Until the Archons brought them back.
“Witches,” Kerik said in a voice full of disgust. “I’d hoped when Sion was here last time and said they might be a problem that they wouldn’t decide to come into this.”
Vasilije nodded, noticing the red tint beginning to cover his eyes. “Yeah, well it’s for certain now. At least the European coven is on the Archons’ side. And you can bet they’ll be out in force with spells that make many of our powers worthless. That’s why we need you five. You’re the last of the dragons left on earth, and if the witches and Archons have their way, you’ll be wiped out, one less supernatural group to deal with.”
“Not if I have anything to say about that. My brothers and I don’t intend to fade into history just because some nasty bitches think it’s their time,” Kerik said through gritted teeth. “So what do you need from us?”
Vasilije inhaled deeply and looked at each brother. “We need to know you’ll not only be there when the war comes but you’ll have our backs. The Sons and the Order of Macaria can pledge to you the support of our world if you are willing to pledge that when the fight happens, you’ll be on the front lines.”
The room fell silent as he finished his sentence. He knew what he was asking. As the last five dragon shifters on earth, they risked extinction by fighting with vampires in this war. They’d lived quietly in the east, intentionally avoiding the problems of humans and supernaturals for many years, and now he was asking them to give all that up to join their fight against the Archons.
Each brother nodded as Kerik silently asked for their answer, and then he turned toward Vasilije to give his own. “We’re behind you. The world your enemies want to create won’t be one that allows us to live in peace, so we have no choice but to go to war with you.”
“Good. Now that we’ve gotten that business out of the way, I have an errand I have to run.”
Kerik stopped Vasilije as he moved to leave. “So soon? We haven’t even shared a drink to seal our agreement, and there is the matter of that dinner I promised you. I’d hate to see you leave before we got to enjoy ourselves. From what I see, you need it, my friend.”
Vasilije didn’t want to offend the Sons’ most important ally, and Kerik wasn’t wrong about him needing some fun in his life. Dante could handle Saint for the time being, and he had told the clyten he’d follow in a few nights.
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I say no?”
Maybe some good food and drink with the dragons and later some time with a local girl was just what he needed. Maybe a few local girls.
Twelve
Saint lowered himself to the ground, drunk and too tired to look for that fuck Verrater anymore or avoid Dante either. He’d been so exhausted for so long he couldn’t imagine not feeling that way. Every night he awoke wishing that night would be different, and every night it was the same thing.
Guilt pressing down on him like a two-ton weight. So much anger he felt like it would smother him at any moment. Sadness like he’d never felt before as he watched his marriage slowly come apart. All of them fought one another for the chance to be the one to finally end him.
And there he was in Corsica and still he couldn’t do what needed to be done. So instead of offing that motherfucker Verrater like he should to avenge what the bastard had done to his wife, Saint sat alone in a park trying to drink away his sorrows and incompetence.
Dante had arrived just in time to see him give in to the hopelessness that had lurked inside him for months, but being babysat by the California kid only made things worse. If his fellow Sons were really worried about him actually doing something that would harm himself, they would have sent someone who could stop him, not the clyten.
Even they didn’t believe in him. Even his brothers in this fight didn’t believe he’d be able to get to the Archon and kill him.
“Saint, maybe you should give me the bottle, dude. You’re already so fucked up you’re on the ground, so I don’t think any more of that stuff is going to help.”
Dante reached for the bottle, but Saint clutched it close to his chest, as if it were a precious gift or something he loved. “No. Just go away. I don’t need you babysitting me. Go back and tell them all that I’m fine.”
Saint looked up and saw the look of disbelief on Dante’s face. Fuck him. What did he care what he thought anyway?
“Dude, you’re anything but fine. I get it. You want to kill the fucker, but now’s not the time. You’ll get the chance, and when you do, I hope you and Solenne punish the son of a bitch in a way that’s more painful than anything he can ever imagine. But now I need you to at least tell me you aren’t going to try.”
Swiveling his head left and right, Saint studied the position he was in and wondered how the youngest Son thought he was going to try anything. He’d stayed in this spot for hours, too drunk to move. Even the feeling of the sun about to come up didn’t make him want to move.
Maybe death would be a good thing. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of not being able to protect his wife when she needed him most.
“I couldn’t fucking try anything if I wanted to. Go home, Dante.”
And then out of the corner of his eye he saw another babysitter he didn’t want to deal with. Vasilije. He stood over him staring down with those piercing blue eyes full of his indictment of what Saint had become.
“Oh, fuck me. I thought it was bad enough that you all only sent the kid, but now they send you? I must be in trouble if they send the Romanian,” he slurred, bursting into laughter as his words trailed off.
Dante shook his head and turned to look at Vasilije. “He’s been like this since I got here two nights ago. I swear he drinks more than anyone else I’ve ever met, vampire or human.”
“I’m an Irishman,” Saint said far more loudly than he’d intended. “We’re drinkers. I come from a long line of fine Irish people who drink to forget how fucking bad their lives are. An entire island of people who lived on potatoes until they turned on us. You’d fucking drink too.”
