by Sage, May
He headed south and found Mikar patrolling with the frightening, elusive vampire he'd seen earlier. Ruby.
"Hey."
"How is she?" the barbaric woman asked.
Bash was surprised she spoke at all, let alone in English. He couldn't quite place her thick accent. Old Scottish, perhaps, or maybe Irish. Something lost a long time ago.
"Well enough," he replied, then paused. "Thirsty. I think my presence wasn't helping."
Mikar and Ruby exchanged a glance that seemed knowing; they understood thirst so strong they wanted to drink from fellow vampires.
Bash wondered how many among their kind experienced it. Maybe it was a lot more common than what he’d believed.
"It'll fade in time. The girl has courage. If she's in trouble, you come to me," Ruby ordered.
Bash nodded, and she walked away, heading toward the Wolvswoods.
"Don't take it personally. She doesn't like people much."
Bash laughed. "Who am I to talk?"
He'd avoided most of his friends for months.
Mikar glanced at him. "You seem to be doing better."
"Yes." Thanks to Catherine. "I'm getting used to the smell. Or, rather, distracting myself by ignoring it. My brain is so weird. Unfamiliar."
"It's still your mind. It's just been improved. Think of it as though you just added hardware to an existing computer. Maybe you upgrade the disk or the memory, but it still has the same files, the same operating system."
"Just faster," Bash added. "And with different limits."
Mikar nodded. "Exactly. But you can run new programs now."
He thought back to what Chloe had done earlier. Bash had seen Levi appear and disappear in a cloud of mist and thought nothing of it because he was Levi. Old, powerful, larger than life. But seeing Chloe, who'd been turned alongside him, vanish and inhabit birds like that? It only emphasized the extent of his ignorance about his new body and mind.
"I should learn," he said carefully. "I want to learn how to operate the new system. Not just to control my thirst. I want to know how to sync with animals, read minds. Use magic if I can. This…thing I've become. It's me. And it doesn't have to be evil. It doesn't even have to be useless."
Mikar chuckled. "Syncing, telepathy, magic? That's not quite three-month-old level. And some never acquire one skill, let alone three."
Bash shrugged. "Might as well aim high. However long it takes."
"Right. Well, I can't help with any of the magic stuff. It's never been my inclination," the slayer told him. "But I can teach you one thing."
"What?"
Mikar grinned. "Your limits. I'm going to give you thirty seconds. No more, no less. Then you'll run from the train tracks back to the Wolvswoods, over and over again, until the end of our shift at six. I will follow that exact path for the next five hours. And if I catch you, I will drink from you until you're at the very brink of death. You may survive, but you will suffer. For days, you will suffer. Your thirst will get a thousand times worse."
Bash blinked, confused. How the fuck was that supposed to be helpful?
"That sounds like a terrible idea. Can we, like, not do that?"
"Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight."
Shit. They were doing it.
Bash dashed south as fast as his immortal limbs could carry him, and then faster. Twenty-seven seconds later, he felt the air shift. Something was following. Something big. Strong.
You may survive.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He ran faster. His limbs hadn't hurt that way since before he turned. His lungs burned and his breathing was ragged—too fast, too hectic.
But he ran all the same, even when his body begged for a break, even when he felt sick.
That was when he realized one thing. He wanted to live. Two weeks ago, he hadn’t been so sure, but now, he was desperate to stay alive.
The sun rose in the distance. Six was drawing near, but his body was betraying him. The predator behind him was closing in.
Fuck. He growled as he pushed for one last sprint. He had this. Until six.
He could do this.
"Hey!"
Bash stopped. Tris was standing in front of him.
He glanced back, seeing Mikar approaching in the distance.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, eyes wide.
He didn't want her in the way when the ancient drew near.
"What are you doing here?" Tris echoed. "It's seven. My shift started an hour ago."
He blinked.
What?
Bash bent forward, holding his knees and breathing hard.
He didn't look at Mikar but felt him approaching all the same.
Why hadn't the ass told him they were past the time? Damn him.
He didn't have the strength to rant. Instead, he simply cut to the chase. "I hate you."
A Curse
When Cat woke up, she immediately headed to the Institute, walking right to the tower the vampires had claimed for their studies. More often than not, only Levi and Alexius occupied the tower. Today, Fin Varra was there too, lounging on a chaise.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“By all means, please interrupt,” Fin said. “I was listening to a dreadfully dull little story.”
Her eyes went from the vampires to the fae, but she decided their conflict was none of her business. She had enough problems of her own right now.
Cat explained everything Anika had revealed about the queen, and her potential affiliation to the Eirikrsons.
“I could be wrong, but I believe there are two distinct threats. The queen, and the other families,” she concluded.
Levi nodded. “Thank you, Catherine. That was helpful. And it fits in with what I know.”
She had other things to say, but she knew she was dismissed. Levi was visibly concerned, so she left the tower, walking down the hundreds of stairs in a flash.
Then her suffering started.
Cat kept her fists, jaw, and teeth clenched through each lesson, feeling like a bomb about to explode. There was one thing on her mind. Just one. Blood.
