My eyes turn to Vaughn, who loads a second arrow. A silver-tipped one this time. Without knowing where Seff is in the smoky room, I let the roar in my chest build up to a scream. I target it as precisely as I can, right at Vaughn’s grip of the weapon. The wood cracks as the crossbow falls apart in the hunter’s hands.
His expression remains cool and detached even as he raises his hands in surrender. “Well played, banshee. You might be even more cunning than your mother. But you know what? It only takes one death to break the circle.” His eyes flick to Mason, still by Awan’s unconscious body. Just unconscious, not dead, please, please. “You can protect the lion and the wolf all you want, and your cold one is quite the handful, but what about the other two?”
My throat is painfully raw, but power gathers in my chest on instinct, ready to cause destruction.
Vaughn brings a walkie talkie to his lips. “Darling?”
“Yes, dear?” A woman with a British accent replies.
“Do you have the charmer and the viper?”
“They’re right here.”
“What do you say, banshee? Wouldn’t it be poetic if the charmer died first, just like her mother did? Granted, Sydney wasn’t in the circle, but—”
“Vaughn?” The woman’s voice sounds firm from the receiver. “They’re just children!”
“They’re the beginning of the end for this town,” Vaughn spits out. “Shoot the damn girl.”
The order flushes pure adrenaline through my body. My vision blackens at the edges. I don’t even take notice of my breathing. All I know is that sound wants to rip out of me.
Emotion, thick as blood and dark as the most guarded corners of my soul, swirls inside my chest. It’s power unlike anything I’ve known before. On pure instinct, I know I don’t even need my hands to point it. Arms spread out at my sides and knee bent as I lunge forward, I scream.
The sonic blast is packed into a tight funnel, so clear it ripples the air as it bursts out of me. It slams into Vaughn’s head like a bullet. Despite the scream tearing my chest apart, the rest of the hunters only stare. I’ve targeted Vaughn with all the scream’s intensity, so onlookers don’t even feel the need to protect their ears.
Vaughn sways and squirms through the pain. “Don’t be a fool. If you kill me, the hunters will never let this go the way they did when Collin died. I’m their leader, their hope, their ruler. They’ll march for a fallen king the way they never have before.”
I’ve always known the legacies can be monsters. The cold ones, wolves, and vipers especially. And I’ve tried to count my kind toward the good ones—charmers and lions. But the truth is, I’m something in between. I have the light and good in me, but darkness whispers into my soul.
And now, for the first time, I turn to the monstrous part of me.
The creature, not the human.
Bloods spurts from Vaughn’s nose, but I don’t stop screaming. He deserves this and much, much worse.
“Cami!” Mason calls from behind me. “Cami, stop! You’ll kill him.”
His footsteps sound heavy behind me, and then Mason is at my side, reaching for my arm. Before he’s grabbed it, a white wolf descends upon him, sending the both of them rolling on the ground.
I watch Vaughn’s eyes lose focus as his face grows purple. I could do it. Get revenge for Mom and rid the world of the cruelest hunter. I could kill him with a scream fueled by the pain he’s caused me. I can make sure he never hurts anyone in my circle.
But Mason’s plea rings in my ears.
I’m not like Vaughn. I don’t take justice into my own hands, not to the extreme level he does. I’m powerful, and finally I’m not afraid of it. But I won’t let pain make me so cruel that I lose my humanity.
My lips smack together, cutting off the scream. I clasp my palms over my mouth, horror unfurling in my chest. The fear that I’m too late, that too much damage has been caused slams into me as I watch Vaughn’s body drop to the floor.
I try not to think that this is my banshee’s premonition, warning me of his death.
He’s completely still. I can’t help but think the worse, a hot flash washing over me.
The hunters watch in terror, but seem too afraid to rush to him, so I wail, “What are you waiting for? Help him!”
The cold ones drop the hunters they’ve been fighting. Even Seff and Mason snap out of their intense brawl.
A firefighter checks Vaughn’s vitals. “He’s alive, but we need to get him to a hospital.”
