by Rye Brewer
I whirled around, gasping at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Not just unfamiliar—terrifying.
It chilled me to the bone.
The man approaching was not just a man. He was a shade, the same as Allonic. He had the same dark skin, the same smooth head, the same glowing eyes. Only his eyes seemed to glow with hatred. He had a long, white beard that brushed against the dark-red cloak he wore.
I thought I saw a resemblance between the two of them—faint, but present.
He raised one long arm and pointed a bony finger at me. “I knew I smelled witch’s blood,” he spat in disgust.
I realized he was talking about me and opened my mouth to correct him—but some instinct sealed my lips shut.
Allonic didn’t correct him, either. All he said was, “Ressenden.”
So, this was the great Ressenden. He didn’t look so great to me. He might have been when he was younger and his tall, rangy frame had a little meat on it. He had shriveled and withered over the years until his cloak hung on him in folds and folds of fabric. But his eyes were still sharp.
I had the feeling he had a sharp brain to go along with them.
He hadn’t stopped staring at me, and I held his gaze with my chin raised.
Meanwhile, my thoughts bounced around in my head.
He wanted to hurt me, that much was clear—he did everything but sneer and spit at me.
I wanted to get away from him, far away. Could I course? Was I strong enough, after coursing twice so recently? I doubted it, but what option did I have other than to try? He wouldn’t be able to catch me, since shades couldn’t course.
I was just about to turn around and course away from here as fast as I could when I remembered what happened the last time I’d tried to course away from a shade. What was her name, the one who’d tormented me down in the Sanctuary? Tasara. I remembered the sensation of struggling through quicksand. She couldn’t catch me, but she could stop me with her mind.
And Ressenden seemed to have an even stronger mind than she did. He hated me more, too. The hatred poured off him in waves and threatened to suffocate me.
What could I do? I had to protect myself somehow.
All of this went through my head in an instant, as Allonic tried to position himself between Ressenden and me.
Ressenden sneered. “What’s this? Trying to protect your little witch? You should know better than to waste your time.”
How could I keep him away from me?
I almost wished I were a witch. I wished I could send lightning shooting out of my hands, the way Sara did. That would make him think twice before he threatened anyone.
Then it hit me. I didn’t need lightning. I had something else, tucked away in my boots. Marcus’s training had come in handy. I never left home without my weapons.
Were shades as allergic to silver as vampires? It didn’t matter. Shades bled, and my blades were sharp.
Ressenden’s voice was cold when he asked, “What is the witch doing here?” He didn’t take his eyes off me.
Again, I stayed quiet.
It was better for Sirene and Sara if he thought I was the witch.
I was more concerned with waiting for his concentration to break. I needed enough time to get to my blades. All he had to do was shift his eyes in one direction or another, and I could have them out.
“You must be mistaken about what you thought you sensed or smelled,” Allonic said in a much calmer voice than I could’ve come up with. He hadn’t stopped trying to protect me, either, standing slightly in front of me.
“I’m never mistaken.” Suddenly, Ressenden flicked his wrist, and a searing, screaming pain tore through my head.
I could hardly see as I went down on my knees with my arms over my head, moaning.
“What did you do to her?” Allonic asked.
I felt him sink down by my side.
I looked up at Ressenden through tear-filled eyes.
His expression changed from hatred to surprise. “She’s a vampire,” he hissed.
“Yes! She is. Stop whatever this is. Stop it now.”
Although in the middle of my agony, I noticed the way it didn’t matter what Allonic said. He might as well have been talking to himself—and he always seemed so in control whenever it was just us.
I could see what he meant when he said he had no power. He didn’t even have a voice.
I let out another moan as a fresh wave of fiery pain crushed my head.
“What are you doing, bringing witches and vampires to our realm?” Ressenden asked in an icy, dangerous tone. “This is beyond anything I could have imagined.”
He took a step in our direction, and the surprise of finding out who I was must have been too much for his concentration.
The vise he squeezed my head in loosened a little, enough to give me the clarity I needed.
It all happened at once, in less time than it took to blink an eye.
I slid one of the longest, sharpest blades from inside my boot in a single smooth, graceful movement and pulled my arm back.
Meanwhile, evidently Allonic saw no other choice than to throw a portal—he didn’t have my weapons at his disposal and had to use what he could.
He must have seen what I was about to do because he cried out, probably to stop me, but it was too late.
I had already released the blade, and it was singing through the air on its way to Ressenden’s throat.
I never had a chance to see if it landed.
Allonic tore off his cloak and threw it around me. All I heard was a gurgling noise from Ressenden before the sensation of falling through a portal took over, and there was no more Ressenden because we weren’t in ShadesRealm anymore.
As soon as I felt solid ground underneath me, I unwrapped the cloak and glanced around. I recognized where I was right away—mostly because of the skyline all around us.
