by Sarah Piper
“It’s a powder keg,” I said, the implications hitting me full on. “All the pieces are in place.”
“All that’s left to do now is light the match.” This from Elena, who’d just emerged from her bedroom. She’d excused herself to check on Reva soon after Gray and Haley had locked themselves in the guest room, and we’d all given her some space.
Her face was gaunt, with deep lines around her mouth and eyes. She’d showered, but she still smelled of wolf’s blood.
My stomach twisted. The worse part? If I could detect it, she could, too.
I met her gaze, but then realized I had nothing to offer her. No compassionate smile, no words of encouragement, nothing that would truly help. For all intents and purposes, I was as much a stranger to her brother as most of the other guests in this house.
She nodded at me anyway, a gentle smile touching her lips.
Then, crossing to the center of the living room and addressing the group, she said, “The problem, of course, is that we don’t know what that match looks like or when they plan to strike it.”
“Sounds like we’ve got some things to sort out,” I said, moving to stand at Ronan’s side. I put a hand on his shoulder to let him know that for my part, all was forgiven. I had no interest in fighting with my brothers, even if I didn’t remember them as such, and I wanted him to know that.
“Darius is right,” he finally said, making no move to shake off my hand. “We need to make a solid plan.”
“I’ll put on more coffee,” Deirdre said. “Something tells me this endless night is about to get a lot longer.”
Ten
RONAN
It was damn near impossible to concentrate, but I was grateful for the challenge. It kept my mind off Gray and Emilio and Deirdre and all the other fucked-up shit swirling around inside, and right now, that was the best I could hope for. Distraction.
“So Darkwinter is amassing an army in the Bay,” I said, still pacing, “where they’ve subdued most of the population and seized control of the city’s resources. Meanwhile, we’ve liberated the witches, but not the hybrids the hunters created, or the other supernaturals they were experimenting on in the cave prisons.”
“We’re assuming they’re being held elsewhere,” Lansky said. “Possibly another warehouse in town, or—depending on how fast they bailed out last night—possibly in the Bay.”
“You’re assuming they’re even alive,” McKenna said. “From what we saw in there, none of them looked healthy. The hunters treated those guys even worse than they treated us.”
“How do you mean?” I asked, though I suspected I already knew.
“Beat the shit out of them,” McKenna said. “Tortured them. Basically, they were trying to trigger their predator response.”
She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know, but fucking hell, those hunters were some sick bastards.
“If we’re going to be prepared for all possible scenarios,” Elena said, “we need to consider the worst-case scenario here. So yes, we’re assuming they’re alive, strong, and ready to attack on Darkwinter orders.”
“You think the experiments worked?” I asked her.
“I think it’s possible, and therefore I want to be prepared for that possibility.” Despite the dark circles under her eyes, she glanced at her notes with extreme focus, tapping the notebook with her pen, totally absorbed in the task at hand.
Seemed I wasn’t the only one who thrived on distraction.
“Before the warehouse mission,” she continued, “Gray and Liam confirmed that Jonathan was still alive, albeit trapped in her magical realm. As Gray described it, he’d essentially transformed himself into some sort of human-shifter-vampire hybrid. If that’s true, then there’s a chance similar experiments were conducted on other beings, and possibly worked in the same way.”
“But she also said Jonathan was falling apart,” McKenna said. “Like, literally rotting away.”
“True,” Elena said, “but that doesn’t mean he or the others like him can’t do a lot of damage before they hit their expiration date.”
Detective Hobb—a shifter cop I was pretty sure was banging Elena—spoke up next.
“So if we follow the logic here,” he said, shouldering his way to the center of the packed room, “let’s assume they’ve relocated these hybrids to the Bay—or they’ve created new ones at that location—and that they’re at least somewhat operational as an attack force. Now we’ve got a city that’s been isolated from the rest of the country, militarized by an invading fae army, stripped of most of its necessities, banned from traveling freely, and unable to communicate with the outside world—the only exception being Kallayna.”
“Exactly,” Jael said. “And we don’t know how often she can reliably transmit information. She’s already put herself at great personal risk.”
“Fair point.” Elena blew out a breath. “Okay, so if you’re Orendiel, and you’ve got an entire city on lockdown and an army to back you up, and you want to cause the most damage in the shortest amount of time, what’s your play?”
“Tell you what I’d do,” I said. “Assuming I was a grade-A psychopath, which I’m not.”
“Debatable,” Beaumont said.
I shot him a death glare, but I let him get away with that one, mostly because I still felt guilty about the scone-up-the-arse comment. Shit. The sooner he got his memories back, the sooner he’d remember that insults and veiled threats were how we showed affection around here, and the better off we’d all be.
