by Rye Brewer
“It won’t go badly,” I promised.
Not for all of us, at least. I had faith in Stark—he would keep himself safe during the fight. And I would do everything in my power to ensure nothing happened to him.
His girlfriend, on the other hand? I couldn’t make any promises on her behalf.
And it was her he was worried about.
The thought turned my stomach.
“Sara won’t have anything to worry about when we’re successful,” I reminded him.
He sighed. “Look who’s telepathic now.”
“Come, now. It’s clear you’re concerned about her.”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
I bit my tongue.
He could be so mindlessly insensitive sometimes, though I couldn’t blame him for it. I’d made it clear I was attracted to him over the years, yes, but he didn’t know how I truly felt.
“I suppose I would,” I forced myself to admit with a soft smile.
I knew it was too much to ask that she die a terrible death along with Samara, but I couldn’t help wishing for it all the same.
I moved closer to him, lowering my voice even further. “Don’t worry about Sara. Once we’re finished here, I can make things very easy for her.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“You still want me to train her, do you not? I can’t imagine that would change simply because of what we’ve found ourselves in the middle of here.”
“Naturally, I want you to. She needs the training. She wants to learn to use her powers to their fullest.”
And oh, his eyes shone when he spoke of her. His voice softened. He was in love—or thought he was.
I bit back a grimace. To think, I had always given him credit for having taste and intelligence.
“We wouldn’t want her to be disappointed, would we?” I gritted my teeth.
It wasn’t as though I had no experience with leading others to believe what I needed them to believe.
But Stark and I had never been that way together. He was the only person besides Elazar with whom I could be thoroughly myself—or at least the closest thing to myself.
There were still parts of me he wasn’t aware of. I doubted he’d approve of my plans for Samara, for one. The only thing I could imagine being worse than not having his love would be not having his respect.
“You sound as though you don’t approve,” he murmured, glancing toward the hall where the judgments had come down.
“I never said that.”
“You never have to.” He sighed, placing gentle hands on my arms. He’d never know how my skin tingled at his touch, even through the robes I wore. “Elewyn…”
“Stark.”
“You know how it is. We’ve had this conversation before.” His eyes were as gentle as his hands, as the sound of his voice.
I hated the way he made me feel at that moment, and I hated him for making me feel it. Like I was someone to be pitied, all for loving him. One of two people in the world I loved, who I would do anything for, go to any lengths to protect, and he treated me like a poor, sad creature who needed to be let down easy. Bile rose in my throat.
“I know you,” I whispered, searching for any spark of something in his eyes. Something other than friendship, understanding, gratitude. Something as deep and as rich as what boiled in my chest whenever I was near him.
“Yes. You do. So you know that I mean what I say.”
I leaned in ever so slightly, so he could smell the fragrance of my hair, the perfume I used on my skin.
She would never be like me. She couldn’t begin to be.
“There are things I can teach her, yes, but I can’t make her special. And I can’t make her as perfect for you as we both know I am.”
A sad smile touched his lips. “Aren’t I the one who decides if she’s special? I think she is. And I think that no matter who she is to me, she deserves to learn how to use her powers. If you’re not the person to teach her, so be it. I had hoped you would be, as my friend.”
As his friend.
All he would ever see me as.
My chest tightened to the point where I was sure I’d never be able to draw another breath.
“I’m the right one,” I whispered, determined to keep a hold on myself—and to keep him close to me for as long as possible.
His smile widened, became more genuine. “Good. And now, I think we all have to focus on what’s in front of us. Don’t you?”
“Of course. You’re always right.”
Except when it came to her. He couldn’t have been more wrong about Sara.
But he would see in time.
15
Felicity
“So, this is ShadesRealm.”
It was beautiful, first and foremost. Not unlike Avellane in many ways—the lushness, the color in the trees and the grass. I could see it all from the top of the hill on which we’d exited the portal from the bleak, dreary Moorvale, with its gray sky and fog.
The sapphire sky in ShadesRealm was brilliant, with puffy white clouds building in the distance, just over the mountains.
Garan pointed toward them. “Our home is there, far beneath the mountains. The wooded area between here and there provides some protection against any who might find their way through the portal we used.”
“Are there wild animals?” I asked, suddenly a little nervous.
His laugh was deep and rumbled in his chest. “Not at all—nothing abnormal, at any rate. But the woods are enchanted, so as to confuse any trespassers who aren’t strictly sure of the way. And even then, the chances of becoming hopelessly lost are quite high. We’ve found many bodies over the years.”
I could hardly imagine anything so grim. The beauty of Avellane was pure. There was nothing secretly sinister about our world.
A quartet of foot soldiers approached, and Garan stepped aside. “I’ll take my leave of you now. You’re more than welcome to go straight to the tower to check on Tabitha’s presence, but I request you make your exit soon thereafter.”
“We understand. Thank you.”
