Chapter 36

 

“I would like Zara to join me.” Octavian met Zara’s eyes. “Your abilities could help us determine where the leaders stand.”

He’d been thinking about different ways to ask her all morning so the request didn’t take Zara nearly by surprise, but the backup debate he had in case she refused did. It was already sitting on his tongue, just waiting to remind her how important this meeting was and how everything rested on them making a good first impression as a family.

Zara cocked her head to one side. “Of course. Why would I say no? I do know how important this is.”

Octavian flushed and turned to his wife. “You should come, too. A strigoi presence might help sway things in our favor.”

Riley nodded.

Satisfied, he faced Gideon and Valkyrie, but Magnus cut him off.

“I’m coming,” he announced. “You’re not taking Zara into a den of vampires without me.”

Octavian had been anticipating the demand. It had already been implied, but he gave Magnus a nod and went back to Gideon.

“You and Valkyrie get over to the west and fill Serinda in. I want everyone to stick in twos until we get that protection from the angels. No one goes anywhere alone.”

“What about me?” Reggie leaned forward in his seat. “What am I doing?”

“You’re staying here with Dad. Make sure the doors are bolted shut and keep everyone in their rooms. Actually…” He scratched at his brow with the nail on his thumb. “Look through the maps. See if you can’t find somewhere safe we can take them. Somewhere preferably far from here.”

“You want me to babysit?” Reggie stared at him. “Okay, what the fuck is going on? For days now, you guys have been keeping me stuck in this place. Even Mom was acting all weird towards the end. Do you know something I don’t?”

To Octavian’s credit, he never so much as batted an eye at the accusation.

“Two people need to stay here,” he stated easily. “Those are the rules. Serinda is Valkyrie’s sister so it makes sense that she and Gideon go. I need Zara and Riley with me. That only leaves you. Basic math, Reg.”

That didn’t seem to appease Reggie at all. “Why can’t Magnus stay?”

Magnus never missed a beat replying simply, “Because she’s my wife.”

The use of that word on his tongue never failed to distract Zara. It had her gaze leaping across the diner to where he stood, one hip propped against the counter, arms folded over the soft cotton of his black shirt. His damp hair had been slicked back from his face and tucked behind his ears, leaving every perfect line exposed. The ends hung to his wide shoulders where the collar of his duster was flipped back. The waves appeared darker, slightly less unruly when wet, and it made her think of the feel of the strands between her fingers as the jets from the shower tumbled down around their naked bodies. The memory sent a ripple of warmth spreading through her. It made her conscious of her own damp locks and the reason they’d been late arriving to the meeting. It also made her grin slightly.

“Stop that.”

Zara’s attention flicked up to find Magnus watching her, eyes dark the way they got when he was about to set her whole body aflame. It definitely did nothing to taper the warm flames already leaping in the pit of her stomach.

“I haven’t done anything,” she said in his head only.

One inky eyebrow lifted. “If we were alone, I’d show you exactly what you did.”

The heat erupted up the column of her throat to flood her face. It burned behind her eyes, making them prickle. She tried to avert them, but they seemed incapable of ignoring the man luring her to him with only a look.

“Stop it,” she whispered, struggling not to fidget.

The right corner of his mouth twisted upward. “I haven’t done anything … yet.”

A giggle escaped her before she could stifle it. The sound seemed much louder in the semi silence of the room. It drew the attention of those around her, making her the center of their questioning glances.

“Zara?” Octavian turned to her. “Did you want to add something?”

Mashing her lips together, Zara shook her head.

He eyed her a second longer, not believing her at all, but returned to his gathering.

Zara dared another glance at the figure across the room, not at all surprised to find him smirking.

“You’re horrible.”

“You started it, sweetheart.”

It was a task, but she turned her attention back to the plan Octavian was explaining in too much detail. It was clear this was something he’d spent the entire night plotting out, which would have been great, except the overall concept was much simpler. At least in her mind, but then again, she’d never met a strigoi outside of Riley. Maybe extra precaution was necessary.

“Does everyone understand?”

Gideon shifted in his seat. “So, basically, in short, you’re going to go in, talk to the leaders, and get them to join our side. Valkyrie and I, after meeting with Serinda, will wait for you guys to leave down the road. If you don’t come out on the time we set, we are to come in and save you. Does that sound about right?”

Octavian glowered at him. “Don’t be a dick. Just do it. We don’t have a lot of room for error.”

“We have no room for error,” Gideon corrected, unfazed. “You guys could be killed.”

“Then I should come with you,” Reggie volunteered. “Extra backup can’t hurt.”

“No,” Gideon and Octavian blurted simultaneously.

“You have a job,” Octavian reminded him.

