by Bella Jacobs
But Kite is behind me with a steadying hand on my shoulder. I can feel him doing that empathy thing he does, helping me keep my cool as Wren says in a voice that’s 100 percent female, “It still needs some work, and I don’t sound like him yet, obviously. But now that we’re back together, I’m sure I can figure it out. I already feel so much stronger than I did when we first got here. You four are better than a bubble bath, a steak dinner, and an extra-large latte combined.”
Her face slip-slides back into its usual Wren shape as she adds in a rush, “We’ve still got this, Luke. It’s not too late.”
Before I can figure out what to say—how to reconcile her optimism with my suspicion that sending her off alone, even under deep cover, is a death sentence for all of us—there’s a knock at the door, and an unexpectedly perky-looking vampire doc enters the room.
“Hey, I’m Dr. Cahill,” she says, smiling as she wrinkles her freckled nose. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got lab results. You’re both clear. Whatever species the fungus is, it looks like it can’t survive long in our world. The samples we’re keeping in airtight, temperature-controlled containers are holding up a little better, but your blood and urine are already clear. Which is great news.”
“That is great news, and I love me some clear urine, doc,” Creedence says. “But I’d highly suggest ditching those samples. That shit is not something you want getting loose or learning how to live up here.”
Dr. Cahill bares her teeth in a guilty smile-wince. “Yeah, those hallucinations sounded intense. But don’t worry, we’ve got experience dealing with all sorts of pathogens here. We’ll keep whatever it is carefully contained while we move forward with our studies.”
Creedence grunts. “That’s what Pandora said.”
“Speaking of the ancient Greeks,” the doctor says, executing a conversational back-handspring and sticking the landing. “Our intelligence team is ready to brief you on everything we’ve learned about Atlas’s location and battle readiness whenever you’re feeling up to it. But first, I would suggest at least ten hours of sleep, IVs left in overnight, and a hearty meal when you wake up. You’re both healing incredibly quickly, but I don’t want you to push too hard, too fast. I’d hate to see you lose ground. You were in bad shape when they brought you in. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone that dehydrated. Not in nearly two hundred years of practice.”
Wren nods. “All that sounds wise. Thanks, Dr. Cahill.” She motions to where Kite and Dust are hovering at the end of her bed. “But I was wondering if we could get a few cots brought in? I hate to be any trouble, but I’m not sure any of us will be able to sleep if we’re separated.”
The doctor nods, making her brown ponytail bob. “Of course. Not a problem at all. I’ll alert housekeeping on my way underground.” She glances at her watch. “Which should happen soon. Sunrise comes early this time of year.” Fixing her gaze on Wren again, she promises, “But our day doctors are already on duty. They’re amazing, dedicated physicians, and they’ll take great care of you until I’m up and about after sunset, okay? And if you need anything to make yourselves more comfortable in the meantime, you can ask Gregory. He’s our patient concierge. We’re only at fifty percent capacity right now, so he’s got lots of time on his hands and loves to be helpful, so please do put him to work.”
Dust makes brief, but pointed, eye contact with me before he turns to Cahill. “We do have a few things we’d appreciate help with, actually. Most pressing is a rabbit in a cage that should be fetched from our hotel.”
I clear my throat. “Shit. I forgot all about Clover.”
Wren looks up at me, arching a brow. “Clover? I’m assuming this isn’t a new pet you guys decided to adopt in my absence?”
“We’ll fill you in later,” I promise, not wanting to show any more of our cards in front of a vampire, even one who seems as nice as Dr. Cahill.
Getting the hint, Cahill backs toward the door, “Okay, then. I hope everyone has a good sleep. I’ll get Gregory in here to take care of cots and bunnies, and I’ll be back to check on you tonight.”
“We have a few things to tell you, too,” Creedence says after she’s gone, his voice low and ominous in the newly still room. “Most importantly, that Sierra wasn’t who we thought she was.”
“What?” Dust turns back to Cree, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean? And, where is she?”
“She was down there,” Wren says softly. “With us. She was the body by the door.”
Dust’s gray eyes go wide.
“She’s been dead for months,” Wren continues, clearly pained to tell us all that our friend is dead. “It was Atlas with us, pretending to be Sierra. The entire time. From the moment Leda brought Sierra to us at the hotel in the mountains.”
A curse falls from my lips as Kite sits down hard on the bench at the end of Cree’s bed. For his part, Dust doesn’t move, except for the muscle tic, tic, ticking at his jaw.
“So he knows everything,” Creedence says, motioning toward Wren. “Including where Wren’s sister is hiding out. We fucking told him ourselves, right after the vision-sharing with Luke. So if you haven’t gotten that warning to her yet, we need to get on it post haste.”
I cut a look Dust’s way, knowing immediately that our pledge is out the window.
He sighs. “We actually have a few things to tell you, too…”
While Dust fills Wren and Creedence in on the attack on the Fey Castle and Scarlett’s appearance on the scene, I cross to the sink at the far side of the room and take my sweet-ass time washing my hands, not wanting to see Wren’s face when she hears what’s happened to her sister.
Her pained gasp as Dust shares the news is hard enough to take.