“I’d strategically unleash the hybrids,” I went on. “Let them cause some ruckus at the local businesses, break into houses in the different supernatural neighborhoods, tear shit up, take a few people down in the process. Make the others believe they’re being attacked from within—shifters burning down law-abiding vamp houses, vamps draining fae kids, fae manipulating shifter women, demons preying on witches, that sort of fucked-up shit. Then I’d sit back and watch the whole place turn on each other. Once that happens, they’ll tear each other apart—we’ve never been totally at peace over there, anyway. Not even among our own kinds, let alone across species. And they’ll have nowhere to go, no one coming in to help, because the ‘benevolent’ Knights of Darkwinter aren’t going to break up that fight for anything. It’s exactly what they want.”
“Madre María,” Elena said. “You’re absolutely right—Emilio and I talked about this very thing after he’d found out about Talia’s betrayal. Orendiel’s going to light that fire, throw some gasoline on it, and watch the whole city burn to ashes.”
“No,” Beaumont said. “He won’t let it burn to ashes. He’ll be sure the humans get involved first. Think of it—it’s the perfect scapegoat with a perfect message: Monsters have been living among you, and look what they’ve done to each other. They’ll be coming for you next.” He shoved a hand through his hair, losing some of the cool elegance he was known for. “He’ll use that as leverage to get them to turn over even more of their freedoms. It starts in the Bay, and it spreads outward, especially when Darkwinter are controlling the messaging and communications.”
“And that, my friends,” Lansky said, “is how you stage a coup.”
“We’re talking about mass exposure of the supernatural community,” Elena said, and a collective chill went around the room. “The Bay falls, then the neighboring cities, the state, the whole west coast…”
“This may already be happening in other places,” McKenna said. “Haley and Reva were telling us that Norah had heard from some of the other covens in America and even a few overseas that weird shit was going down. Witch murders, disappearances, things like that. Norah didn’t want to get involved—not even when they asked for her help directly.”
“Gray told us about that, too,” I said. “Haley and Sophie had apparently dug up some emails or something, and tried to confront Norah. She wanted nothing to do with it.”
“Because she’s in league with the hunters,” the older witch with the yellow eyes sa
id. “She sold out her own kind, and as far as we know, she’s still on the loose.”
“That’s right,” Elena confirmed. “We’ve got an APB out on her, but other than one credit card charge, we haven’t heard a peep.”
“She’s the least of our problems,” I said. “My gut tells me her part in this is over, and now she’s on the run, trying to get ahead of the very nightmare she helped unleash. Right now I’m more concerned about Orendiel’s plans in the Bay and the bigger implications for the country.”
The room fell silent once again, hopelessness settling in like a death shroud.
“Let’s not,” Beaumont said, stepping out of the shadows to stand at the center of the room. “This is all very doom-and-gloom, and it’s serious—no doubt about that. But we’ve faced down greater odds before, haven’t we?” Then, he flashed a grin. “Well, allegedly. I don’t remember the specifics, on account of my—”
“The point, vampire,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Get to it.”
“The point, dear demon,” he continued, “is that we need a plan of attack, and we can’t afford to get sidetracked with fear and speculation. While we know that witches have been kidnapped or murdered in other locations, we also know that the Bay, in particular, is under total siege. We have no such confirmation from any other cities or countries, so I humbly propose that we focus on the Bay first. We can assess each new situation as we receive more information, but that one has to be paramount. It’s my belief that Blackmoon Bay is ground zero for this entire operation.”
“Agreed,” Elena said.
“Thank you,” Beaumont said. “Now, as I was saying. Yes, the situation is a powder keg over there. But the match has yet to be struck. And just like the warehouse siege, we have the element of surprise. They don’t know that Kallayna is a spy, nor that she is still in contact with her brother.”
“That is our hope, yes,” Jael said. “But even so, we cannot physically reach them. They’ve isolated the city completely—not just with the storm and route closures, but with magic. Anyone who attempts to enter without Darkwinter knowledge and express permission will be turned around before they even get close. There is literally no way to breach city limits—not on foot, not with cars, not with planes, not even with tanks. Such is the deceptive nature of their magic.”
“Fair point,” Beaumont said, “But…” His lips curved into another grin, his eyes glinting with a look I’d come to know well.
Hunger.
“I believe I speak for all of the predators in the room when I say this: If we can’t get to them, we’ll just have to lure them out to us.”
Eleven
LIAM
Gray’s twilight blue eyes clouded with ice, her whole body going rigid. From her energy, I felt nothing but cool detachment, even as Emilio’s soul stirred into a hot frenzy inside me, recognizing her presence.
“I’m not here to say goodbye, Liam.”
All the fear and concern and horror at Emilio’s outward appearance vanished. She’d said the words simply, with a calm certainty I hadn’t expected, as if there could be no other outcome.
I should’ve expected as much. Gray had always been determined, and she was fiercely protective of those she loved.
“You must,” I said, though even I remained unconvinced. Still, it was my sacred duty to say these words, to inform her of his passing and offer her the option of escorting his soul to the Shadowrealm—or accompanying me, if she so chose. “It is your last chance before we—”
“There are no last chances here,” she said, as resolute as I’d ever seen her. “I’m a necromancer, Liam. In the truest sense of the word. I have the capacity to give life, to save it, or to destroy it.”
