Vindication_League of Vampires

by Rye Brewer

  She followed obediently, asking no questions, matching my pace by lengthening her stride. The stiffness in her knee had all but vanished, judging by the smoothness with which she walked. Remembering the horrid condition she’d been in when I found her was almost enough to convince me to take a detour and visit my cousin one last time.

  No, better to watch Gregor get the upper hand on him. That would be a true victory.

  There it was. The cave entrance. The same one Jonah and Anissa had first used when they came to ShadesRealm.

  It led straight to the human world, where moonlight bathed the trees and grass. A relief. We could escape together, without the worry of the sun’s harmful rays.

  “I’m scared,” she breathed, just behind my left elbow.

  “Nothing to be afraid of.” We were about to reach the cave, where we would be outside the attention of nearly everyone. No one ever used that entrance, the one closest to my chambers.

  We only had to get through it, which was what I knew worried her. Would my blood be enough?

  I passed through easily, feeling the invisible wall of energy as I pass through it. “Stop,” I hissed, turning.

  She froze.

  “This is it?” she whispered, her face invisible in the hood’s shadow.

  “Yes. I only wanted to be certain. All right. Come on.”

  “I’m afraid.”

  “What’s the worst that could happen? We don’t have much time.”

  “It could kill me.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Allonic. He left me in there to die. This could very well kill me. What better way to rid himself of an inconvenient presence? This way, he can claim he had nothing to do with it. I tried to escape and suffered the consequences.”

  I exhaled. When she put it that way, I could see her point. Garan was just twisted enough to think that way.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “I need you to know that before I do this. Just in case.”

  I opened my mouth to tell her I loved her, too, that I had never loved anyone but her and would love her until my dying breath.

  I didn’t get the chance before she took a step forward.

  And into my arms.

  “You did it.” I held her to me, our hearts hammering wildly, laughing in disbelief. “You made it through.”

  “We did it.” She raised her head, the hood falling back, and I leaned down to kiss her. She wound her arms around my neck, her tears wetting both our faces.

  “Stop!”

  The moment came to an abrupt halt when the sound of shouts and pounding feet echoed down the length of the cave.

  “Hurry.” I took her hand and ran out into the woods, frantic for a place to hide. We weren’t out of danger yet.

  “What about a portal?” she asked as we ran, ducking under low-hanging branches and, jumping over tree roots and brambles.

  I’d have coursed if I had not used so much blood to heal her. I was certain I couldn’t course, not yet.

  “They’ll see it. They might be able to come through behind us.”

  No, we’d have to wait until they gave up the search. There was no telling how long that would take, however. We only had so many hours left before the sun rose.

  I could hear them coming from the cave. One moment there was silence, the next there was shouting and pounding of feet as the invisible energy field was breached again and again.

  It was the only entrance into ShadesRealm which allowed one to see through to what was on the other side.

  Mostly unused, but not entirely. I had relied too much on that. I should’ve known every entrance would have more eyes on it than usual, that if we paused on the other side, they’d still be able to see us.

  There was no time to go over my many mistakes as we fled deeper into the woods. I stopped momentarily, holding my breath to listen. I couldn’t hear them, but that didn’t mean anything. Felicity bent at the waist, her free hand on her thigh, breathing heavily.

  The moon was a stroke of good luck, at least, making it possible for me to see what was around us. There was a boulder further ahead, and I pointed to it. She nodded and summoned up her strength to make it the rest of the way there.

  “Sit,” I urged her once we arrived, helping her get as comfortable as I could. She was too weak for much more hard running.

  I peered out from behind the boulder, listening for any sign that we were followed. I didn’t hear any twig snaps or the crunching of leaves, but the faint sound of excited voices floated to me on the evening breeze. They were out there, looking for us.

  “How long do you think they’ll keep searching?” Felicity slumped against the, rock, her eyes closed.

  “I don’t know. Long enough to say they tried, for sure. But I don’t know how long that will be. If we don’t hear anything from them in an hour, at most, we’ll go to Avellane. I just don’t want to run the risk of them seeing the portal and possibly being able to come through.”

  “I understand,” she whispered, exhausted.

  I knelt beside her, ready to spring up at any moment. “I’m so sorry for all of this.” Her skin was cool to the touch but covered with a thin sheen of perspiration as I ran my hand over her forehead.

  “That’s the second time you’ve apologized.” She opened her eyes, regarding me in her usual frank manner. “Why do you do that? You aren’t Garan. You didn’t seize me and lock me in a cell. And oh, Allonic...” Tears filled her eyes. “Your mother. I’m terribly sorry. I suppose you know, if they told you how they caught me.”

  “Yes. I know. I know much more than you do, in fact.”

  Heaviness settled in my heart as I silently questioned whether she would still love me when I told her the truth of what I’d done.

  “Do you? Do you know what happened to Tabitha? That’s why I came. That’s why Gregor and I first reached out to Garan. He’d been frantic, trying to understand why she never met him outside the entrance to Avellane.”

  Poor Gregor. I remembered him waiting there, like a happy child. Living for the fantasy of a happy future with his one true love. I had shattered that fantasy.

