by Dannika Dark
“Viktor wouldn’t assemble a team if this wasn’t a dangerous job.”
“You said no one on the train is Breed.”
“We can’t be too careful. Those young ones need us at our best. There’s no telling what we might encounter.”
Viktor emerged from the narrow hall that led to the main door. He set a paper bag on Claude and Niko’s table and then made his way to the back.
I curled up my legs to give him room to sit by the rear window.
Viktor sat down and unrolled another paper bag. “Hot dogs. They serve meals on plates, but I did not want their staff coming in here. You like?”
“I’m not hungry, but thanks.”
He took one out and folded away the wax paper. “The children asked for snacks, but cookies are not what growing children need. I asked them to bake french fries instead and leave them with Shepherd. Dinner will be much later, so you won’t have another chance to eat for a while.”
The smell tempted me, but not enough. I hadn’t yet gotten acclimated to the motion of the train, plus I’d had a few drinks.
I let go of Christian’s arm and sat upright. “Why didn’t we fly?”
Viktor dusted crumbs off his short beard. “Our destination has no landing strip. A train is safer and closer to the ground. Men can hide on a plane, and then where would we go? It is not uncommon for Vampires to travel for free by charming the employees.” He took another big bite of his hot dog. “And what happens if I were to shift on a plane? Or Claude flips his switch around humans? People would take pictures and put it on social media. If there is a battle and the pilot loses control… Nyet, I cannot risk such things.”
“Private jet?”
“These children are in my care. What happens if the plane goes down and we perish in flames?”
“What happens if the train crashes?”
“Train is close to ground. You can jump, break bones, but nobody dies unless it goes off a mountain.” He finished off the hot dog and wiped his fingers on a paper napkin. “It’s too much money to rent a private jet that is large enough to accommodate everyone, and that would only be half the journey. An old friend owed me a favor, so he gave us this luxury car free. No questions asked. This is how collecting favors can work to your benefit.”
“Why are we moving them?”
He peered into the bag as if contemplating eating another hot dog but rolled the bag up instead. “There is a facility that is much safer for these children, and it has been such a success that they’ve built a few others like it. Cities are not a safe place for Potentials.” He gestured to the window. “They look outside and are tempted by the world around them. There is a high risk of runaways in the city, but there have been no reports of problems in the newer facilities. They are larger and safer, but the operation to transport the children has been slow going.”
“Ah. So what you’re saying is that we’re going into the woods.” I suddenly regretted my shoe choice. I’d been thinking about comfort and speed more than practicality for any situation.
Viktor picked at his teeth before wiping his mouth again. “Children are less likely to run away if they know they will be lost in the wilderness with wild animals. Once they are old enough, they are free to make their own decisions. Become Breed, stay human, or go into hiding with fake identification. There will always be a risk of discovery if they visit a doctor or hospital and someone sees their mark. Less so as they age. I have heard stories that some cut it off their body.”
I shuddered at the thought.
Christian stood up. “I’ll be walking the train now.” With his sunglasses still in place, he strode out of the room to do another security check.
“Can they really be anything they want?” I asked. “What if the person they have sex with is a crossbreed like me?”
Viktor rested his arm over the back of the seat, his leg crossed. “It is my understanding that there are no limitations, but crossbreeds are so rare that I do not believe anyone has tried such a thing. The Relics who look after them have specific knowledge about Potentials. Only they know all their secrets.” Viktor scratched his nose and gazed out the window behind me. “Let us say there is an alpha in search of a mate, but he does not want a dominant woman. He seeks a woman he can control, who will do his every bidding. Perhaps one he perceives as a pureblood. You see, among Shifters, purebloods only exist in the royal line. They have no mixture of other animals in their… genetics? Gem would know the word.”
“I know what you mean. So how does it work? The first person a Potential has sex with determines what they are?”
“Not entirely. It is only with the first Breed that they sleep with. Even if they have intercourse with humans, they can still become Breed. It involves DNA and chemicals in their reproductive system. It cannot happen by kissing or…” Flustered, he fiddled with the paper sack next to him.
Yeah, Viktor didn’t really want to get into the nitty-gritty of what I wanted to know. Like could a Potential become Breed through oral or anal sex. It was a fair question.
“Very few know about Potentials,” he continued. “Most of the young ones have never heard of them, but the elders cling to folklore as truth. So I ask that you not discuss these details with anyone outside of Keystone. Not even your father. It is not our place to convince the world of their existence. Do you think they would be accepted with open arms? Throughout history, men have destroyed what they fear or do not understand. We have sought to eradicate other Breeds, and some successfully. Thank the fates that the higher authority has not adopted this way of thinking.”
“What happens to the kids who have parents and don’t wind up in orphanages?”
“We cannot protect them. Some manage to live ordinary lives. Others are not so lucky. Often you hear stories in the news about runaways or kidnappings. If the wrong person finds them, that is their fate.”
I pulled my messy hair back and tied it with an elastic band I’d kept around my wrist. “What about those who choose to become Breed? Aren’t they afraid people will see their mark and not realize they’ve already turned?”