At that, I couldn’t help but allow the faintest ghost of a smile to touch my lips. She was reciting my old words back to me, from the first time I’d told her about her nature. That was the night she’d lost Sophie, and she’d come so much farther since then.
“Clever girl,” I said. “But did I not also tell you that all such beings are bound to me?”
She cocked her head, glaring at me with a power that would’ve frightened the strongest mortal. “It’s a little late for that, Liam.”
“Yes, I was afraid you might see it that way.”
I had failed as her mentor. I had failed as her friend. And most of all, I had failed as a man who’d claimed to love her. There was nothing I could say now, no warning or long, metaphysical explanation, no truths or lies or anything in between that would alter her present course.
Gray placed a hand on Emilio’s chest, her eyes softening for him and him alone. Then, turning back to me, she drew in a deep breath and said, “I am Shadowborn. I am the heir of Silversbane. And this man has my heart. If you think for one second I’m going to stand by and watch him vanish into eternity while I have the power to do something about it, you haven’t learned a thing about me.”
I offered a solemn nod, conceding her point. In truth, however, I’d learned more than she realized. For this moment, too, was a possibility I had seen. One I had hoped for, if I were being honest.
And here, at perhaps the most important meeting she and I would ever hold, honesty was my only choice.
“I know he hasn’t yet passed on to the Shadowrealm,” she said. “I can feel him. You have his soul.”
“Indeed.” I held up my hands, my skin glowing silver-bright in response. “Though I’m afraid I cannot hold him much longer. If I don’t release him from my vessel, he will release himself, cursed to endlessly wander the realms without a guide.”
She touched his face, her eyes softening once again. “So we’ll put him back where he belongs.”
“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid. Even for a necromancer. His body is broken, Gray. His blood poisoned. His soul sensed the death of his physical form and departed of its own volition. To return it to his body now would simply trap him in pain and torment for all eternity.”
“Not if we heal him first.” She got to her feet and walked a circle around his body, her brow furrowed in concentration, her hands hovering before her as if she were trying to sense the last bit of his essence. “There must be something we can do. A spell.”
“Perhaps,” I said, standing to meet her eyes once again. “But there is no time. Not if we want to prevent his soul from wandering.”
“Think, Liam. Think.” Gray pressed her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes. “There’s something we’re not seeing here. Some way to heal him quickly or… something.”
I watched her, in awe at her courage. Her calm. She’d come through so much in such a short time, and yet she still wasn’t ready to concede defeat. With Gray, there was always another way.
“Well?” She opened her eyes, the moonlight reflecting on her hair, turning it silver in its pale light, and—
“Moonlight,” I said, the answer coming to me now, sharp and clear.
And, like so many things I’d experienced since Gray had come into my life, completely forbidden.
But if it meant helping her restore the life of someone she loved, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Moonlight what?” she asked, her hands on her hips. “Liam, we don’t have time for your poetic riddles tonight. What are you—”
“Quiet, Gray. I must concentrate.” Lifting my hands to the sky, I called upon the magic of the ancient fae, using it to channel light from the moon. I gathered it into my hands, so pure and beautiful it nearly hurt to look at. Then, with a spell as old as time, outlawed since the first Elemental Wars, I whispered the incantations and carefully spun in into a gossamer sphere no larger than a grapefruit.
Gray gasped beside me, but she remained still and silent, allowing me to do my precious work.
With a slow exhale, I released Emilio’s soul, guiding the silver-white light into the moonglass. After a final incantation, the sphere sealed itself, encasing his essence in an unbroken bubble of protective moonlight.
“Moonglass,” I said, holding the f
eather-light globe between us. “It will contain his soul until we are ready to release it.”
My owl and raven ferriers, who’d been perched silently on the black branches overhead during our entire exchange, finally took flight. Despite the mesmerizing beauty of the sphere, they knew what its making had just called forth.
Gray and I had perhaps an hour by earthly reckoning to complete our task. Perhaps an hour before I’d be called to atone for my actions, sentenced to some punishment I could only imagine.
But that was a concern for another moment. Right now, Gray and I had more important matters to consider.
“What… what is it?” she breathed, still in awe. “How does it work?”
“It’s a fae spell,” I explained. “Almost as old as I am. It is the only known magic that can hold a soul indefinitely without damaging it.”
“I’ve never heard of this before.”
“Moonglass has been banished for more than four thousand years. While our purpose is to return life, the original intention was not so benevolent.”
Her eyes widened as she peered into the glass. Its pearly sheen changed colors, shifting from silver to white to an iridescent pink, reacting to the soul inside.
“How do you mean?” she asked.
“The first fae tricked the moon into lending them her light, and they used it to create a device that would imprison the souls of their enemies. During times of war, they would call the light onto the battlefield, performing the spell and luring the souls of recently deceased enemy soldiers inside. Once captured, the souls could later be released into the most hostile fae realms, condemning them to an eternity of torment so much worse than anything they’d ever faced as soldiers.”