“A fucked up job. Stay home and babysit.”

“We’ve all had to do it,” Gideon said. “Guarding the house has always been—”

“When Mom was alive,” Reggie cut in sharply. “Dad put that rule into place because of her, because he wanted to make sure she was protected. Who am I protecting right now? The walls?”

“There are about thirty people upstairs—”

“Inside a warded house. Come on. Knock it off. Seriously, guys, I’m not a fucking idiot. You practically jumped down my throat when I went to go see Zara the other day. Now, you’re deliberately keeping me locked up and I want to know why.”

No one seemed to have an answer for that, which in turn only confirmed Reggie’s suspicion.

He peered from face to face, waiting for someone to crack. None of his brothers actually met his eyes. Riley had all but turned away entirely. Valkyrie simply glowered at him as if he was being an absolute moron, which was also what she was thinking. Then he was looking straight at Zara. The anger dissolved into a plea that wrapped around her heart and twisted.

“Z, come on.”

Zara lifted her gaze past him to Magnus, then Octavian, asking them to help her, to say something, because she couldn’t lie straight to his face, not when he was the closest thing she’d ever had to a friend, not when he’d risked his life to save her.

“Reg…”

“Enough.” Octavian took a step forward. “Reggie, knock it off. We don’t have time for this. Someone needs to stay here with Dad, okay?”

Frustration wove off Reggie like a heater. It billowed through the room, an oppressive wave that made Zara’s skin prickle and her stomach flip. It was so similar to the sensation of guilt that she had to push to her feet and pace away from the group, away from Reggie. She didn’t realize she was moving towards Magnus until he caught her waist and pulled her into his arms. His lips found the dent at her temple.

“Whatever.”

Reggie got to his feet and stalked from the room, taking his churning thoughts, but leaving behind the bitter tang of his resentment. It swirled in the air, mixing with the leftover stench of food, bodies, and just the hint of blood. The doors clapped shut behind him. Then there was silence.

“We should tell him,” Riley said once she was sure Reggie was no longer in ear shot. “This isn’t fair to him.”

“We’re not telling him anything,” Octavian muttered. “Mom made us promise.”

“I agree with Red,” Valkyrie chimed in. “He’s a grown man, not a child. Keeping this from him is ridiculous. He needs to know so he can protect himself.”

“That’s what he has us for,” Gideon pointed out.

“And this is your solution?” Riley cried, waving a hand over the room. “Keep him locked up here forever? I mean, we don’t even know if Zara’s vision was even in this century. How long do you think he’s going to just fall in line?”

“Riley’s right,” Zara murmured. “My vision could mean anything, but I don’t think we should tell him. I just don’t think keeping him locked up will help, especially when he dies here.”

Octavian stiffened. “You never told us that.”

Zara lowered her gaze. “I shouldn’t have told you any of it. This is why. Reggie’s not an animal. With all your good intentions, you are pushing him away, making it impossible for him not to do something stupid. We don’t tell people their future for this reason. It does more harm than good.”

The eldest Maxwell pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “We don’t have time for this.” He raised his head and peered over the room. “We’ll deal with it when we return. Gather what you need and we’ll meet out front in twenty.”

The meeting dispersed. Everyone went in their own directions, their roles clear in their minds. Zara pulled away from Magnus as the last of the group disappeared through the back. She turned to him.

“This isn’t a good idea.”

“Meeting the leaders? Why? Did you see something?”

Zara shook her head. “Not that. Keeping Reggie in the dark. I know your mom wanted it that way, but her reasons weren’t normal.”

It dawned on her after the word had slipped out that she probably should have used a different one. Magnus was staring at her as if she’d just cursed at his dead mother.

“What do you mean?”

She could feel herself standing on thin ice. The ground seemed to crackle with warning, daring her to make one false move. But he was already watching her, waiting for an explanation she couldn’t give him.

“Reggie was her baby,” she began slowly. “She loved all of you, but Reggie—”

“Was her baby, yeah, I know.”

Zara sighed. “She meant well, but death will find him no matter where he hides. Keeping him locked up won’t protect him.”

“He’s my little brother,” Magnus began.

“He will always be your little brother, but he’s not little anymore, Magnus. He’s a warrior. He’s been in battle. He deserves to live what time he has.”

His answer was to grind the heel of his hands into the backs of his eyelids. His mind groaned in frustration and pleaded for him not to say anything, to just let it go. There was too much to do to get into that fight. It hurt that he thought she was trying to fight with him, but it also made her see that he would never be swayed on this. His dead mother had given her final wish and he would take that promise to his own grave, even if it meant chaining Reggie up in the basement. It was terrible to think, but she really disliked Kyaerin. The woman’s idiocy would ruin her son’s life. All of them.

