Falter

by V. J. Chambers

  “From Imri.”

  “Imri knows about this?” said Grace.

  I sighed.

  Grace glared at me. “Well, that’s great. What did you guys do? Take out a full-page ad in The New York Times?” She stalked down the hallway, flipping me off as she walked.

  Teenagers. They were impossible to please.

  * * *

  “So, I’ve been thinking about this.” Jason was sitting on the bed, taking off his socks. “And I think we should have a safe word or something.”

  I pulled my nightshirt over my head. “A safe word?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It would make me feel better. That way, I know that if I do anything that you don’t like, that you can stop me. And I won’t hurt you on accident.”

  “Jason, I don’t think I could have said a safe word while you were cutting off my air supply.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, that’s a good point.”

  I sat down next to him on the bed. “But it’s a good idea. Maybe there should be some kind of safe movement instead for when I can’t talk. Like I could blink at you three times or something.”

  He grinned at me. “All right.”

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I never imagined that my life would end up like this. It’s so complicated, you know? I was raised to be the Rising Sun, to head up some huge global government. And if anyone would have told me that I’d end up here, or that all the crazy things that happened to me would have happened…” He shook his head.

  I kissed his forehead. “You’re right. Everything’s nuts. But at least this part is totally normal.”

  “What?” he said.

  “Oh, the fact that we’ve gone all BDSM in the bedroom. It’s a thing, Jason.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s what we’re doing. We don’t have… handcuffs or whips or things like that.”

  “And you don’t think we should?”

  He considered.

  I giggled.

  He grabbed me around the waist and pinned me to the bed. “Just hold still, okay? I have things I’m planning on doing to you. All kinds of nasty things.”

  “Promise?” I said, smiling at him.

  He kissed me.

  * * *

  ~jason~

  I entered the living room with Azazel. Marlena, Hallam, and Mina were already in there, waiting. Azazel and I sat down on a couch.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” I said. “It sounded serious.”

  “I think it is,” said Mina. “Sorry I made it into such a big production, but I think this involves all of us.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Azazel.

  “Not wrong,” said Hallam. “Not exactly.”

  “Listen to what Mina has to say,” said Marlena. “I’m sure we can find some way to work everything out.”

  “Work things out?” I was confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Mina took a deep breath. “When Chance was captured, I was a mess.”

  “She was,” said Marlena. “And it was tough for all of us here, because we weren’t involved. We’ve given all that up, and we’re keeping our heads down. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy for us to sit back. It was especially hard for Hallam.”

  “She wouldn’t let me leave,” said Hallam. “I wanted to help.”

  “But it was fine,” said Azazel. “We took care of it. We got Chance back.”

  “This time,” said Mina. “But what about next time? You and Jason lead very dangerous lives, and there are people out there who might try to use Chance against you guys again.”

  “No,” I said. “It won’t happen. I can’t let him be taken ever again.”

  “How are we going to stop that?” said Mina. “They got him at school, you know. Snatched him right off the playground. But even if I had been there, I wouldn’t have been able to protect him. I don’t have the skills you guys do.”

  “Well, he can be homeschooled,” I said. “I can do it. We can all do it. We won’t let him out of our sight.”

  “No,” said Mina. “That disrupts his life. You gave him to me in the first place because you wanted him to be normal. You hid him with me. Maybe it’s time that Chance and I go back into hiding.”

  I got off the couch. “No. You can’t… you can’t take him.”

  She looked down at her hands. “What if something happens to him, Jason?”

  I crossed the room to her in two steps, and I took her by the shoulders and yanked her to her feet. “You can’t take him away from me.”

  “Jason.” Hallam was next to me, his hand on my shoulder. “Let go.”

  I sucked in breath through my nose. I let go of her, turning away. Azazel was behind me. She reached for me, but I moved out of her grasp.

  “I told Mina that I thought her solution was extreme,” said Marlena.

  “It wouldn’t work, anyway,” I said, turning back to Mina. “Imri, the man who took him before, already knows about you and Chance. The kind of person he is, there would be no way you could hide from him. I need to be close. It’s the only way I can protect him.”

  Hallam cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should teach Chance to, um, defend himself a little bit. After all, Jason, you were about his age when—”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t want that for him.”

  Azazel wrapped her arms around me from behind, and I let her. Her voice came from my shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be anything extreme, Jason. We wouldn’t give him a gun or anything like that. Right, Hallam?”

  “Of course not,” said Hallam. “Simple things.”

  Marlena looked at Mina. “Would that make you feel better?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mina. “I don’t want to teach him that the world’s a dangerous place. He’s so sweet now, and I don’t want to take that from him.”

  “Exactly,” I said, looking at Mina. At least she and I agreed about this.

  “We can’t lock him up all the time, though,” said Marlena. “He needs to have friends his own age. School is a good place for that to happen.”

  “Maybe a different school,” I said. “He’s going to a public school, right? There’s got to be more secure places we could send him.”

