Aven waved his hand in front of Dallas’ face. “Get your rowr straight, Dallas. Follow the road, already.”
Finally, Dallas drove off, to Credence. Aven followed, pulling Dakota, the first Belief switch, with him. It didn’t seem real, and yet, it was.
They found Dallas in the kitchen, giving off a vibe that told Aven everything his friend was going through: confusion, excitement, and a sense of destiny that lit him up from the inside. The big cat might be unsettled, but he was edging all-in.
Dallas growled, his focus on his sister. “Why are you here, Dakota?”
“We need beer,” Aven interrupted.
There was beer and food in the fridge. Dakota’s stomach rumbled. Aven realized he hadn’t seen her eat anything all day. Immediately he started pulling bowls of dip out, a plate of veggies and cheese, sending Dallas to the pantry to look for chips and crackers. No way was Dakota going hungry.
Aven fixed a tray and led the way into the dining room. He turned the corner and the afternoon sun hit the glass dining room table, perfectly highlighting the breast-prints Dakota had left there when he’d fucked her. Shit.
Aven did an about-face, almost crashing into Dakota and Dallas behind him. “You know what, the couch is more comfortable.”
Dallas nodded and turned away. Aven shoved the tray into Dakota’s hands with a look she didn’t question, and went to find where Credence kept the glass cleaner.
* * *
Aven found the glass cleaner under the kitchen sink. Armed with it and a rag, he went back to the dining room. He would have felt bad about eavesdropping on Dallas and Dakota’s conversation, except they weren’t having one.
There was the crunch of vegetables, the squeak of a chair leg on the bamboo floor, but that was all. Wasn’t Dakota even going to tell her brother she was a switch?
“Your glow is stronger,” Dallas finally said.
“My what?” Dakota snapped back.
“I told you that you glowed when you were seven. You hit me with a wiffle bat.” Aven stifled a laugh at the image. Grown-up Dakota would probably like to do the same, but with the real thing.
Dallas had seen Dakota glowing all her life? That didn’t even make sense, because she hadn’t glowed three days ago.. had she? No, she hadn’t.
Aven could feel her shock from around the corner. “I… I don’t remember that.”
Another long silence. The crunch of chips. Were they done? Aven couldn’t keep polishing this glass forever.
Dakota sounded surly. “And you’re covenbound. Do you know what that means yet?”
Aven heard the genuine smile in Dallas’ reply. “I know it means I’m staying here. Which is the best news I’ve heard all week.”
Aven got the sense that it had nothing to do with Dakota.
Chapter 31 - Swan Song
Vlade VanAllen sat in his library, in his favorite leather office chair behind his massive mahogany desk, turning a small trinket over and over in his hands.
The trinket was a parting gift from their sister, Fia, given just before Zver killed her. Vlade hadn’t had time to ask her where she got it, their final meeting having been rushed and frantic with his other questions. But Vlade had his suspicions. Partly because of the things Fia had told him, but also in part because of the trinket itself.
It was driftwood, to begin with, but not ordinary. This little chunk of wood was reddish in color, dense, and had been carved in the soft way of water into a perfect heart, with a fissure running down its middle, almost cleaving it in two. The fissure was filled with a material so hard and glossy it had the look of enamel, and was also red, albeit a darker, richer shade. But even frozen in this state, Vlade recognized the scent of switch blood.
Decades now, he had carried this trinket with him, wondering at its origins and how his sister had come to possess it. Only recently had he come to realize its true power, the massive advantage Fia had given him. How Vlade wished he could go back and ask the questions that tortured him now. But he had been too stunned to do anything but watch her go, never knowing she intended to meet her death.
Truly, no vampire was dead until they were Undone by a switch, but what Zver had done had been almost as permanent. Cut off Fia’s head and put it in a jar, to be displayed forever in her perfect beauty, passed from nest to nest as a cautionary tale, an example of the worst betrayal; then burned her body to ash and scattered it at sea, the particles caught by currents of air and water, spreading her so far and wide it would take lifetimes for her to put herself back together.
