by E. S. Moore
I glanced at the slip of paper again and frowned. “Then what’s the address here?”
“That is where you will pick up your payment. One of my werewolves will be there with a significant monetary reward for your services once the kill is complete.”
I had to fight to keep from balling up the paper and throwing it in Henri’s face. I didn’t work for money. While I might have been known to grab a wallet or two from a wolf or vamp I killed, it was only so I could pay for Mikael’s services, not to mention the bills. Taking Baset’s money would make me feel dirtier than I already did.
“I don’t need your money,” I said.
“But you’ll take it,” Baset said. “I insist. If we are to both be happy with this arrangement, you will need to be compensated.”
I doubted I would ever be happy about our agreement but stopped arguing. I didn’t want Henri to start cutting on Jonathan again because I was being bullheaded.
The dead vamp started to say something more but erupted into a fit of coughing instead. I prayed she would drop dead so I could forget about all of this. I hated myself for even considering her offer, let alone going through with it.
The fit passed and Baset slumped even farther. “There is a chance I could have another name for you when you pick up the money. If there is, you will have one week to dispose of your target. If there is not, you are free for the week. You are to return to the address given every Monday at first dark to either collect your payment or receive the next name. If you do not show . . .” She shrugged as if the rest would be obvious.
I was so mad, I was shaking. I had to stare at Jonathan sitting there, helpless, to keep from saying something stupid. It made my heart ache to know I was the reason he was suffering. If I had to suffer the indignity of becoming Countess Baset’s assassin to keep him safe, I’d do it.
But that didn’t mean I had to like it. As soon as I had Jonathan safely away, I would find a way to break free of her influence, even if it meant I would have to kill her to do so. I’d been planning on doing that anyway.
Baset must have seen something in my face, because she chuckled. “Do not think you can get out of this so easily. Our bargain cannot be broken, not if you care about those around you. If you so much as come near my home again, I will have your loved ones killed. We know where the Den is located.” She was silent for a long moment before adding, “I know where you live.”
I went cold all over. “How?”
“We have our ways.” She glanced at Jonathan as if accusing him, but I had a hard time believing he had told her anything. If he hadn’t broken when Count Tremaine had him, then he would have kept quiet now. I had to believe that.
I was pretty sure Baset was bluffing, but I wasn’t so sure I could take the chance she wasn’t. If she had followed me somehow, could I really risk Ethan’s life by turning against her?
I could just move, leave town, go back to Delai and hide in Levi’s basement. She couldn’t get me there, I was sure of it.
But then everyone I knew would pay for it. Jonathan, Ethan, maybe even Bart and Mikael. Could I really take being responsible for all of their deaths because I was too afraid to face my problems?
I was stuck. There was no way around it. I was going to have to do what she wanted unless I was willing to die here and now, and let Jonathan die with me.
“You won’t see me again,” Baset said. “I prefer my privacy and would hope you would respect that. Take what I have given, consider it a gift. Your life is worth that.”
Jonathan’s head lifted and he looked at me. There was so much pain in his eyes, it made me sick. I didn’t know why he hadn’t shifted, why he’d let them torture him like that. Was someone under Baset’s command a sorcerer of some sort? Henri was a necromancer, so it stood to reason he might know other magical arts.
“Your weapons will be returned to you as soon as you leave,” Baset said. She turned and walked back to the deep shadows in the back of the room, moving much more hesitantly than she had before.
Henri jerked Jonathan to his feet, causing the werewolf to groan. The vamp nodded for me to turn around, and the guy behind me took me by the arm and led me back to the stairs. If I hadn’t been so stunned by what had just transpired, I would have jerked away from him.
As it was, I let him all but drag me down the stairs and to the front door. It wasn’t until we reached the door that his touch really started to bother me. I kept thinking of maggots writhing on his flesh even though I knew he wasn’t the one who was rotting. I jerked from his grip when I swore I could feel something crawling on me.
He let me go but gave me a little push so I stumbled out the door. He gave me my weapons back, which was surprising since the silver would have been valuable to his Countess. I guess Baset and her minions were hoping it would be a show of good faith in not keeping them.
It was really hard not to shoot Henri and his friend the moment he let Jonathan go. He shoved the injured wolf out the door so hard he would have fallen if I hadn’t caught him. The door slammed closed even before we righted ourselves.
I stood there a moment, considering what to do. I’d noticed someone had cleaned up the bodies before we’d come back down, and Baset hadn’t mentioned those I’d killed, as if she expected my coming to cause a few deaths.
Of course, I only beheaded one of them. Perhaps she could just raise her other minions again, bullet holes and all.
Jonathan groaned and I turned away from the door with a shudder. It took everything I had not to go right back in and kill as many people as I could before they caught me. Baset was an abomination, and her minions were no better.
We walked back toward Jeremy’s car, feet dragging in the rising snow. I kept glancing over my shoulder, fully expecting there to be someone following us. I couldn’t believe Baset had let us go. She might think she had me bound, but I was sure I’d eventually find a way out of our arrangement.
