by Rye Brewer
Cari couldn’t stop talking about everything we’d seen, and I couldn’t stop smiling. She was like a little girl, flushed and grinning from ear to ear. I would’ve taken her back there every single day, solely to see her so happy. It felt as though we were truly turning a corner in our relationship—and her new life. It was possible for her to be happy with more than hunting, especially since she needed it less and less as her hunger became easier to control.
She linked her arm with mine and leaned against me as we strolled through the dark streets, still vibrant with the city’s nightlife.
“No matter how much grief I’ve given you since we got here, I want you to know I consider myself lucky to be with you. I’m glad it was you I found that night outside the club—or, that you found me, rather.”
“In spite of what happened because of it?”
The Euro-shifters would never have done what they did if it hadn’t been for me. She could’ve still been living as a human, with a cat, and an apartment, and a future as a normal woman.
“I’m happier now than I was then. I mean that. It’s easy for me to act like a child when I’m feeling frustrated or confused or guilty about what I’ve done here in Paris. Overall, when I’m thinking rationally, I’m loving you, and I’m grateful for the sacrifice you made.”
I stopped and cupped the side of her face in my hand, kissing her gently in front of everyone on the sidewalk. Not that it mattered—I’d seen more couples exchanging embraces and kisses in the past couple of weeks to last a lifetime. It was affirming, really. A reminder that love took many forms.
“I do love you,” I whispered, touching my forehead to hers. “I would do it again and again if it meant having you in the world. Without you, there would be no reason to breathe.”
We walked on, a little more slowly, with my arm around her shoulders. After a while, she murmured, “That reminds me of something Micah said.”
My arm went stiff, though I made a point to keep my voice sounding carefree. “Oh? What did he say?”
“He told me about Georgina. What a sad story. He loved her so much.”
“Yes. He did.” I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “What else did he tell you?”
“Nothing much more than that. He told me about her death, and how lonely and heartbroken he’s been ever since.” She shivered. “That was what reminded me of what you had sacrificed for me, and that I couldn’t take it for granted. I had to find you after that. I suppose I should thank him for reminding me what really matters.”
“I’ll thank him for you,” I promised, kissing the top of her head while sour bile rose in my throat.
I saw exactly what he was trying to do, even if she didn’t. It was probably better that she didn’t. She could stay innocent and believe the best about him.
She didn’t have to understand all he’d been doing was playing on her sympathies as a way to draw her that much closer. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have added all the loneliness and heartbreak and such. He would’ve encouraged her to find me instead of telling her his sob story.
Not that I discounted what he’d been through. But it was painfully obvious he wanted Cari.
Amazing, the way I’d been so grateful to him for taking us in, and how fondly I had remembered him. And how much I was beginning to hate him.
I had one of three options to choose from. I could confront him, which would inevitably lead to fighting and saying things we couldn’t take back, and would mean having to leave. I could let it go, which was against everything in my nature. No way was I about to let him make a fool of me, courting my woman right in front of me as though I were some sort of joke. Or, I could take her and get the hell out of Paris.
A very risky decision, too. While I didn’t doubt we could survive successfully, the two of us, I did doubt the odds of her willingly going with me.
It would take a little work to extricate her from the clan. I’d seen how close she was with Naomi, especially, the two of them always giggling together. Cari had a sweet personality and naturally drew people to her. This would serve her in Rome, though, or wherever we decided to settle.
It was Micah who worried me. And her feelings for him.
By the time we reached the catacombs, my temper was near the breaking point.
Cari didn’t seem to notice—still enamored by the memory of what we’d seen at the museum. “Did you want to hunt tonight?” she asked.
No, I didn’t, though tearing the throat out of a human might help quell some of my anger. But the satisfaction wouldn’t last long, since it wouldn’t be the throat I really wanted to shred. Still, he would be looking for any opportunity to spent time alone with her. He’d already opened the door to a new level of intimacy in their relationship by telling her about Georgina. It was only a matter of time before he went all-in with his seduction.
“Certainly. I want to speak with Micah for a bit before we go.”
“Great—and let him know we’re going, too, in case he wants to come along.” She stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against mine, a sweet smile lighting her up when she finished. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Always.” I was genuinely happy as I watched her walk down the tunnel which led to our room—once she disappeared, however, it was another story.
I marched down the next tunnel, the one which led to Micah. He’d be there, likely waiting for us to return.
And he was. He sat in a chair with a book open in his lap. When he heard me enter the room, he glanced up with a smile which I knew had been intended for her, one which faded when he saw who truly wanted a minute of his time.
Damn him.
“It’s long past time for us to talk, old friend.”
He gazed up at me with something like surprise, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. They were knowing, almost expectant. He’d known this was coming. He had to.
“What can I do for you, Gage?”
He reclined in his chair, extending his long legs until they crossed at the ankles on a padded footrest. His hands were folded over his midsection, fingers tapping against the backs of his knuckles.
