Retribution (League of Vampires Book 4)

by Rye Brewer

  “You can turn around,” Jonah muttered after a minute.

  I did. It took a second for me to be able to look at either of them—even then, she wouldn’t look at me.

  “Sorry I interrupted,” I mumbled.

  Just the sight of the messed-up sheets made my skin crawl.

  He noticed where my eyes kept drifting.

  “Come out. Out of here.” He took me by the elbow and led me out of the room, down the hall, to the living room.

  I didn’t fight him off. The living room didn’t feel as gross as his bedroom.

  When he let me go, he asked, “What’s going on? Why did you barge in?”

  I reached into my pocket and fished out Gage’s ring, then held it out on my palm.

  “What’s the big deal?” Jonah asked.

  “It’s Gage’s.”

  “Right.”

  “I found it in Lucian’s dungeon.”

  That got him. His eyes flew open wide. So much for afterglow. “Wait. Why were you in Lucian’s dungeon?”

  “It’s a long, long story.”

  “I have time,” he growled, folding his arms over his chest.

  “I went there to find Vance.”

  “I should’ve known.”

  “The fact is, this ring was in the dungeon. It was covered in blood before I cleaned it off.”

  Some of his anger with me seemed to fade away as he took the ring from me and looked closely at it. “What does it mean?”

  “I think it means it was Lucian who beat Gage—or had him beaten, more like. You know how Lucian really is. He wouldn’t get his hands dirty when there are people to do the work for him.”

  “You’re right, of course.” Jonah’s forehead creased as he frowned. “I still want to know what you thought you were doing, going to Lucian’s all alone like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  “Can we please talk about Gage first?”

  “No, we can’t,” he snarled. “You could’ve at least let somebody know what you were planning on doing.”

  “Oh, I see. It’s okay for you to traipse all over the universe without saying a word, but I have to check in with you.”

  “It was too big a chance for you to take on your own!”

  “She wasn’t on her own,” Anissa said in a low, soft voice. “Isn’t that where you wanted Allonic to take you? Wasn’t that why you needed his help?”

  When did she come into earshot?

  My heart sank as I nodded. “Yeah. That’s why I needed his help.”

  “You dragged him into this?” Jonah almost bellowed.

  “Would you please chill out? You’re giving me a headache.” It was my old defense mechanism. I knew he was right, but I wouldn’t admit it.

  Anissa put a hand on his shoulder and kept her gaze locked on my face. “Where is he now? Did he come back with you?” she asked.

  Here we go. “No. He didn’t. I have to tell you the truth, but it’s not easy.”

  “The truth.” Her words were like lead weights.

  “What truth?” Jonah asked.

  I swallowed hard before starting and remembered why I usually shied away from being honest. It was too hard—and dangerous.

  “He’s okay now. I think,” I started, “but some of Lucian’s guys must have… I don’t know… intercepted him somehow when he was portalling out of Lucian’s home. I still don’t know how it happened.”

  “No!” Anissa pushed Jonah aside to lunge, but he caught her before she could reach me.

  “He’s all right now!” I shouted over her incoherent shrieks.

  “What did they do to him?” she finally shouted when Jonah calmed her down a little—before screaming, “You were in the dungeon? He was in the dungeon? What did they do?”

  “Anissa, calm down,” Jonah crooned.

  I didn’t know what bothered me more—her irrationality or the way he babied her.

  “Like I said, he’s all right now.” The image of his face as he screamed in pain flashed through my head. There was no “all right” after something like that.

  “Where is he?” Anissa growled. “Is he still there? Do we have to go?”

  “He’s not there anymore.”

  “You could have gotten him killed, you selfish bitch!” She threw herself at me again.

  This time, I jumped back.

  Jonah wasn’t fast enough to stop her, and she would’ve reached me otherwise.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” I shouted back. “I know what I did, okay? I wouldn’t want to get him hurt, believe me.”

  “But you did get him hurt, Philippa! You never think about what the things you do might do to other people!” She was still fighting him, wanting to get a piece of me.

  Nothing he said could quiet her down.

  I didn’t move.

  She was right. And someday, when I had enough time to think it over, I would. This wasn’t the time.

  “So where is he?”

  “I don’t know where he went immediately after the dungeon, but I know where he was eventually supposed to go. It was Genevieve who freed him. She wanted him to give her a spiritwalker in exchange for freeing him.”

  “Genevieve again?” Jonah looked at Anissa.

  She was finally finished trying to attack me.

  “She wanted him to meet her at her hotel room. Uh… the St. Regis.”

  “Yeah. We know.” Jonah’s voice was tight and he hadn’t looked away from Anissa.

  I couldn’t read her expression. They knew? Why would they know? Not like either of them would tell me.

  “We have to save him from her,” Anissa murmured.

  “Just hang on a minute.” He looked at me. “Why does she want a spiritwalker? Did she say?”

  “She was really weird about it. Kind of coy and flirty. She wouldn’t tell him what she needed it for. But he did agree to give her one.”

  “Great. We really need to get there,” Anissa said. “I’m going as soon as the sun sets.”