Relief floods my lungs as I breathe. The next minutes pass in an odd limbo. The hunters call for an ambulance and under the firefighter’s instructions secure Vaughn and transfer him into the elevator. Seff appears out of a back room, in his human form, though he hasn’t bothered to put on a shirt. Ready to shift again if need be.
Mason helps Awan up, who seems to have recovered for the most part, though his face is ashen. He’ll need rest and time for the protector to heal him completely.
We exit the hotel in groups. Quiet and stricken.
Jean and Jester whisper to each other, then get right on compelling the police and paramedics as soon as the cars with blaring sirens stop in front of The Ravenna. The ambulance staff hooks Vaughn to the machines they have on hand, starting diagnostics. A moment of concentration allows me to hear the phrases, “aneurysm did not rupture” and “few weeks recovery time”. And despite the guilt, I allow myself a small sigh of relief.
The hunters scramble to find his wife. The police speak to Jean, who feeds them a story even I wouldn’t have been able to spin so quickly. How Vaughn invited me to the suite under the pretext that he knew what happened to my Mom, then confessed to her murder, and started a shooting.
Under the influence of her compulsion, the authorities won’t look too deep into the case. I’ll probably have to testify, but it seems the villain in my story will get what’s coming for him.
I gather my circle around me to check on them. Vanessa and Charity have been freed by the cold ones, but they still seem shaken. Mason and Zach are over by the ambulance.
Another group clusters around Andreev, who looks livid. When the hunters gather around him, he walks over as close as he dares to my circle with Jester and his cold ones still guarding my back.
“We won’t forget this, banshee,” Andreev spits out. “The Hunter’s Guild is like a hydra. Cut off a head, and two new ones grow in its place. You’ve thrown adherence to the peace treaty out the window now.”
“Peace?” I croak. “There was never any peace, only the illusion of it. You ambushed me at my Claiming and did your best to get to the members of my circle, even though they pose no threat to you. You’ve always attacked first. Well, I got the message loud and clear now. I won’t keep dancing around the rules when The Guild never meant to obey them.”
They glare at me, but my chest swells with the makings of a terrifying scream. I won’t be silenced and pushed around anymore.
“I’m not the girl who came to town, terrified of her powers. The girl who walked to her Claiming—a lamb to the slaughter. And I won’t be afraid of my circle anymore. It isn’t like the previous one. This circle will be a circle of warriors and protectors.
“All of our families and friends are under our protection now. All of Elmwick’s legacies are under our protection. Any hunter who wishes to abide by our rules, that means to never raise a hand or plot against the legacies, then that hunter shall come to no harm. You can stay and live here in peace. But if you have any delusions about going to war with us... Well, you saw what we can do. What we will do if you become a threat.”
“Well, well, well,” Jester says in a rumbling voice, dripping in glee. I’m surprised he kept his smart mouth shut as long as he has. “Looks like the hunters become the hunted. Run along now.” He waves them off theatrically.
When they don’t move, Jean steps up. “Since we have the speed advantage, we’ll give you a head start. Don’t waste it.”
That seems to snap them into action. Th
ey don’t scurry like frightened sheep, but they move along despite the occasional venomous look they throw at us over their shoulders.
Jester places his hands on my arms, giving me a little squeeze. “I knew you had it in you, banshee.”
The proximity to him makes me a little jumpy, so I swerve out of his grasp. “I appreciate your help tonight.”
“Show me how much.” He places deliberate emphasis on each word. “We made a deal.”
I try to rationalize, to remind myself that promising him a link to my circle was a fair price for putting the hunters in their place, but the greedy spark in Jester’s eyes sets me on edge. What’s more, I still don’t know what makes a circle tip out of control. It wasn’t the case in Mom’s circle, but binding two cold ones to me does not seem like a good idea.
“All eyes are on us, darling.” Jester comes a step closer. “What shall it be? Cementing an alliance or making a very, very nasty enemy?” He whispers the last bit, his hands sliding around my waist.