I glared at my brother. “Seriously?” I shouted over the wind. “You brought me here?”
“You said you wanted to talk to Jonah.” He got to his feet and brushed himself off.
“I didn’t say you had to bring me to their high-rise! Not like this, not right now!”
“I didn’t have much time to think, since I was trying to get us away. I was trying to protect you, but you tried to kill Ressenden, anyway.”
I got to my feet and shoved the cloak at him. “I’m sorry if I had to think fast.”
“You should’ve thought a little slower,” he grumbled as he shook the cloak out then put it on over the simple linen tunic he wore. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
My heart clenched. “Did he die? Did you see?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t get the chance to see, though it doesn’t matter. What you did will affect my life regardless, for a long time.” His face was stormy.
It was the closest he had ever come to showing raw emotion since I’d met him.
I didn’t know if I felt sorry or angry.
“He was hurting me—killing me—or did you forget that part? Was I supposed to not defend myself? Was I supposed to let him tear my head apart?”
The pain was gone, but not the memory of it. I had never felt anything like that, not ever—and I hoped I never did again.
“You didn’t have to throw that blade. I had the portal ready.”
“I didn’t have much time to think!” I had to raise my voice to make myself heard over the rushing wind.
“The things you do without thinking have real consequences for the rest of us.”
I opened my mouth to tell him he had no right to lecture me when a third voice interrupted.
“What the hell are you two doing here?”
We both turned and saw Philippa glaring at us.
12
Philippa
Talk about things I didn’t expect to find when I walked up to the roof to clear my head.
“What are you doing here?” I spat as I glared at them. “Why do you just show up here out of nowhere? Nobody asked you to be
here.”
“I didn’t realize I needed an engraved invitation to stand on a roof,” Anissa snapped.
I wanted to wipe that expression off her half-blood face. She was always so smug. She always thought she was so special.
“On this roof, you do,” I said with my hands on my hips. “So, why are you here? Who invited you?”
She put her hands on her hips, mimicking me.
I wanted to claw her eyes out.
“I need to talk to Jonah. I think that’s important enough to show up here unannounced. It’s important to all of you.”
“I doubt it.”
“You shouldn’t.”
I raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down. “It’s just you two? You and the shade? What about your electric sister?” I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I wanted to throw her off. I wanted her to lose that smug, better-than-you attitude.
And she lost it.
She lost her mind, too.
“Stop calling her that!” She hissed and lunged for me, but Allonic caught her in the nick of time and held her back.
She fought him, and for a second, I thought she would break free, but he was strong. Still, she hissed and spat.
“Stop spreading rumors about my sister! You don’t know what you’re doing! You can’t go around spreading stuff like that!”
“It’s not a rumor! I saw it myself! She caged me in electric bolts. I know it’s true.”
She shook herself free of Allonic, went to one knee then sprang back up. In her hand was a silver blade.
I remembered the sound of my flesh searing when she held a silver blade to my cheek. It was probably the same blade, too. My blood pounded with anticipation—and yeah, even with fear.
She didn’t advance on me—just holding it up and poising herself to spring was enough to freeze me in place.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your mouth and keep it that way. I want you to get Jonah for me. Right now.”
I couldn’t stop glancing at the blade and remembering the burn. It had healed—we heal fast, especially after feeding—but I made it a point not to touch my cheek if I could help it. I told myself I should probably do what she wanted and get it over with—anything, as long as she never touched me with that or any other blade again—but an idea hit me. I might be able to use the situation to my advantage.
“Fine. I’ll keep your sister and her special talents a secret as long as you do something for me.”
“Get real,” she snarled, still holding her blade up as a threat.
“It’s up to you.”
We held each other’s gaze for a long time.
I knew how much she loved Sara—why she loved her, I couldn’t imagine—and how important she was to her. I also felt I knew what she would sacrifice to keep her safe. That part I could understand because I would do the same thing for my brothers.
She blinked, and the hand holding the blade lowered an inch. “What do you want?”
“I have to find Vance. I think he’s in trouble.”
She scowled. “Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet.”
I ignored her attitude. “He can’t help whatever it is he’s doing with that hijacking bastard still inside him, but nobody else knows that. If Valerius goes too far, nobody will understand it’s not Vance who’s doing these things. He needs help.”
She shrugged. “What do you think I can bring to the table that you can’t yourself?”
“Not you.” I looked at the shade. “Him. He can throw portals.”
“Oh, hell, no.” Her voice was raised.
“It’s not up to you to answer for him,” I reminded her. “If he wants to help me, he can. And I do need the help.”
Allonic put a hand on her shoulder, and she glared up at him. “It’s not a bad idea.”
So, he was a lot more reasonable than she was.
“You don’t know exactly what she wants you to do yet,” she reminded him. “There could be conditions.”
“There aren’t any—and it’s still not your job to speak for him,” I called out.