Jonathan didn’t say a word until I had him seated in the passenger seat and we were heading down the road. His head sort of lolled to the side so he could face me. I’m not sure he could manage much else.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“Someone had to save your ass.” I went for tough, but I ended up sounding scared.
Jonathan licked his lips. They were dry and cracked, and no matter how much he licked at them, he couldn’t form enough spit to moisten them. “You could have let me die.”
I didn’t dignify that with a response.
Jonathan closed his swollen eyes and I think he fell asleep, because he didn’t say anything more the rest of the way to the Den’s underground parking garage.
As soon as I stopped the car, his eyes opened. He groaned but managed to get out of the car under his own power. I went over to him and offered my help anyway. It was my fault he was hurting so badly, and I was intent on paying for it in any way I could.
I waved at the cameras hidden around the garage in the hopes someone would see us and come help. Jonathan leaned on my arm, putting his full weight against me as we began the slow, painful walk toward the old library that was now the Luna Cult Den.
No one came out to meet us, so I assumed no one had been manning the monitors when I needed them. There was a good chance Nathan had all the other wolves in the Cult looking for their Denmaster.
Still, it pissed me off. I shouldn’t have to do this on my own.
I knew I should call someone, but I didn’t have a cell phone. I’d have to see if Jonathan had one somewhere inside so I could call Jeremy and let him know everything was okay. Because the Cult wanted the illusion of privacy, there were no phone lines connected to the old library. There were still power lines, however, so they at least had electricity. I’m not exactly sure why they thought one was okay and the other not.
I reached for the front door and Jonathan pushed away from me. I let him go, figuring he wouldn’t want his Cultists to see him leaning on me when we stepped inside. I waited for him to catch his balance before op
ening the door and stepping through the glamour of darkness into the light of the Den.
I expected to be confronted by someone as soon as we were through the door, but after a quick glance, I knew we were alone. In fact, I couldn’t hear anyone at all in the big building. It was as if everyone had up and vanished the moment their Denmaster had been taken.
“They’re in lockdown,” Jonathan said as he came in behind me. He sounded relieved. “Nathan must have implemented the protocol.” He coughed and blood flecked his lips. “I have to make a call.”
He started for the office door, but I intercepted him. “No, not yet. Let’s get you cleaned up first. Then you can go around giving orders again.”
Jonathan let me lead him up the stairs, through the carved doors, into his sitting room. He took the lead as we headed for the bedroom. I almost stayed outside, but he motioned for me to come in with him. I followed as far as the bed, where I sat down while he went into the bathroom. The shower started up a moment later.
I considered getting up and leaving. I wasn’t needed any longer. I’d found Jonathan, gotten him home alive, and that was all I needed to do. He was as safe as he was ever going to get. What did he need me for?
But even as I told myself it was time to go, I remained seated. He’d wanted me to come into the bedroom for a reason. He’d just been abducted and beaten. His ear was hanging on by a thread. While it would heal, he’d still have the scars. He probably didn’t want to be alone right then.
There were a few sharp screams from the bathroom that set me on edge. I listened carefully, but there didn’t seem to be anything else going on. It was unlikely someone had snuck into the bathroom and assaulted him while I was sitting in the next room.
The shower shut off a few minutes later, and Jonathan came out wearing nothing but a towel. He held his hand close to his chest, and I could tell all his fingers were now pointing in the right direction. I supposed that explained the screams.
He walked into the room, not really looking at anything, and then hesitated when he saw me still sitting here. I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me here or not.
“I thought you would have left by now,” he said, walking past me.
I tried to keep my eyes on the floor as he passed, but it was hard. I could see all the old scars, many I’d given him myself. They crisscrossed his chest and back like a chaotic map. His glamour was back up, so at least I didn’t have to look at the ruin of his head.
“I figured we should talk about what happened,” I said. I heard the towel hit the floor and my neck started hurting. It was taking all my self-control to keep from turning to look.
Jonathan was silent as he got dressed. He padded by on bare feet and went back into the bathroom, which gave me a moment to relax. He returned holding gauze to the ear Henri had been cutting on. The wound was still seeping blood, which for a werewolf meant it was pretty bad.
“What is there to talk about?” he asked, sitting on the bed beside me. He looked much better than he had before going into the bathroom, though he still looked pretty beat-up. I could feel the heat emanating from him, and I hoped it was because he’d taken a hot shower and not that he’d caught something from Baset. Who knew what kind of diseases her rotten body carried?
I could at least look at him now that he was wearing clothes. I shifted on the bed, scooting so I was a little farther from him, disguising it as though I was only moving to face him.
“Why didn’t you fight?” I asked. “You could have shifted.”
“If I had, they would have killed everyone in the Den. I would rather die than be responsible for their deaths.”
“Even after they took you back to the mansion?”
“Even then,” he said. “I was hoping they would accidently kill me and be done with it. I didn’t want you to come.”
“Well, I did.”
“You’re getting soft.” Jonathan managed a smile. He winced and resumed his pained grimace. “Are you going to do what she wants?”