“I’m going to change,” she lied, moving away from him and hurrying into the kitchen.

There was still one person they would listen to, one person who continued to hold sway even if Octavian was giving orders. She needed to talk to Liam. She needed to convince him that locking Reggie up would only do more harm than good. She needed to make him see how much damage it was causing, and how much more it could cause if not rectified.

Her feet hurried up the stairs at a near sprint. Despite the innocence of her decision, her heart hammered as though she were doing something immoral. She made it all the way to Liam’s bedroom and stopped at the figure already there.

“Riley?”

The girl turned, equally as surprised by the sight of Zara. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Opting for another lie, Zara replied, “I wanted to check on Liam.”

Riley nodded. “Me too. I’ve been out here for like five minutes trying to talk myself into it. I just feel like I’m bothering him. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m going to say. Everything just sounds so stupid. I mean, he lost his mate. I keep trying to think how I would feel and … I can’t. The very thought is just unbearable. Losing Octavian…” One small, pale hand fisted against her chest, crushing the soft wool of her sweater. “I would want to die with him. Living … I … I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to.”

It was a thought Zara had refused to even consider. The very idea was a pain that had no name, because no one had ever felt anything like it. There was nothing if Magnus died. Her whole world would catapult into a black void. There was no reason for anything.

“Don’t think like that.”

It was unclear who she was talking to, herself or Riley, but she drew in a breath and attempted to shake the chill off.

Riley sniffled. “But I feel like I should let him know that we’re here. That he’s not alone. You know…” She swiped the back of her hand under her nose and turned red rimmed eyes towards Zara. “When my mother officially abandoned me and my father sold his soul for revenge and had to be killed, Kyaerin was there for me. She became my mother, which I know must sound really weird, but…” She gave an awkward little chuckle. “She and Octavian, and the whole family became my family. I never had one of those. Then Imogen…” Her voice broke. Her bottom lip wobbled. “I barely knew her a year, but I loved her. Now you and the boys … I never, not once ever thought I could lose you guys. I mean, you’re immortal. I was supposed to have you forever. And it makes me think, if it is possible, that means I could lose Octavian. I could lose my boys.” Her breath hitched with a sob. “I could lose you guys, and I can’t. I’m not strong enough for that.”

Not sure what to do, Zara took a step forward and pulled the girl into her arms. Her thin back heaved with jagged sobs. Each one splintered and shattered in her chest, creating a million fragmented shards of agony. Her fingers twisted into Zara’s top, bunching the fabric as she wept against her shoulder.

“I already lost Kyaerin and Imogen, I can’t … not Reggie, too.”

She had no words of comfort. What Riley needed, Zara was powerless to provide, except to lie, and lying wouldn’t erase the reality of what was definite. It only left one other option, and she hated to do it, but there was no other choice.

She called for Octavian, a silent signal to him only. And he appeared, almost as if materializing out of thin air. His enormous frame stalked to where Zara stood with his wife, and without a word, took the tiny redhead up into his arms.

Riley clung to him, thin arms going tight around his neck. She buried her face into his shoulder and the two melted back into the shadows of the corridor.

Then it was just her and the door she dreaded crossing, but Reggie needed her. He’d faced an entire kingdom of dragons for her. She could handle one grieving father for him.

Pulling in her courage, she reached up and lightly knocked. It was barely a tap of her knuckles, yet the sound rumbled along the wall. It made her hold her breath while she waited.

It opened just when she was beginning to think maybe he wasn’t inside. He stood in his usual trousers and dress shirt, his hair neatly combed back from his cleanly shaven face. If it wasn’t for the numbness of his mind and the emptiness inside him, she never would have guessed anything was wrong.

Vacant, blue eyes peered at her, void of its usual twinkle. The pupils were much too large for her peace of mind, but that wasn’t a priority, nor was anything else when her own mind had gone blank. She couldn’t for the life of her think of a single thing to say.

“Was there something I could help you with?” he asked at last in a monotone mumbled nothing like his warm baritone.

“I wanted to see how you were,” she began, deciding it was a good place to start.

“My wife is dead.” It was said flat, a simple statement of fact.

It made her shudder.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He nodded slowly. “You said.”

It was nearly impossible to tell if he was angry with her, if he hated her. His mind was barely there, almost like someone deprived of sleep for too long. It was fuzzy around the edges and echoed with a hollowness that seemed infinite. She wondered if he’d been sleeping at all.

“I don’t want to bother you, but I need to talk to you about Reggie.”

Something flickered behind his eyes, a spark of life that filled her with a small sprinkling of hope.

“Reggie?”