  Mina shook her head. “Nothing close. I looked.” She twisted her hands together. “I talked to Boone about it, and he said that he could create completely different identities for us, and that he could hide us where no one could find us. You guys wouldn’t even know where we were. Just like before.”

  “No,” I said. “I can’t. I can’t lose him again. I just got to know him.”

  “What if knowing you kills him?” said Mina.

  I didn’t answer.

  “That’s not fair,” said Azazel.

  “Maybe not,” said Mina. “But I’m his mother. And I have to make sure—”

  “No,” I said. “Look, we’ll change things. We’ll make sure that he’s safer. But you can’t take him away from me. He’s my son. He needs me. I need him.”

  “Chance would be crushed if he lost Jason again,” said Azazel. “You can’t deny that’s true.”

  “If the choice is between his being crushed and his being alive, I pick the alive part,” said Mina.

  “His life was never in danger from Imri,” I said. “He wouldn’t have hurt a child.”

  “You’re sure about that?” Mina’s voice was harsh.

  She was right. I couldn’t be sure. Not really. “Let us try to make things safer for him. You guys running away again is like the worst case scenario.”

  Mina sighed. “Fine. I’ll try it your way. But make sure you understand something, Jason. If anything happens to him again. If he gets kidnapped. If they hurt him in any way. If that happens, I am taking him. I’m running off with him and you won’t know where he is. So, you’d better keep him safe.”

  I swallowed. “Of course I’ll keep him safe.”

 
; She didn’t look convinced.

  * * *

  I walked in the door of headquarters to see Azazel appearing at the end of the hall, coming out of the elevator. She waved.

  I waited for her to walk over to me. I’d been back at home hanging out with Chance when I got a text from Boone that we should all meet at headquarters. “You know what this is about?” I asked her.

  “Clueless,” she said.

  “Huh.” I shrugged. We walked back the hall and into the main meeting room.

  We were greeted by the sight of Grace sitting on the table and Boone kissing her. Her legs were wrapped around him. His hands were tangled in her hair.

  I cleared my throat.

  They broke apart.

  “Hey,” said Boone, blushing.

  “This is why you texted us?” said Azazel.

  He laughed. “No.”

  “No,” said Grace, hopping off the table. “Sorry, it was my fault. I can’t keep my hands off of him.”

  Boone’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.

  Jude appeared behind Azazel and me. “Wonderful. It’s going to be so much fun being the fifth wheel around here.” He squeezed between us, glaring at Azazel.

  She looked away.

  Which reminded me. There had been some argument between the two of them, hadn’t there? I guessed they hadn’t made up.

  “Sorry,” said Grace.

  “I was in the middle of doing target practice,” said Jude pulling out a chair and throwing himself into it. “Can we hurry this up?”

  I sat down too. “You were doing target practice? Like, with a gun?”

  “No,” said Jude, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “with a wet noodle. Yes, with a gun, Jason.”

  Azazel also sat down. “Since when do you want to shoot?”

  Jude shrugged. “I felt like I was getting rusty.”

  Azazel chewed on her lip. “Jude, listen, maybe you and I should—”

  “No thanks.” He turned expectantly to Boone. “Why are we here?”

  Boone looked back and forth between Jude and Azazel. Then he looked at me.

  I sat forward, leaning my elbows on the table. “Is there something going on here that I should know about?”

  “No,” said Azazel.

  “No,” said Boone.

  Jude smiled at me. “Oh, everything’s absolutely fine, big bro.”

  Right. I didn’t think so.

  “Uh,” said Boone. “I’ve been in touch with Imri.”

  “What?” I said. “Why would you talk to him? Didn’t I tell you that he’s got us all under surveillance or something? He knows more than he should about us, and he’s going to use what he knows to hurt us.”

  “Look, I’ve been all over our security, Jason,” said Boone. “There’s no way he’s spying on us.”

  “Then how else did he know—”

  “About Grace?” said Boone. “I imagine he hacked into Fleming’s cameras, just like I did. Trust me, no one was hacking me.”

  That might explain his knowing about Grace. But it didn’t explain Patience. However, I couldn’t exactly bring up the call girl I’d murdered, could I? “I don’t trust him.”

  “Oh, I don’t either,” said Boone. “But he’s got a line on a group of captured immortals—or Nephilim, whatever—on the other side of the country. And he’s got a jet.”

  “What?” said Azazel, sitting up.

  “Yeah, he wants to sponsor us to go across the country and rescue people,” said Boone. “Which, um, is what we do, right? So can anyone think of a reason we should say no?”

  “We can’t trust him,” I said. “Besides, isn’t this what we said about Fleming? And it turned out Fleming wasn’t selling blood after all.”

  “True,” said Grace, “but Boone was thinking that if we work closer with Imri, we can find out what he’s up to as well.”

  “He knows our secrets,” said Boone. “But what if we find out his? What if we can manipulate him too?”