I sighed. “I think I have to.”
“You shouldn’t have agreed to do anything for her. She’ll hold it against you.”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
Frustration started to boil over in the form of tears. I looked away and hurriedly wiped my hand across my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll do what I have to do to keep the people I care about safe.”
The sound of cloth on cloth nearly caused me to leap from the bed as Jonathan moved closer. His hands, gentle and scarred, touched my shoulders lightly before gripping them. He slowly turned me around to face him. The bloody gauze was stuck to his ear.
“Remember, you don’t have to do it alone.”
I looked into his eyes and knew it to be true.
Before I knew what was happening, Jonathan leaned forward, his lips finding mine.
I didn’t budge, didn’t react. I was too scared to do anything out of fear of what would happen. If I pulled away, he might take offense. If I leaned into him . . . I didn’t even want to think about what would happen.
Jonathan pulled back, eyes searching mine. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he said. His breath felt warm and inviting on my cheek. His upper lip was bleeding again from the kiss.
I could feel more tears coming and I silently cursed them. My lips started trembling and my hand slid a few inches forward so that it was touching his knee.
“I can’t help it,” I whispered.
Jonathan’s hand slid from my shoulder, lightly trailing up my neck. His fingers played over my cheekbone until his thumb slid under my eye, wiping the tear away.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice low. “It means more to me that you of all people came. I . . .” He trailed off and licked the blood from his lips.
My entire world felt like it was being shaken apart. I knew deep down I couldn’t have this. As kind and gentle as he was being, I was something different, something dark and terrible. I didn’t deserve his kindness.
I stood, brushing his hands away. “I’ve got to go,” I said, hurrying to the door.
“You can always stay.”
I turned to look back at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes full of hurt. The gauze was starting to fall from his ear, exposing more of the sawed-on ear. No matter how much I wanted to comfort him, to have him comfort me, I knew he was something I could never have.
“I can’t,” I said. It felt like someone punched me in the gut. “I’m sorry.”
I opened the door and all but flew down the stairs and out the front door of the Den.
17
I took my time getting home, not really wanting to face anyone after what I’d just gone through. Morning was just over the horizon, and while I was a mess inside, it didn’t mean I wanted to get caught out under the sun’s rays.
Jeremy was sipping coffee in the living room when I walked through the door. I almost went upstairs without saying anything to him, but his calm demeanor was unsettling. The last I’d seen him, he’d been a wreck.
“When do you sleep?” I asked, leaning against the wall. I so didn’t want him to realize how upset I really was.
He looked up at me and a flare of anger passed over his eyes. He was still pissed about what I’d said earlier, I was sure. I didn’t blame him; I’d still be angry too.
“When I can.”
“It must be hard on you.” I wasn’t sure if I meant the staying up or dealing with his missing arm. It just seemed like the right thing to say.
“I get by.”
I fumbled for something else to say and then realized I hadn’t told him the good news. “I found Jonathan,” I said. “He’s back at the Den, safe and sound.”
His eyes hardened. “I know. He called me.”
I felt like the world’s biggest bitch. I’d been nothing but cruel to the kid ever since I’d met him.
“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry about what I said. I’ve been pissed off at the world lat
ely, and I’ve been taking it out on everyone. I appreciate what you’ve tried to do. Ethan needs someone who can be here for him, and I just haven’t been that person.”
Jeremy studied me a moment like he was trying to figure out if I was serious or playing some sort of joke. Finally, he dipped his head in acceptance. “Thank you,” he said.
I smiled at him. “Get some rest sometime.”
“I will.” He smiled back, though it was still strained.
I went up to my room feeling a whole hell of a lot better. I was still nowhere close to feeling happy, let alone normal, but at least I’d started to mend one relationship. Jeremy would probably never forgive me for everything I’d done to him, but at least we were making progress.
Ethan was already tucked away in his room by the time I came upstairs. I could hear his snores through his door as I passed. I almost opened the door and peeked in on him like some doting mother worried about her small, helpless child. I wanted him to be safe and I felt like I needed to protect him.
I just patted the door and kept going instead. I might be getting soft like Jonathan had joked, but I wasn’t that soft.
As soon as I was in my room, I pulled the note with the name and address on it from my coat pocket. I sat down on my bed and stared at it, feeling suddenly lonely. I wanted someone sitting here beside me.
I wanted Jonathan.
His warmth and kindness would get me through this. He’d known exactly what to say, would make sure I didn’t do something mind-blowingly stupid. He’d shoulder some of the guilt I’d feel for working for a vampire Countess.
But I was alone and I would deal with this alone. No sense dragging him into this any more than he already was. Even if he asked, I’d tell him no. Jonathan had suffered enough on my behalf. I refused to be responsible for more.
Instead of dwelling on it, I turned my attention to the name written on the page: Count Strinowski. I wondered if he was from some other country or if he’d simply taken an exotic-sounding name. Jonathan had told me once that vampire Counts and Countesses took different names when they rose in power, so it wasn’t much of a stretch to think this guy had as well.