  “Not alone.” He looked at me in a way that told me I had no choice.

  I owed it to Allonic, anyway.

  “I’ll go with you,” I announced.

  32

  Allonic

  I would have expected Genevieve to stay in a hotel as glamorous as the St. Regis. It wasn’t a surprise when she told me to meet her there, of all hotels in the city.

  What I couldn’t predict was what to expect when I portalled to her room. She needed something from me, so I did not think the chances of an ambush were high.

  I had ways of protecting myself from her or anyone in her circle—though when I remembered the way she sounded, the way she looked at me, while presenting her deal. She needed me.

  I portalled straight to the room—someone like me would certainly never blend in among the human guests. It was a risk, but one I had to take.

  Of all the things I could have found once I arrived, the sight of a drying pool of blood was not one I planned for.

  Instead of all eyes being turned to me, Genevieve and her men bustled around the room, talking over one another. I noticed one of them attaching a piece of cardboard to a window with a roll of adhesive tape. What had I missed?

  “How could something like this happen?” Genevieve snarled, pacing to and fro.

  She wasn’t the composed, lovely thing she normally presented to the world. She looked rather haggard as she fired off questions and hurled insults.

  “We still don’t know who it was,” one of the men explained. “I got here just as they were escaping out the window. Whoever they were, they got cut up real bad. Half this blood is theirs.”

  “And the other half was his.”

  His? Was? They had suffered a loss. At whose hand? Who could escape out the window without hurtling to their death? I had a few ideas. But that would mean Anissa’s mortal injury. There was blood everywhere, drying into the carpet, the bedspread, the wallpaper.

  Genevieve finally noticed me. “I didn’t realize we had a visitor
.”

  In the blink of an eye, she composed herself. Her mask was back in place. She glanced around the room, at the men still milling about. “Get up to the roof, in case anyone comes back.”

  Neither of us said another word until we were alone.

  Genevieve folded her hands in front of her abdomen, looking as relaxed as ever.

  I knew the truth. Someone—possibly my sister—had greatly upset and unsettled her. She was not as untouchable as she thought.

  “I appreciate you adhering to our agreement,” she murmured. The corners of her mouth curled up in a smile.

  “I saw no reason not to. A deal is a deal.”

  “I knew I could count on you. Would you like a drink?” She glided across the room in one of her long, flowing gowns and seemed to barely notice the dried blood she walked through.

  How would they cover up such a mess?

  “No, thank you.” I watched as she poured herself a crystal tumbler of deep red liquid.

  Blood.

  I wished she would get on with the reason she requested my presence. She seemed to enjoy playing games, drawing out suspense, taking things at her own pace. I watched her drink deep, then smile in satisfaction.

  “Why did you ask me to meet you here?” I was unable to wait any longer.

  “What’s the hurry?” she sneered. “I thought you and I could get to know each other a bit better before we talked about such ugly things as business.”

  “Yes, well, I would rather know my purpose for being here. Freeing me from Lucian’s dungeon was a dangerous step. Why would you take a risk of that magnitude? What is your plan?”

  Her smile slipped. “I didn’t offer full disclosure as part of our deal.”

  “It would be easier for you to tell the truth,” I said.

  “Easier?” She arched one eyebrow. “And there I was, thinking it would be easier on both of us if we became a little more friendly.” Her voice was heavy with meaning—which meant little to me.

  “I will get the truth one way or another—either when you offer it freely, or when I send a spiritwalker into you and extract it my way. As I said, offering the truth would be easier on you.”

  She froze for a moment, then laughed. “I pride myself on never underestimating anyone, but I fell short on my assessment of you. You’re quite determined.” Her long, slim arms crossed over her long, slim body. “All right, then. You want the truth. You think you’re owed the truth, when I’m the one who freed you. Still, fair is fair.”

  There was still a note of flirtatiousness in her voice. It didn’t seem to matter that I wasn’t interested. I supposed it was her nature to use all of the many gifts she possessed in her favor.

  She perched on the end of the bed, carefully avoiding the bloodstain. “To put it bluntly, I want power. My position may look desirable on the surface, but that is just appearance. As you may or may not know, women are not generally the first choice when positions of power are available. No matter how intelligent or strong a leader, a woman will get passed over every time there’s a man even remotely interested in the position.” She shrugged. “I’ve found ways of coping, but that’s no longer enough.”

  “How do I fit into this desire of yours?”

  “I’m getting to that.” She waved a dismissive hand.

  So I was at her mercy and would have to listen to her tale of woe.

  “You see, Lucian has promised such a position to my brother.”

  “Your brother? Not you?”

  “As I said…” Her mouth curved down in a frown. “Still, my brother trusts me implicitly and relies on me. The only question is, which position and which clan would my brother take?”

  She stood, going back for a second tumbler of blood. “I would prefer to relocate to this area. The city has everything I desire. So, I chose the Bourkes.”

  “Chose the Bourkes?”

  “For my brother to take over, of course.” She drank again while I tried to process her meaning.

  Jonah led the Bourkes. She wanted to unseat him? Suspicion began unfurling in my core.