Zara nodded. “You need to tell the others not to keep him locked up in here. It’s going to cause more harm than good and Reggie—”

“That’s not what Kyaerin wanted.”

“No, but it’s not fair to Reggie. You’re isolating him, almost punishing him for something he can’t stop.”

“My sons are all I have left. I can’t let him die, too.”

“I understand. I know you’re trying to protect him, but you can’t. Not like this. Keeping him here, he could lose his mind. He could fall into a depression he can’t climb out of. He could leave and never return. He doesn’t know why he’s being punished.” She paused to catch her breath and to let it all sink in for him. “Please, please just tell them to stop. Do it for Reggie.”

He seemed to be considering it on the outside. Inside his mind had begun to fade out again, drifting into that lazy gray pool she couldn’t follow. It became clear there was no reasoning with him. She needed to talk to Octavian. He was the only one who could put a stop to it.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She started turning, but the idea of leaving infuriated her. “No!” She spun just as he started closing the door. Her palm slapped into the smooth wood, ceasing its progress. “Stop it!” she snapped. “You need to stop. Your son needs you. All of them.” She lowered her hand and gentled her tone. “Now, I’m sorry. I am so sorry about Kyaerin. I can’t imagine how you feel. No one can. But your boys just lost their mother. Don’t let them lose you, too.”

Liam stared at her, blank nothingness never wavering. It became clear after a minute that he wasn’t going to do anything, not out of choice, but a lack of motivation. There was no question that he loved his kids, but he didn’t know what to do with them without his wife. Or maybe they just reminded him too much of her. Whatever the reason, she needed a new way to reach him, for Reggie’s sake.

She returned downstairs, mind lost in the sand. It ran between her fingers too fast, never giving her a chance to catch up. All around her, everything was closing in, everything that needed to be done before something horrible happened. They needed to convince the leaders to fight with them. They needed to protect Reggie. They needed an answer from the angels. She needed to take a throne she didn’t know she wanted. So much. Too much.

“Hey, you’re not going to faint, are you?”

Valkyrie clacked into the room, clad in soft, black leather. The hilt of a sword peeked from over her shoulder, emphasizing the riot of thick curls tumbling around her shoulders, a harsh contrast to the milky white of her skin. The top had no sleeves or lower half. The front plunged deep in a wide V that framed round, firm breasts. Between the hem and the waist band of her pants were miles of hard, toned muscle that trimmed her waist and curved her hips. The pants clung to shapely thighs as though painted on before disappearing into the tops of her boot.

She was stunning … and the most dangerous creature Zara had ever met.

“No, I’m fine.”

Valkyrie eyed her while stuffing long, elegant fingers through fingerless gloves.

“You worried about the meeting?”

Oddly enough, Zara hadn’t given the situation the proper deliberation it deserved, although, she mused she probably should have.

She shook her head.

“Good. It’s going to be fine. Octavian knows what he’s doing. He’s ready for this.”

It was Zara’s turn to squint at the woman. “Are you comforting me?”

The right side of Valkyrie’s crimson mouth lifted. It turned up in a grin that was frighteningly normal given that the woman was armed to the teeth. She scratched with red talons at her jaw, contemplating how not to laugh.

“Maybe,” she said at last and moved around her. “Just don’t tell the others. They get all sentimental about it, like they’re amazed I can actually be normal.” She sighed and shook her head. “I sometimes wonder what my purpose is in this family.”

Zara turned with her. “I think you are normal. You’re not very nice and you lack basic sympathy—”

“Hey!” She chuckled softly. “Easy. I was trying to be nice.”

“But you’re logical,” Zara went on. “You tell people what they need to hear when they only want to hear what they want. You’re hard, unrelenting, and sometimes cold, but you’ve had to be to survive. You’re not used to these people. They don’t make sense to you. Their love is weakness you can’t understand, but you want it. You crave what they have. You want to be part of it, but it embarrasses you, because you were taught that love was something to be ashamed of. Yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted from your father. Even after all he did to you, you wanted to make him proud. But your father never loved anyone, especially not you.”

“Jesus,” Valkyrie muttered. “Fuck you.”

Zara stayed still, lost in the wave of the woman’s thoughts and feelings. Unlike Imogen’s rainbow, Valkyrie was gray steel. It mashed rather than flowed. Its stiff, unyielding surface remained unattached to anything, as if by touching, the whole structure might collapse.

“You bring balance to this family,” Zara continued. “They are so reckless, like children. You keep them on the path. You’re the voice of reason. That is your purpose, like love is Riley’s. She’s all heart. You’re all brains. Together, you’re a balance. You should never change.”

Valkyrie said nothing for a long stretch of time, even after Zara had untangled herself from the steel wired web. She studied Zara the way one might an adorable, but dangerous creature.

