Traitor

by Claire Farrell

  “There’s no reason for destruction as of yet,” Eddie said.

  “I don’t know how much digging I’ll have to do,” Moses said. “We’re trying our best, but it’s risky. I’m not sure any of my contacts know how high up this goes.”

  “Use the brethni,” Eddie said. “Ava tells me they have a hive mind. If one breaks ranks, gets caught, and takes the blame to save the others, I believe they will see it as a worthwhile sacrifice.”

  “Maybe I don’t see it that way,” Moses said sharply. The brethni had helped save his community. I was glad he had their backs.

  “Ask them for suggestions,” I said. “Tell them what you need and see if they can come up with an alternative solution to the problem. It’s worth a try.”

  He nodded and dug into his pocket.

  Eddie shook his head. “Not in here. No smoke.”

  Sighing, Moses searched in his other pocket and pulled out a packet of chewing gum instead.

  “We’ve already started looking into this,” Shay said. “It’s hard to find new additions to the team, given we don’t know who’s in whose pockets, but the gang who were attacked in the church are all over this. Most of them are part of the new initiative. We’re cooperating with the Council for now, but we’ve taken this personally. We won’t stop until we root out the truth. It’s going to take more time, but we’re in a good position to find out who exactly is in control of the criminals because they’re all working together to keep people like Moses here out of jail. Even if we don’t get to the top, we’re slowly figuring out who exactly is being controlled, so when the time comes, we’ll know who can’t be trusted.”

  That was the tough part, finding all of the weeds so we would know what we needed to destroy.

  “Excellent,” Eddie said softly. “There will be sacrifices by the end, but all of the pieces will land as they should.”

  “We’re not sacrificing people,” I said.

  He waved a hand as if to say, “You women,” and I felt that urge deep in my gut again—a gnawing, biting sense of violent rage. Some days, I believed there were worse things than being a victim, but other days, I didn’t care. I wasn’t sure what I thought of the person I was suddenly becoming.

  “It’s time for the humans to leave,” Eddie said, cocking his head to the side as if he were listening to something. “They’ve stayed too long already.”

  Moses nodded at me and went outside, but Shay lingered at the door when I started to close it after them.

  “Ava, wait,” he said in a low, urgent voice. “Can I see you? I need to talk… to explain—”

  “No.” I shut the door firmly in his face.

  “Don’t make enemies of our allies,” Eddie said.

  “Personal issues can’t come into this. You taught me that.”

  He observed me steadily. “Very well. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  I widened my eyes. “When has that ever happened?”

  He grinned then, and the tension left my shoulders. I was tired of being on edge around Eddie. He couldn’t be worse than the alternative, no matter how dark and sticky the stains on his soul were.

  “None of this matters if Fionnuala allies herself with bigger powers than us,” I said.

  “You mean if the son marries into more power,” he said with a strange smile. “That could change the game, but you forget all of those remarkable children just waiting to be wielded like weapons.”

  “Eddie, I—”

  “We need power, Ava, not just small-time criminals and Garda Sergeants. Even if the Garda Sergeants do come from special places.” He smiled again, his eyes going elsewhere, and it did not make me comfortable. I hoped he didn’t have plans for Shay, too, especially since I wasn’t particularly attracted to Shay’s blood—a sure sign that his bloodline held the magical protection once freely given by gods.

  Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “You should have brought Val.”

  “Need her to protect the group.” She didn’t have to be there every night, but I didn’t want her too close to Eddie in case he got any ideas about her usefulness.

  “So be it. There will be other times. It seems the werewolves did a decent job of running the vampires out of the UK,” he said lightly. “There will be a lot of vampires looking for somewhere to go. For someone to blame.”

  “No,” I said firmly.

  “You can’t pick and choose based on your past, and it’s not your job to enforce morality. It’s not the fault of every vampire that your family was destroyed by one, and revenge won’t make you happy.”

  I took a step toward the door. “I’m going. I have stuff to do.”