“Some tattoo or burn away their mark to keep the secret. Others are less concerned about hiding even though the higher authority condemns talking about it. I once heard of a woman telling her story to an unbelieving audience. People wrote her off as insane or eccentric.”
I reclined my head. “So what comes after this?”
Viktor patted my knee. “Sleep, Raven. Our stop will be in approximately fourteen hours.”
“And then what?”
He stood up with his bag. “A less comfortable ride.”
Gem shook her sore wrist and sat back in her chair. She had been transcribing the books that Viktor had assigned to her for weeks on end. Only one would be of interest to him as it contained the names of immortals in the seventeen hundreds who’d been accused of high crimes but had escaped. Time often erased a person’s sins, but documentation such as this could help carry out justice in the modern world.
Viktor had asked her to focus on the books she’d recently acquired at the pawnshop, but after going through them, she didn’t see the rush. They were historically interesting but didn’t contain anything juicy like her other project.
Gem rested her cheek against her palm and stared at her bookshelf. Because she’d been the first in the house, Viktor had given her the choice of any room in which to do her work. So she’d wandered from room to room like a nomad, going through all the books that were already shelved or in boxes. Some of them went to charity, others to the pawnshop, and the rest became part of her private collection. But as Keystone grew, Gem decided she needed privacy to do her work. A place that was dark, secure, and hidden.
When Viktor showed her the secret passageway to this room, she fell in love with it. He promised to keep it a secret so she could work without any interruptions. Someone had loved this place and built it with the same idea in mind—to store precious books. The tomes must have belonged to his extended family
that he never talked about. It had taken her time to go through each book, and most of them were boxed and relocated to a private study upstairs. After she finished, she filled the shelves with her own private collection, some of which she’d found in the house. Not long after that, she stumbled upon an old one with a red leather cover. Had it been there all along, or had she just forgotten about it? The old leather binding showed signs of wear but no significant damage. The pages were thick, and the writing was like nothing she’d ever seen before. So the red book had become her pet project. She cross-referenced many languages in search of a common thread between the symbols—anything to give her a head start on the etymology. But instead this book had become the bane of her existence.
Her eyes darted down to the box with her latest purchases, and she noticed a few had slipped beneath the heavy papers she’d used for packing.
“Alas, a girl’s work is never done.”
Gem hopped out of her seat and retrieved three small books from the box. If she didn’t shelve them now, they might end up in the wrong pile. After she tucked the books under her arm, she positioned the ladder by the left-hand shelf. Gem was proud of her organizational system and never had any trouble locating a book. As she ascended the ladder, one of the books slipped from her grasp and hit the floor.
Gem cringed. There was nothing worse than dropping a book. Nothing!
She heaved a sigh. “Nothing to see here, ladies and gentlemen. It’s just me, destroying history, one page at a time.”
Her sneakers hit the floor as she hopped down from the ladder and set the other two books on the desk. Their fallen brother was facedown, his spine bent and covers splayed open. Just seeing the pages beneath, all folded and bent, was like watching the death of a butterfly. She gingerly lifted the book and turned it over to assess the damage. To some, books were portals through which to escape. But to Gem they were her children.
“That’s not so bad,” she said, straightening a crease on one of the pages. With an old book, you could never tell how it would withstand the impact of a fall. Sometimes the paper tore away from the spine, and other times the hinges would break open.
Before she closed it, the writing inside caught her attention. She studied the handwritten symbols and recognized them to be Akkadian, an extinct Semitic language of ancient Mesopotamia. But what interested her was that above some of the writing, someone had scribbled symbols of an unfamiliar language.
She cocked her head to the side. Gem had so much knowledge in her head that sometimes it was like trying to sort through a massive Rolodex. Focusing her attention back on the main text, she pulled out a volume of her Assyrian dictionary.
Her phone buzzed on the table. “Jiminy Christmas! Can’t a girl work in peace?”
She read Wyatt’s message.
“Dinner’s ready? Who can eat when I’m on the brink of a great discovery?” She blew out the candles and walked jauntily out the door.
Too bad her skates were upstairs. Gem adored the freedom and whimsy that roller-skating gave her. Because she hadn’t experienced a real childhood, she indulged in everything a child would. Why on earth did adults give up such cheerful activities? Bicycling wasn’t her thing, and she’d never grasped Rollerblades, but the old-fashioned skates with wheels on four corners made her feel like the wind.
She flashed down the hall and around the corner until she reached the dining room. The only person at the table was Wyatt.
Gem steered right and sat across from him in Raven’s chair.
“That’s not where you sit.” He folded his arms and pretended he cared.
“No one’s here, Spooky. Pick any chair you like.”
“I like mine.”
“I bet your heinie is just too sore to move.”
His mouth turned down. “You try sitting with a wolf bite in the ass.”
She giggled. “Why didn’t you let Niko heal it?”
The heels of his boots knocked against the floor as irritation flashed in his eyes. “By the time I woke up, everyone had split. Nobody ever thinks of Wyatt. It’s all about me, me, me. It’s just gotta heal on its own.”
“Any news from Viktor?”
He touched the light dusting of whiskers on his face. They weren’t coarse like Shepherd’s but looked soft and grew in patches. “Not yet. I was busy setting up travel arrangements for their next stop.”