“And what are you?”

Zara didn’t even hesitate. She had always known exactly what she was, what her purpose was.

“I am sorrow and grief. I am the bringer of prophecies. I will never be loved, for I bring the thing all creatures fear—death.”

In the back of Valkyrie’s mind, there was a glimmer, a tiny voice urging her to deny what the front part of her brain agreed with whole heartedly. She wanted to assure Zara that wasn’t true, but without evidence, she didn’t think she could make a proper case.

Zara grinned humorlessly. “It’s okay. I’ve accepted it.”

“You’re wrong though.” Toned arms folded just beneath her generous chest, pushing the mounds dangerously close to spilling out of the V. “Magnus loves you. Reggie, Riley, Octavian, and Gideon care about you. I sometimes like you.” She smirked as if sharing a private joke. “I know Kyaerin was a bit weird, but I think once you guys found your common ground, it would have been fine.”

Zara disagreed. Even if she had formed a tenuous relationship with Kyaerin, the moment Reggie died, Kyaerin would never have forgiven her. She was like Magnus in that aspect. They held on to their anger, their bitter resentment until it festered and devoured every part of them. They hated like they loved, completely and with everything. Zara was under no illusion that she and Kyaerin would have ever been anything but hostile.

But she said nothing of the sort to the Harvester. For her, like the rest of them, they needed to hang on to the Kyaerin they knew, the sweet, nurturing mother who loved her sons and cherished her daughters. They wanted to believe her of no ill thought, nothing but white lights and glitter. It wasn’t her place to show them differently.

“Perhaps.”

Gideon stepped into the room holding Valkyrie’s coat, his strides long and wide. He marched to where his wife stood. His attention went to her first before bouncing to Zara.

“Everything okay?”

Valkyrie nodded. “Just girl talk.” She faced him. “Ready?”

Zara took a step back as if they’re departure required a vast amount of space. She watched as Gideon helped Valkyrie with her coat. He hooked her long mane with his fingers and released them from the collar. The skin of her neck was brushed with a kiss and a quiet murmur that made her giggle and blush. Zara firmly stayed out of his head. The few times she had grabbed snatches of thought, they were always things involving getting his wife naked. She wasn’t sure if that was all he thought about, but it had been enough to keep her out.

“Can you let Octavian know we’re heading out?” He peered over at Zara. “We’ll meet you guys at the leaders.”

Zara nodded.

“Watch over the peeps, yeah?” Gideon’s face grew serious. “Dragonize them or whatever if you have to.”

Zara and Valkyrie both raised an eyebrow.

“Dragonize?” Valkyrie said before Zara could.

Gideon never looked away from Zara. “Z knows what I’m talking about.”

“To be clear,” Valkyrie glanced over her shoulder at Zara, “he doesn’t mean dragonize our peeps.”

“Right,” Gideon confirmed. “The other peeps. Dragonize them.” He scowled down at his wife. “You just made that way more complicated then it needed to be.”

“I made it complicated? Dragonize them? Seriously?”

He nudged her towards the door. “It was cool. The perfect exiting line.”

“Perfect exiting line,” Valkyrie repeated slowly, as if questioning Gideon’s sanity. “Who are you?”

He poked her side. “Get out, woman.”

They left with a quiet click of the door shutting behind them. No sooner had one door closed when the kitchen doors opened and Magnus walked out holding their coats. His expression of exasperation dissolved into one of relief when he spotted her.

“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.” He closed the distance between them. “Everything okay?”

“Gideon and Valkyrie left,” she said instead.

His gaze flicked to the front door, then back down to her. “What’s wrong?”

She considered telling him nothing. Lying was becoming second nature, a habit she wasn’t sure she liked given that she hated doing it, especially to him, but telling the truth never seemed to go over very well with this family.

Nevertheless, the moment her mouth opened, she found herself telling him exactly what was on her mind.

“Reggie. You need to talk to Octavian.”

“Zara…”

She cut him off. “What you are doing is dangerous. I know it’s coming from a good place, but the consequences are disastrous.”

“Did you see something?”

It occurred to her that she could say yes and end it there, but she shook her head.

He sighed and set their coats on a nearby table. “Look, let’s just get through all this. There’s already so much on our plates. Once things settle down, we’ll—”

“They will never settle down,” she warned him. “There is a war coming. It’s nearly at our doorstep. Wars don’t end overnight. How long do you plan to keep Reggie locked up in this place?”

He said nothing and she knew she had him. There was no counter argument to that.

“Okay,” he said at last. “I’ll talk to Octavian.”

Relief rose up over her, rinsing away some of the creeping darkness lingering around her soul. It eased the tightness confining her chest and she exhaled for what felt like the first time in ages.