  Azazel smiled, nodding. “Yeah. What if we can manipulate him?”

  “No way,” I said. “You guys aren’t taking him seriously.”

  “He’s going to give us a lot of cool stuff,” said Boone. “You’ve got a lot of money, Azazel, don’t get me wrong, but the things he can afford…”

  Boone, Azazel, and Grace all grinned at each other. They were sold. I could see it.

  Jude stood up. “That’s it? We’re going to go kill more people?”

  “We’re going to save people,” said Azazel.

  Jude shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. Call me when it’s time to board the jet.” He left the room, shooting me a particularly venomous look on his way out.

  I sighed. “I’m not going to be able to talk you guys out of this, am I?”

  Azazel threw her arms around me. “Come on, baby. You know you’re itching to shoot vampires. Don’t lie.”

  And when it came down to it? She was right.

  Want more Jason and Azazel?

  Gasp, Jason and Azazel: Ambrosia, Book Nine

  (Keep reading for a sneak peak.)

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  GASP

  ~jason~

  After each girl I took, I always thought I’d banished it. I thought that I’d never have to do it again. That this particular redhead would be the last one.

  But the truth was…

  It was getting worse.

  At first, it had only been once a month. Then once every two weeks. Now I was taking girls twice a week. Once three times.

  It would come on me—the urge. I’d start thinking about it, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get the thought out of my head.

  It seemed like the fact that it horrified me made it even more attractive. The fact that I told myself not to think about it meant that I could only think about it.

  And then, there I’d be, out cruising the city. I always went into New York to do it. More anonymity there. More girls that went missing. More chance that no one would notice what I was doing.

  I wore a mask now. It was better that way. That way the girls didn’t recognize me. If I did it without the mask, then they’d be able to describe me to the police afterward. And even if I managed to get them the blood in time, I’d have to kill them anyway in order to keep my secret.

  Like I killed Patience.

  I forced the girls to drink my blood before I started to carve into them.

  It wasn’t ideal.

  My blood healed them, and—generally before I got to the last few slashes—the first ones I’d made had healed up.

  I couldn’t get them… perfect.

  The way I wanted them.

  But it was enough.

  It kept the darkness at bay.

  I liked it when they were natural redheads. That was the best. But sometimes, I couldn’t find anyone who would do, and I had to settle for some girl with a dye job.

  I hated the dye jobs, because they were never quite right. Real red hair was sort of fiery and orangey—the dyed reds were always closer to shades of mahogany—too maroon, too red.

  I wore sunglasses and a cap when I picked them up. I couldn’t chance the mask then. No girl would get in a car with a man in a mask—not even a prostitute.

  Once they were in the car, I knocked them out. Our headquarters, the old place where Bartholomew and the other vampires had kept us captive, was still well-stocked with tranquilizers. It was easy to slip the syringes into their necks.

  Then, while they slept, I drove out of the city, far out into the country, to the old farmhouse where I did my work. I put them in the basement, and I put on my mask.

  When the girls woke up, I fed them my blood.

  I talked to them sometimes. Sometimes I didn’t. Sometimes the talking excite
d me. Sometimes it only seemed like a frustrating prelude to the main event, and I didn’t have time for it.

  This time, I hadn’t talked much.

  I’d managed to get the girl’s name. She said it was Claire, and it was such an unassuming name, I didn’t think she was lying about it. Claire had been a screamer. Her hair wasn’t really red. I could see her dark roots coming through. But I hadn’t cared.

  Right then, she was screamed out.

  She was still crying a little bit, but she’d stopped struggling against the ropes that tied her to the chair down here.

  I’d stripped her down to her underwear—not for any sexual reasons. There wasn’t anything sexual about what I was doing—not really.

  Sure, there probably was. I knew it had something to do with the Sons of the Rising Sun and the way I was raised—taught that women were all evil temptresses and that sex was the way they stole power from men. And it had something to do with Lilith. That was the red hair part.

  I wasn’t an idiot. I’d studied psychology, so I knew that it was all tied up in my fucked-up psyche.

  But I didn’t take off her clothes because of some sexual reason. I did it so that I had easier access to her skin, so that I could cut more of it.

  And doing it—cutting her—it didn’t turn me on or anything. Not in any traditional sense. I wasn’t hard.

  But…

  Afterward, there was a release. A weight that was lifted.

  I felt… better afterward.

  That was why I kept doing it.

  I stood over Claire, surveying her mangled body, watching the wounds on her shoulders knit themselves back together.

  She sniffled and hiccuped. “Please stop,” she whispered.

  I ignored her. If I engaged with them when they were pleading with me, it only made them do it more, and it annoyed me. Anyway, I was stopping. I was done. There wasn’t anything else to do with her.

  My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I yanked it out.

  There was a text from Azazel. Where are you? it said.

  Shit. That was right. We were supposed to be having some kind of talk tonight. She said she had something she wanted to tell me.