  “I never would’ve guessed things could turn out this way.” I sat with my back to the rock, one ear still trained on the area around us. “I wouldn’t have chosen the course I did, naturally.”

  “The course you did? Don’t tell me you had something to do with it. No. I can’t believe that.”

  I patted her hand, my heart heavier than ever. “Felicity, there are times when we make choices we couldn’t possibly understand the consequences of. I am responsible for my mother’s death, thanks to a series of terrible decisions.”

  “You can’t mean it. I’m sure you’re wrong.” There was so much faith in her voice, on her face, that it broke my heart even further to shatter her illusions. She regarded me as someone worthy of respect, someone whose judgment was sound, whose motives were always pure.

  It was better for her to know the truth before she entangled herself with me any further. She would regret ever thinking or saying she loved me.

  I told her about taking Valerius from the dungeons beneath League Headquarters, about keeping him under my control on entering ShadesRealm. The silver cage. How I had intended to use his ancient powers for my own benefit, in an attempt to take what should’ve been mine all along.

  “You see,” I muttered, looking up at the stars to avoid the look of disgust I was certain would be on her face, “I’ve spent my entire life being Other. Not good enough for either side. By rights, I should be in Garan’s place. I should be respected, admired. But because of the vampire blood which runs through me…”

  “It was Valerius who killed Tabitha, then.” Her words fell on my ears like the boulder against which we sat. Heavy. Hard.

  “Yes. I didn’t know she would go back there. I thought she’d put it behind her once and for all. I never… I never would have.” I turned my face away as emotion threatened to overwhelm me.

  “And that was why you were s
o upset when I told you she’d gone back. Of course. I didn’t see it at the time. But, Allonic? You didn’t know. This Valerius, he’s evil. Truly evil. He didn’t need to kill her once she released him. He could have simply left. No, it was his wickedness that caused her death. Not you.”

  “But if I hadn’t been so blinded by greed and ambition…”

  “It isn’t your fault they never accepted you. You didn’t see any other way to get what’s rightfully yours. I can’t blame you for that.”

  “Oh, come now.” I looked at her, scoffing in spite of myself. “You don’t honestly mean to tell me you understand what happened and don’t blame me for it.”

  “I don’t blame you.” She sat up, rolling onto her knees at my side and taking both of my hands in hers. “Look at me. Listen to me. You could never have known what he was capable of. You couldn’t have known that she would come back. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have locked him that cage and left him for her. And I’ve met Garan. I can see why you would want to usurp him. He’s dreadful.”

  I studied her expression, looking for signs that she was lying or at least trying to soften the blow. She looked sincere. Her eyes shone in the moonlight, sparkling with unshed tears but gazing at me with fierce intensity.

  “What’s rightfully yours has been kept from you throughout your entire life,” she went on. “Not just your place of honor within the shade world, but dignity. Respect. None of this has been afforded to you, simply because of who you were born to. It’s absurd. Anyone would grow frustrated, even bitter. And they would want more than anything to set matters right, by whatever means necessary.”

  “You’re only saying that because of your feelings for me.”

  “I am not.” She dropped my hands, folding her arms. “I resent that.”

  “It’s the only explanation. I’ve gone over things again and again, and everything starts from the point where I took Valerius from the dungeon and brought him to ShadesRealm.”

  “After which time, he did what he did. You did not force him. Allonic.” She took my face in her hands. “You must forgive yourself for what happened.”

  “It doesn’t matter if I forgive myself. What about Anissa? Gregor? Sara?”

  “They would forgive you, too. I’m certain of it.”

  “You don’t know my sisters.”

  “I know Gregor. I know he would. He would never hold you responsible, not when you’re in so much pain because of it. He knows you loved her.”

  “I still do.”

  “And so does he,” she replied with a sad smile.

  The moon had moved through the sky since we’d first sat down. “They must have given up,” I surmised, looking out from behind the boulder. “We should leave.”

  “We have to go warn Gregor,” she agreed. “Oh, I wish you could’ve overthrown that Garan. You would’ve avoided the war that’s coming.”

  The war that was coming. “There might still be a way,” I decided. “But we have to go. Now.”

  Moments later, she created a portal.

  I reached for her, and she took my hand with a smile.

  “I do love you,” she whispered.

  “Still?” I asked, awed.

  She nodded. “And always.”

  My heart swelled. So it was possible to love someone after they admitted the worst thing they had ever done, something which had led to untold pain for many others.

  “I love you,” I replied before we stepped through the portal together.

  28

  Anissa

  To my great surprise, Scott spoke up for me before I had the chance to defend myself.

  “Wait a second.” He joined us, pointedly avoiding having to look at the baby.

  So he hadn’t come around yet. That made me sad for him, and for Fane. I had hoped so much that the two of them might find a way to connect.

  “I don’t recall asking you anything,” Jonah muttered.

  “Let him speak,” I urged.

  “Why? Because he’s about to defend you?”

  “No!” I hissed, glancing at the baby. The last thing I needed was to wake her, no matter how Jonah made me want to scream my head off. “Because there’s nothing to defend, for starters. Why do you assume I have anything to defend myself over?”