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “Anything else?”

“No.” It amazed her how easily she fell right back into the lying.

He took her hand and led her to a nearby table. But rather than pull out seats, he settled his backside on the edge and pulled her between his knees. His hands rested on her hips, warm weights keeping her in place. The comforting gesture swayed her into him, had her hands setting on his strong shoulders and leaning in.

“You sure?”

She peered up at him, searching his eyes, wondering if she could tell him. She knew she could, but the constriction of time restrained her; the others would be arriving shortly and the conversation she wanted to have needed complete dedication.

“Maybe later.”

The hand on her right hip lifted and caught a stray strand of hair caught on her upper lip. He brushed it aside gently.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promised quietly.

A wedge caught in her throat and she’d never been so happy not to be able to actually speak.

“What will?”

He tugged her closer. “Everything.”

It was illogical for him to make such an assumption. The world was coming apart around them and the entire human race depended on them winning a war between angels and demons. There was no guarantee any of them would make it out alive.

Yet his eyes were so sure. The absolute certainty in them as they pulled her in made it impossible to deny everything he said.

Their moment was stolen by the arrival of the others. Riley filed in with Octavian straight behind her. Both were dressed simply, but carefully. He had switched his usual cargos for black trousers and a black, wool sweater. Riley wore black tights under an adorable red dress with a patchwork of black daisies. She’d pinned her hair back at the temples and curled the sleek strands. It almost made Zara wish she’d used the twenty minutes to maybe run a brush through her own air-dried locks. Compared to them, she and Magnus were severely under dressed.

“Should we have changed?” she asked Magnus silently.

Magnus shrugged. “I feel like maybe?”

He didn’t seem too bad. His outfit almost mirrored Octavian’s, but she was in white tights with a long, mint green sweater.

“Ready?” Octavian turned to them, flipping down the collar of his coat.

With no other options, they both nodded.

“We should let Agnus know we’re leaving,” Zara thought as she and Magnus straightened.

“I already did.” He took her coat off the table and shook it open for her.

She slipped her arms into the sleeve. “You did?”

He nodded, but Riley spoke.

“She’s helping Reggie watch the boys.”

“Oh.”

But it still felt like she should go up and see the girl and let her know they’d be back soon. It was an odd sensation deep in her chest she couldn’t shake.

“You can run up quickly, if you want,” Riley prompted. “We’ll meet you at the car.”

Offering her a quick smile, Zara hurried from the room. She jogged up the stairs and sprinted in the direction of the parlor. The sound of Alec’s giggles greeted her before she even stepped over the threshold.

All three were on the floor where the coffee table used to be. Their little faces turned up when she walked in. Alec beamed and offered her a broken, white crayon.

“Hey.” She knelt and accepted it with a light ruffle of his hair. “I wanted to say we’ll be back soon.” She glanced over at Agnus. “Do you need anything?”

The girl shrugged. “Not really. I wouldn’t say no to a chocolate bar, though.”

Zara chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.” She returned Alec’s crayon. “Be good, okay?”

With a final smile at each of them, she pushed to her feet and turned, and stopped. Reggie stood in the doorway, arms closed tight across his chest, expression already telling her what he was about to say without her reading his mind.

“Reg…” She went to him and set a gentle hand on his upper arm where the muscles were as tense as he was through the soft edge of his t-shirt. “I’m working on it, okay?”

He captured her wrist before she could pull away and dragged her out into the corridor with him.

“Working on what? What’s going on?” he pressed. “Come on, Zara. This isn’t fair.”

“I know.” She took a shallow breath, hoping the delay might help her think of something to say, but he was still watching her when she looked up. His eyes were still pleading with her. “Do you trust me?”

She expected him to think about it, even for a split second, but he nodded without hesitation.

“Of course.”

His unwavering conviction put a lump in her throat and needles behind her eyes. She had to blink several times before she could look at him properly.

“Then I’m asking you to trust me.”

With a squeeze of his hand, she started to pull away only to be caught before she could take the first step.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

The simple way he said it broke her heart. The tears she’d been fighting clung to her lashes, threatening to take the plunge.

She shook her head. “Not if I can help it.”

With that, she left him alone in the corridor.

Magnus was already waiting for her when she returned to the diner. He took one look at her face and pursed his lips.

“Reggie.”

She said nothing, but made her way to the door. He followed without pushing.

They took Octavian’s car, a sleek black machine smaller than Reggie’s, but much larger than the sliver of plastic and metal Magnus rode on like a horse. The interior smelled of warm leather and frost. The seat molded her to it in a cushiony cradle. It almost made her not want to leave its loving confines when Octavian turned them down an unmarked path barely visible from the road.

