” I asked, grasping at straws in an attempt to change his heart. “Why not put together a trade agreement with the fae, instead? Gregor is reasonable. He wouldn’t refuse you.”
“What do I have to offer in return?” Garan scoffed.
“Easy. Your captive.”
That wiped the smirk from his face. He even appeared to consider this—before shaking his head. “No. That won’t work. The agreement would eventually have to come to an end, and I would no longer have leverage.”
Rage threatened to tear through me. She was down there, in the dungeon, probably frightened and cold and alone, thinking I had deserted her. Seeing no end in sight. And I couldn’t even manage to bargain for her. “You might be surprised what Gregor is willing to agree to, if it means her safety,” I argued.
“She means that much to him?”
I shrugged, unwilling to give up too much.
He frowned, but not for long. “I don’t see why I should have to explain my reasoning to a half-breed, regardless of the fact that we share blood. I never even consented to your presence here. Get out. Stop wasting my time when I have so much to attend to.”
He turned his back to me, ascending the stairs to his throne. There was nothing more for me to do at that point than to leave and think of another way to help her. I had to. There was no way I’d live with myself if someone else I cared for suffered because of me.
And I cared for her, more deeply than I’d ever cared for anyone else. I hoped she knew it.
“One more thing.” Garan’s voice carried across the cavernous room, pulling at me.
I turned to find him glaring down at me, hands at his hips, feet spread. The r
uler, if only in his own mind.
“What is it?” I asked, careful to keep the disdain from my voice.
“Don’t even think about trying to free her.”
I blinked, swayed by his insight but unwilling to reveal this. “Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know—then again, I don’t know or understand many things about you, shared blood or no shared blood. Every entrance leading into or out of these caves has an enchantment placed on it. No one without shade blood in their veins will be able to come or go. I thought you should be aware of that, in case you had any ideas.”
I remained silent, merely turning with a sweep of my robes and striding from the throne room with my head held high.
Even as every last ounce of hope drained away.
23
Cari
It took another few days for me to decide that the worst part about being a vampire was the lack of sleep. No sleep meant no dreaming. No escaping reality.
I couldn’t even dream about Gage. Even that slight bit of mercy was denied me as I struggled to get through life without him.
“How long do you think they’ll keep him alive before they decide to kill him?” I asked Micah at one point, on the way back from a hunt.
We couldn’t be as bold as we had at one time, when I first arrived in Paris. I felt uncomfortable with the idea of revisiting our old hunting grounds. That was where Gage had been captured, after all. What were the odds the League wouldn’t keep returning to the same place to look for me, too?
After I had protested long enough and loudly enough for Micah to understand how serious I was, he had relented and announced that we could start picking our victims from the parks nearby. He wasn’t happy about that. I guessed the new arrangement didn’t have the same sexy, dangerous feel.
But he wouldn’t allow me to hunt alone. He insisted on being with me, no matter how many times I’d reminded him that he could easily resume his activities in the streets surrounding the Moulin Rouge.
He sighed, sounding more than a little put out at yet another question about Gage. Could it be that he was getting tired of talking about him, of answering the questions I asked? On the one hand, I understood how he’d feel that way. I also understood that he might feel somewhat guilty for having allowed Gage’s capture—indirectly, of course.
But we had fled to Paris for our safety, and Micah had assured us of that safety. I feared on hearing that exasperated sigh that guilt nagged him the way it constantly tugged at my heart.
On the other hand, his irritation annoyed me. He had no right to act as though it was inconvenient, listening to my concerns. He was the one who never left me alone. I didn’t ask for him to trail me, to insist on accompanying me on the hunt. I was more than capable of handling myself and had no intention of revealing myself to the rest of the world.
He didn’t want to hear that.
“I honestly don’t know,” he muttered. “They might keep him alive indefinitely while waiting to find you. They might have killed him already.”
“Oh.” I leaned against the tunnel wall, still a distance from where it widened and became the makeshift headquarters of his clan. There were no bodies there, at least, no skulls marking the lives of untold thousands of Parisians who’d breathed and loved and died long before I was born. I didn’t have to feel quite as creeped out there as I did once we moved deeper into the Catacombs.
He took notice of my reaction and immediately doubled back to where I lingered. “I’m sorry. That was unforgivably insensitive of me. I forget myself sometimes. Please, forgive me.”
“You’re forgiven,” I whispered, fighting against a wave of despair. He might already be dead. And, so long as I was being honest with myself, that might be preferable to the alternative of endless torture.
“Come. We just had a good hunt. Let’s go home.” He held his hands out to me, taking mine and leading me further down the tunnel.
Home. Was it home? I lived in a graveyard, surrounded by the evidence of death. I caused death so that I might live. Was this what the rest of eternity would be like for me?
Gage once told me that those of his clan, and indeed all the civilized clans, drank synthetic blood. No one had to die for them to survive.