  “Because you looked guilty as anything back there, when he admitted he’s changed. You knew all along, didn’t you? But you didn’t say a word.”

  “Hmm. Let me think back. I seem to remember something else happening in the last day or so. What was it…?” I tilted my head to the side, tapping my chin. “Oh, of course. You’re holding her.”

  “It’s no excuse. You could’ve told me in Avellane.”

  Scott threw an arm between us, forcing me to take a step back. “Fane didn’t want anyone to know. Not Sirene, not you or Philippa. Did you ever think that he might want to tell you himself? Or that he knew it would upset Sirene if she knew, and he didn’t want to upset her?”

  “Why would it upset her?” Jonah asked, looking from him to me. “It means there’s no barrier between them anymore. I’d think that would make her happy.”

  I looked at Scott. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Is anything ever?” Jonah turned away, walking the baby back and forth until she started shifting and fussing in his arms. Like she could sense what was going on around her. She seemed to like being gently bounced, which was what Jonah started to do as he continued to glare at me. “What am I missing?”

  “You should put the baby down,” I whispered. If he wanted to know the truth, he would get the full truth. Fane lying there on the stone floor, dying…

  “Don’t tell me what I need to do. What am I missing?”

  “He was wounded.” It wasn’t me who broke the news; it was Scott. “I begged Elazar to save him. It was either that, or let him die there.”

  “A battle,” I murmured, still eyeing him and the baby.

  “I guess was too stupid to imagine Elazar would do something like this. I didn’t even know it was possible for him to take away Dad’s—Fane’s—essence and give him a new one. I’m no happier about it than you are. I hate it. It disgusts me.”

  “Scott,” I whispered.

  It sounded like I was chiding him, and maybe I was. His bigotry had no place in the story, whether he believed it did or not.

  “It’s true. I don’t care that I’m supposed to be all right with this. I’m still not. He’s not my father anymore—he hasn’t been for decades, but it was never this bad before. I could’ve accepted him back into my life if it weren’t for this.”

  “All right, all right. I don’t know how much more of that I can hear,” Jonah grumbled.

  “Like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Like you haven’t felt the same.”

  “I’m not saying I haven’t, but things have changed. I’ve changed. I’m not so stubborn that I can’t admit when I was wrong.”

  They stared at each other, and I could’ve sworn electricity crackled in the air between them. I wouldn’t have blamed Scott if he’d accused Jonah of sounding sanctimonious; he did, even though he was also right.

  “It’s not Fane’s fault,” I reminded Scott. “Not that there is any fault in being a warlock. But as you said, he would’ve died.”

  “Maybe he should have.”

  “Enough!”

  The baby wailed in response to Jonah’s barked command.

  I jumped, but Scott only shrugged and walked away, going to the windows and looking out. But he didn’t leave. He could have, but didn’t.

  I went to Jonah, reaching for the baby. He handed her to me, probably grateful to pass her off while she was crying.

  “She’s probably hungry,” I guessed.

  Jonah nodded, too distracted to notice or even care very much at the moment. “He almost died.” He wasn’t asking a question, not really. He seemed to be trying to absorb everything.

  I wanted more than anything to hold him and take away his pain, confusion, whatever it was. “
He did. It was very close. The battle… it was terrible.”

  He looked down at me—eyes narrowed, jaw tightening. I knew that look and braced myself for what was coming. “You could’ve told me. You had the opportunity to tell me, when you told me what happened back there on the island. But you didn’t. You deliberately left it out.”

  And there it was. What I had dreaded but knew was on its way all along. It was a choice I made, wasn’t it? To lie for Fane. “I have to get her a bottle,” I announced, going to the kitchen instead of getting deeper into a fight.

  He followed me. “You owe me more than this.”

  I pulled a bottle from the refrigerator. “More than what?”

  “More than lying to me.”

  “I did not lie. Don’t accuse me of something I didn’t do.”

  “It was a lie of omission.”

  It wasn’t easy, verbally sparring with him while trying to recall how Mom took care of Sara when she was an infant. The formula couldn’t be cold, could it? I’d have to warm it somehow, maybe under a hot tap. “Be as angry as you want about this, but it doesn’t make what you’re saying the truth. Your father ordered me not to say a word.”

  “He ordered you?” Jonah scoffed. “Since when do you follow his orders?”

  I turned my head away from the sink, staring at him. “Since when do I follow yours?”

  He flinched. “I never said you did. You’re twisting my words around.”

  “Am I?” I tested the bottle before inserting the rubber nipple into the baby’s mouth. She latched on quickly, almost greedily. “It doesn’t matter, or change anything. I followed his wishes. There. Does that sound better?”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Then don’t presume to tell me what I must or mustn’t tell you,” I snapped. “I used my discretion. I’m sorry if that’s such a problem for you. He didn’t want me to tell you, because it would’ve meant telling you the entire story. Scott wasn’t exaggerating. Fane had only moments left. Moments. It was…”

  It was too much, was what it was. All of it. The sick rush of memory, the helplessness. Watching him slip away. Knowing Jonah would lose him again, because he had fought to free me and Scott.