Varick
The next morning, Brendan called a meeting in his office inviting those who wanted to attend the game. Much to Thames' disappointment, she'd accepted she couldn't play a part in the plan. Kodiak had decided to stay with her and Nadine had no interest in going, which left five of us still volunteering to go. Me, Selena, Kite, Cass and the Siren, Ned.
Nirena and Darrell walked into the office, moving behind Brendan's desk, gazing at us all in admiration.
Brendan kept glancing at the clock.
“What's the matter?” Selena asked.
“There's been a development,” he replied, but before he could explain two people walked in the door. In an instant, I was both relieved and irrepressibly angry. Jameson had a sideways grin on his lips as he led Mercy into the room.
“Miss me?” He furled a brow and I ran at him. In a heartbeat, I had him pinned against the wall by the throat. Mercy went flying.
“What the hell were you playing at?” I roared, emotion racing through me.
Jameson laughed, gripping my arm. “Va-rick. Can't br-eathe.”
I snatched my hand back and he slumped against the wall, still smiling. “Mercy and I were working out our issues.”
I swivelled toward Mercy who had freshly washed hair, and was dressed in a pair of jeans and an over sized t-shirt. “I want to help you.” Her eyes sparkled at me. Christ, what was going on?
“Help us?” Cass spat, moving toward Mercy like a hawk narrowing in on its prey. She shot a glare at Jameson, practically snarling. “She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't know anything about what we're planning.”
Jameson held up a hand, his eyes drifting casually down Cass's body. “Um, yeah, change of plan, Firefly. Baby H stays.”
“No way,” Kite snarled, fangs on show. “Mercy's ten shades of screwed up.”
“She can't be trusted,” Selena agreed, looking to Brendan.
Brendan folded his arms, leaning back against his mahogany desk. Nirena and Darrell shared a look that said they weren't sure either.
“I have spoken with Jameson and believe Mercy wishes to assist us. Of course, it will require an inordinate amount of trust from you all. But if she stays true to her word, we will have an extra hand in this mission. Someone who can keep a direct eye on Katherine and Abraham.”
“You're going to send her back to them?!” I bellowed, having half a mind to snap Mercy's neck before this plan was even remotely put in to place.
Brendan nodded slowly. “Yes, but not without precaution. Jameson gave me the idea to rig her up with the same technology her family used on the contestants.” He took something out of his pocket, holding it up to the light. “A poison capsule that Kite will have control over.”
Kite's hard expression melted to delight. “I get the detonator?”
Mercy shifted uncomfortably as Brendan nodded. “You will head to the game under the guise that you are still in Mercy's command.”
Kite nodded keenly, then pointed to the back of her head. “What about the silver capsule in my head? It's still in there.”
“I'll have someone remove it before you leave,” Brendan answered.
Kite looked to Mercy, grinning darkly. “So you're gonna let us kill your parents?”
Mercy opened and closed her mouth, drawing herself up to her tallest height. “I don't want them to be hurt. That's my condition for helping you.” Her eyes strayed to me.
I tsked my disdain, keeping my eyes on Brendan. “She will betray us the first moment she gets. And surely the whole point of this plan is to kill the Helsings?”
Brendan shook his head, pointing a finger at me. “No. The point of this operation will be to end the games. That is what's most important. You'll be required to kill enough Hunters and spectators so that future games will be improbable.”
“Improbable?” Kite said the word like it tasted foul.
“The Helsings will run games so long as they're still breathing,” I insisted, every muscle in my body hardening to steel.
“I believe not,” Brendan countered calmly, evidently not affected by my show of aggression. “There are only a certain amount of people in the world willing to take part in such an event. So long as they are dead, there can be no more games.”
“There's plenty of bastards in the world,” Cass supplied, nodding her unison with me.
Brendan surveyed us all, splaying his hands behind him on the desk. “This plan will be conducted under my orders. I'm asking for a very small sacrifice that will ensure we win this fight. Mercy can give us insight into the entire game. Her parents will speak freely to her about the security in place there, about what we need to watch out for to ensure you all get out alive. And Kite will make sure she does not give you away.”
I nodded at last, but had no intention of keeping my word. “If it's the only way.”
“It is,” Brendan confirmed.
Selena held my eye for a moment, a promise in it. Yes, we'd play by the rules for now. But not if we got our chance to kill the Helsings. I wondered if Brendan knew that, too. Perhaps this deal with Mercy was simply a ruse to keep her on side.
Selena moved toward Mercy, pausing and looking to Jameson. “Why do you trust her?”
Jameson kicked off of the wall I'd strangled him against. “I took her to Raskdød. I planned to blow her up along with her sadist parents. But no one was there. So I took out the castle, the workers.” He shrugged. “Mercy and I had a nice little chat after. And I believe she wants the games to stop, too.”
Cass huffed, folding her arms. “I'm not agreeing to keep my teeth out of her parents if I get near them.”
Brendan stood up straight, glaring at her. “If you cannot follow orders, you will not go at all.”
Cass clenched her jaw, but remained quiet.
Brendan started pacing. “I never promised you the Helsings' heads. I offered you a part in this plan.” He turned on his heel, glaring around at us. “If you cannot do as I say, then there's the door.” He pointed, but no one moved.
I glanced at Ned who was yet to say anything, but he remained still, his eyes focused on Brendan.
“We take out the games.” Selena stepped forward. “That's enough.”
“Good,” Brendan breathed. “Anyone have a problem with that?” Still, no one moved. He pointed to me then Jameson. “Go with Darrell, he'll get you in shape. And you two.” He pointed to Selena and Cass. “Go with Nirena. When they're finished getting you ready return here and I'll brief you.”