It was unclear the length of time it took to reach their destination, but the sun hung low behind them, a waning ball of light that dimmed drastically when the wall of trees enclosed them from all sides. Their naked branches clacked ominously overhead, the chilling sound of insects preparing to strike. Shadows loomed behind slumbering trunks, bare in the winter cold. They clustered together, thin and crooked, old men huddled for warmth. It was enough to make her shudder in her cozy seat.

“It’s so creepy,” Riley voiced as if reading Zara’s mind. “Are you sure you’re going the right way?”

The car rattled as they went over knotted roots jutting up along the center of the path. Everything clattered together dangerously, jarring several of Zara’s teeth loose.

“This is the way,” Octavian assured.

The road continued for miles, climbing deeper into the approaching darkness until there was nothing to guide them, but the sharp beams spearing from the front of the car. The spill of light turned a thin sliver of space ahead a sickly yellow, not nearly wide enough to properly navigate.

But at long last, they broke through and came to a stone arch guarding an old, stone bridge. It was impossible to judge the exact depth below, but none of them felt safe crossing over until they’d cleared the second arch and found themselves in a wide, circular driveway.

“Welcome to the Addams Family mansion,” Riley mumbled, peering through the front window at the voluminous structure rising high into the night sky.

It wasn’t Final Judgment and it definitely wasn’t the south’s gold castle. What it was, was a crumbling abyss of nightmares shadowed by stretching claws of fear. All around, everything shimmered with a dull gray glitter. It powdered the cracked fountain in the center of the driveway, a fine coating of dust, and clung to dark panes of glass. Not a single light shone anywhere. Every hulking corner of it sat hunched in the darkness, a predator waiting for its next meal. Windows glowered down from the stone face, dozens of them spanning wide on either side for what seemed like miles in both directions. In the heart, tucked at the base like a monstrous mouth, sat a single, wooden door large enough to fit an entire house easily.

“Anyone else suddenly need to use the washroom?” Riley whispered as they all piled from the car and stood facing the structure.

“Zara?”

She pulled her focus away from the creaking vines weaving across every surface and turned to Octavian. “Yes?”

“Anything?”

She’d been preoccupied with the façade that she hadn’t thought to sense for life. She wasn’t sure it was necessary. The place was clearly abandoned. But she splintered her concentration, binding the three next to her to a separate compartment in her mind while sending a thin thread out towards the structure.

“I don’t…” The blip was faint, a distant flicker of thought. It was so far and so soft, she almost didn’t even consider it, but it was there, just out of reach. “There’s something inside. I can’t…”

Following the fine vein, she started forward, moving towards the front doors. Snow and brittle branches snapped beneath her feet, announcing her progress to the bottom steps.

She paused. Her head tilted left, her ears straining. The trio with her also listened.

“Is that a heartbeat?” Riley asked.

“Why would there be a heartbeat in a den of vampires?” Magnus asked.

But it was, and it wasn’t weak or sickly, but strong and fierce.

“Maybe we’re interrupting supper…” Riley mumbled.

Octavian started forward. He ascended the steps towards the doors. The rest followed suit, keeping close together as they reached the top.

Octavian paused and shared a quick glance with his brother. Neither said a word, but a mutual decision had been made.

Satisfied, Octavian knocked, three powerful raps of his knuckles.

The sound reverberated along the walls and vibrated down the windows. It echoed far and deep somewhere inside. It was still going when a bolt cracked open and hinges squealed. Only a square portion of the bottom half of the door actually opened.

A man stood on the other side, an impossibly gorgeous man entirely in black. Thick, ebony strands hung in shiny waves around a finely chiseled face made for poetry. Penetrating eyes sat in the center of an ivory foundation, pools of dominating crimson so bright, they seemed to glow. They drifted unhurriedly from Zara and settled on Riley. A lazy sweep of someone with eons to spare. Something akin to interest almost quirked one eyebrow, but it was gone before any of them could be certain it was even there. Zara struggled to pick his mind, to snatch up even a single stray thought, but his mind was a tomb, a hollow grave lined in the same, gray dust as outside. It was a tunnel of cobwebs and stone, and endless yawning of darkness that immediately made Zara pull out.

“You must be Octavian.” That cool gaze swayed to Octavian. “We have been expecting you.”

The man glided back and motioned them in with a graceful sweep of his arm.

The foyer opened to a cavernous ceiling as tall as the doors. With high arches and hand carved design. Stairways circled overhead in a square spiral, going dim as they faded into the shadows.

Below, everything hung in darkness softened by dull flickers of light barely large enough, or bright enough to make a difference. The little punctures of relief tumbled deep into what appeared to be corridors branching off in three separate directions.

