by Unknown
The narrow space between the buildings lit with an unnatural light. Sam flinched again, narrowing her eyes to protect them from the light. Jason examined her burns as though they had not just been fighting.
“That was stupid,” he muttered, half to himself. “Dziedēt.”
Sam winced again as her face suddenly began to itch. Within seconds the sensation faded. She reached up to feel her cheek just as Jason caught her wrist in his warm grip.
“Leave it be,” he ordered. “The spell needs time to set.”
“Why did you heal me? And why did you trap me in that spell in the first place?” she demanded, deciding that was a more important question.
Within the confines of the narrow walls, and with his large body pressed up against her, she wasn’t nearly as cold as she had been out on the busy street. She was still cold, but not on the verge of hypothermia.
“You were trying to escape. I was just trying to help.”
Sam tensed, suddenly aware of his body pressed against her and the power radiating off him. At present her magical tank was full, but that didn’t mean her gift wasn’t occasionally taking a small sip from him—topping off. Jason didn’t seem to mind.
He grinned down at her.
“You like that?” he asked.
She forced her features into a glare.
“Sam?” called a voice from the entrance of the tiny alleyway.
Sam cringed—how the hell does he always seem to know where I am?—before relaxing her face into a blank stare and turning her head to address Roman. She couldn’t turn her body. There wasn’t enough room with Jason trapped between her and the next wall.
“Yes?” she asked blandly.
“Is everything okay here?” he asked, his eyes locked on Jason.
“Everything’s fine, Mr. Hunt. Thank you.”
Sam winced inwardly, but kept her face blank. She didn’t like speaking so formally to Roman, but she hoped Jason was too focused on her to notice that Roman was a mage, and not from the Res. Sam released her gift, allowing it to take as much from Jason as her tank would allow. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to draw his attention back on her.
“Well, if I’m not needed…”
“Good night, Mr. Hunt,” Sam said, dismissing him.
Roman walked away, his shoulders stiff.
“What was that about?” Jason asked a moment later.
“Old boyfriend,” Sam lied.
“He looks like someone from outside of the Res.”
“He is, but his company contracts within. I finally got fed up with his high-and-mighty way. Douche-bag,” she added for effect. “Thank you for healing me. Now may I go?”
“The fed’s aren’t done yet. You go back out on the street in your pajamas and on the cold pavement”—he paused to lift her up and rest her frozen toes onto his boots—“You’re going to freeze to death. Why won’t you let me help you?”
Sam swallowed, focusing on her tattoo. She had to get a grip on her powers if she was going to stay around Jason any longer. Granted, even after his multiple spells and the power she had drained from him, he appeared to be as strong as the moment he had placed the flannel on her shoulders. Was it possible? Could he really be more powerful than Roman?
Sam wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
Chapter Ten
“Look, Sam,” said Jason, “I’m just trying to help.”
Sam squirmed against his body. “Ha!”
“What’s so hard to believe about that?”
“I guess I just struggle believing a mage would help a Void.”
“I can handle an untrained Void like yourself in my sleep.”
Sam tried not to feel the sting of his words, but even in the cold of the night she felt her cheeks flush with a deep blush. She knew there was more to being a Void, a true Void, but being a half-fae trapped within the Res had stunted her skills. If she knew how to use up her magic faster she could have drained Jason within seconds. Then again, she wasn’t sure she wanted that sort of power.
“If you were trying to help, you would have told me what’s in your grimoire,” she said.
She was grasping at straws. She knew it, but she also knew he was holding something back.
Before either of them could say anything, they heard the squeal of the megaphone as the captain of the FMB began to speak. Jason leaned back, taking his warmth with him. Sam squeezed past him. When she reached the opening of the tiny alleyway, she slipped out of his plaid flannel shirt and handed it to him, eyeing him one last time before disappearing into the crowd.
She weaved through the mob, heading in the general direction of Heywood’s house, the sooner to duck into the warmth of his home. Another hot shower would be in order, assuming there was any hot water left in Heywood’s little water heater.
“All right, here’s the deal,” he said, “the rest of you go home, but you vamps listen up. All blood rations are being reduced by twenty percent.”
The officer paused to wait for the crowd’s complaints to die down.
“Your curfew will now be three a.m. Check points will be positioned at the places marked on the maps being handed out. Transgressions that used to result in one day in solitary confinement will now result in the usual punishment as well as half rations for three days. The rest of the increased punishments are outlined on the back of your maps. Increased security will be…”
The officer droned on, but Sam didn’t wait to see what would happen next. She raced up the steps and stumbled through Heywood’s door before Breena could return to her post. The werewolf cursed at her as she hobbled up the steps on her frozen feet.
Sam was just coming out of the bathroom, her hands and toes burning as they warmed up, when Heywood appeared on the landing.
“How bad?” she asked as she toweled her hair.
He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “They’re mad. Nearly broke out into a riot. I was barely able to calm my guys down. Peyton got his guys calm too.”
Sam frowned. “You think Peyton’s behind this?”