All their plans, all their love. Destroyed.
He scanned the surface of his desk, where he’d only recently cleared evidence of his plans to bring Zver down. What Vlade and Fia had intended, Vlade alone would carry through. Then he would take as many switches to Hell with him as he could manage.
Vlade was not so disloyal as to want to see the covenwhores win, but he could no longer countenance Zver’s plans for his own children, their own brothers and sisters. With only four Fatherborne left now that Fia was gone, it fell to Vlade to protect the brotherborne vampires who served them, so they could finally follow through on long-postponed commands. There were bigger goals at stake than their eldest brother’s.
But Vlade would still need help, albeit unwitting. And though it pained him greatly, for they were never loyal to anyone but each other, there were none left but the twins whose assistance Vlade could enlist.
As if thinking of his siblings had conjured their presence, Vlade heard malicious laughter in the hall outside his door. A syrupy, pot-stirring voice said, “She should have known better. I told her not to do it.” Vlade recognized the voice of the younger twin, Vasyl.
A stern, raspy voice replied. The older twin, Vizier. “You said nothing of the kind.”
Vasyl’s merry laugh rang out, pealing through the hall and into the library. “You’re right. I didn’t!”
The door eased open and the twins entered. Vizier and Vasyl, children of their Father’s second daughter. Diminished, then, but still Fatherborne. And wicked little monsters they were, too. Brought up in the same household as Vlade, Zver, and Zofia, but never possessing quite the same power; it had made them brats.
They were tall and slender, like all vampires were, with lanky frames that disguised their unnatural strength. And like all Fatherborne, their hair was partly white. But where Vlade and Zver, and Fia while she had lived, each only had a thin streak of white marking them, each of the twins’ heads was fully half-white, and on opposite sides of each other. Perfect mirror images.
They would most likely betray him before all was said and done, but Vlade was prepared for that. Looked forward to it, even. He’d spent so many years half-dead already, the real thing would be a relief.
“Brothers,” he said, with a charity he did not feel, “thank you for coming.”
Vasyl and Vizier perched their skinny, fashionably-clad bums on velvet wing chairs and smiled identical patronizing smiles. Vlade waited for one of them to speak. He had called this meeting, but it wouldn’t take long for curiosity to loosen their lips.
“Zver said you were floundering, so of course we rushed right over when you called.” Vasyl’s hair was white on his left side. He was the mouthier of the twins, and could always be counted on to make mischief. Vasyl hadn’t been happy since the French Revolution, when he had single-handedly destroyed the royal court with his gossipping ways.
“We didn’t even stop to change clothes,” the older twin said, false shame dripping from his words. Vizier spoke in the raspy voice he’d had for centuries, since Zver had forced Vizier to drink acid. Vlade had expected it to kill him, but it had only scourged Vizier’s vocal cords and made it painful for him to feed.
Vizier had not been happy since the Spanish Inquisition, when his sadistic impulses had enjoyed free indulgence. He’d even been lauded by religious leaders for his effectiveness in drawing out confessions. If they’d only known who they were endorsing.
“Indeed,�
�� Vlade affirmed, grimacing at the blood spattered on their clothes. The twins reveled in their hedonistic feeding habits, but even more so in making Vlade uncomfortable with their lack of dignity.
Nevertheless, he needed their help. Vlade tucked the wooden heart in his pocket, not at all missing the way Vizier’s eyes followed the movement.
“The switches have opened another coven,” he began, watching his brothers’ faces for their reactions. Vasyl appeared scandalized, while Vizier looked bored. Vlade suspected they didn’t much care what happened with The Cause of the Forest, as long as they emerged from it higher in the pecking order.
He shared only enough to whet their appetites. No need for them to know how the trinket had called Vlade to the forest, nor what he’d seen as he’d phazed from vantage point to vantage point on his initial visit. No need for anyone to know about that first visit.
But the second… “I had an encounter with a new switch, different from the three at the mine, and that bastard eagle who attacked me there.”
