by Rye Brewer
I opened my mouth, unsure of what would come out.
My phone vibrated.
Saved by the text, I thought as I slid it from my pocket.
Sledge: There’s been word about Gage.
I looked at Vance. “I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry. It’s important.”
8
Anissa
I guess we’d better get going.” I couldn’t imagine Allonic scaling the side of a high-rise. How was I supposed to sneak him down to the sidewalk?
As it turned out, he had a better idea. “Here.” He slid his cloak from his shoulders and handed it to me.
“What’s this for?”
“Remember? To enable you to travel without using spiritwalkers. If you want to see your boyfriend, we’d better get moving.”
It took a second to understand. “You’re going to take me through a shade portal?”
He nodded.
“You just told me you couldn’t disclose that information. Won’t it get you into trouble?”
His smile was surprising. “I can handle a little trouble.”
My heart swelled with affection for him as I wrapped the cloak around me.
I felt him take me by the arm to lead me into the portal—the sensation of going from one dimension to another without being able to see was unnerving, but not as much as it had been at first.
“You can take it off now.”
I held my breath, wondering what I would see around me when I did. I couldn’t have imagined what greeted me once my head was free.
“What is this place?” The air was cold, damp, and still. A fog rolled across the ground, and I could just make out the tops of crumbling headstones in the extreme darkness. I shivered—it was downright creepy.
“A cemetery, obviously.”
“This doesn’t resemble any cemetery I’ve ever seen.”
The sky was so dark, so inky black, it felt as though we had left reality. Then again, maybe we had—or maybe this was reality, and what I thought was real was merely another, smaller dimension.
“Don’t worry about it right now,” he murmured. “Follow me.” He walked toward a massive, marble mausoleum in front of us.
I hated the feeling of not knowing where I was stepping thanks to the fog, but following Allonic’s footsteps helped. Like walking through the path someone else carved through a deep snowfall.
We rounded the mausoleum, and when we did, I barely made out the sounds of voices. The sound was flat, strange, but I recognized one of the voices right away.
I reached out and touched Allonic’s arm in surprise. I hadn’t expected us to go straight to him.
He only nodded. “I told you,” he whispered.
Jonah sounded angry. I couldn’t tell what he was talking about, or who he was talking to.
I stepped out a little, enough to see him in front of the structure. He was with the same tall, muscular vampire I’d seen him with on the roof, plus a beautiful brunette who definitely wasn’t human. I couldn’t put my finger on who or what she was, but I could sense the preternatural air about her.
The older vampire turned his head when he noticed me, which made Jonah swivel toward us.
His face was contorted in anger until he recognized me—then a smile broke over it, quickly followed by concern.
“What are you doing here?” he asked as he rushed to me.
Then his arms were around me and everything was all right because he was here, with me, no matter where “here” was or what he was doing with the other two.
I closed my eyes and let myself sink into his hug for a moment.
“How did you get here? How did you know where I was?” His eyes were bright, sparkling even in the pitch-black. The warmth and excitement in his voice were heartening.
I had half-worried he’d be angry with me for unexpectedly appearing.
There was a noise behind me, and we both twisted around as Allonic stepped out from the shadows.
“Oh, that’s how,” Jonah said with a nod of his head. He didn’t sound unhappy.
What a relief.
The older vampire approached, nodded, too. “Allonic,” he said in a deep, sure voice.
Allonic nodded in return. “Fane.”
Fane!
I knew it!
How did they know each other? Fane was rogue… But then again, there was much more to the hidden world than I had ever known. It seemed creatures crisscrossed everywhere—my mother with the shades, beings Jonah happened to know.
He also knew Fane, it would appear.
The world was much bigger and smaller than I could’ve guessed, all at the same time.
Fane and Allonic weren’t friends. That much was clear. But they weren’t enemies.
I heard respect in their voices and saw it in the way they held themselves when they spoke to each other—heads high, shoulders back, neutral expressions.
Interesting.
“Anissa,” Jonah said, leading me to the other vampire. “This is Fane.”
Why did I hear a challenge in his voice? There was no reason to challenge me to accept Fane’s presence—no, he wasn’t the optimal travel partner, but it wasn’t my place to tell Jonah who he was allowed to spend time with.
Was he challenging Fane, then? Why would he do that?
Fane looked at me for what seemed a very long time. Finally, he said, “It’s good to meet you.”
“Can I have a minute alone so we can talk privately?” Jonah said.
He didn’t wait for a reply before pulling me by the hand to a spot on the other side of the mausoleum, where we could be alone. The second we were, he took me in his arms.
I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered.
“I missed you, too.” He pulled back, and I tilted my face up to his for a kiss.
It was electric, and I felt it right down to my toes. I had been so thirsty for his kiss. His arms were so strong. I didn’t have anything to fear when he was with me.