I wanted to break every single one of those tapping fingers, letting me know how bored he already was with a conversation which hadn’t yet begun.
It didn’t have to begin, did it? Not when he knew what he was in for.
“What do you honestly think is going to happen with Cari? I mean, really. What do you think you’re doing to her?”
“I don’t think I’m doing anything to her. I’ve only ever been friendly, kind—”
“Oh, yes. Friendly and kind.” I clenched my fists against the rising tide of rage. “Why don’t you drop the pretense and admit you want her?”
His gaze was as cold as any I’d ever seen. “I want her.”
“How dare you?”
“How dare I?” He was up in one quick movement, standing eye-to-eye with me. “How dare I? You bring her here, beg me for assistance. I grant you that assistance, I grant you sanctuary which never would’ve been granted me when our positions were reversed.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you could’ve done something to help me back then, damn you.”
I held his gaze, glaring at him as my mind raced. What was he talking about? I couldn’t come up with anything.
“What are you talking about? I gave you the money to get you out of the country. You would’ve died in America. They would’ve found you.”
“I know that. And you could’ve bent your father’s ear if you’d tried.”
I let out a sigh when the sad, painful truth hit me. “So that’s it. All these years, you’ve labored under the delusion there was something I could’ve done to spare you.”
“Or Georgina, at the very least. She deserved to live.” He nearly shook with barely-suppressed emotion.
I remembered her. She was a lovely girl, and she’d loved him.
“What makes you think I didn’t speak to my father about you two
?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You assume I never did, but you’re wrong.”
“You’re lying,” he sneered, eyes searching my face for the truth.
“I’m not. I pleaded with him on your behalf. I begged him to speak to Lucian and stand up for you. The girl was going to be your wife. She wasn’t to be used as a slave, she wasn’t stolen from her family for the sake of being your consort. You did what you did out of love for her.”
“I did,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
“I know now what I didn’t know then,” I explained. “Lucian hated my parents, my father especially. I don’t know if my father ever went to Lucian when I asked him to—but even if he had given his opinion, that the two of you should live, Lucian would’ve overruled him simply on principle. Lucian is dead now, I’m glad to say. He was a bloodthirsty, ruthless monster. He’s the one who killed Georgina. Not my father, not me.”
“It’s so easy for you to say that now, isn’t it? There’s no way you can prove you tried to act on my behalf. Even if you did, it didn’t do me—or her—any good.”
“I didn’t speak to Dommik for nearly a year after she died,” I admitted. “It may have been more than that. The memory is a bit faded now.”
“Poor you. Georgina didn’t speak to anyone because she was burned to death.”
I cringed. “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think it haunted me, knowing there was nothing I could do to help my best friend? But I did what I could, damn it. I helped you get away. I did save you.”
“Oh, yes. What a sacrifice you made, too. As though you didn’t have all the money in the world. Throw a few bucks to your friend and send him on his way—along with your guilt.”
He pressed his hands to my shoulders and shoved me against the wall, a surprise move which took my breath away and sent books clattering to the floor around me.
I rebounded quickly, throwing myself at him, slamming him into the wall with my hand around his throat. “I did not come here as your enemy, but you’re creating an enemy through your stupidity.”
He only smiled, even as the pressure from my hand began cutting off his air. “All the money and connections you have aren’t enough to keep someone like Cari. You’ll see for yourself.”
Hatred seeped from him, poisoning the air around us. I could hardly believe my eyes or my ears. And I thought he was my friend for so long. Those days were over. He’d agreed to help me, but that had been before he first laid eyes on Carissa. All bets were off once that had happened.
I let go of him and wiped my hands on my pants. “I’ll be leaving, then. And I’m taking her with me.”
He shook his head. “I promised you could stay here, under the clan’s protection.”
“What is wrong with you?” I almost laughed. It was all so ridiculous. “Why would I stay here? You’ve made it plain you resent me for what happened back then. I can never trust you now. I’ll start looking into other arrangements immediately.”
“What about her?” he asked as I was leaving.
There was a note of desperation in his voice. Did he love her? No, that wasn’t possible. He didn’t have it in him to love. Not somebody like Cari.
Even so, I wouldn’t rub it in his face. “I’ll wait until my plans are solidified before I tell her about it. But we will be leaving as soon as possible.”
33
Anissa
“So, that’s your plan?” I asked Fane as we walked down the stairs together. “You’re going to Duskwood?”
“I am.”
“I wish I felt confident that this was a good idea,” I admitted.
“It’s a lucky thing you don’t have to come with me, then.” He kept his tone light, friendly, but there was an edge to it.
He was reminding me this was none of my business, only not in so many words.
I received the message loud and clear, all the same.
“I can’t help but be concerned. You’re Jonah’s father.”
And I’ve already seen what can happen when you rush headlong into a plan without thinking it through. I wouldn’t have spoken that out loud, but it was the truth.