Vasyl was, of course, the more outraged of the two. “That eagle, again? The one who dared attack you, as if you couldn’t slice his talons off one by one with a bloodblade?”
Vizier’s dry tease was barely audible. “You do like to go for the feet.”
Vasyl ignored him. “So rude, Vlade, how he chased you into your car. I don’t know how you resisted killing the feathered freak.”
Vizier broke in, his tone dripping with sympathy. “Not to mention how Zver raved at you. As if it was your fault the trap you set didn’t kill even one switch or shifter.”
The bitter taste of humiliation rose up in Vlade’s throat. Zver had ranted and screamed for an hour.
Vasyl’s wheedling voice broke into his thoughts. “It was very brave of you, brother, pointing out his mistake.” He smiled in Vlade’s direction, the same smile he wore before a feed, and Vlade knew he would pay for speaking against Zver.
But it was Zver’s own command that Vlade give the switches enough time to kill all the brotherborne in the mine, leaving no witnesses to their unwilling self-sacrifice, that had resulted in the failure. Had Vlade blown the mine sooner, some of the brotherborne might have survived, but The Cause would have been devastated.
Zver had not liked hearing that truth. The twins would be sure to help Zver remember who had delivered it.
Vasyl was tense, a hungry look in his eyes. “Tell us what the eagle looks like, Vlade. Did you see him as a human? We’ll gut him for you and bring his beak back for a trophy.” The bloodlust in Vasyl’s eyes told Vlade it might have been better if the twins hadn’t come straight from a feed. They were still caught up in the rush of fresh blood.
Vizier’s mouth pulled to one side, his version of a smile. He sneered at Vasyl in conspiratorial glee. “Remember the owl, brother?”
Vasyl clapped his hands, rapturous with memories. “Oh, the owl! Such fun! And then the bears, so soon after.” Then his pale face fell and his eyes cut to Vlade’s. They had found out recently that the twins’ decades-old attack on “the bears” hadn’t gone as perfectly as they thought. Just weeks ago, Vlade’s leg had nearly been ripped off by a survivor of that encounter.
He waved a dismissive hand at the twins. “Your concern is touching. But I need assistance of another kind. We cleared the larders in the mines, but the blood supply is yet to be moved to its new home.”
Vizier wagged a finger in Vlade’s direction. “Another stroke of genius, charming the final human to run when you saw the eagle watching.”
Vlade tipped his head in false modesty. His trap had worked perfectly, up until the end.
“The only place we had to keep them was Garner’s old penthouse, right in the middle of town, but now the caves are ready. You must move them while I attend to our brother’s more urgent requests, then lift their charm,” Vlade instructed.
Vizier’s cold, gray eyes were still and expressionless, as they so often were. Vasyl flailed dramatically on the chair beside him and whined, “To the caves? I sincerely hope you don’t expect us to stay there.” His petulant expression said that Vlade might have suggested wearing off-the-rack clothing instead of visiting his tailor four times a year.
Vlade laughed good-naturedly. Spoiled little monster. “Father’s sake, of course not. There will be brotherborne there, they simply need your oversight to get the larder properly stocked.” And Vlade needed the twins far away for a few days, so he could take a journey of his own without anyone knowing. He would have to move fast now, and that meant minimizing every risk he could, to compensate for the ones made larger by speed. “You may, of course, each choose a favorite from the offerings, to phaze back with you, for your own personal larders.”
That pleased Vizier, as Vlade had known it would. Like their eldest brother, Vizier had a habit of running through his playthings quickly. A fresh, free meal was nothing to turn up his nose at, especially since restricting them was Zver’s favorite punishment for the older Twin. And once Zver had Vizier, Vasyl was sure to follow.
Sure enough, the older twin looked at his younger brother with a pleasant expression. “We would be delighted to assist you, of course.” He shrugged his shoulder in a careless way, adding. “We could kill the eagle for you while we’re at it, if you like. While we’re there.”