“Then what on earth are we still doing here?” Wren hisses, giving me my cue.
I cross back to her bed, closing the door to the room firmly on my way. Of course, there could still be—and probably are—cameras monitoring our every move, a fact I try to telegraph to Wren as I grab the covers she’s just thrown off and guide them back up and over her legs.
“We’re here because they’re helping you and Cree get better.” I hold her gaze and the covers in place, even when she squirms her knees beneath them. The feel of her—so fucking thin, all skin and bones beneath the sheets—is enough to make me stand my ground. “We are in no fucking shape to go us-against-the-world, Princess. You know I prefer to go it alone whenever possible, but there are times when you’ve got to rally what pack you’ve got around you.” I nod over my shoulder. “And I don’t have a gift like Kite’s, but my gut doesn’t often steer me wrong, and it says Dr. Cahill and the rest of the people here truly want to help you. And us. They want Atlas gone as much as we do.”
“Then why did they let this mob asshole take my sister?” she asks, eyes blazing. “And how soon can they get her back?”
“I’m going to broach the issue with their top brass,” Dust assures her, “but not until we’ve heard their intelligence on Atlas and I’m sure you and Creedence are fit to…travel.” The hesitation before the word is filled with all the things he doesn’t say.
That if we play this wrong, we may have to fight our way out.
That we’re outnumbered and outgunned.
And that our mission has to come first, even above the life and well-being of her sister.
Wren, clearly hearing it all, balls her hands into fists on top of her blanketed thighs. “Fine,” she says, voice low, “but I say when Cree and I are ready. I’ll know before you will, and I’ll know best.”
Dust nods, and we all fall silent. I don’t know what the others are thinking, but I’m wondering who’s going to tell Leda that she let our monster in through the front door. Leda, who thoughtfully excused herself to shower, change, and bed down in one of the guest rooms on the floor below us, giving the five of us some privacy.
But it isn’t her fault, any more than its mine or Dust’s. I blame all of us—for being too trusting, too naïve, too ready to accept things at f
ace value.
That has to change. Right now.
“So how do we do it?” I ask, sliding off the mattress to stand by Wren’s bed. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again?”
The rest of them turn to me, expressions shifting, one by one, as they catch my drift. We have to make sure Atlas doesn’t fool us again. But how, when he can put on any face and body he wants, like a kid dressing up for Halloween?
Wren is the first to speak, “We finish this. We get as close as we should be, so close we’re living half in each other’s skins. And then we shut out everyone who isn’t one of our five. Allies can help us now, but when we go to fight, we go alone.”
I blink, not tracking until Dust says, “If we consciously choose each other, not just Wren, we’ll be even stronger than we are now. Sharing will bring us closer, maybe even give us some access to each other’s Kin Gifts.”
Creedence clears his throat and casts a loaded look in my direction. “Not sure all of us are on board with that kind of sharing, Captain.”
“Then you get on board,” Wren says, without a trace of hesitation. “You’re all my mates and my lovers. The only thing that’s different is the timing and location. And if we live through the week, it’s going to happen eventually—I’ve seen it in the visions I’ve been getting since we became a circle of five.” She shrugs. “So we might as well speed the process along. Especially if it’s the best way to protect ourselves.”
“It certainly wouldn’t hurt.” Dust motions to Cree’s bed. “A closer bond should help prevent things like what happened to Creedence in the store, too. Atlas will have a much harder time controlling one of us if he has to deal with all five at the same time. We’ll be able to sense when someone is under attack and offer psychic support.” Dust glances my way. “Except for Luke, of course, but there’s strength in that, too. He’ll be immune to whatever mind games Atlas tries to play.”
I catch sideways looks from Kite and Dust, who clearly assume I’m going to be the lone holdout to the plan.
I lift my hands in easy surrender. “As long as none of you touches me on purpose, I don’t have a problem with an intimate setting.”
“But touching on accident is okay?” Cree asks, the old mischief in his tone, proving he’s on the road to recovery. “Say I accidentally touch your balls? That’s okay?”
“Accidentally touch my balls and I’ll accidentally rip yours off,” I answer with a smile that makes the cat laugh so hard it shifts his IV in his arm.
“Ouch.” He adjusts the needle, relaxing back against the pillows. “Well, good, glad we’ve established boundaries for Luke. The rest of us can draw up our no-no list tonight, and we seal the circle completely tomorrow. I’ll be able to get it up by then. I mean, I could get it up now, of course, but Wren’s tired, so…”
Wren rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. You can barely keep your eyes open, studly.”
Creedence’s eyes slide closed with a smile. “Not true. I’m ready to stay up all night and…” He pauses, yawning widely. “Party.”
“Then we rest today and leave tonight, after the meeting with the intelligence committee,” Dust says. “They’ve been helpful, but I don’t want to stay here any longer than we absolutely have to. The fact that one of their top brass ran off with one of our people and no one’s seen fit to offer any explanation is troubling.”
“You think?” Wren’s eyes flash. “But we’ll get answers tonight. Even if I have to go dragon and threaten to rain fire down on every vampire in this joint.” She pauses, expression softening as her attention shifts to the door. “Or at least the mean ones. I really don’t want to hurt Dr. Cahill or any of the people who’ve helped us.”