  “Of course you do,” he said. “But be ready. The time to act may arrive sooner than you think. And play nice with the gardaí. We’ll need them.”

  There was no cool presence around as I stalked out of the bookshop, and for some reason, that worried me even more.

  I walked home, shoving my hands deep in my pockets to keep them warm. The sharp bite in the air spelled winter, and that usually meant the vampires came out to play for longer, but I hadn’t come across a single one since the fight against the BVA. Daimhín was still on the missing list, the vampires who’d joined the BVA’s call to arms were all either dead or in the Council’s cells, and the rest were hiding out. I shivered, telling myself it was from the cold night air rather than the idea the vampires knew something I didn’t.

  I heard footsteps behind me three streets away from the cul-de-sac. I slowed my pace, sending out my other senses. Only one. Possibly someone making their way home. Possibly someone completely innocent.

  But the red pulsing humanity behind me was cloaked with darkness, and I wasn’t about to let that follow me all the way home. I crossed the road and turned down a dark lane that served as a shortcut between two main roads.

  I gripped my dagger eagerly. Since I was no longer trying to be a good influence on Emmett, I was free to indulge in the darkness inside me. I sometimes tried to recall the guilt of using vampire-like gifts or tried to mourn the loss of life, but a switch had flipped in my brain, and death didn’t seem like a huge deal any longer. It had been almost a year since I’d killed the vampire Maximus in his sleep, a year in which I had changed from a victim to a hunter, and I wasn’t sure if I could ever go back, no matter what Mrs. Yaga’s will needed me to agree to.

  The footsteps behind me hastened as I hid into the shadows of a dank doorway. The scent of urine and vomit made the bile rise in my gut. I saw the figure hesitate under a street light, and I waited until he came closer.

  I crouched, counting his heartbeats as he approached. He was about to walk right past me, but I leapt at him, knocking him off-kilter. He automatically reached out and gripped my jacket, managing to pull me down, too.

  I straddled him, landing two punches to his jaw before he recovered and fought back wildly. Like the other human I had encountered who had been shrouded with the shadows, he was unusually strong, and a well-timed strike to my torso gave him the opening he needed to get the better of me.

  I let him roll me over and wrap his hands around my neck. His mouth widened into a bloody grin. I still had my dagger, and I was about to stab him in the gut when I managed to get a good look at him.

  He was young, late teens at most. His eyes were hazel, and in my mind’s eye, I saw Emmett being strangled by a force he couldn’t control. I couldn’t kill the boy for it, despite how hard hearted I had become.

  I let the knife slip out of my fingers and reached up to touch his feverish skin with my bare hands. I held his cheeks. His eyes narrowed with confusion, and his fingers tightened. I struggled to take a breath, but I stayed calm and prepared to let the light inside me suck the shadow away.

  He convulsed, his entire body shaking, but his rough grip still held, and my hands weakened. I used the last of my strength to jerk my head upward and rammed my forehead into his face. He let go as blood spurted from his nose. I grunted from the wrenching pain in my side, but I held on, de
termined.

  I threw him onto his back as the shadows swirled under my skin. I heard them whisper and moan for me to join the darkness inside, but I closed my eyes and let the light burn them away. My skin was on fire, my head spinning with uncontrollable urges, and when it was over and all of the shadows had been destroyed, I collapsed beside the unconscious boy, panting hard.

  I dried my face with my sleeves and discovered my eyes, ears, and nose had bled profusely. Mrs. Yaga’s warnings about paying the price came back to me, so I distracted myself by checking on the young man next to me.

  His chest rose and fell steadily, and I let out a sigh of relief. He would survive with only a few bruises to show for it. And possibly a broken nose, I added as I watched blood trickle from his nostrils.

  My stomach rumbled, and my fangs shot out so fast they sliced my lower lip. I licked my bloody mouth. I pressed my thumb against the slick, fresh blood on the man’s chin, feeling a little lightheaded at the sight of the crimson life-force on my fingertip. The bloodlust was so unexpected that my hand was halfway to my mouth before I realised it. I hesitated, staring. It was such a waste, and yet, if I had a taste, did I really trust myself not to go further?