“You have a beautiful home,” Riley blurted, interrupting the silence.

Both corners of a hauntingly perfect mouth rose in an almost cat-like grin. “Thank you.” He shut the door, sealing them in. “I am Marcus.”

There was a hint of something foreign in his smooth lilt, an accent Zara didn’t recognize, but it held just a hint of a purr that could easily caress a woman’s spine like a lover’s fingertip.

“Of course you are,” Riley breathed in an almost squeak. “Because you look like a Marcus. I mean it’s a very Marcus face. It’s a good face. Oh my God, why can’t I stop?”

If she’d had a heart, Zara had a feeling it would have been thundering with nerves, and maybe a slight fluster. She couldn’t blame the girl. The man had a quality about him that lured the eyes and tempted the flesh. She wasn’t entirely immune, but she was older than Riley and slightly more resistant to the allure.

“What my wife means to say,” Octavian stepped forward, hand extended. “Thank you for seeing us.”

Marcus slid a long, pale hand into the one offered and gave it a firm shake. “The pleasure is ours.” He released Octavian and turned the same hand to Magnus. “Your letter stated it was something of an urgency.”

The hand wasn’t offered to Zara or Riley. It would have seemed rude, except neither Zara nor Riley actually wanted to touch him. Zara because contact always made the voices too loud and Riley because she couldn’t trust herself to let go.

“It is,” Octavian assured him.

Marcus inclined his head once and gestured them to follow.

He moved as though his feet never touched the floor. His every motion was flawless, effortless, the silent glide of a ghost. In comparison, Riley’s and Zara’s heels clapped like combined bursts of lightning. Each one echoed all around them, disturbing the hush.

Marcus stayed ahead of them by several feet, offering a small amount of privacy for Riley to look at Octavian, horrified and mortified.

“I am so sorry,” she hissed. “I have no idea what came over me.”

Octavian pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “It’s fine,” he whispered back.

Riley started. “It is?”

He only nodded in response, but directed his question to Zara. “Anything?”

She shook her head. “He’s too old. His mind tastes of ashes and death.”

Riley recoiled, but kept her mouth shut.

Octavian sighed. “Keep trying.”

They drifted deeper into the catacomb, passing what may have been doors or paintings, but the shadows were too thick.

The corridor ended at a set of stairs draped in faded carpet and a faintly lit chandelier suspended over a circular room far below. The light chased back the pressing darkness, creating a halo around a sitting area made up of deep, leather sofas and armchairs. Two figures were already seated around a glass coffee table. Only one had actual thoughts, because only the one was alive. The other was a man as equally beautiful as Marcus with a neatly trimmed cap of hair buzzed short in the back and left longer at the front. There was prominence in his nose and in the hard cut of his jaw, a nobility bred from a long line of aristocracy. He sat with the reclined grace of a man unaccustomed to concern, but there was rigid tension in every line of his body, a wary coil of a large animal waiting to strike. Bold eyes the same red as Marcus’s hung with suspended enrapture on the woman seated across from him, but lifted lazily when Octavian’s group entered the space.

Like Marcus, his gaze went from Zara to Riley and paused, but not nearly as long when travelling to Marcus.

Marcus led them to the lip of the square carpet and stopped.

“Our guests have arrived.” He shifted aside so the two could see Octavian’s group clearly.

Like Marcus and the other man, the woman was fair in her complexion. Her hair was the soft black of a cloudless night and she had an air that was beautiful in any century. But unlike her companions, she had a warm, rosy flush to her cheeks and blood coursing through her veins. Her eyes were a glowing blue of polished sapphires and sat in the center of a heart shaped foundation. Full, pink lips curved in a polite smile, but there was tension in the corners, an uncertainty that rang in her head as she peered at each of them carefully.

“This is my companion Edmund,” Marcus introduced, motioning to the man. “And our guest Victoria.”

Octavian stepped forward as Edmund rose to his feet. The two clasped hands in a firm shake.

“I’m Octavian.” He took a step back and motioned the rest of them forward. “This is my wife Riley, my brother Magnus, and his wife Zara.”

Edmund took Magnus’s hand, but didn’t extend the same greeting to Zara or Riley. Zara wondered if it was a strigoi custom not to shake a woman’s hand.

“It is a pleasure,” Edmund said with the same satin drawl. “It has been a long time since we have had veil children visit us. Please.” He gestured with one hand at the empty spots even as he lowered himself back into the armchair.

Marcus claimed the spot next to the woman, leaving one full sofa and an armchair empty.

Octavian took the armchair. Magnus took the sofa with Riley and Zara on either side of him.

“What can we do for you?” Marcus began, leaning back in his seat.

“We would like for you to join us in the war.”