Graveyard Shift

by Jenn Burke

  I coughed. “How are you doing, man?”

  “I’m not sure. Kind of numb.”

  I knew what he meant. My emotions rose up unexpectedly now and again to squeeze my heart, but I mostly didn’t feel anything. I couldn’t, or functioning, planning, would be off the table. After we did what we needed to do, then I’d let myself feel. When I had Hudson back, and we could prop each other up.

  I took a deep breath to regain my focus and stated the obvious. “We need to go after Hudson.”

  Lexi leaned back in her chair. “How? Vampire army, remember?”

  “An army we thinned out—”

  “Or didn’t. You don’t know how many vampires he’s created.”

  I mirrored her posture. “So what are you saying? Leave Hudson with Pike?”

  “No. I’m saying I don’t want to lose you too.”

  “I get that. But doing nothing isn’t an option.”

  “I know. I’m—” Her lips trembled. “I’m fucking scared, Wes.”

  “Do you know where he is?” Evan asked.

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the bond that connected my heart to Hudson’s. It took only a few seconds for me to feel it, instead of the usual background buzz. It pulled me to the north, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where. But I could follow the tug. It got stronger the closer my mind ventured to Hudson’s, strong enough that I could almost see his surroundings, feel the crowd of people around him, hear conversations, smell scents—

  “Wes!” he shouted—in my mind, in my heart, in my soul.

  I opened my eyes with a gasp. “Yes. To the north. I could haunt him—”

  Lexi’s eyes narrowed. “And potentially end up in the middle of a—”

  “Vampire army,” we all repeated along with her.

  “We could triangulate where they are,” Evan suggested. “Once we know, I could get inside and pretend I’m under Pike’s control too.”

  I straightened. “And take Pike on yourself? Fuck no.”

  “No, but I could be a distraction while you ghost in.”

  “You want a distraction?” Lexi arched a brow. “I can give you a damned distraction.”

  “I wouldn’t mind hunting a few bad vampires,” Sam put in.

  I raked a hand through my hair. “Christ. No. Vampire army, remember?”

  “Who killed my family,” she said. “Don’t I deserve a chance to avenge them?”

  “This isn’t a damned comic book.” I shook my head. “The best bet is for me to haunt Hudson and try reverse haunting to get him out of there.”

  “The teleporting thing you’ve done a grand total of once, in a panic?” Lexi said.

  “Yeah,” I said uncertainly. “That.”

  It had been how I’d saved Hudson and Evan from the explosion that destroyed Hudson’s bungalow. But I couldn’t deny that Lexi had a point. It wasn’t a skill I’d practiced, because I shouldn’t be able to do it. I also worried that it would take more magic than I had access to through my believers—and what if I accidentally yanked magic from the beyond again and caused more rifts in the otherplane?

  “What happens if you can’t do it again, huh? What then?” Lexi challenged. “It’ll be you, alone, up against an army that includes Hudson. Did you think about that?”

  My insides grew cold. I hadn’t, actually, but she was right. If I wasn’t successful in getting Hudson away from Pike, Pike could force him to try to hurt me—or worse. Hell, even if I did get Hudson away from Pike, the compulsion to harm me might still be there.

  “So the solution is to get rid of Pike.” I blew out a breath. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  I wasn’t a good guy—my morals were a little too gray for me to claim a white cowboy hat. But there were things I’d never done—things I didn’t want to do—and killing was one of them. Even if it was justified.

  “Oh, fuck that,” Evan snarled, bursting to his feet. “After all he’s done, you’re going to sit there and claim you can’t kill him?” He shoved the chair away and it tipped over, clattering to the floor. We all jumped. “You’re a fucking god, Wes. You think you’re too good to get your hands dirty? You’re too fucking pure?”

  I reeled back, stunned by Evan’s vehemence. “No, I—”

  “I killed Julia to save you and Hudson. Do you think I want the memory of what I did to her?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then stop. Just...just fucking stop.” His head drooped and he seemed to be looking at the chair on its side, but I wasn’t sure he was seeing it.