She had control issues. Like she had to tell everybody what to do, like she always knew what was best.
It got under my skin worse than just about anything except her smugness.
He ignored me and addressed her. “This way, we’ll know Sara is safe until her problem goes away.”
Her problem? That was an understatement. They had to be talking about the lightning thing, unless there was something else I had missed.
I looked at Anissa, then back at him.
Neither of them elaborated on what they meant. I decided it didn’t matter so long as they agreed to my terms.
“We can’t trust her!” Anissa shouted.
He turned from her to me, and I did everything in my power not to shrink away from those eyes of his. They were creepy, otherworldly, like nothing I had ever seen before. Burning gold.
I wanted to tell him to keep his creepy eyes to himself but had the feeling it would be a bad idea. I still wasn’t sure whether or not he was dangerous, and I was trying to win him over to my side.
I realized he was reading me, somehow. As though he could see inside me or something.
He wanted to know if he could trust me.
I felt exposed. Vulnerable. I didn’t care for it. But I needed his help.
I kept thinking about Vance and how much I wished things had turned out differently between us. I wished I had been nicer to him when I had the chance. Could Allonic see that? I put all my desperation and fear and frustration out there for him to read.
Finally, after what felt like forever, he nodded. “She’s trustworthy. She’ll keep her promise.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, but Anissa didn’t seem so sure.
“How can you tell?” she asked.
“I have my ways.” He stared down at her. “Don’t worry.”
That didn’t help. Her expression didn’t change a bit—if anything, she appeared more worried than before.
“Fine. Whatever.” She turned to me. “But I promise, you’ll regret it if you go back on your word.” She was still holding that blade, and I wished she would put it away.
“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes—no way I was letting her see how nervous she made me. “Can you put the silver away, please?”
She smirked but did as I asked. “I need to see Jonah. Either I go down there, or you bring him up here.”
I swallowed back my distaste to keep from starting another fight. It wasn’t easy.
“I’ll bring him up now.” I glanced at Allonic, who was obviously amused by the way we kept sniping at each other. It was a change from how serious he usually looked. “Can you wait over there?” I pointed to the opposite corner of the roof, far from where we were standing.
“Why?” Anissa put her hand on Allonic’s arm to hold him back.
“Because I don’t feel like listening in on your conversation when Jonah comes up here, and I want to get going right away. Why am I explaining anything to you?”
I turned and walked away before she could make another comment and waste more of my time.
Vance needed me.
13
Jonah
I usually tried not to think too much about Anissa if I could help it. There were too many other things going on that needed my attention, and all the thought of her did was make me miserable.
When I was alone, at home, it was a different story. As soon as I stopped thinking about the clan or my family or everything we had been through, Anissa was all that was left. She was the only thing I could focus on. She was all that mattered.
It was late at night, and I was stretched out on my back, lying across my bed with an arm over my eyes. Even when I stared up at the ceiling, she was all I could see.
I wasn’t happy about that, either, which was tough to deal with. I was more pissed off than anything else when I imagined her face in my mind.
It was never this way before. I could trust the
thought of her to lift me up and give me a reason to keep moving forward. She was my reason for everything. And then she walked away. How could she do that?
Because I lied to her—or so she said.
I didn’t see it that way, and I never would. My blood boiled when I remembered how sanctimonious she had been. She didn’t know what it meant to make tough decisions, the sort of decisions a clan leader had to make every day.
There were times when being completely open and honest just wasn’t a good idea. It didn’t make me a liar. It made me a leader. She didn’t get that and wouldn’t bother trying to, either.
It was easier for her to walk away, say she needed space and time to think things over. How nice for her, that she got to decide. It didn’t matter that I needed her, or that I needed to know she was all right.
That was the worst, not knowing. What was she doing? Knowing her, she was walking into danger without thinking twice. What would she do when I wasn’t around to help her?
The memory of losing her in Sanctuary was still fresh. And why did I lose her? Because she had refused to stay put, as always. She had to do things her way. It would get her killed if she wasn’t careful. And where would I be? What could I do about it? Nothing.
I curled my hand into a fist and heard a tearing sound. I looked down to find I’d ripped a hole in the bedspread—my claws were out.
I was losing control. It was all her fault. It had to be because I’d always been in control of myself before I met her.
The knock on my door wasn’t a welcome sound.
“Can’t I have a minute to myself?” I called out. It was more of a snarl than anything else—I hoped it would be enough to discourage whoever it was.
No such luck.
“I want to talk to you. It’s important.”
I sighed. Loudly.
“It’s always important, Philippa.”
“No, I mean it. It’s really important.”
“Is it about you-know-who downstairs?” I couldn’t help it.
“No! It’s not. Let me in, damn it. You know I could break down the door if I had to, but I would rather not pay for the locksmith. Again.”
I groaned. “It isn’t locked.”