Dark Awakening

The two vampires circled each other. Damien sprang again, and Ty grabbed him by the shirt, leaping and slamming Damien against the alley wall with incredible force. The air left Damien in a loud, pained grunt as Ty threw him to the ground and stepped back, breathing hard, waiting.



“Get up. Get up, you son of a bitch.”



Damien wiped a thin line of blood that had trickled from his lip and got smoothly to his feet.



“Angry little kitten tonight, are we?”



The mocking tone tore into him. With a roar of outrage, this time Ty sprang. Damien started to spin away, but Ty, his reflexes honed from years of living with vampires who would as soon kill him as look at him, was faster. He caught Damien by his hair, then landed lightly on his feet. Ty jerked Damien’s head back, exposing his neck, and brought him to his knees with a well-placed kick. The Shade went down with a grunt. Ty had his dagger out in a flash.



“Kill me, then, if it makes you feel better,” Damien ground out. His eyes blazed up at him as Ty pulled his head even farther back and pressed the edge of his blade to Damien’s neck. Damien’s teeth were still bared, in both defiance and pain.



“Nothing can make me feel better,” Ty growled harshly. “You led them right to us, you son of a bitch. They must have followed you.”



“Impossible,” Damien snapped, wincing as the tip of the blade dug in just enough to produce a shining crimson drop of blood. “He wouldn’t have—”



He stopped himself, but he had already said enough. Dark suspicion bloomed in Ty’s mind. He dug the blade in deeper, viciously pleased at Damien’s soft moan.



“Wouldn’t have sent them after you? Are you working for one of the Ptolemy?”



Damien’s silent glare was answer enough for Ty. The truth felt as though it had blown a hole right through him. The terror had come from within the Ptolemy themselves. And though even the most distasteful highbloods of Ty’s acquaintance would have found it unthinkable to slaughter their own, there was one he would not put it past. One who would never be satisfied with a subordinate role, no matter how close to the top of the heap he had clawed.



All the pieces clicked into place.



His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke again, and the hand holding the blade shook with the force it was taking him to keep from plunging it into Damien’s throat.



“You stupid bastard. Nero has no loyalty to anyone but himself. And he’s neither a trusting nor a patient man. You really thought he wasn’t having you followed?”



The truth was written all over Damien’s stunned face. With a bitter laugh, Ty leaned closer to the Shade dangling from his clenched fist.



“All this work, for nothing. You’ve ruined my life, probably ended hers, and you didn’t even get paid. I’ll bet that last bit is the only thing you’re truly upset about, you miserable sack of shit.”



Damien’s breath came in short, sharp pants. “Just kill me and get it over with.”



“You’d prefer that, I’m sure. It’s so much easier than what your bosses will do to you once they discover you’ve screwed up such a big job.” Still, Ty was close, so close, to giving Damien what he wanted. A bit of pressure, and Damien’s head would separate from his body cleanly. The perfect outlet for his rage… but Ty knew it would be only momentarily satisfying.



He felt the life he held in his hands. He had taken many just the same as this and had felt nothing afterward. Then he looked at the building beside him, at the darkened windows behind which Rogan’s lifeless body now lay.



So much death. But Lily was still alive out there. And as long as she lived, he had a chance to right things, to start again. When he looked back at Damien, there was still raw anger, but cold calculation had begun to kick in as well. Perhaps he would give his blood brother a second chance tonight as well.



Whether he wanted it or not.



“No. You’re going to help me get Lily back,” Ty growled.



Damien managed a harsh laugh. “The hell I am.”



In response, Ty took the blade he’d had against the Shade’s neck and brought it down in a swift arc, slicing a deep wound in Damien’s upper arm. Blood spattered the ground, and Damien snarled in pain, trying to jerk away from Ty. It only made Ty pull his hair harder.



“The hell you won’t. It’s this or I return you to your masters, Damien, with all sorts of details about your incompetence. Things that will earn you a long, painful death. And I’ll get Lily anyway. Nothing is going to stop me. But your help would make it easier. And if you help me, I’ll make sure you live.”



“How?” sneered Damien. “My reputation will be ruined. You’ll be delaying the inevitable, not preventing it. The Master Shades don’t permit failure.” His wound bled for only a moment, but the point had been made. Ty had no compunctions about hurting him. And he would do it again.



“I’m afraid you’ll have to trust me on that,” Ty said flatly. He had some ideas, but none would amount to anything if they didn’t get going, and soon.