Heywood paused a second before shaking his head. “Peyton’s suffering as much as I am. He wouldn’t want this sort of scrutiny on the vamps. No. Whoever’s doing this is a rogue, I guarantee it.”
A dissenting thought tickled the back of her mind, but the more she tried to pin it down, the more allusive it grew. Finally, Sam shrugged it off and sauntered into her room, ready to sleep the day away.
Her head had barely hit the pillow—it had only been a second—before she was rudely shaken awake. Sam would have sworn she hadn’t even reached a point of true sleep.
“What time is it,” she growled up at the Breena.
“Six thirty…p.m.” the werewolf growled back, equally angry to be awake. “Your visitor is waiting outside.”
“Who is it?” asked Sam, considering sending a message down to tell them to go “screw themselves.”
“Some girl. How should I know?” With that Breena stormed off.
Some girl? Sam groaned as an inkling formed in her bleary mind. She rolled out of bed, grabbed her sweatshirt off her bed frame, and dragged it over her head. Her white hair was pointing in every direction but she didn’t care. Sam opened the door and, just as she had expected, found Amber standing on the other side, garbed in her winter jacket and homemade hat and mittens.
Snow was falling in gentle wisps, standing out against the sky.
“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice harsh with half-contained emotion.
“Sure, come in.”
Amber eyed the entryway as though she might become a vampire just by crossing the threshold. Sam raised an eyebrow in her own judgement of her lost friend.
“Come outside.”
“No,” said Sam. “I spent half the night outside in my pajamas, nearly getting hypothermia. You want to talk to me you can come inside. The vampires are asleep, if that’s what you’re worried about. But then again, you already knew that. As to your reputation… well, that I don’t give a d
amn about.”
Amber glowered at her and stomped inside, glanced around the entryway. Sam led her back into the kitchen where they could have a little privacy, assuming Breena had stayed awake in an effort to overhear their conversation.
“What were you doing with Jason last night?” Amber asked out of nowhere.
“He was forced out of his apartment, like the rest of us in this neighborhood during the raid. When he saw me without a jacket or shoes he gave me his flannel shirt. He was just trying to keep me warm. We talked a little about the attacks that have been happening on the fae and how they may relate to the vampires that attacked him for his grimoire. At that point we had a… conflict of powers.” Sam paused but continued before Amber could say anything. “He won. Then the feds let us go home. That’s it.”
Amber stared at her, seemingly amazed that Sam had answered her honestly. Sam had nothing to hide from Amber, though she was surprised to find Amber the jealous type. Did her ex-friend really think Sam would try to steal her lover away? Even if she wanted to, what mage would take a Void?
Except for Roman, that annoying voice amended.
“Really, Amber? You thought I would try to seduce your man?”
Amber stared at the floor, looking as though she had sucked on a lemon. “I went to see him this morning. Your scent was all over him.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Like I said, our powers clashed. I don’t know what sort of mage he is, but I suspect my scent mixing with his comes from the magic. Trust me. Nothing happened. Do I smell like him?”
“You smell like soap.”
Sam shrugged. “I did take a shower when I got back. But then again I was on the verge of hypothermia. If it weren’t for your Jason I would have died last night.” The final statement seemed to mollify Amber.
“I owe him my life,” repeated Sam for good measure.
Amber glanced around the kitchen.
“You living here now?”
“Parents kicked me out.”
“What!” snapped Amber.
“I lost my job and my dad kicked me out.”
“Sam, this is ridiculous!”
“Shush!” hissed Sam.
“Quit this obsession with the vampires,” whispered Amber after a quick glance at the closed door, “and go apologize to you parents. I’m sure they’d take you back.”
“It’s not an obsession.”
“Then what is it?”
Sam felt the pressure build behind her eyes. She needed to tell someone, anyone about the reason she was staying with Heywood. But if he was awake, the door alone would not be enough to hide their voices.
“Let’s get a drink,” she said as she crossed to the sink and turned on the water, motioning for Amber to follow.
She was about to cross a line, but she couldn’t help it. Sam couldn’t take the loneliness or the accusation in Amber’s eyes a moment longer.
Ducking down so their heads were near the flowing water she whispered, “Heywood knows about Carl’s tech. He’s blackmailing me. If I don’t work for him he’ll expose Carl.”
Amber gasped.
“Carl would likely be executed. And what would happen to his mother?”
Amber let out a long, tired sigh before running her hand through her long, wavy brown hair. She shifted her gaze off Sam and onto the running water, watching the wasted water swirl down the sink and into the drain.
Sam held her breath, waiting for Amber’s response.
“I’m sorry, Sam.”
Amber shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders, nearly obscuring her face. She brushed it back and turned to look at Sam.
“I had no idea,” she continued. “I… had I known…Just… I mean…”
Sam felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over. Amber had once known all of this. In fact, she had helped Sam with the original plot that had gotten her into the mess with Heywood in the first place, but Heywood had insisted Sam used borrowed power to wipe Amber’s memory of that past. Even now, Sam couldn’t tell her that. She had to pretend that this was the first time Amber was hearing all this.