  “I’m no assassin. I’m not going to ghost in there to kill him.”

  “He killed Iskander. He killed Sam’s family. He’s torturing Hudson. And if we don’t stop him, he’ll keep on killing shifters. Making new vampires. Destroying lives.”

  I met his fierce gaze. The permanent line of yellow around his pupil that had showed up months after he’d become a vampire was almost glowing—that’s how strongly he felt.

  And he wasn’t wrong.

  Was I clinging to this line in the metaphorical sand because of my morals, or because I was a coward? Or was it because I didn’t want the responsibility...which was probably tied into me being a coward. Then there was the question of, if I played judge, jury and executioner here, would I get a taste for it? Would I turn into one of those gods?

  But, honestly? None of those questions mattered. The point Evan was making was that I had to act, and it couldn’t be a dash-in, dash-out and run far away kind of thing. I had to take a stand. Not only for Hudson, and for the memory of Iskander and Sam’s family, but for me. For my city.

  Pike couldn’t be allowed to live.

  * * *

  Haunting someone used to be the most difficult skill in my repertoire. Now, the little zooming through the otherplane trick to someone’s location was as simple as stepping into the otherplane—at least, it was when I was whole and healthy, and I was close enough to that state that it didn’t take much effort. I focused on my bond with Hudson, what he felt like, who he was...then took a breath and willed myself to him.

  I emerged in a dark, crowded bar and quickly slipped halfway back into the otherplane so the people writhing to the earsplitting music wouldn’t notice me. I withdrew into a dark corner so I could observe and plan. It took me a few minutes, but I finally recognized the place—Ren’s bar, the Night Life. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered he was gone too.

  Fucking Pike.

  The place looked nothing like the country bar I’d been to more than once. It had always felt like a happy place, a good-time place—the antithesis of what I thought a vampire bar should feel like. Now, it was dark and twisted, the atmosphere choked with negativity and roughness. The light, airy pine floors were smeared with...stuff. I hoped that it was red wine, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t. The gentle lights embedded in the ceiling were off, and the bar was almost completely dark except for the garish colored neon and strobe lights spinning and flashing over the dance floor. I could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on as a result of the harsh and confusing atmosphere.

  Ren would’ve hated to see it.

  I navigated the edge of the crowd, which was about two-thirds vampire and one-third human. The vamps needed food, after all—they couldn’t feed on other vampires. I scanned every face, looking for my mate. He was nearby, I knew that much, but the sheer number of bodies crowded into the space made it impossible to see. Finally, I made it off the dance floor...and I found Hudson.

  He was sitting in a curved booth, shirtless, his skin glistening in the lights reflecting off the dance floor. The table that the bench had once cupped was gone, leaving him completely exposed to the crowd. A woman straddled his lap, gyrating to the music, and his face was buried in her neck.

  Feeding.

  The sight hit me like a punch to the sternum. It was wrong, so
wrong. That was my role, not some stranger’s.

  Pike emerged out of the darkness, and my heart sped up. I’d hoped to find him somewhere less crowded and take him by surprise, so I could avoid getting caught by his army. But the way a few of his vampires fawned all over him, I wasn’t sure he’d retreat to somewhere quieter anytime soon. He seemed to thrive on the attention.

  He stepped up to Hudson and grabbed his arm, pulling it out to the side. Hudson still had his face nuzzled into the woman’s neck and shoulder and didn’t look up as Pike extended a deadly sharp claw and drew it along Hudson’s arm. Blood welled up instantly—and I realized that Hudson’s glistening skin wasn’t due to sweat colored red by the lights.

  They were bleeding him. But...why? I slipped further into the otherplane and drew closer so I could hear what Pike was saying.

  “Come now, Havoc,” Pike purred. “You must be hungry.”

