by Tanith Frost
“They won’t let us hire them,” I say, looking at Ivan but addressing all of them—Chester, Crawley, Miranda, Jia and the quintet of Agonites who represent the only other team to thus far clear an entire city of zombies, Clark, Eoin, and Daniel. “They don’t want our money. They want… well, everything we took from them.”
“Mercenaries with a personal vendetta against us, no less,” Eoin mutters.
“Then what do you propose?” Miranda asks her, sounding curious but with a note of genuine irritation in her voice that I haven’t often heard. “What do we stand to lose by inviting Irene in and negotiating?”
Eoin doesn’t answer, but Clark does. “They’ll demand complete freedom,” he says. “And what then? We’re no better off than we were before the sanctuary. At least our current terms give us some control over where they roam and allow us to step in if they fuck up.”
“And there’s our reputation to consider,” Ivan adds. “If another clan learned we needed to rely on werewolves to defeat our enemies, we’d be more of a laughingstock than we already are.”
Miranda aims a cool glare at him.
“With respect, Ivan,” Daniel says in a tone that conveys the exact opposite, “if this plan worked, it would prove that Miranda was right to preserve the werewolves. We’d be the ones laughing at everyone else.”
Ivan slams his fist against the counter. “Vampires don’t need help. We are apex predators. The top of the food chain. We tolerate no competition. We show no mercy to enemies, and it’s only by choice that we hold back from openly ruling this world.”
A chill runs up my spine. Ivan’s an asshole and obviously isn’t afraid to oppose Miranda, but I’m certain that he’s a loyal member of Maelstrom… yet he sounds so much like Lachlan. These ideas and desires are everywhere, not just among our enemies. They’re in this clan. This room. Even, if I’m not careful to oppose them, in myself.
“Indeed,” Miranda says. “No mercy to enemies. Lachlan has proved that he won’t hesitate to use whatever means are at his disposal to conquer this land. Why should we do any less to take it back?”
“You can’t be considering a compromise with the werewolves,” Crawley says.
Miranda smiles grimly. “You all seem pleased with my willingness to compromise when you’re the ones benefitting.”
No one has any response to that.
“As I see it, we have little choice,” Miranda says, pushing away from the wall and taking a step closer to the rest of us—all the space afforded in this small room. “We have lost the city. If we can’t take it back, Maelstrom is as good as finished. In the matter of the zombies, it’s our word against Lachlan’s, assuming he survives.”
She looks to me, and I nod. “There’s a chance he didn’t make it out, but we’d be safer to assume that all I did was slow him down.”
“Safer, indeed.” Miranda returns her attention to the others. “Lachlan claims to be taking land that should belong to Tempest because he’ll manage it better than we have. So far, no one seems willing to stand against him. He will eliminate our population, hunting us down one by one if necessary, and replace us with members of his own clan.” Her eyes are as hard and sharp as shards of glass. “Tempest has numbers on their side. What we have, at least until they all build up a tolerance, is a power that may level the playing field. We know the city, the buildings, and the Inferno’s underground passages in ways they don’t. Our greatest obstacle is getting in and freeing the other members of our clan. With our enemies weakened, we may just have a shot.”
Crawley rubs the back of his neck. “Perhaps if we can’t stand on our own, we deserve to fall.”
I tug the sleeves of Genevieve’s sweater lower over my hands, gripping the soft wool tight in my fists. “You mean if we’re too stupid to use the weapons we have waiting right outside? Then yes, we probably deserve whatever we get. But that’s not the choice I’m making tonight.” I look to Miranda, who nods.
“I would like the council’s agreement on this,” she says. “No other clan is willing to step in to help us. We know exposure to werewolves will weaken our enemies if we strike soon and strike hard. If anyone sees another way, speak now.” She meets each vampire’s gaze in turn. “Good. All in favour of negotiating with the werewolves for their assistance?”