I’m trapped without a way out. My circle won’t survive a clash with Jester’s army. And I’d never stand a chance of keeping the promise I made to the hunters without Jester’s numbers at my side.
With no small amount of regret, I lift my chin, exposing my throat to him. Jester’s fingers dig into the small of my back as his teeth extend. Then, the sharp canines puncture my throat. It’s a singe of pain, followed by that swaying, wonderful rush of elation.
The colors turn sharper, but even under the surge of dizzying endorphins, I can tell there’s no golden link this time. No sparkling dust. No bond forms between us.
Jester drops me like my blood has turned poisonous. Red stains the corners of his mouth. “It didn’t work. Why didn’t it work?”
“I-I don’t know.”
He leans in, eyes burning into mine as if to tell if I’m lying. “You need to come up with something, right now,” he whispers. Though his tone is severe, it sounds like a plea as well. “If you don’t, even I won’t be able to stop my vampires from tearing you and your circle apart. They already let you go once. They won’t repeat that mistake without a reason. Think fast, banshee.”
My throat swells and bobs. I can’t think straight, not with the sway of the bite still lingering in my veins.
I promised I would protect everyone, but at what cost? What could I offer the vampires who would have drained us of our very last drops of blood in Jester’s Castle if he hadn’t helped us escape?
“Blood,” I whisper. “We’ll find you blood.” I try to convey certainty with a look. “You’re all starving, banished out there until a stray hiker happens upon you. You’re restricted to rare outings in the nearby bigger cities. I can’t promise it will be enough, but we’ll find you some...sustenance in Elmwick.”
His smile spreads, cruel and cold. “My, my, how creativity works under pressure.” He kisses my cheek with ice-cold lips, leaving a smudge of wet blood on my skin.
We pull apart, Jester still holding my hand for dramatic effect. My eyes find Mason, his lanky body back-lit by the ambulance lights. I want to say I’m sorry for the betrayal. He’ll never forgive me for selling out his home and its inhabitants. But I have to be the strong, ruthless queen now, if I want us all to survive.
My stomach punches in as I watch Jester smile and turn to address his cold ones. But he never gets to share the news.
As if in warning, black circles spot my vision, then I know death is coming.
The ambulance behind Mason explodes into flames. For the split-second before the sudden sound slams into me, I watch the fire swirl behind Mason, an image way too familiar from my latest vision.
Chapter 34. Mason
THE PARAMEDICS SIT me down in the open ambulance and clean my cuts. In the other vehicle, a team of three first responders caters to Vaughn while a fourth doctor speaks to Mrs. Hastings. I’m not entirely surprised that Zach heads my way instead of crowding the doctors and trying to sit at Vaughn’s side. If today has been any indication, there’s a rift between father and son.
“You all right, mate?” he asks while the paramedic cleans the cut on my lip.
I hiss at the sharp sting. “I’ve been beaten to a pulp, so what do you think?”
He yanks the sleeve of my hoodie up. “What’s this?”
With pain stabbing at me from a possible concussion, a million cuts and bruises, and what might be a cracked rib, I had completely forgotten about the bite. Stupid Seff. A vicious animal, no matter if he can keep his conscience after the shift.
“Seff bit me.” I study my forearm, covered in drying blood.
I brace myself for what is probably the nastiest-looking of my injuries and pull the sleeve up to my elbow. Zach grips my wrist and angles my arm so he can examine the wound under the thick coat of the sticky blood.
I’m positive Seff sunk his razor-sharp teeth into my flesh, but there are no bite marks. Only a faint, pink circle pinpoints the source of all the blood.
“Lucky.” I breathe a small sigh of relief.
The paramedic examines the wound and disinfects my forearm, getting rid of the blood. “Good as new,” she says, then heads over to the next hunter in line.
“I thought a bite from Seff would be more trouble than this,” I whisper to Zach. “I’m not going to turn into a wolf now, am I?”
Zach’s expression startles me. His green eyes are so intense, they make me feel I’ve blurted out something insane.
“I knew it,” he whispers.
“Am I going to turn into a wolf?” I ask again, because he seems to be drifting off into thought.