“Come on, Saint,” Vasilije said as he grabbed his arm. “Time to go find some place to sleep off that booze and avoid the sunlight.”
“Go away, Vasilije. Don’t you have anything better to do than save me? Where’s Sasa? Oh, that’s right. She’s not yours anymore.”
Saint heard Dante gasp and knew he’d stepped over the line, but fuck him and the Romanian. He didn’t care anymore.
“Dante, you can go back to Nico and tell him I’m here now. And tell him the dragons are solidly on our side. Terek will have all the details when he returns from the east, but hearing the dragon brothers are ready to go should make Nico a little happier.”
“What about Irish McDrunky here?” Dante asked as Saint worked to stand up. Jesus, he needed to get the hell away from them and be alone again in his misery.
“I got him. If he was sober, I might have a hard time taking him, but like this he’ll be easy. Tell Solenne I’ll keep him out of trouble and have him back soon.”
Dante said something that passed for kind words of support and disappeared, leaving Saint and Vasilije alone. His buzz sadly fading, Saint got to his feet and shot a glare at the Romanian.
“I don’t need you here.”
“Your wife seems to think otherwise. Come with me now and let’s get out of the way of the sun before it gets both of us. We can go up to the mountains along the GR 20. If you’re good, I might even let you have a few hikers.”
Saint knew he could fight him, but what was the point? He wasn’t going to leave him alone, and at least while the sun was up, neither one of them could go anywhere near the Archons, even though that would be the perfect time to do just that.
No, he had no choice. For the next day, he’d have to go to the mountains with Vasilije. The only saving grace of all this was Vasilije had never been much of a talker. At least there was that.
*
Saint and Vasilije settled in toward the back of a shallow cave in a v
alley, safe from the daytime sun and its effects. Barely drunk now, Saint wished for nothing more than a good day’s sleep. No talking. No explaining why he thought he could finally kill Verrater.
As the Romanian started a fire, unfortunately he didn’t have the same plan, and Saint quickly realized he wanted to talk.
“Solenne is worried about you, Saint. She says you’re not handling things well.”
When Vasilije said things in that regal tone he often used, he wanted to pound the fuck out of his face until there was nothing left but a deflated head. Looking over at him in the dim light, Saint could barely contain his rage. “My handling things is none of your fucking business. Keep your royal nose out of my life. Don’t you have enough to deal with in your own life?”
“We’re not here because of my problems. I know how to handle myself. You seem to have forgotten how to take care of your problems, however.”
Fuck! Why couldn’t they have sent Sion? There was a vampire who understood the beauty of silence. And keeping to himself.
“My wife and I will be fine. Now shut up about it.”
Vasilije said nothing for a long time, and then just when Saint thought he’d fallen asleep, he said in that irritating tone again, “Your wife and you are anything but fine, and until you see that truth, you will never be okay again.”
Saint’s blood felt like it was boiling inside him. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? “I swear, Vasilije, you don’t want to push me on this. My buzz is gone and I’ll easily kick your ass for the million reasons I have to hate you that I’ve pushed to the back of my mind for nearly a century.”
Stretching his long legs out in front of him, he shrugged and shook his head. “Why must everything be violence with you? You’re like Dante—young and so willing to fight when there are far better ways to handle yourself.”
“Fuck off.”
And still he kept talking.
“You must come to some resolution about what happened, and charging into Archon headquarters half-cocked and getting yourself killed isn’t the way to do it, Saint. He will pay, when the time comes, but now isn’t that time.”
Saint leaned forward and saw Vasilije’s face with its calm expression, which only made him want to beat the fuck out of him more. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my business? We may both be Sons, but that’s as far as our relationship goes. You and I aren’t friends, so I don’t give a damn what you think.”
“What I think is that you have a wonderful woman who loves you, and you can’t see past your anger to understand what you’re doing to her.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me about love. Don’t. You have no idea what real fucking love is, so just stop.”
Vasilije’s vivid blue eyes flashed an emotion Saint couldn’t place. Was it rage? Hurt? Whatever it was, it disappeared as fast as it came, and he coolly ran his hand through his jet black hair in a way meant to indicate how relaxed he was.
“I’ve been around since the 1500s, for fuck’s sake. Don’t you think in all that time I’ve experienced love? I know love, and you’re going to lose Solenne’s if you don’t stop acting like you were the one he raped.”
Saint stood and stepped toward the Romanian, his hands clenched into tight fists. “Don’t say that.”
Vasilije looked up at him and raised his dark eyebrows. “Say what? What part of what I said isn’t true?”
“If I stake you right here, the only ones who would miss you are Nico and Terek, you know that, Mr. I’ve Known Love? No one else would miss you. After being around for nearly five hundred years, there is no one to prove that you’ve ever been loved.”
The smug look in his eyes faded enough for Saint to see he’d hit a nerve, so he backed up, prepared to let Vasilije’s comment slide if they just fell asleep. But the Romanian wasn’t about to let it go.