He ran his fingers over my cheek. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“You didn’t have to leave me, you know. I could’ve been with you this entire time.”
It reminded me of how irritated I was with him for dumping me in Avellane.
“It was too dangerous for you. I’m not sure it isn’t still too dangerous.” He stepped back. “What are you doing here, anyway? Why did you come after me? Did you trick Allonic or something?”
“I don’t have to trick my brother into helping me,” I retorted. I didn’t much care for the insinuation I had to use trickery to get what I wanted. “I asked for his help, and he was happy to give it to me.” I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “While we’re at it, what are you doing here? What is this place? And why are you with Fane?”
“You don’t need to know. Did you ever think I was keeping things from you to keep you safe?”
“Oh, I see. I’m just the little woman and I need you to protect me and keep me in the dark. Is that it? I didn’t think you were chauvinistic, but I guess I was wrong about that.”
“Don’t overreact. You’re putting words in my mouth,” he hissed. “And if it’s not too much trouble, keep your voice down. We don’t need everybody hearing this.”
“I don’t care if they do. I want them to know you don’t think I can take care of myself. I want them to know you think I don’t have anything to contribute.”
“I never said that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!”
“Then stop treating me like I’m fragile!” I bared my fangs. “I was taking care of myself long before I met you. I don’t need you acting as if I’m going to break.”
“If I could trust you to follow a request every once in a while, maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid to include you in things!” His fangs were bared, too, and we faced each other down.
How had things turned so quickly?
“What request?”
“Let’s see. When I asked y
ou to stay in one place, but you decided to go exploring and got picked up by those shades at Sanctuary. Remember? It wasn’t that long ago. And I went looking for you, which only put me in danger.”
“You sound as though you resent me for that.”
“I don’t resent you, but if you want to know why it’s important for me to keep you out of things, that’s why. I care too much about you. You have a way of getting into trouble, and when I don’t know exactly what we’re facing in the first place—” He reached up to smooth his hands over his hair, like he was trying to calm himself down.
One of his sleeves slid up a little as he did, and I saw red marks on the inside of his forearm.
“Freeze.” I held up my hands, eyes glued to him. “What is that? On your arm?”
“What?” He dropped his arms to his sides and his sleeve slid down again to cover what I’d seen.
“That mark. Like a brand. What is it?” I studied his face. “What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing.” Only he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Don’t lie to me. That’s a brand. Was that on your arm when you decided to dump me with my father? What does it mean?” I had never seen anything like it before.
He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what it means. It appeared out of nowhere.”
“Oh, Jonah.” I reached for his arm without thinking about it, and he pulled away.
“Don’t touch it, please. I don’t know what would happen to you—and it still hurts, too. This is why I’m with Fane. One of the reasons, that is. He said he could help me find out what it means.”
“Have you learned anything yet?”
He seemed reluctant to tell me more, but finally said, “I’ve heard a name in connection with it. Valerius.”
I searched my memory but came up blank. “Who’s that?”
“An Ancient. Nobody’s heard from him in ages. This is his, or so I’ve heard.”
“What does he have to do with you?”
His smile was grim. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Would it ever end? All the mystery and danger? I didn’t want any of it. I wanted to live a normal life, though I was hardly normal.
It seemed like every time I turned around, there was some new challenge. And those challenges kept getting in between us.
“You shouldn’t have pushed me away like you did. You can’t just get rid of me like I don’t mean anything to you.”
“It was because you mean something to me that I left you with Gregor. I can’t make it any plainer than that. Look at this.” He showed me the brand again. It was angry, red, and it made me cringe just looking at it. “If this happened to me, what could happen to you? And how could I live with myself? I mean, I love you.”
He reached for me, and nothing could’ve kept me from his arms. My heart softened. “Jonah, did you forget what I used to do before you loved me? Remember the work I did for Marcus? It’s the reason we met.”
“I know. You don’t need to remind me.”
“I can take care of myself, in other words.”
“I know. I don’t have to deliberately put you in harm’s way, though, do I?” His lips were gentle on my forehead.
Something he said earlier came back to me.
“Hold on a second. You said the brand was one reason you were with Fane.” I looked up at him. “What’s the other reason?”
He frowned. “Gage.”
9
Gage
The first thing I registered was the smell of blood.
Human blood.
My nostrils flared. Immediately, my nerves seemed to sizzle with need. The need for blood. Real blood, not the synthetic version we fed from. Something to make my senses sing, to make me feel alive. The thought of it was enough to make me crave it with every fiber of my being.
The second thing I registered was I couldn’t move. I was weak? I pushed the thought aside as I wondered about my location.
Where am I?
I listened hard for the sound of breathing but couldn’t hear any save my own. I stayed very still, eyes closed, so whoever had me wouldn’t know I was conscious. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but it had been enough to knock me out.