Garan walked off in the general direction of the mountains, while two of the soldiers led us in the opposite direction and the other two followed close behind.
I couldn’t help but be interested in everything around me, no matter the reason for our visit. “Do all the shades live under the mountains?” I asked, wondering if any of them would bother replying.
“Yes. We do. I couldn’t imagine living underground all the time.
“Do you like it?”
Gregor shot me a look, but I wanted to know. I might not ever get another opportunity—and I wanted to know more about Allonic’s life, even if he was nowhere near.
“It’s all we know. We’ve never lived anywhere else.”
“I suppose that makes sense. We live in trees—the fae, I mean. I’m sure you couldn’t imagine that.”
“I’m sure we couldn’t,” another one of them replied. “How do you get to the top?”
“Stairs.” I smiled. “It’s quite ingenious.”
I caught a glimpse of something shimmering in the distance, like a jewel inside the jewel that was the grass under our feet. Lush and thick and deep green. But this was multi-colored, though more muted than the lavish Hermitage.
“What’s that?” I pointed.
“That’s the tower.”
So, Tabitha had lived there. It suited her lovely nature. A tower made of stones which gently sparkled. I noted as we closed in that the mortar between the stones shimmered like diamond sand. Exquisite. Who could’ve constructed such a thing? I wanted to ask until I noted the expression of anxiety on Gregor’s face as he craned his neck and stared to the top.
Right. We were searching for Tabitha, and there was no telling what we would find. The foot soldiers waited for us outside the little door, standing at attention. I felt sorry for them and almost asked them to be at ease, but that wasn’t my place. And Gregor was already through the door and making his w
ay up the winding staircase. I followed, suddenly wishing with all my might that I could course.
By the time we reached the top, we were both slightly winded—but the sight of the disaster that was Tabitha’s room wiped all thoughts of that out of my consciousness.
“Oh, no.”
Gregor walked like a man in a trance, taking one slow step before lifting his foot to take another. As though he dreaded going any further but was unable to stop himself.
The first thing I noted was blood, and a great deal of it. On the floor mostly, but some on the little bed and smeared on the wall beside it. I was sure the room used to be neat and as cheerful as Tabitha could make it, but somebody—or something—had turned it upside down. Bedding on the floor, books strewn about, plates and crockery in shards.
And the blood. I couldn’t take my eyes from it. A person didn’t bleed this much and survive.
Judging from the way Gregor sank to the floor, he had the same idea.
“Oh, no. Oh, no, no.” He held his head in his hands, sounding like a broken man when his voice cracked with emotion.
I wished there was something I could do as tears filled my eyes and threatened to overwhelm me.
I left him grieve for a long time, letting him get himself under control rather than breaking in and embarrassing him. Once he lowered his hands to his lap and took a deep breath, I saw my chance. “Gregor. We should leave. We can’t overstay our welcome.”
“How can I leave, knowing this is here?”
“There’s nothing we can do now,” I whispered. “Whatever has happened, has happened. We can think it over in Avellane.”
ShadesRealm suddenly seemed a lot less lovely than it had before. I wanted nothing more than to get out of there, back to what I knew.
He nodded, and I helped him to his feet. I had never seen him this way—not him, not anybody else. When I thought about how happy he had been to have her in his life again and compared that to the complete devastation written all over him, it was enough to break my heart.
We walked down to the ground and made our way to the portal side-by-side. We never exchanged a word, either with each other or with the soldiers who escorted us.
16
Felicity
Gregor sat in front of the fire, staring into the flames, his expression vacant.
Nothing I did or said seemed to get through to him. Part of me believed it might be best to leave him this way for a while, but the thought of him suffering in silence kept me by his side.
I knew better than to offer anything to eat or drink—frankly, the memory of the blood-stained floor wiped out my appetite, as well.
There was one topic which I knew would help me get through to him. “The white-haired vampire. We both know who that probably was, don’t we?”
He nodded slowly. “Anissa.” His voice was a croak.
“Yes. I’m afraid for her now. Why would she do something like that?”
“There’s no telling. My daughter has a life of her own, and it’s a complicated one. Whatever she did, I’m sure she had her reasons for doing it.”
That was the most understanding he had ever sounded, and I would’ve given him credit at any other time.
“She could be in danger. I’m sure she didn’t expect Ressenden to live long enough to identify her.”
“He didn’t identify her,” Gregor corrected me, still sounded tired. “A white-haired vampire. It could be anyone.”
I wouldn’t argue the point with him. “Perhaps we should go after her, track her down. Warn her, at least.”
My words clearly stirred him, since he rose to his feet. “Yes. We should. And she may have information which would clear up her mother’s disappearance.”
Disappearance. I didn’t dare correct him, but it seemed a lot more than a disappearance to me. I merely nodded in agreement, too glad to see him standing and declaring action to disagree. Too sad for him.
“She might,” I said, trying as hard as I could to sound encouraging.