  “Of course,” she continued once she drained her tumbler, “that meant I would have to come up with a way to get Jonah Bourke out of the way. He certainly wouldn’t step aside if I asked nicely. I had to do a lot of thinking on it but came up with what I thought was the perfect plan—no, it was the perfect plan. It’s not my fault I can’t count on those closest to me sometimes.”

  She was so full of her own cleverness.

  “And what was this plan?”

  “To plant contaminated blood in the Bourke supply.”

  The news rocked me. I had a sick feeling that was where her story was leading. Sara was suffering because of Genevieve’s greed. I had to clear Sara’s plight from my thoughts in order to focus on what Genevieve was telling me.

  “What was the outcome?”

  “You tell me,” she said with an insolent shrug. “I came up with the brilliant idea to contaminate the personal supply of Jonah and his siblings in order to turn them into hybrid witches. They would have no choice but to flee once that happened, or else risk the wrath of the League. But my mole vanished on me. Into thin air. I have no idea of the outcome of my plan. I needed a Plan B. And that’s you.”

  “Me?”

  She nodded slowly, savoring the moment. “This is where your spiritwalker comes in. I need you to send it into Marcus Carver and have it try to kill Lucian.”

  Even after hearing everything she had already told me, the idea was still startling. “You said try. Does it matter whether the spiritwalker is successful?”

  “Just an attempt would be enough for Marcus to be removed from his position at the very least. He might even be put to death as a result. Regardless, my brother would come into power—and thus, by extension, would I.” She talked about it as though she were discussing holiday plans. As though it didn’t matter whether Marcus Carver lived or died.

  The entire plan sat poorly with me. It was too risky. “Does Lucian know about either of your plans?”

  “Oh, he knows about Plan A,” she said with a raised brow. Her ruby lips were redder than ever after feeding.

  “And he didn’t try to stop you?”

  “On the contrary. He seemed tickled pink at the idea of ruining the Bourkes. A lot of bad blood there, I think.” She shook her head. “He has no idea of Plan B, not that it matters one way or another.”

  “And you do not care which clan your brother takes over?”

  “Not in the least. One or the other, they’re the same as far as I’m concerned. So long as I’m in the area.”

  Anything else I was about to ask her vanished when I heard a noise at the door.

  The sound of people trying to be quiet and failing terribly.

  Genevieve tensed.

  I heard a voice very much like Anissa’s whisper: “You have no idea.”

  “What’s this?” Genevieve asked.

  I had no choice.

  She wanted a spiritwalker, after all.

  I sent one into her and in an instant, she was under my control.

  Being inside her mind was not an opportunity I relished, but I needed her to stay quiet.

  She railed against the presence in her mind—she was powerful, too, but not powerful enough.

  I sent her to a chair by the window and forced her to sit.

  33

  Anissa

  It was easier not to look around at all the beautiful things in the St. Regis lobby when I was aching to see my brother. And reminding myself every ten seconds why it would be a bad idea to kill Philippa. Because it would. Knowing that was the only thing keeping her alive. I wondered if she knew it and thought she did. She had looked scared a few times back at the penthouse when I freaked out.

  “I wish we could’ve brought the rest of the family,” Philippa murmured as her eyes swept back and forth over the lobby while the three of us went to the elevator.

  The clerk I had compelled was working at the desk. He looked
right at me but had no idea who I was.

  “Yeah, well, Gage is nowhere to be found right now—I gave him work to do, so he’s busy. And Scott’s out, according to his buddies. They didn’t know where. So unless it’s a good idea to wait…” Jonah trailed off.

  “We’re not waiting,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Sorry you can’t have things the way you want them, Philippa.”

  We stepped into the elevator car, and I even resented Philippa for being the reason I couldn’t enjoy being there. I couldn’t even take it all in because I hated her so damn much. And I was too worried about Allonic.

  She didn’t argue with me, which had to be a miracle. Or it could’ve been the look Jonah shot her. Regardless, we had to walk through the lobby and take the elevator because she was there.

  No way I was helping her zipline. Not that she would, anyway. And the temptation to cut the line while she was on it would be too much for me to fight. If Allonic was hurt or in any danger, I didn’t know if I would be able to keep from doing to her whatever was done to him.

  We reached the seventh floor.

  My heart pounded as Jonah stepped off the elevator to make sure the coast was clear.

  When he waved us off, we followed him.

  The hall was empty and silent.

  All the better for me to hear my racing heart. Until just now, tiptoeing down the hallway in the direction of Genevieve’s room, I didn’t make the connection that I’d be going back to the room where I fought off that thug. I was sure he was dead, but that didn’t mean there weren’t ten more just like him.

  “Ready?” Jonah mouthed when we reached the door. I bent to slide a blade from my boot and nodded.

  “Really?” Philippa whispered.

  “You have no idea,” I hissed.

  Jonah rolled his eyes before kicking the door open.

  The three of us rushed into the room, ready to fight.

  All we found was Genevieve in a chair. She didn’t flinch or even blink.

  Allonic stood beside her.

  I felt faint with relief when I noted how relatively okay he looked.

  I put the blade down on a table and threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “I was so worried about you,” I admitted.