“And you won’t have to. Vampires can almost always be reasoned with,” Dust assures her—naively, I think, but what do I know?
The few vampires I knew back in L.A. were shiver rejects, psychopaths who had been kicked out of vampire society for killing kids or torturing animals or other sins against the vamp code of honor. Accidentally killing an adult human while getting carried away during a feeding is fine and dandy in their world, but don’t fuck with kids or critters or you’re out.
They’re especially weird about dogs. One vampire wanna-be-scientist I knew chopped a German Shepherd puppy and a Chihuahua puppy in half and sewed the opposite halves together, just to “see how funny it looked.” Both Franken-pups had apparently survived, but his queen hadn’t been amused.
She’d had his sewing hand chopped off to prevent further experimentation and kicked him to the curb.
Vampires are weird, no doubt. And dangerous.
But so are bunnies these days, I’m reminded as Clover’s cage is brought in and then taken to an interrogation room to await Leda’s attention once Sister Bear’s gotten some rest.
There’s no one we can really trust right now, except each other.
Wren’s right, the sooner we’re the most badass version of us, the better.
Chapter 25
Wren
They took my sister.
They took Scarlett, stole her away before I even had a chance to see her, hug her, or ask her all the hundreds of thousands of things I’ve wanted to ask since the day I thought an explosion stole her away from me forever.
If this vampire kingpin hurts a hair on her head, I will kill him, I decide, even as I maintain an earnestly interested expression. We’re entering hour three of our briefing on the logistics of Atlas’s stronghold and defenses, which so far, hasn’t provided much new intelligence except to confirm that everything I saw in my “dream” wasn’t a dream at all.
I don’t know if Atlas has built his castle in our shared spirit world, or if I was simply able to pull on his memories to create a replica of the real thing—a shared mental space cuts both ways, motherfucker—but either way it gives me some comfort.
I’m not going in blind, after all. The doors and windows and portals and wives’ quarters and dragons should all be where I expect them to be.
“And then there’s been new activity here.” The vampire leading the briefing, a tall, thin man with jet black hair, points to the other side of the lake, the one farthest from the castle set high on a cliff. “A large number of organisms coming and going, too big to be soldiers. But with the entry and exit to this area located underwater, we aren’t able to get a good read on what they might be.”
I cock my head slowly to one side, shooting Dust a subtle “we’ll talk about that later” look that he answers with a “got it, agreed” twitch of his eyebrow. I have an idea what’s hiding under the water—that green, glowing, screaming herd of whatever it was that chased me into the tunnels every night—but the coming and going part is new information.
“Any idea where the organisms are going?” I ask.
Inky hair—Franz? I’m usually good with names, but I’ve heard so many new ones this evening—shakes his head. “No. There haven’t been any reports of large-scale animal attacks, and our satellite feeds haven’t picked up any unusual herd activity.”
“So you think they’re herd animals?” Kite asks from my right side.
“The little movement we’ve been able to track through the water and whatever protection spells are in place would indicate yes.” Franz lifts a hand. “But we can’t say for certain. It could be something else entirely. We do know that Atlas has been working with the Kin Born. It could be some of their people.”
“Except that wolves don’t move like herd animals,” Luke observes. “And ninety percent of the Kin Born thugs are wolves.”
“And why are the Kin Born working with Atlas?” Dust asks. “We’re trying to get some answers from our hostage, but it’s been slow going so far. She’s either unwilling or unable to explain why her people are in bed with a man who, until recently, was closely aligned with Dr. Highborn, the world leader in shifter creation research.”
“Not to mention a guy who pretty much made it his mission to kill anything that goes furry part time,” Cree pipes up. “Whether i
t was lab made or Kin Born.”
“A lot of good questions.” Maria, a petite woman with a tidy afro, motions to Franz from her seat to his left. “And we’re working on getting answers, even as we speak. But as we mentioned at the beginning of the presentation, we’re here to provide you with information, not to draw conclusions at this particular meeting.”
“We don’t have a lot of time to get to the conclusion part,” I say, keeping my tone as pleasant as possible.
Maria smiles equally pleasantly. “Understood. But we find that the human brain’s tendency to fill in informational gaps to make a pleasing ‘story’ too often leads to a false narrative. We prefer to focus on verifiable facts and let the conclusions come naturally with time.”
“Interesting,” I grit out, rolling a pencil between my thumb and fingers and wondering if you can kill a vampire with a stake this small. Having my sister snatched away from me again has brought out a violent side I wasn’t sure I possessed, at least not unless under significant duress.
But knowing she was so close and I didn’t even get to see her hurts almost as much as claws to the chest. I need her, my last living family. My mates are my family now, too, but a sister is something different. Special.
Especially mine.
I want to dissect every memory of our shared past together, hunting for buried treasure, for glimpses of our mother and father and the farm we once called home. I want to hear about every second of every day of her life during the time that we were apart, to find out if she’s found happiness, or suffered through her years hiding in a world not quite our own. I want to know what she sees in my romantic future with her Kin Gift and to run through the forest in fox forms together, soaking in secrets human noses will never be able to discover.