Daniel raises his hand slowly. Eoin sighs, blowing her red hair out of her face, and raises hers to shoulder height. Edwin whispers something to Jia, and they both raise their hands—the other Agonites follow. Soon everyone but Crawley, Clark, and Ivan have their hands—or at least a reluctant finger—raised.
Miranda looks to me, her lips curving slightly in amusement. I’ve been so intent on watching everyone else that I haven’t cast my vote. My right hand shoots up to shoulder height.
“Good enough,” Miranda says. “But you mentioned that this is not the only weapon you’ve brought us tonight?”
Daniel crosses toward her. Clark, who’s been standing beside her like a loyal guard dog, stiffens slightly, but allows Daniel to speak quietly to her.
“Granted,” Miranda says. Daniel leaves the trailer, letting in a cool gust of air, and Miranda moves farther away from the door. “We are to receive guests,” she says. “Whatever happens, they are to remain unharmed.” She looks to me and raises one eyebrow. “They have been promised that much by one authorized to do so.”
Daniel returns with Odette and Imogen, both of whom step cautiously into the trailer and stand next to the door, obviously ready to bolt if the need arises. The whites of Imogen’s eyes are showing as she looks over this crowd of unfamiliar monsters, but there’s a determined set to her jaw that gives me hope. Odette is revealing nothing. They both look to me.
“Magic,” I say quietly. There’s no need to speak louder. Everyone is listening. “A power from another world but constantly present on this island in varying concentrations—greater if a rift to that world appears, lesser if not.”
Chester groans softly though others look confused. “Is this about the dragon?”
“No.” I pause. “He decided not to come tonight. He’s not exactly a fan of vampires after what he went through at the hands of members of your department.” And that’s true. Taggryn is still at the hotel, probably smothering himself in hot water and sweet-smelling soaps at this very moment and consuming every pricey bit of food on offer. “But he’ll help if his safety is guaranteed.”
Odette takes half a step forward. “My niece and I have skills that may be useful to you. Most important among these is that we can open rifts. Not just anywhere, but there are weak places in the veil between worlds that can be torn open, given sufficient skill and power.”
Miranda’s midnight eyes shine. “And you believe this power—this magic—would weaken our enemies as others do?”
“It seems worth trying, given the effect Aviva says Erimentha had on them. Even if not, we may offer protections for members of this clan.”
“Protections like those you offered to our enemy Helena Slade?” Miranda asks.
Ivan jumps to his feet, but a glance from Miranda holds him back.
Odette’s nostrils flare slightly. “I wouldn’t offer anything so permanent, but my services would be just as valuable on a temporary basis. I helped your enemy for profit. I would help you for the same reason—and for a guarantee of our safety. I’ve found that it’s easy to make powerful enemies. It’s time I found some equally powerful allies.”
“A dragon?” Jia asks quietly. “As in… a dragon?”
“He came through a rift like the one we’re sitting next to,” Chester tells her. “There’s no telling what else could come through if we let them open another. If we believe releasing the werewolves is a threat to supernatural secrecy, I’m not sure what the word for this is.”
“It’s a risk,” I tell him, then look to Miranda. “But it’s one that could win this for us if we use it well and soon.”
“No,” Crawley says, and stands. “Miranda. We’ve had our differences of opinio
n many times. I’ve criticized the risks you’ve taken, but I’ve done so for the sake of preserving secrecy. And why have I thought it worth provoking someone as powerful as you?”
Because you’re a flaming asshole. I keep my mouth shut.
He answers the question for himself. “Because revealing ourselves to the human world is the greatest threat imaginable to our clan. Not because of the humans themselves, but because we would face the wrath of every vampire clan that has sworn the same oath as we have.”
“Granted,” Miranda says.
“Then I beg you to hear reason in this if in nothing else.” Crawley speaks calmly but urgently, and for a second, I see it. He is a flaming asshole. He does see things differently. But he’s not the enemy. Not Miranda’s, anyway, even if I still think he’s mine. We see things differently, but our goal—protecting Maelstrom—is the same. “The werewolves may be a risk worth taking, assuming they understand that they have much to lose if they reveal themselves. I still say it’s foolish and probably not worth the damage control that will be needed after, but if Aviva is right in her theory… well, I suppose that’s your decision. But opening a door to another world? Dragons?” He looks to Odette. “Tell me, what else might wander through?”