“And Allonic.”
I froze. “What about him?”
“He may know something, too. He can come and go as he pleases through ShadesRealm. He’s been missing for roughly as long as his mother has.” He shot me a sharp look. “Not that I’m trying to insinuate that he could be in danger.”
“Oh, no, no.” I didn’t think that at all. What I thought—what I feared—was that he would begin to blame Tabitha’s disappearance on Allonic. I couldn’t have that. I’d seen too much of what Gregor was capable of when he had his ire up. It could take a lifetime for him to change his opinion once his mind was made up.
“Damn it, he would know. Or he could at least get into ShadesRealm and help us search further. There must be some clue there. If only Garan had allowed us a little more time, a little more freedom to explore.”
“He was already against our being there, I could tell.” And it was only because of Gregor’s foolhardy promise, but I knew better than to bring that up. “But you’re right. I’m sure if we’d had more time, we would’ve found something. Perhaps we could ask someone else to go in for us? Someone Garan couldn’t object to?”
“He couldn’t object to Allonic. Is there anything you could do to find him?”
There was so much hope in his eyes, almost frantic hope. All I could do was spread my hands and shrug. I knew nothing about getting in touch with him—if I did, I would’ve done it. If he’d been thinking clearly, Gregor would have understood that without asking. He was simply too desperate for help.
He began to pace.
I watched helplessly. “Anissa went to Shadowsbane Island. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Get us there. I want to warn her, as you said, and she may have some idea as to where her brother might be found.” He came to me, eyes searching my face almost wildly, hands gripping my upper arms.
I nodded slowly, speaking deliberately when I replied. “We can go right away.”
17
Gage
“I’m not sure I’m suited for this life.” It came out as a whisper, spoken when the two of us were alone in our room. She was on her side, her back to my front, and the stereo played soft music as we relaxed after a hunt.
“Hmm?” She was almost in a daze, nearly exhausted from her efforts. Her pick of the evening had nearly gotten away from her, and she’d had to learn in a hurry how to course in order to catch up to him.
I didn’t know whether I should repeat myself or not. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud to begin with. I didn’t want her to know how many misgivings I had in regard to our new life. “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”
“Mmhmm.” She snuggled in closer to me and let it go.
A lucky break.
She was a natural hunter, I had to give her that. From that first night, when she’d lured the pair who’d come out of the bar to an alley before feasting on one while Micah took the other, I’d known she was a force to be reckoned with. A passerby had noticed the movement in the shadows, and I’d pulled her in, slicing her jugular with my fangs almost out of reflex—more to protect us than out of thirst, although I had been fiercely thirsty and the scent of blood coming from the two being drained behind me had wrapped me in a fog of lust. Micah had instructed us on leaving the bodies in a dumpster before we’d moved on.
It was her instinct and that never-ceasing lust of hers which unsettled me. She hadn’t slowed down, even after a solid week of almost nonstop hunting from the moment the sun set until right before dawn. She was tearing a swath across the city and loving every minute of it.
“Relax,” Micah had urged once after noticing my concern. “Believe me, there are far more unsolved, unreported crimes in the city than you’ll ever know. We’ve been in business for centuries, and nobody from the clan has ever been caught.”
I had to marvel at that. There were dozens of them, roaming the catacombs during the day and preying on humans at night. Didn’t the police connect the dots between t
he numbers of deaths and the manners of death? All of the victims were drained of blood. It didn’t set off any alarms? He assured me we were safe, and I had no choice but to take his word for it.
That wasn’t my biggest worry—would that it were.
I couldn’t speak up against him, suggest we prey on humans in other areas—maybe outside the city for once. He’d been running the clan almost since his arrival in Europe, after all. He wouldn’t welcome my opinions. If he grew angry and kicked us out…
Or kicked me out…
Not her.
He wouldn’t do that to her. No, not to her. His interest in her was obvious. He didn’t even try to hide it for my sake. He wanted her badly. My arms tightened ever so slightly when I remembered the glance he’d given her after she’d taken down the jogger who’d tried to run away through the dark, deserted square. How his eyes had danced as he locked gazes with her.
The moment I spoke out against his decision making, he’d take it as an invitation to kick me out. I was sure of it. Granted, he was nothing but friendly to my face. That slinking, winking, knowing sort of friendliness which seemed to barely conceal some deeper, darker intention. This wasn’t like opposing Jonah. Jonah was my twin. He’d had no choice but to put up with me.
Only the sensation of her body shaking against mine was enough to pull me out of my dark thoughts. “What is it?” I asked, holding her tight and knowing the answer already.
“It’s like… in the moment, it all makes sense. There’s nothing to think about. I’m doing what I’m meant to do, and I’m good at it, and it’s what I want. I feel alive. But now…”
“This is what we need to do to survive,” I whispered, stroking her blonde hair away from her forehead. “I don’t even want to tell you about the alternative. It’s worse than death.”