Worse yet, she didn't even want the blood of anyone around her. Her classmates, her professors, the men and women in the cafeteria all smelled like the most boring bag of O-positive.
She had other prey in mind.
Bash.
What the hell was wrong with her? A fellow vampire shouldn’t be that fucking tempting.
"Hey," Greer greeted her at the start of her alchemy class.
She assisted Professor Helsing, who’d made it down from the tower faster than her.
"You're good?"
Cat nodded. She wasn't quite lying, but she was also stretching the truth a bit.
"Let's see how much your brewing technique has improved in the last week, shall we?" Alexius challenged at the start of class. "We're going to work on a healing brew. You'll decant essence of solanaceae first, for a painless anesthetic, then prepare a seven-step salve. You'll find the list on your desk. Two hours. This is practice, but it will likely be on your end-of-year testing."
Shit. Of course they were working on one of the most important potions now, when she was distracted.
On a day when everything passed as a vague blur, this lesson was just a little bit clearer, mainly because she could see Alexius glaring at her and Greer shooting her worried looks every now and then.
She should have stayed in her room. Slept it off. She'd need someone's notes anyway.
Cat butchered the healing drought, doubling the nightshade content and adding way too much crushed spider.
"That's not bad," Alexius said.
She looked up, surprised. He was holding the dark blue mixture in the air, observing it in the fading afternoon light.
"Really?"
"I mean, it would kill most creatures the moment it entered their lips, of course. But creating poisons quite that efficient is no small feat."
Cat groaned. She’d definitely have to study this one before
summer.
Cat was here for her MBA in charms and spells. She'd picked that subject because magic was her weakness. She wasn't an accomplished elemental mage, so that degree would mean a lot. To her, at least. She wasn't foolish enough to believe that it would matter to her family.
Now she second-guessed her choice. She didn't like potions at all. She hadn't enjoyed chemistry in her youth, and that was no different.
“Sorry, I'm—” thirsty. Out loud, she opted for, “distracted.”
"You can take an extra class on Saturday morning at ten o'clock. Greer is supervising."
Cat nodded. Whether she liked the class or not, she had no intention of flunking.
"In the meantime, I think I will take this one. You never know when having a poison in your sleeve will be useful."
Was Alexius teasing her about the previous night? She couldn't quite tell. He always looked like he was making fun of everyone, anyway.
"I promise I'll pay attention if you ever cover antidotes."
The vampire grimaced. "What's the fun in that?"
Some women giggled at the back of the room. Of course they did. A large percentage of Oldcrest’s female population had a crush on Alexius. The other half would probably do him anyway. Had probably done him.
Alexius was around seven hundred years old, young enough to understand this day and age, old enough to know how to use all of his bloodline’s devastating power. Cruel enough to find it fun. Cat couldn't say she knew much about him, but she’d heard the rumors. Every child of the seven had a reputation. Alexius's sin was having a completely screwed-up moral compass. Murder was his solution to most problems. When he couldn't slash a throat, he paid someone to do it for him. Even his family, renowned for doing just that for centuries, had enough of his antics. He didn't respect alliances, often went back on his word, and would have betrayed his own mother if it suited his purposes.
So they cursed him. Paid a coven to tether him to Oldcrest, where he couldn't do much harm.
Of course, regular humans, witches who hadn't been involved, and shifters had no clue about all that. They only knew him as a hot prince with a wicked smile and a vampire's appetite for depravity.
Levi held monthly parties at his place, as was expected of him. The conclave and a select few were welcome to attend. But Alexius's weekly parties were open to just about anyone with a short skirt and firm breasts.
Basically, he was a twenty-year-old frat boy in a body hotter than sin. A dangerous combination. Cat didn't blame her classmates for their infatuations. Hell, she might even have fallen for him herself if she hadn't been harder to impress.
She knew prettier men. Stronger ones. More powerful ones. While her standards weren't very high when it came to her bedmates—she liked them handsome enough to look at and skilled with their extended limbs—she'd never been fond of megalomaniacs.
The last few days had changed her opinion of him. Some. Seeing him work on Maddy had been mind-blowing, and it raised questions. Who was he? The agile, confident healer who knew everything about patching up a human, or the careless, carefree, indifferent man she'd heard about?
Cat didn't think she had the time or inclination to find out. After Anika, she vowed to stay away from anyone who struck her as untrustworthy.
Potions was her last lesson of the day. She had five hours off, and then her sentinel shift.
Earlier today, Cat had received a raven asking whether she was fit to serve, and she'd immediately sent back a yes. Now, she half regretted it. Not because of the shift itself—the distraction couldn't hurt. But because she was supposed to work with him.
Sebastian.
Fuck, why was his scent driving her so crazy? Cat rushed to her dorm and lay on her bed, eyes closed. And through her mind's eye, she saw him. His neck, his veins. Imagined herself biting it. Licking it.
She closed her eyes and breathed in and out. She could control this. She would control this.
But she’d never open her mouth to criticize anyone’s lack of restraint again.
She headed back to her room and locked herself in, concentrating on her breathing until she felt a little more in control.