  Ever since I had used Gabe’s light as a weapon, I had been different. Maybe my body needed blood, but I wasn’t healing, and pain had become far more intense. I was weak, too human when I needed to be more.

  That was my excuse as I sucked the blood from my thumb, feeling a high like no other. A rabid sense of desire flooded my body.

  I leaned over him, sniffing and hesitating, longing to satisfy my craving. I argued with myself, but the taste in my mouth shouted louder than any sense I had. I licked his chin, and a million memories rushed through my head: Wesley, Becca, Carl, Peter. All of the blood. All of the vital life. The power afterward, the feeling of invincibility. The cause could use that strength. The uprising would need fierce warriors. I could just…

  A moan startled me. The young man’s eyes flickered open, and I stepped back, my cheeks flooding with shame. What was I doing?

  I called for an ambulance, pretending I had found him and that he had been mugged. That would explain why he wasn’t wearing a jacket in winter and why he had no identification. My story didn’t cover my own wounds, so I snuck away when the ambulance arrived.

  I ran home, ignoring the pain in my side and the new lust for blood rushing through my body. I slipped into the cul-de-sac unnoticed. Most of the lights were out in the houses. I prayed Carl wasn’t in my home waiting for me, and my prayers were answered.

  I showered in a desperate attempt to feel clean, but I shook all night, unable to sleep.

  All because of a drop of blood.

  Chapter Three

  Over the last month, Carl and I had developed a routine of mindless entertainment as a way of avoidance. Video games and films a couple of evenings a week had turned out to be reasonable avenues. For two hours or so, we didn’t have to think about wars or lost loved ones. We didn’t have to talk. We didn’t have to be alone.

  A few nights after the incident with the shadow guy, I was still jumpy from the blood cravings. I couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t let them know I was like a junkie craving a fix. The thirst had subsided, but I kept holding my breath in case Carl smelled particularly yummy. I relaxed enough to get into the film and was pretending Emilio Estevez and The Breakfast Club hadn’t just made me cry when Carl pressed Pause and blew out a heaving sigh.

  I looked over at him. “What’s up?”

  “Feeling restless. All of this waiting is…” He shook his head. “We’re always on the verge of something. It’s hard to relax.”

  “Same for everyone.”

  “Except you get to go out and do things. It’s just… ever think on what our lives would be like if we had never met?” he asked.

  “All the time,” I admitted. “I’d be back in my grotty little flat, not having a clue that a succubus was stealing my energy.” I hesitated, ready to lie. “My thirst would be out of control, but I wouldn’t have to deal with anything other than deciding what to eat for dinner or hoping I could make the rent for another month.”

  “And I’d still be working for Maria’s father, wondering if there was anything better out there.” He stared at me, but I couldn’t read his expression. “Despite the moaning, the worst days here are better than the best days before. I don’t regret a thing. I thought I would. I thought I would feel bitter about it all, but it feels right. All of this means something.”

  “Until you die for it,” I said. Or get bitten by your hungry best friend. “Then it means nothing at all.”

  “You need to talk about him,” he said softly, mistaking the bitterness of my tone. “Talk to him instead of avoiding his calls. You can’t keep blocking what you’re feeling forever.”

  I was about to protest when a scream rang out in the night. The sound echoed so loudly I wasn’t entirely sure if it was one voice or many.

  “Warning signal.” His voice rose with excitement. “Number five’s on watch.”

  “Let’s check it out.”

  Carl made it outside first, grabbing a weapon on his way. I couldn’t remember when keeping a weapon stash by my front door had begun to seem normal, but it was definitely convenient.

  As I ran outside, an arrow whipped through the air, quickly followed by a low curse, and I knew that Ry was already at his post. We had plans of attack and defence, strategies we had practised as a group. So I wasn’t as worried as I had once been.

  After the warning scream, a chilling silence reigned. My eyes adjusted in the dark, but my other senses were faster at picking out life forces. I found an extra six of those.