When my ears didn’t reveal anything, I relied on my sense of smell. It revealed a lot more about my surroundings, even if it didn’t provide any definitive answers. I was out in nature, somewhere.
I took a deep breath through my nose. There was a dank, earthy smell. Moss? Leaves, for sure. They were damp, pungent.
I resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose. Clearly, the leaves had been rotting here for a long time. But where was here?
There was no light filtering in through my closed eyelids, so it was night—or I was inside somewhere. That didn’t explain the odors around me, however. I couldn’t be inside and smell so many outdoorsy nature scents. I concentrated harder and heard faint rustling noises in the distance. The woods?
I thought about my circumstances as hard as I could. What happened to me?
The longer I spent in my state of consciousness, the more aware I became of my injuries. I was definitely injured. Every inch of me ached or downright screamed in agony. I shifted a little, or tried to shift, to measure what was happening in my limbs. I could barely move at all, like I had been drained of life.
Drained!
I had been drained of blood—my life source—to within an inch of my life. That was the only way to describe it.
I must be dying.
I had seen vampires after they’d been drained before. Once or twice, during the Great War. I’d been too young to understand much of what I’d seen then, but it came back to me and I understood a lot better.
The complete weakness. The foggy-headed sensation.
I was sure if a wild animal came upon me right now, I wouldn’t be able to defend myself. I’d have to let it kill me. It wouldn’t take long, given the shape I was in.
Somebody had beaten me, too. Badly.
My ribs ached, my face hurt. I was sure there would be bruises all over me if I could see myself. Even if I hadn’t been afraid to open my eyes, could I if I tried? Did I have the strength? Could I move my head to look down at myself?
What had transpired? I tried to push away the pain to focus on what I could remember. I had to try. Somebody—maybe several somebodies—had tried to kill me and had come extremely close. For all I knew, I might still die. It seemed I was teetering on the edge with every breath I took.
No matter how hard I tried, though, the thick fog surrounding my memory wouldn’t let me remember. There was no way I could’ve naturally forgotten something like what I’d gone through. I must’ve felt pain, extreme pain.
There were only two reasons I could think of as to why my memory would be so difficult to access. Either another vampire had compelled me to forget, or a witch had cast a spell on me.
If my memory loss was the result of a vampire’s actions, it would mean breaking league laws that applied to what vampires were allowed to do to other vampires. Compelling was a weapon at its root, used to convince humans or other creatures to do our bidding. If a vampire had compelled me to forget, it had to be a very powerful vampire—and a very dangerous one to break that law so brazenly.
Or maybe it was a witch, after all. They didn’t have the same laws we did. I didn’t know any witches personally, but whoever had tried to kill me might be working with one.
I struggled to move again. I had to try.
Not knowing the extent of my injuries gnawed at me until it was impossible to stay still. I was on my back—the ground was hard and cold beneath me—so I rolled to the side. Or attempted to. I swallowed a groan as every part of my body screamed in protest, but I didn’t manage to hold it in. Not entirely.
A low moan left my lips.
“You’re awake.”
I froze in place. I even forgot the pain, I was so surprised.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
A female voice.
A human.
It was her blood I smelled, after all.
I could faintly hear it—through my own throbbing pain—as her blood was pumping through her veins, traveling through all of those vessels, keeping her alive.
Her blood was crying out to me. Making me want it. Making me crave it. I needed it desperately, required it to heal. I couldn’t live without it. It was the only thing in the world, the only thing in existence.
That blood.
My mouth nearly watered, my body on fire with hunger for her blood.
She gave me a tentative smile. “How are you?” Her voice was like honey, sweet and warm, and anyone could see she was deeply concerned about me.
“I’m… alive?” I whispered. My voice was nothing more than a croak. I tried to speak again, a little louder, but I couldn’t.
She looked me over with eyes the color of the ocean. “Are you hungry? I’m sure you need something to help get your strength back.” She held up a wrapped bundle.
I forced myself to keep my eyes open—my lids wanted to slide shut again, the exhaustion all-consuming—and watched as she unwrapped a small sandwich. My stomach turned at the thought.
Human food? I didn’t need that. I needed something much more primal.
“Here.” She crept toward me, slightly bent over.
I realized we were in a cave with a low ceiling.
She had to stoop to avoid hitting her head. She held out the sandwich and a half-full bottle of water. She couldn’t possibly know who I was, what I was. If she did, she wouldn’t dare be alone with me. Not even when I was on the line between life and death.
We might have forged a better relationship with humans and humankind, but there was still a long way to go before we could be considered friends.
I took a deep breath and gathered all of my strength. “I’m… not hungry. Thank you.”
She frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe it doesn’t matter if you’re hungry. I mean, not if you really, really need to get your strength back. I don’t know what happened to you, but it must’ve been pretty terrible. You need to recover.” She came a little closer, just an arm’s length from me.