“No, mate.” A whisper of a smile plays on his lips. “Trust me, you’re completely unharmed.”
“Isn’t that weird?” I try to remember learning anything about the wolves’ bite, but my mind comes up blank.
“It’s rare,” Zach says. “The bite won’t turn a human into a werewolf unless it’s a full moon, but it usually—”
I stand abruptly, cutting him off. Andreev approaches Cami with a gang of hunters. I can’t make out what he’s saying from afar, so I head toward them. Then Cami’s voice, as if magnified by her powers, carries her message loud and clear.
Her words slam into me like a wall of ice. She can’t mean it, can she?
I understand she’s angry about all the ambushes she and the others have suffered at the hands of the hunters, but her solution is anarchy. To let the legacies do as they please. To have no system in place to protect the humans from them. To trust her circle will remain model citizens...
If the booklet we found at Elmwick Academy is any indication, that could never last.
She’s dooming the town to a dark future if she won’t back down. With Jester and Jean at her side, their vicious eyes glistening in red, she doesn’t seem to regret her words.
Just when I think this can’t get any worse, Jester envelops her in his arms. They don’t look intimate. Cami’s posture is stiff, and Jester’s expression—greedy. But the lack of romantic flair between them does little to ease my worries.
Cami lifts her chin, exposing her neck to him.
No. She can’t mean that.
Jester feeds on her with an expression of bliss, but it only lasts a few seconds. He drops her with a sour expression. I can’t hear the next part of their conversation, but I strain my ears to pick it up, anyway. Zach nudges me ahead, probably trying to listen in as well.
That’s when fire and sound burst from behind us. The force of it throws us forward, so Zach and I fall, face first.
I twist on the asphalt, my ears ringing. If I wasn’t concussed before, I sure am feeling that way now. I’m dizzy and unable to lift myself up. My eyes refuse to open, squeezed shut on instinct.
“Mason?” Zach’s voice breaks through as the ringing in my ears subsides. “Come on, mate. Up, up.” He pulls me to a sitting position. “There you go.”
I force my eyes open at last. It’s madness around us. People running, crying, screaming for their friends or famil
y members. I scan the street for the source of the explosion. Next to me, Zach does the same, his breaths rasping.
We spot it at the same time.
One of the ambulances is a charred shell of its former self. It’s the ambulance where the doctors were fussing over Vaughn. The sight of his body turned to coal, still on the stretcher, punches through my gut.
Zach goes very still. I choke on the words, not knowing what to say. Shock washes over me still.
“Zach?” Mrs. Hastings’ scream cuts through the stupor the sight of the ambulance slipped us into. “Are you all right?”
She rushes over and dives into his arms. Zach squeezes her tightly, his breaths turning ragged.
All around us, the paramedics rush to people’s aid. I count four of them, same as before. So none was with Vaughn when the explosion happened. My mind is sluggish and confused, but that detail still tugs at my attention. Something doesn’t feel right. Ambulances don’t just explode.
I whirl around once more, scanning the crowd for the legacies. Then, before I can help it, I’m running toward Cami. She and her circle buddies were further away from the blast. They seem to have stayed on their feet through it. The others surround Cami, who’s sitting on the sidewalk, white as a sheet and trembling violently.
I push between Awan and Seff, elbowing Seff for good measure, and kneel, so I’m at her level. Her ragged breaths and chattering teeth are enough to alert me to her panic. It must have been the sound. It almost deafened me. What did it do to her supernatural hearing?
I resist the urge to say her name, but I chant it on the inside. Cami. Cami. Cami.
She looks so fragile, like the smallest movement or sound would break her. I reach out and brush my fingers against her cheek. The mere contact makes her stir, but her eyes remain squeezed shut as a last resort to make herself feel safe.
“Cami...” This time I call for her quietly. I want to root her to reality, to me.
Her lips purse, but it works. She finally looks at me with terror in her stormy, blue eyes. “Mason?”
Suspension (Elmwick Academy Book 2) Page 24