  Val rushed out of Anka’s home, a mace in her hand. Her shoulders expanded, causing her shadow to look like the worst kind of monster. “Leah says assassins,” she hissed at us. “Hybrids of some kind. Imbued with fae magic again. Not a problem.”

  “I agree,” I whispered. “They know we’re aware, so let’s take them on. I think Ry grazed one with an arrow. I can smell his blood.” Thankfully, it didn’t smell enticing. “Okay, there are two at the mouth of the cul-de-sac. Two more pairs are moving slowly behind the gardens on each side of the road. Val, you go behind Anka’s house and find the pair moving that way; I’ll take the other side of the road. Carl, get Lorcan and Esther on the street. The three of you need to make sure the ones up front don’t try to help. Ry and the others will be watching from their windows. Make sure you stay in range so they can help you.”

  “Do we question them?” Carl asked.

  I glared at the darkness as if it were to blame. “No. Not this time. No escape. No mercy. Not when they sneak up on us in the night.”

  I expected him to protest, but he only nodded. We separated and slipped into the shadows. I let myself into the first back garden and made my way down, reaching out with my other senses to ensure I didn’t get backed into a corner.

  I moved through the small, grass-covered yards faster than the assassins, meeting them halfway. Hearing their approach, I waited, half-hidden by Margie’s stunted apple tree. The pair climbed noisily over a wall to my left, jumping right into the patches of herbs the woman doted over. I lingered in the shadows, waiting for my chance. I counted heartbeats, my palms sweating.

  One gave an impatient grunt. “Is this far enough?” he asked too loudly.

  The other nodded, his eyes narrowing as he glanced in my direction. I side-stepped quickly and slit the throat of the noisy one before the second could react.

  The remaining assassin attacked, and I realised too late that he was the one I should have killed first. He didn’t make a sound as he stepped over the body. I feinted left to right, but he adjusted his moves in a split second.

  His fists caught me again and again. I attempted to put some space between us. He crowded me, never slowing, boxing as though he had been training his entire life. I ducked and kicked out, but he jumped over my foot as if he expected the move. He grabbed my hair
and yanked hard, using my weight against me. I fell heavily on my side, and pain seared throughout my body.

  Ignoring the agony, I scrambled to my feet only to meet his fist with my face. Gritting my teeth, I threw caution to the wind and fell on him, meeting his strikes as best I could until he reached for a weapon. The metal of a blade glinted under the light of the moon.

  My side screamed with pain until my sight blurred, but I blocked the assassin’s attacks, barely keeping out of the way of the curved edge of his weapon. He wasn’t as experienced as the ones we had fought before, but he was fuelled with a mad rage that I couldn’t seem to defeat. I was beginning to regret not drinking my fill of blood.

  He spun with perfect balance, confusing me until his elbow landed directly against my wound, closely followed by his dagger aimed at my throat. I swallowed a shriek and stumbled out of the arc of his slicing assault, barely avoiding death by his hand. I fought blindly, pain causing my head to feel as if it would spin off my shoulders, but nothing I threw at him slowed his attack. He forced me against the back wall of the house, his blade at my throat, pinning me in place. He hissed in a language I didn’t know. I cut my fingers trying to wrestle the blade away, but I felt the burn of the sharp edge sear through the delicate skin of my throat.

  Suddenly, his body stiffened, and the knife fell from his hand. His eyes widened as he gurgled, blood seeping from the corners of his lips. He collapsed, revealing a knife wedged in the back of his neck.

  I sank to the ground in relief and gazed up at Desmond as I pressed the back of my hand against the shallow wound on my throat. A friend of Ry, Desmond was an old exiled fae from a low-ranking bloodline. He had lost the source of his family’s power, along with his fortune, when the rest of his people were murdered. I didn’t like him, but I owed him for saving my life.

  As usual, he wasn’t alone. Gareth, a small chubby man, never left his side, and I wasn’t sure if they were lovers or if Desmond still had an actual servant.