Odette looks to Imogen, who shrugs. “We’ve agreed not to speak of it here,” Odette says. “Other worlds have their secrets just like the supernatural plane does in this one. But I suppose it would be fine to tell you that there are other monsters there. Strange creatures. And humans.”
“The ultimate threat,” Miranda sighs.
Even without her abilities, it’s not hard to tell what she’s thinking as she presses her fingertips to her lips and looks again at the scraps of her clan present here tonight. They’ve bent already. Pushing harder, especially in asking them to embrace something as unfamiliar and dangerous as magic, could break them.
She closes her eyes for a moment. “I thank you for your offer,” she says as she opens them. “Can you guarantee that we’d be in no additional danger from rifts if you created them?”
Odette and Imogen exchange a glance before Imogen answers. “There are no guarantees. But without access to a rift, there’s only so much we can do for you. Minor restorative magic on my part, old and ill-matched symbols from Odette as protection… we need fresh magic to do anything really impressive.”
Miranda shakes her head. “We have fire. For now, it will have to be enough—magic may be helpful, but the risks it brings with it are too great. Would you consent to being our back-up plan, remaining close but out of harm’s way as we enter the city?”
I lean back against the wall and let my aching muscles relax. The rest of the conversation fades.
I shouldn’t have expected more than this. A vote for negotiating with the werewolves is an unthinkably huge step for most of these vampires, and maybe they’ll be enough. Even without magic, we have a chance.
But I didn’t want a chance. I wanted a miracle.
There is still another option, of course, if I think we need more than one power on our side. Every muscle in my body tenses, prepared to flee as I remember the sharp hunger in Gideon’s green eyes.
We can do this without him. Fire now, magic in reserve… it will be enough, especially if the council manages to get their heads out of their asses. I won’t forget Gideon’s offer, but I also won’t mention it to Miranda yet.
The sound of the door opening and a cold breeze on my face pull me back out of my thoughts. Odette and Imogen are leaving with Daniel following protectively behind them. Everyone else is gathering their coats.
“Good, then,” Miranda says. “Aviva will bring Irene in, and we will speak. When the rest of you return, I want ideas. Strategies that will use these allies and their power to our greatest advantage. I want scenarios, options, obstacles, whatever you’ve got.”
The others file out, and Miranda approaches. Her eyes are shards of flint, sharp and piercing. “Come on, then,” she says, and lays a hand on my arm. Her fingers trace the knitted wool, and her jaw sets in a firm line as she ushers me toward the door.
“Bring me our weapon. It’s time to show Lachlan exactly what kind of a mistake he’s made.”
22
Vampires. Werewolves. We look like a pair of gangs about to rumble—or in a more perfect and musical world, stage an intimidating dance-off.
God, this world sucks.
The wind is blowing hard and cold, and I’m standing huddled as close to the shelter of the trailer as I can get without it seeming as if I’m eavesdropping. Irene and Miranda have been alone in there for nearly three-quarters of an hour as best I can guess. No raised voices, no sounds of violence. They’re mature enough to set their mutual, instinctive dislike aside in order to save the clan and pack they’re responsible for.
As for the rest of us… well, the werewolves are outside of their van now, standing in a group, watching the larger group of similarly huddled vampires. No one’s vehicle was large enough to fit every clan member inside, so they’re speaking in hushed voices out here. Their focus is on plans and potential roads to success or failure, but that doesn’t keep any of them from shooting occasional, suspicious glances at our supposed allies.
It doesn’t help that one of the werewolves has shifted into wolf form and is pacing protectively between the vampires and his pack members.
I have not been invited to the vampires’ planning session. I guess they’d probably like to have Daniel join them, but he’s been with me since he finished securing the humans in Padma’s car, and no one has come close enough to speak to either of us.