  My eyes widened. Maybe Hudson wasn’t feeding after all. But Pike wanted him to, so how was he resisting?

  “She smells sweet, doesn’t she?”

  “No,” Hud ground out.

  Pike’s shadowy form grew spikes and he dragged more than one claw down Hudson’s arm. “Drain her!”

  “No!” Hudson pushed the woman off his lap. She laughed as she fell to the floor and lay there, sprawled out, and I realized she was high on something.

  Pike grabbed Hudson’s hair and yanked his head back. “Open. Your. Mouth,” he ordered, and his power reverberated through the air. He gestured at someone to bring the woman forward again.

  Hudson tried not to obey. I couldn’t see details from where I was, mostly in the otherplane, but I could sense how much he didn’t want to do this.

  “Open!” Pike shouted.

  I could only assume Hud complied, because Pike pushed on his head, trying to force his fangs lower, into the woman’s neck. Hudson resisted, refusing to give in to Pike’s strength.

  “Do it,” Pike growled.

  I needed to act. But I was one man in a bar full of vampires, who all had their attention captured by the drama in the corner. Could I act quickly enough to run in and grab Hudson and get out? Could I—

  Wait.

  I wasn’t a man. I wasn’t even a not-ghost anymore. I was a fucking god.

  “God of what?” Priya had once asked me.

  It was a question I’d wondered myself. It wasn’t like this god gig came with a manual. There was no divine hierarchy—that I knew of—to bestow responsibilities and titles. Maybe it was up to me to decide what I wanted and who I wanted to be. What kind of god.

  Maybe it was time to embrace this new state of being instead of continuing to shy away from it. I’d told myself I’d accepted it, but had I? I didn’t stutter when saying the word anymore, and I’d learned to accept believers, but that was about the extent of it. I was afraid to use my abilities. Afraid to open myself to the possibilities of what I could truly do. I didn’t want to lose myself—who I was, my values, my own beliefs, my love for my family and Hudson. I was denying myself, the same as I had when my magic had first increased.

  If I wanted to save Hudson, I couldn’t deny that part of myself anymore.

  I gathered my power around me like a cloak and stepped fully into the living plane. My skin illuminated the darkness of the bar, sending some of the vampires skittering away from my brilliance. All the vampires near Hudson remained motionless, staring at me. Even Pike.

  I glared at him. “Hudson is mine.”

  My power burned along the bond I still shared with my mate, my love, giving him the strength to shake off Pike’s hold—both physical and magical. Pike cried out as his control over Hudson disintegrated. Hudson shoved himself off the booth seat and I held out a hand to welcome him. When he grabbed it, I knew Pike would never be able to reclaim him—a god, even a newbie god, trumped a scary old vampire.

  “You can’t—” Pike lurched for me. Before anyone else could react, I batted away his arm with a strength I didn’t know I possessed, and shoved the heel of my hand against his forehead.

  And I saw.

  The moment Pike realized he’d escaped Hudson’s wrath, but his band hadn’t. How he’d killed the woman he was with so no one would know he was alive. Vague impressions of running, killing, then escaping Canada and killing more in Europe. Sharper memories when his mind started to recover, clearer images of the men and women he fed on and killed. Unequivocal purpose and intent when he returned to Toronto—to reclaim everything he’d lost over the years. Followers, riches, power. He’d forced Sam’s grandfather to grow the wolfsbane for his new drug and reveled in the irony that a shifter clan would help kill shifters in Toronto. He’d created new vampires as fast as he could to ensure he’d have a rabid army to take out shifters who wouldn’t try the drugs—an army that couldn’t be traced back to him, because he abandoned his fledglings as soon as they were created. He’d have revenge on everyone, everything, who’d ever wronged him. It confirmed all that I’d guessed about his motivations and what he’d done over the past twenty years.

  I withdrew my hand from his forehead and Pike blinked, as though coming out of a trance. “You had a second chance when you escaped the death of your band.”