“Trust,” Damien hissed. “The only thing I trust is that you’ll get us both killed. Even if I go along with this insanity, two Cait Sith are not going to accomplish this.”



Ty considered a moment longer, but he’d already made his decision. Damien was insufferable on many levels, but he would be an invaluable source of knowledge for what he was about to embark on. And if he turned on him, which he might, Ty would kill him with no remorse.



“We’ll just have to make do. Are you going to behave, or am I going to have to remove the arm this time?”



Damien grimaced and twisted a little beneath Ty’s hand, but at last he relented. “Fine. Only because it’s a better death than what my masters would give me. You’re a miserable bastard, MacGillivray. Far worse than I remembered. And under the circumstances, that is not a compliment. Now let me go.”



Ty released his head, and Damien got slowly to his feet, watching him warily.



“What is your plan? Or am I not allowed to ask?” he said.



“We’re going to convince Vlad Dracul to help us destroy Nero and save Lily.” It sounded like madness, Ty knew. But it was what he had.



Damien groaned and looked like he was going to be sick. It was deeply satisfying.



“Damn it, Ty, why do you even care? They’ll kill us, kill her. Nero will get what he wants. And believe me, he wants it all. I’ve never met a monster like him, and that’s saying something. This is pointless!”



“I love her.” There they were, those words he hadn’t been able to say, even to himself, until it was too late. The one thing in his entire life he was still sure of.



Damien looked aghast. “I’m going to die for some pathetic sentiment? Listen to me, Ty. Two cats cannot do this. We would need at least a third, and even then there’s only the barest chance.”



Another voice, both familiar and welcome, sounded at Ty’s side. “Good thing I see three cats, then.”



“Jaden.” Relief flooded through him and nearly brought him to his knees. This was the missing piece. The three of them could manage what he was thinking. Yes, with two other Cait, he had a fighting chance of setting this right. If they made it through, things would change, and drastically. He was done with the Ptolemy. But so much more awaited him, if he was strong enough to catch hold of it. His blood brother’s black-rimmed eyes were somber when Ty turned to look at him.



“I heard about the raid,” Jaden said. “I came as quickly as I could.”



“It was Nero,” Ty said, and the name tasted like poison on his tongue. “All of it was Nero.”



Jaden looked grim, but unsurprised. He gave a single nod. “What do you want to do?”



“He wants to die,” Damien snapped. “And he’d like you to join us, no doubt.”



Jaden raised his eyebrows at Damien, then turned a questioning look on Ty.



“Damien’s coming with us. I’ll explain on the way. We haven’t got much time,” Ty said. He was grateful when Jaden only nodded again. Damien gave nothing but a resigned sigh, and Ty knew he would have the help he needed from him as well. Now all he needed was luck, and time.



He hoped, for once in his life, the gods would see fit to give him both.



Vlad Dracul was not a man who enjoyed a great deal of company. Particularly not these days, when most of his visitors either wanted to kill him or were bearing messages from people who did. So he was less than receptive to the idea when Marco, his butler, arrived in the doorway of the library with the news that a trio of Cait Sith were darkening his doorstep and refusing to leave without an audience.



“Another message from Arsinöe, I suppose?” Vlad asked, carefully marking his place in the book he’d just settled down with for the evening and setting it aside. He’d been increasingly on edge the past few weeks, waiting for the declaration of war he knew was coming. The Ptolemy queen had always hated him, but until recently, even he had not realized how deep that hatred ran.



“I don’t think so, sir. They’re a bit… scruffier… than her usual messengers. One looks like he’s been in a fight. I made them show me their marks. The one with the black eye is a Shade, if you can believe it. The other two are Ptolemy cats, but there’s something off about them.”



“There’s no woman with them?” Vlad asked, trying to keep his voice even. When Anura had come to him, he’d hardly dared to believe her words could be true. The mysteries and legends surrounding the long-dead Lilim were a particular preoccupation of his. Maybe it was because he’d always thought that Lilith would have been a natural ally of his. Why wouldn’t an heir? And now, more than ever, he needed a reliable ally, Vlad thought, his jaw tightening.



But it seemed that whoever this woman Anura had met was, she had slipped through his fingers.



“They gave you no indication of what they want?” Vlad asked.



Marco shook his head. “No, sir. The tall one, one of the Ptolemy cats, said he’d talk only to you. I would have found a way to get them off the property, but considering…” Marco trailed off, and Vlad knew what he was thinking. Ludo had done plenty of talking before Vlad had gotten to him and told him to shut up.