“I appreciate your concern, but I have things well in hand now.”
Did he?
We reached the entry hall, where Elena’s body still rested. Scott was kneeling over it, his hand on top of hers. When he registered our presence, he shot Fane a nasty look.
Oh, yes, things were well in hand.
I pulled Fane aside. “What about him?”
He frowned. “I see no choice but to bring him along, whether he wants to come along or not.”
“How’s that?”
“If I allow him the freedom to return home, I run the risk of him telling everyone he meets about what went on here.”
I glanced Scott’s way, considering this. “Do you think he would?”
“Before the scene he caused out in the courtyard, I wouldn’t have imagined he was capable of anything like it. I clearly don’t know him as well as I thought I did.”
“None of us do, so don’t be too hard on yourself. I’m sure Sara wouldn’t have imagined it, and the two of them were joined at the hip for months.”
“Do you doubt, then, he would spread the word of my… change?” He averted his eyes.
I could feel his pain. It wasn’t as though I’d ever dare mention it or ask him about it, but it was there.
The elephant in the room, as the saying went.
“No. I don’t doubt it, though I wish I could.” I felt horrible for him.
He couldn’t trust his son. Hatred was what did that. And immaturity.
He shook his head, appearing mournful. “I can hardly blame him. If anything, I blame myself.”
I could only sigh and wish it were possible to shake sense into him. “You can’t blame yourself for everything. I know how it feels to heap blame upon myself—there have been too many times when I did the same thing. But you aren’t responsible for your son’s actions.”
“He’s the youngest. He never got as much attention as the others. Gage and Jonah, well that was a battle between them, who would lead. One was older in human years, the other was turned first.” He shrugged.
I knew of his dilemma. I’d seen the friction between Jonah and Gage firsthand.
“Philippa was my shining light,” he continued with a smile.
It was difficult for me to think sourly about her when I saw how much her father loved her. It was written all over his face and in the way his voice softened when he spoke of her.
“My clever girl. Sharp and charming and always able to make me laugh, even when clan business had me tied up in knots. I favored her. I admit that. So Scott…” He shrugged. “He fell by the wayside, and I feel terrible about that. To a degree, I take this upon myself.”
There was no arguing with him.
All I could say was, “I’m sorry this is happening. Scott is far into adulthood and is responsible for his actions, but I understand why you would feel badly about it.”
He looked at the back of his son’s head with a fondness I couldn’t begin to understand in the light of everything that had transpired. “Not only that, but I want the chance to repair what’s between us. I can’t leave things like this.”
“Do you really think making him go to Duskwood with you will help you repair things? He’ll only resent being told what to do.”
“There’s as good a chance there as there is if he were to return to the penthouse and had a chance to brood.”
Which meant there was no chance at all. But I couldn’t say that. There was so much I wished I could say. I wished I could spare him what I saw coming his way. It wasn’t my job to do that. I had to learn when to mind my business.
When I looked to Sara, across the room but clearly straining to hear whatever she could, it was clear she agreed with my thoughts, by the way her eyes narrowed. Warning me.
“Can you take me to the penthouse before you go to Duskwood? I need to get out of this place
and back where things make even a modicum of sense.”
“And I would rather have you away from all of this. It’s not only Philippa’s happiness I want. It’s Jonah’s—and yours. It might be a better idea to go to headquarters, however.”
“Why is that?”
“He should be there—I sent him, with Sirene, to take care of some business.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can course to the city if I have to.”
I couldn’t have been more eager to get as far away from this terrible place as possible. Elewyn could bring out the sun and make things as beautiful as she wanted, but it would never be anything but a prison island full of pain. The energy would never be anything but desperate and dark. “And in case I forget to say this later: thank you. It feels weak and pitiful in the face of everything you’ve done to protect me, but it needs to be said. I wish I could do more for you.”
“You may get your chance one day, Anissa. Our paths will cross again, of course.”
I hoped so. I hoped he wasn’t placing too much faith in things going his way, in Elazar playing nice. Or in Scott letting him get through their new adventure without getting into even more trouble.
“Let me say goodbye to my sister?”
He stepped aside, and I went to her.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
“You should know. You’ve been listening in all along.”
“Super hearing isn’t one of my new abilities,” she muttered.
I threw my arms around her and squeezed tight. Why did it always feel as though I might be saying my last goodbyes whenever I parted ways with somebody I cared for?
“Please, be careful.” I pulled away and looked her in the eye. “You know what I mean.”
I meant Elewyn. I meant spending time with someone as obviously ruthless as her. Alone. Stark waited off to the side—I waved him over.
“You’re still leaving?” I asked, wishing he would say no.
“Yes. I’ll go to Hallowthorn Landing. That’s the condition.” He glanced at Sara. “And it’s what she wants.”
“It is.” She met my gaze and held it. “It really is.”