“How does it feel to be on the outside?” I ask.
He lets out a laugh—just a puff of air, really, and shakes his head. “Feels weird. Fuck ’em, though. If they want me, they can come get both of us.”
He’s standing closer to them than I am, though, and I know he’s listening in. He doesn’t like to miss anything. I should be doing the same, but I’m too busy watching the werewolves.
Violet approaches, skirting close to the trailer to keep away from the vampires standing farther afield. She gives Daniel a dark, suspicious look, but doesn’t hesitate to stand close to him to speak to me. “You all planning how to send us in to do your dirty work for you?”
“That would be foolish, wouldn’t it?” Daniel turns back to the vampires even as he speaks to her. “We need you for your power, not as cannon fodder. You’re no good to us dead.”
Violet grits her teeth. “And that’s all it is, isn’t it? Not one of you would mind if we all died in the end as long as you got what you wanted first.”
Daniel doesn’t answer.
“Soulless bastards,” Violet mutters. “Guess that means Irene’s not going to negotiate us into a formal apology, then.”
Daniel looks her over carefully. “Is that what you want?”
“It wouldn’t hurt. Most of you vampires are a lot of nothing—no hearts, no souls. Sin, though, you seem to manage just fine. Hate, greed, selfishness, cruelty, lust… but pride is the big one, isn’t it?” She steps a little closer. “Maybe you’ll set us free if it gets you what you want, but you’ll never admit you were wrong all along or that we’re as important to this world as you are. Every one of you is—” She cuts herself off. “Doesn’t matter. As long as we get the fuck away from all of you, I’ll be happy.”
Daniel shoves his hands in the pockets of the coat he borrowed from Ryder’s over-stocked closet. “I’m sure the feeling is mutual for most of us.”
I’m about to kick him in the shin for being rude, but Violet actually cracks a hint of a wry smile and looks to me. “Still think this was a good idea?”
“No. But it’s all we’ve got.”
The trailer’s door opens a crack, and Clark hurries over to it. I can’t see Miranda, but she’s obviously passing along news he doesn’t like—he’s doing a poor job masking the angry twist of his lips. But he nods and stalks toward us, jaw set and shoulders hunched against the wind.
Daniel leaves us without a word, heading toward the vampires. The group absorbs him without hesitation.
Not a true outsider. That’s for the best, though. This clan needs him on the inside if things are going to get better.
Better being a relative term, I guess. He’s got a long way to go.
Violet and I enter the trailer and stomp the snow off our boots. Miranda closes the door behind us. No Clark. Bet that stings.
“Are we settled?” Violet asks, moving quickly to stand beside Irene, who’s seated in one of the two chairs at the table.
“I believe so.” Irene looks tired, but her eyes shine. “It’s not going to be easy, Vi, but it’ll be worth it. We’re so close to all of this being over.”
“Assuming we’re victorious,” Miranda says as she collects a pair of mugs from the table. Cautious words, but she sounds calm.
I hang back, unsure of my purpose here. “What’s next?”
“Timing.” Miranda sets the mugs in the sink. “You said we’re vastly outnumbered. We could wait for the rest of our teams to return. We’ve been in touch with all of them, and there’s no sign so far that Lachlan is going after them.”
“He’s focused on holding the city for now.” I frown as I think it over. “What are we talking? Hours? A few nights before they’re done?”
“It will vary.”
Irene leans forward, one elbow resting on the table. “The problem is that waiting only increases the odds of them becoming acclimated to the energies here, correct?”
“Right. We don’t know how long it takes.” I want to sit down and rest, but I don’t want to look lazy. I settle for resting half of my ass on the arm of the sofa. “And we know that Lachlan has werewolves. Even if he’s keeping that advantage hidden from everyone else, they’re experiencing what we always do here, so—”
“So we may lose our advantage more quickly than we’d like,” Miranda says, finishing my thought for me. She drums her fingers against the countertop.