An Intruder
Bash was not looking forward to another night running from the psychotic slayer. Mikar had seemed like an all-right dude until that morning, but he was clearly deranged. Or sadistic. Possibly both.
He'd stumbled into his bedroom and crashed for so long he missed his combat class. Which wasn't the worst thing, given that they no longer had a teacher.
He was in good form the next morning, his muscles having healed overnight. A definite improvement over his previous life. Back when he'd been a huntsman, he would have felt a six-hour run for days, if not weeks.
Working with Mikar again sounded like something right out of a nightmare, so he should have been relieved when he spotted the stubborn and beautiful blonde vamp at the edge of the Wolvswoods close to midnight. Instead, he rushed to her side and snapped, "What the hell are you doing here, Stormhale?"
She rolled her eyes. "My shift."
Bash narrowed his eyes. "You were poisoned just three days ago. With nightbane," he said, like she might have forgotten.
"So?" Cat seemed amused. "We're vampires. If something doesn't kill us, we sleep it off."
He knew that, but he didn't think he'd completely understood just how fast they healed, how different their bodies were, until waking up today. He had no cramps, no aches, no muscle spasms after being chased by Mikar. It made sense that she'd healed too, although poison didn't compare to a marathon.
Bash sighed. "You didn't look okay that day. You weren't just hurt. You were…anxious."
And out of control. He chose not to point that out.
Catherine glared at him, and he could guess exactly what she was thinking—that he had no business sticking his big nose into her affairs. But all she said was, "We'd better start our patrol, don't you think?"
He nodded stiffly before walking in silence by her side.
It was a comfortable sort of silence, and this time, whenever she stopped, he didn't have to ask why. He followed her gaze to watch the stars. Rabbits. Wolves.
Wait, wolves?
Catherine inclined her head in a greeting that didn't feel warm or welcoming. But it did show respect. Bash imitated her, and the three wolves watching them from the shadows glanced at each other.
The black wolf in front, taller than the others, and broader too—was clearly the alpha. A gray wolf stood at his right, considerably thinner but no smaller. To the left was a beautiful beast with reddish fur that might have been a coyote.
"The pack who live in the woods?" Bash asked.
"Yes, I think so. It's no wonder that they'd wonder what's going on, if Levi hasn't told them yet."
Bash didn't know much about these werewolves. Jack had mentioned them once or twice, saying that they were one of the oldest packs in the world. Whatever that meant. He was just surprised that they were content to live here in Oldcrest, although werewolves were territorial. Living near so many witches, vampires, and even shifters from other packs couldn't be easy.
"Maybe he should bring them up to speed," Bash mused out loud.
Cat snorted. "It's not quite that simple. I heard he invited them to the last conclave. They didn't show. Werewolves are…"
The black beast bared his teeth, growling a warning.
Now wasn't the time to insult werewolves.
Cat ignored him, finishing her point. "Proud."
Bash understood proud well enough. He'd been proud of being a huntsman. He was regularly proud of his siblings. Proud of what his family had achieved, too. Choosing to not attend a meeting where crucial information would be shared wasn't pride as much as stupidity.
Bash relaxed as they walked farther south, away from the pack. Fear wasn’t stressing him out; he could have dealt with shifters back when he'd been a hunter. But he knew how volatile they were, and how much they hated vampires.
Like basically e
very other sup. Their longevity and power didn't endear them to anyone, to say nothing of their ability to rip open throats whenever they felt like it.
The vampires stopped at the edge of the border near the east train tracks.
Someone was there. Right at the edge. Observing the wards. Studying them.
Cat took one step forward. Bash opened his mouth to caution her, but, thinking better of it, decided to stay quiet. He didn't know whether their shield stopped sounds. Instead, he grabbed her hand.
Then he froze. He didn’t expect the simple touch to feel so…noticeable.
She turned to him, eyes full of questions. Bash slowly shook his head, pulling his phone out. Shit. Did he have her number? He didn't think so.
He opened his notes app and wrote, "He doesn't seem to know exactly where we are. Let's not clue him in."
Cat didn't like it, but she acquiesced nonetheless, although she also grabbed her phone and started sending messages. To Levi, or Chloe, or any of the other vampires, Bash guessed. She wouldn't have thought to contact one person, though. So, Bash texted Jack to clue him in on the situation.
Mikar and Luke appeared next to them twenty-four seconds later. Levi and Chloe arrived shortly after, though his shirt was open and she wasn't wearing shoes. They were all silent as a tomb, eyes on the intruder.
He was rather plain. A man in his mid-thirties, perhaps, wearing a tracksuit and a sweater with the hood pulled low on his head. Because that wasn't conspicuous at all.
"A witch," Levi announced.
Oh, so they could talk.
"Don't they say wizard?" Chloe asked.
"Same difference. Witch, wizard, sorcerer, enchanter. That just means they're mortal and use magic," Cat replied.
"Right. Yeah, I knew that."
Bash didn't doubt Chloe had heard this before, but their brains were just so scattered after the change, it was hard to remember the simplest things, sometimes.
"And people who are sups for other reasons, like fangs or fur, but use magic anyway are mages?" Chloe wondered.