“Don’t you ever get sick of acting like you’re the only one who’s ever known pain, Declan? From the fucking moment you were turned, all you’ve done is whine about how much pain you’ve had to suffer. And trust me, I was there, so I know. First it was because of Teagan. Then it was because the woman you loved couldn’t be with you. Then it was because you didn’t want to be a Son. And now it’s because Verrater raped Solenne. For fuck’s sake, don’t you get tired of all the moping and whining you do?”
Saint didn’t want to hear another word come from his fucking mouth and lunged at him, landing a punch square on his jaw and sending his head slamming into the cave wall behind him. Vasilije quickly fought back, surprising Saint with how powerful he truly was. After all those years of living the life of a perfect hedonist, he still had the ability to fight, amazingly enough. Saint got in a few more hits before the two of them realized there was no point to physically trying to best one another. It wasn’t going to happen.
Bloody and exhausted, Saint put up his hands and quietly admitted the truth. “Unless one of us plans on staking the other, this is a waste of time.”
“I could have told you that before you even hit me the first time,” Vasilije said in his usual snide tone as he wiped the blood from his mouth.
“You’re strangely in shape for someone who does little more than indulge in whatever’s within arm’s reach.”
The Romanian flashed him a devilish smile. “I’m a vampire, Saint. Drinking, eating, and fucking aren’t things that slow us down. You’d know that if you let yourself enjoy the gifts all around you once in a while.”
Saint sat back down on the dirt and hung his head. “If only I could be like you, Vasilije. Nothing bothers you. You lose your home and you show no sadness at all. You lose vampires and all I saw was anger. You lose Sasa. You show not a hint of even being affected.”
He heard nothing in response for a long time until Vasilije quietly said, “You haven’t lost Solenne. And when the time comes, you’ll avenge what happened to her. I’ll never have the chance to do that.”
For the first time since Sasa’s betrayal, Saint heard true sadness in Vasilije’s voice. Was it possible he actually had loved her?
“What is there to avenge? You released her, Vasilije. You’ve taken away the most important bond between you. There’s your revenge.”
“I don’t want revenge on Sasa. Whether you believe it or not, I loved her. Love her still.”
“Then what?” Saint asked, unsure what kind of revenge Vasilije could want.
“Do you have any idea what it feels like to have to stand by and see everyone treat Thane like a martyr? As if he didn’t betray the very thing it means to be a Son of Navarus when he took Sasa from me. I’m forced to be around all of you who bemoan his loss, and all I can do is stand there with all the rage inside me burning me up because I want to scream at the top of my lungs how much he doesn’t deserve your mourning and sadness.”
Saint had never seen Vasilije so emotional before, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. The Romanian’s blue eyes flashed hurt he’d never expected existed inside him.
“It’s just that the loss of any of the Sons is a huge loss,” he said, trying to say something to ease his pain.
“He betrayed all of us when he betrayed me. He took what was dearest to my heart and then went and got himself staked so I’ll never have the chance to force him to face his betrayal. I never wanted him dead. I wanted him alive so he had to face me and admit what he was.”
Vasilije hung his head and continued. “I hate him. I spend night after night hating him so much it’s eating me up inside. It takes every ounce of energy I possess to pretend I’m the same as before, but I can barely keep the rage inside.”
“You can still have Sasa back. She never wanted to be sent away.”
He shook his head and grimaced like he was in pain. “I can’t even look at her. That’s why I released her. It wasn’t to punish her. I just can’t take the agony of seeing her. Her betrayal is right there staring me in the face.”
“You have to let this go, Vasilije.”
Looking at Saint, he ask
ed, “Like you have to let what happened to Solenne go?”
His mere reference to the rape made Saint’s anger nearly boil over. “That’s not the same and you know it.”
“I don’t pretend it is, but you still have to get over it.”
“I can’t. I can’t close my eyes without thinking about what that fucking Archon did to her. I wake up in a cold sweat every day, my hands shaking from anger at how much I want to kill him. He kidnapped her and took something precious…”
Saint stopped talking and hung his head, unable to finish his sentence. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word rape it hurt so much.
“If you don’t get past this, you’re just going to keep hurting Solenne. Trust me on this. I may not know much about love, but I know all about how to hurt and that’s all you’re doing by not getting past what he did. She needs you to support her now, not avenge her, because if you don’t take care of her now, there won’t be a later.”
“I don’t know how to. How the hell do you push it all down like you do?”
Vasilije sneered. “You mean my hate for Thane or how much I miss Sasa?”
Looking at him, Saint saw the sadness in his eyes. “Both.”
He took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly. “The hate never goes away. It ebbs and flows through me, but never goes away. The other I can pretend doesn’t exist until I’m alone. Then it overtakes the hate and I’m not sure I can go another moment without her.”
“Then why don’t you take her back? I know she’s never far away and would come back with just a word from you.”
Vasilije looked away and said quietly, “I can’t. Not until I don’t see him on her anymore. All I see now when I look at her is him all over her.”
Saint didn’t know what to say. He knew about betrayal. He’d lived with believing Solenne had betrayed him for nearly a century. But Vasilije and Sasa were different. He made her vampire and chose her over all others. He didn’t know why they’d gotten so lost, but something told him the love they shared hadn’t gone away simply because she’d run off with Thane.
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