“Have you ever thought of drinking processed blood?” I asked Micah as we continued on, the overhead bulbs lighting our way.
“What?” he laughed, as though this were the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “Why would I choose to drink skimmed milk when I can feast on the richest, sweetest cream?”
“I was just wondering.” More and more, it seemed as though we spoke a different language. He was so different from Gage, I wondered how they’d ever become friends in the first place.
“Is conscience getting in your way?” he asked.
“A little, I guess.”
Gage understood. I didn’t want to say it out loud and drive the point further home, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. He had always understood without being told that I still went through bouts of guilt and horror at what I was capable of. I wasn’t certain those feelings would ever go away.
“Think of it like this, cheri,” he advised as we reached the hub of the clan’s home, with the tunnels which then spread out in different directions. “Without a hunt for a vampire to go on, what’s the point of living? Without the hunt, without the chase and the conquering of another creature, there is nothing more to do. Wait to die, I suppose. Make love.” A sly smile spread across his face.
But for Gage, there had been more to life. He’d had a family, a clan, friends. They had gone out on the town, all of them, had enjoyed themselves as best they could. Before I came along and ruined it all for him, of course.
I didn’t give voice to any of this. I merely shrugged. “You have a point.” I wouldn’t entertain his allusions to lovemaking. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
He patted my hand before raising it to his lips. “I must bathe after all that exertion. I’ll see you later.”
“You know where to find me.” I tried to sound cheerful—he deserved that much for protecting me the way he did—but it fell flat.
He had the grace to overlook this, walking away in the direction of his room before I turned to go to mine.
It was time to admit the truth I had been fighting for weeks, even before Gage’s kidnapping.
I couldn’t go on like this.
There was nothing real, nothing worthwhile. Killing for the sake of survival, and that was all. The rest of the clan all but ignored me—all but Naomi, that was. At least I still had her.
Micah was another story. I couldn’t quite figure him out. I didn’t feel as though I could trust him, which was the most disconcerting thing of all. I never knew quite how to take him. He seemed to be joking so much of the time, but there was an inevitable edge to every joke.
Not only that, but his advances had become more than I could fend off.
He was attractive. More than attractive. But he wasn’t who I wanted—and not just because no one would ever compare to Gage. He didn’t care about anything or anyone, not really. I couldn’t be with anyone who had no kindness in their heart.
It didn’t matter the danger I’d be in if I left. I needed to do it. Every minute I spent here was putting them one minute closer to being discovered. If the League found me, and them by default, they’d all face my fate. I couldn’t have that.
It was nearly dawn when we’d returned from the hunt, which meant I’d have to wait until sunset. Once that came, I’d leave. Even though I had no idea where I was going.
* * *
The tunnel was empty, without the normal chatter floating along its length. Everyone had gone out to hunt.
I’d begged off, encouraging the others to go about their normal business without me. They didn’t need to protect me for once. They could be free for the night. The way several pairs of eyes had lit upon hearing this wasn’t lost on me. I weighed them down.
They wouldn’t have to wo
rry about that for much longer. I was doing the right thing, for sure.
I chose only what I absolutely needed to take with me—including one of Gage’s shirts, one which reminded me the most of him—and shoved it into a backpack before slinging the pack over one shoulder and heading out of my room.
The silence all around me had an eerie feel to it, considering the number of skulls I passed as I tiptoed along the length of the tunnel. They watched, silent as always, witnessing what I was endeavoring to do. If they held an opinion, they didn’t share. Just as well.
I reached the hub, with its spokes, and took the tunnel which led to the entrance. I could only hope none of them would come back early and run into me. If Micah found out…
What would he do? A flash of rebelliousness went off in my head. What could he possibly do to me? I wasn’t a child. He didn’t control me.
Right?
I made it down the tunnel and up the stairs to the overgrown, long-abandoned restrooms without being spotted.
The night was crisp, chill, and I took deep gulps of air once I reached the weed-choked courtyard just behind the iron fence. All I’d have to do would be to go through the hole in the fence and out to the street, and I would be free.
Free for what? To destroy myself? I still didn’t know exactly where I was going, but I had money left from what Gage and I had brought with us. I could get a hotel room, even if it was a crummy little hole in the wall. I didn’t need much. Just privacy. No questions.
“Decided to go hunting after all?”
Naomi’s voice startled me to the point where I dropped my bag.
“Oh, God, you almost scared me to death,” I laughed, one hand over my chest.
Damn it! What would she say? Would she tell the others?
“What are you doing out here?” she whispered, emerging from the shadows.
“Were you waiting here for me?” I asked, taking a backward step to put space between us. I didn’t like the look in her eyes. They had never gleamed as they did now—at least, not when she was looking at me.
“Yes,” she admitted simply, shrugging. “I knew you had a plan. You were a bit too eager to be left alone.”