Another mention of the eagle? Vlade didn’t react, but it was strange for Vizier, who maintained at all times an almost extreme boredom with and detachment from all things Cause-related, to even acknowledge the shifters’ existence. Much less an individual shifter.
Vlade stood and came around the desk. The twins rose as well, and Vlade clapped Vizier on the shoulder. “I appreciate the offer, and only wish I could tell you more about him. One eagle looks the same as any other, to me. Kill them all, if it suits you.”
Vizier shrugged under Vlade’s hand, his disinterested stare not having twitched. “Perhaps, if this task bores me, which it most certainly will.” He fluttered one hand in Vlade’s direction. “Surely wherever you are going is more interesting than what you’re asking of us.”
Vlade shook his head and said, sympathetically, “You would hate it, brother. There might be snow.”
Vizier’s face crumpled as if he’d smelled a bad cheese. “Why would you go anywhere there might be snow?” He looked over his shoulder and mugged at his twin, and for a moment Vlade thought he saw something in Vasyl’s eyes before they resumed their usual cruel lights.
A feeling of suspicion he knew could tend toward paranoia flickered to life in Vlade’s belly. Did the twins know about Lansing? But how could they? No, that was impossible. Must be their usual bad jokes.
He saw the twins out of his library, Vasyl already making plans for mischief that night. Vlade called out as they moved down the hall, away from him, “Don’t delay your task too long. Our brother expects to see those caves populated within days.”
Vizier turned to walk backward and gave Vlade a sarcastic salute. Vlade turned to his library, pulling Fia’s heart trinket from his pocket once more, rubbing his finger over the switch blood inside it, feeling for any signs of warmth like had called him to the forest the day before.
Nothing. He closed the door and leaned his back against the sturdy wood, letting go a breath from his stale lungs.
There was truly no time to waste. The last thing Vlade wanted was to have to evade the twins’ as well as Zver’s scrutiny. God forbid the three work together against him.
If that happened, Vlade would be dead before he ever found Fia’s child.
Chapter 32 - Under Their Wing
Dakota woke up thrashing the next morning, her legs tangled in the sheets, panic choking her as she struggled to free herself. The cold, rushing water from her dream still pulled at her legs, tears like rain on her cheeks. The frantic need to shift still clawed at her mind.
She got her legs untangled and sat still, looking around, breathing her heart rate down.
Dakota was alone, in “her” Belief Coven bed. She wasn’t real
ly a… she was a… she couldn’t say it. She wouldn’t say it. It was morning, but she felt like she’d barely closed her eyes. Nightmares had jerked her away again and again.
She padded into her swanky bathroom and looked at her puffy face in the mirror. She should have let Aven stay. He’d offered, last night, but she’d turned him down. Dakota still wasn’t sure why.
Because you’re five kinds of fucked in the head already.
Dakota shuffled out of her room, still in her pajamas, in hot pursuit of coffee. The doorbell rang. They had a doorbell? She scooted down the hallway and peeked around the end, at the front wall of glass.
Three women stood outside. One of them was Cora. The other two must be Breath switches, too. All three were short, close to five feet, with slim-hipped, small-boned frames.
One of the switches standing next to Cora had brown skin and a head of gorgeous, glossy black curls that gave her a fun-loving look. She wore navy-blue cigarette pants, a white camisole top, and fantastic yellow patent leather pumps that Dakota wanted to snatch right off her too-tiny feet. The other had straight blonde hair and a girl-next-door look, in well-worn jeans with a kelly-green t-shirt and white canvas tennis shoes.
Gah, they looked so normal. What the hell did they want? With a sinking feeling in her gut, Dakota realized exactly what they wanted. They wanted to see her. The new switch.
One of them pressed her face against the glass and saw Dakota. She shouted to be heard through the glass. “We’ve all been there! Open up!”
Dakota opened the door. The blonde smiled right at Dakota, a gentle smile. “I’m Goldie. We thought you might have questions.”
“Plus, we’re nosy as hell.” Killer Shoes switch stuck out her hand, and Dakota shook it. “I’m Gemma.”
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