“Amber,” said Sam, cutting her off, “this is not your responsibility. I chose not to come to you. That’s on me. And I was wrong for hiding it from you. I’m sorry I kept this a secret.”
Amber grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed it. “No apologies necessary. I know why you did it. But now that I know, I think you need to back out. I love Carl, but he made this mess. It’s not your job to protect him.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You just gonna throw your life away for him?”
Sam shrugged. “Kinda already did.”
Amber let out another long sigh. “Sam, this is idiotic!”
“Oh gee, feelin’ the love,” replied Sam with equal heat.
“You can’t protect him.”
“I have to try.”
“It’s not your job,” repeated Amber.
“So what?” asked Sam. “I just let him die, let his mom die of a broken heart?”
Amber planted her fists on her hips, her anger returned. “You can’t be the hero of everyone else’s story. He got himself into this mess.”
And with that, she turned and stormed out again.
“So much for the ‘kiss and make up’ scene,” Sam mumbled as she slid down the smooth front of the cabinet and rested her head in her hands, listening to the water flow through the pipes. The sound masked the nearly silent tread as Breena slipped into the kitchen and stared down at Sam.
“What?” the werewolf sneered. “Someone else hates you? What’s new?”
Sam rolled her eyes up at the other woman, allowing all her pain and anger to peek through her eyes. To her own personal disgust, she enjoyed the way Breena took a step back. The werewolf was smart enough to fear her but not wise enough to keep her mouth shut.
“Your only friend can’t stand you,” Breena added before she could censure herself.
Sam snapped, her exhausted control breaking as her gift streaked out and brought the werewolf to her knees. Within minutes, Sam had her gift well under control, back within the confines of her tattoo and her own personal cage.
“Don’t mess with the bigger wolf, Breena.”
“You’re not a wolf,” croaked the other woman, sounding as though she had gone three days without water.
“I’m not anything,” Sam told the floor.
She listened with werewolf-strong hearing to the sounds of Breena crawling out of the kitchen and kicking the door shut. She felt the call of the werewolf magic to change into wolf form, and she could too, with all the power she had drained from Breena, but it would hurt like a wolf’s first transformation and wasn’t worth it. So she stayed slumped on the kitchen floor, listening to the water dribble down the pipes.
Long before she was ready to receive visitors and well after the werewolf magic had drained from her system, the door creaked open again. Sam snapped her eyes up, ready to repeat the same punishment on anyone who dared harass her. The barest sliver of Breena’s face appeared in the crack, her eyes downcast in a submissive pose.
“You’re friend’s here to see you again,” she said, just above a whisper.
Sam rolled her eyes before pushing herself onto her feet. She flipped the tap off, feeling a little guilty for wasting that much water. No doubt the FMB would be yelling at Heywood for that one.
She followed Breena to the front door where Amber stood just within the threshold, looking as sheepish as Breena.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said, staring at Sam’s knees. “But there’s been another murder. Mr. Newberry said to go get you.”
“Let me get my coat.”
“I’ll get it,” offered Breena, already halfway up the stairs.
She returned a moment later with Sam’s leather jacket, her shoes, and her black beanie. Another minute and Sam and Amber were marching silently down the sidewalk toward the main road. They continued in silence until they reached Mr. Newberry’s building. It was unoffi
cially considered the elite building among the fae. If the killers had reached these fae, then anyone was prone to an attack.
They were just about to reach for the door when it burst open.
“There you are,” Chad said as he came out, taking up a stance beside Sam. “My dad sent me to see what was taking so long.”
“We came as fast as we could,” Amber said, her brows pulling together in an expression Sam recognized as the one she used when she was sensing an unusual emotion.
“Oh. Um… can I talk to Sam for a moment?”
Amber glanced at Sam, seeing if her friend wanted her to play interference. Sam gave her a relaxed shrug.
“Sure. I’ll see you guys inside,” Amber said before opening the door.
Chad waiting until the door had closed, while Sam wrapped her arms around her chest. It was too cold to have the conversation outside, but if it was about anything romantic in nature, Sam wasn’t interested in having an audience.
“What’s up?” she asked when Chad still hadn’t spoken.
“I was just wondering if you’d had a chance to think about our last talk?”
Sam gave him a blank stare. She knew what he meant, but considering she had flat out told him “no” she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to have thought about.
“About us…” he added when she didn’t reply.
“I told you last time we talked that we broke up and I’m not interested in getting back together with you. What was I supposed to think about?” she asked matter-of-factly.
Chad gaped at her. “You may not want to get back together but I’m in love with you, so this doesn’t just go away.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you in love with me?”
Again, Chad just stared at her.
“If you’re in love with me, then I think you should be able to tell me why you love me. What about me, the Void, makes you love me.”
“Uhh… well you’re fun to be around. You make me happy. You put up with my antics.”
“No I don’t,” Sam replied before he could say more. “Remember, I broke up with you.”
Chad let out a put-upon sigh. “Fine. You still make me happy, or at least you did before you broke up with me.”