  Pike snarled. “The death Havoc—”

  “His name is Hudson, and his involvement is irrelevant. You had a second chance to be a better person, to live a better life, and you did nothing but become more depraved. You squandered your second chance.”

  Just that quickly, I knew who I was. And things...clicked. I’d always felt the power of my believers throughout the city, but now it suffused me, as though I’d needed to acknowledge myself before I truly felt that connection. I held in the gasp that wanted to escape as I fully understood what it meant to be believed in. I’d said these people were mine to help and protect—but now I knew it, down to my core.

  “I am the God of Second Chances,” I announced, my voice ringing with power. “And I revoke yours.”

  “What?” Pike gasped.

  That was all he had time for before he disintegrated into dust.

  “Holy shit. Wes—what did—” Hudson’s hand tightened on mine and he groaned, bending over double.

  My heart stopped. What had I done? “Hud?”

  “I’m—I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “Just...it’s a lot.”

  “What is?”

  He straightened and looked around. The vampires looked as stunned as him, uncertain whether they should stay or run. “Apparently vampire bands are hereditary. Who knew?”

  “Wait.” He couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he meant. “Are you saying—”

  “He’s now our sire,” a nearby vamp volunteered.

  “The fuck? How is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know,” Hudson said. “Maybe it’s because I’m the oldest surviving member of his original band, so... I’m the new leader.”

  My eyes shot wide. “Of all of them?”

  “All the ones Pike made.” A pause. “I think.”

  “Holy shit.”

  He squeezed my hand, which he’d never released through these revelations. “I’ll take it. If it means being free of that asshole forever, I’ll fucking embrace it.” He tugged on my hand, pulled me against his chest, and bent so his lips brushed my shoulder. Trembles coursed through his body. “God, Wes. I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Neither can I.”

  Someone cleared their throat next to us. It was the vampire who’d spoken up a few moments before. I couldn’t make out many details in the uneven lighting, but I could tell his skin was darker than Hudson’s. “Sire?”

  “Hudson.”

  A smile flashed on the guy’s lips. “Hudson. Uh...what should we be doing now?”

  Hudson’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

  The vampires had stopped dancing and were w
atching us with varying levels of confusion. Someone had turned off the deafening music too. “Well, we... Sire—I mean, Pike—always gave us commands. But they’re all erased and we’re...” He shrugged.

  “I’m not like that.” The natural authority Hudson had always had came through loud and clear. “I’m your sire now, which means I’m here to help and guide you, but I’m not your father, and I’m definitely not going to direct your every action. I want you to live your lives how you want to live them, with two caveats. No killing. You need to feed, but you can do that without killing humans. Treat your donors with respect, and if you need help with how to do that, talk to me. And two, do not draw attention to the band or other paranormals. That means no crimes, and no actions against shifters or anyone else.” He cast his gaze around. “Understood?”

  Murmurs of agreement rose around us.

  “Good. Now...” He smiled. “Can someone give us a ride?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Two of Hudson’s new minions drove us back into Toronto.

  “Don’t call them that,” Hudson whispered when I used that descriptor. We were sitting in the back seat of a little Honda, unwilling to be separated, so the two minions were up front.

  “Why not? They are.”

  “It’s true,” the minion who was driving offered up. I think her name was Marci. She had short, tightly curled red hair and a big smile.

  “I’m okay with being a minion,” the second said with a shrug. His name was Ravi, and his carefully styled black pompadourish hair reminded me a lot of Iskander’s.

  I squeezed Hudson’s hand as the pain flared up at that thought.

  “You don’t think it’s a bit demeaning?” Hudson asked them. He intertwined our fingers, which told me he’d felt my grief. I’d told him about Isk’s death back at the bar, but I think he’d already known, on some level. He’d compartmentalized it for now, like I was trying to do.

  Marci tilted her head to the side. “Eh, it’s a nickname, and we know it’s meant in fun.”