“Where?”
“Can’t tell you.”
She poked out her tongue. Wyatt loved secrets, but he was horrible at keeping them. He loved to taunt people with his insider’s knowledge until he finally revealed enough details that a person could figure out the secret.
Gem rested her elbows on the table. “I wish we could go on travel adventures.”
He stifled a laugh. “No you don’t, buttercup. Remember what happened on their last getaway? They had to jump out of an airplane into the freezing ocean. After the plane exploded, they hiked in wet clothes through the snow. Raven almost got her eyes scratched out by those Shifters who cornered her in the woods. And poor Blue was busy fighting off some horny mountain hermit.” He sighed wistfully. “I wish I had been there to see it all. Maybe I should make them wear body cams.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want to go on those trips.”
“I don’t wanna live it—I just wanna see it.”
What Gem really yearned for was a vacation, without all the crazy assassins. She just didn’t want to go alone, and the group never took holidays together. There was always work on someone’s plate, and Viktor didn’t like them all gone at once.
Wyatt kept his loose grey beanie on instead of taking it off as he often did at the table. His hair didn’t play by the rules, but it was adorable in a boyish kind of way. Maybe that was why he always covered it up. Men were silly when it came to their perception of masculinity and attractiveness.
He glanced at the entryway when footfalls quickly approached. “Hey, little monkey. You ready for some chow?”
Hunter pulled out his chair at the end of the table and sat down.
“It’s just us, kiddo,” Wyatt said. “So you’re gonna have to do all the talking.”
Gem gave him a reproachful look. “That’s not nice.”
“The kid needs to talk eventually.”
“Does he? There are other ways to communicate in this world. Sometimes your mouth is the least effective.”
Switch swaggered into the room and took a seat in one of the booths along the wall. Gem had been so preoccupied with work that she hadn’t taken the chance to get to know him. He was about the same height as Niko and Christian, but to her, anyone taller than five-ten made her feel like a garden gnome.
“Why don’t you sit with us?” she asked, inviting him over with a wave of her arm.
“I’m not even supposed to be in here. Viktor wants me eating at different hours because of the confidentiality.”
“Viktor’s not here. He just doesn’t want you overhearing any work stuff, but I am so done talking about work today. Don’t make me yell over my shoulder!” she said loudly.
Switch rose to his feet and walked over. He didn’t just walk, he had a swing in his shoulders and a heavy gait, like a man with an extra dose of confidence. He pulled out a chair on Hunter’s left and took a seat.
Gem hopped over to Christian’s chair to move a little closer. “We should roast marshmallows in the fireplace later. Have you ever done that?”
He tucked a chunk of long hair behind his ear. “Kids do that.”
She put her foot on the chair, her knee bent. “I didn’t know sugar was just for kids. I’ll make sure to inform Kira of your special dietary restrictions.”
His lips twitched.
“Your wolf is an asshole,” Wyatt blurted out.
Switch turned his head and glared.
Wyatt flinched and looked down at the tattoos on his hands.
“How long have you known Raven?” Gem asked, genuinely fascinated that Raven had grown up around Shifters without ever r
ealizing it.
“Since we were kids. We didn’t really hang out because of the age gap, but her dad and mine were friends, so we saw each other at all the get-togethers.”
Wyatt propped his elbows on the table. “And you two never…?” He used his fingers to simulate sex.
Gem rolled her eyes at the vulgarity.
“No,” Switch said firmly. “She was a child.”
“Only by a few years,” Wyatt countered.
“Maybe that’s how they do it in your neck of the woods, but not mine.”
Kira appeared from the kitchen entryway, her red hair tied back in a blue kerchief. Gem thought her fiery hair was exquisite. The ombré effect was like nothing she’d ever seen before in natural hair.
Without a word, Kira set down a platter of hamburgers in the center of the table.
“Bravo!” Wyatt applauded. “You’re my culinary hero. Anyone ever tell you that?”
Gem was certain she caught a smile on Kira’s lips before she hustled out of the room and returned with bowls of sliced avocados, tomatoes, onions, arugula, and cheese. She had mastered the art of American cuisine but hadn’t figured out when it was appropriate to put condiments on the table.
Wyatt’s eyes lit up when she returned with a cloth-lined bowl filled with homemade french fries. He grabbed the tongs and filled his plate.
“You better eat some meat with that,” Gem remarked. “You’ll turn into a potato.”
Switch stood up and fixed Hunter’s plate. Instead of asking him what he wanted, he’d simply point to an item and wait for Hunter to shake or nod his head.
What a thoughtful thing to do.
After assembling Hunter’s meal, Switch sat down with his own plate. His large hands covered the entire bun, and Gem couldn’t stop staring as he ravenously chewed into his burger. People fascinated her. Everyone had their own unique styles, idiosyncrasies, and manner of speaking. With little to go on, she found it easy to read people. When Raven had come to Keystone, Gem sensed right away that she had a good heart. But Switch wasn’t easy to read.
“What happens if he never talks?” Wyatt salted his fries. “Doesn’t that make it hard to teach him anything?”