“What about me?” Ned spoke for the first time.
Brendan folded his arms. “I'll speak with you, Kite and Mercy now.” He gestured toward the door when none of us moved and I followed Darrell out, closely followed by Jameson.
I didn't get a chance to speak with Selena as Darrell guided us in the opposite direction to where Nirena was taking her.
“It's good to see you, brother,” Jameson said, falling in to step at my side.
I grunted a response, still angry with him for taking off.
“You're mad at me,” he stated.
“What did you think you were doing, disappearing out of here with Mercy?” I hissed.
He dipped his head, bumping shoulders with me. “I thought I could fix things on my own.”
“And now?” I growled.
“Now I know better,” he said simply.
I fell silent a moment, glancing at him thoughtfully. “Did you really blow up the castle?”
Jameson's scolded expression melted into a broad grin. “Blew it to shit.”
A weight lifted inside me, my own mouth mirroring his. “Thank you.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “That place was my prison for so long. Christ, I wish I'd been there to see it.”
Jameson looked to Darrell, and I guessed he wanted to say more but didn't feel comfortable doing so in front of him. Instead, he scratched the corner of his mouth; a signal we'd used back in our pirate days to arrange a private conversation. For half a second, I was yanked back to the past, standing beside him at the helm with a ring of my crewmen around me, explaining for the hundredth time why we couldn't simply go after Melwick's Gold. The treasure my father had hidden after he'd murdered the pirate for killing my mother. A location only I had known. But the promise of that treasure had kept the men in line, taking to my captaincy without complaint as they'd known the prize I could offer them.
I wondered vaguely if the loot was ever found, or if it was still hidden away from the modern world. Unlikely. But perhaps worth a look one day. If I ever lived to a time when gold had meaning for me again.
Darrell took us to a large bedroom with gilded mirrors on the walls. A table and chair were lined up before one of them with a pair of clippers, a razor and a sharp pair of scissors on it.
Darrell turned to us, snatching up the scissors. “Who's first?”
Jameson gripped his plait with a dramatic gasp.
“Don't be such a fool.” I dropped into the seat. “Is your hair worth your life?”
Darrell immediately tugged my hair over my shoulders, readying the scissors.
“It's worth something,” Jameson complained.
“You're too recognisable,” Darrell confirmed my own thoughts. “My job is to make you look as different as possible.”
“Go for it.” I folded my arms, not caring one bit as he sheared my hair away into ribbons on the floor.
“I've never seen you with short hair,” Jameson mused, perching on the Queen-sized bed behind me. I caught his eye in the mirror, shrugging. “What difference does it make?”
“None...it just seems like everything is changing.”
“And it will change again, brother. But for the better this time.” I ground my teeth, determined for my words to be true.
“I guess,” Jameson sighed.
“I think I'll give the Werewolf a bob,” Darrell muttered in my ear.
“Ha. Ha,” Jameson said dryly. “If you do, we'll all find out what it looks like when a Vampire tries to remove scissors from his arsehole.”
I spat a laugh as Darrell grumbled his irritation, picking up the clippers as he cut away the remaining length of my hair.
“You know how to use those, right?” Jameson asked as the low buzz of the motor pricked the air.
Darrell didn't answer, pushing the clippers into the front of my hair. He left it longer at the front than the back, clipping the sides in closely. When he was finished, he ran some wax into it, pushing it back, styling it in a way I'd have no idea how to replicate.
I already looked like a different man and that was before he picked up the cutthroat razor and shaving foam. He angled the chair back so I gazed up at him as he rubbed the foam onto my cheeks.
The slice of the blade was cold and repetitive. I grew bored as Darrell took his time, fairly skilled with the blade.
“My father was a barber,” Darrell said. “He let me shave him once. The first time I'd ever done it. I only cut him twice.”
“Reassuring,” Jameson drawled.
“At least Vampires can heal themselves,” Darrell glanced in the direction of Jameson. “Werewolves have more trouble, I hear?”
Jameson grumbled something and Darrell ignored him, grinning to himself.
When he was finished shaving me, I stood, gazing at my new self in the mirror.
Jameson stood up, his bravado vanishing as he took in my appearance. “Shit, there's no way even Selena's gonna recognise you let alone a Helsing.”
Doubt ran through me as I pushed my fingers into my hair, my head feeling light. Different. Would Selena like this new look? “Do you think so?”
Jameson elbowed me, grinning his head off. “You're so whipped, you know that?”
I shoved him down into the chair, wrapping the towel tightly around his neck and smacking him on the shoulder.
“Enjoy,” I said to Darrell, moving to sit on the bed.
As Darrell worked, I expected Jameson to complain the whole way through, perhaps even grip his plait in his fist until Darrell prised his fingers away. But for some reason, he remained quiet, his eyes hollow, speaking of how little sleep he'd had the past few days. Guilt spiked through me at seeing him that way. All of his casual words were just a guise. He was still haunted by what the Helsings had done to him and his pack. And I vowed to help him through it, even if he never admitted what he was feeling.
The shaved sides of his hair had grown out since I'd first been reunited with him, and by the time Darrell was done, it was that length all over. He looked...smart. Impossible, considering who he was. Especially when Darrell had finished shaving him, I barely recognised him as my friend.
Darrell took the towel from around his neck and headed to the door. “Coming?” he inquired when neither of us moved.
“We'll be there in a minute,” I answered and Darrell nodded, heading out the door.
We waited a few moments until I was certain he was gone then turned to Jameson who was running a hand back and forth over his short hair.
“I'm concerned about you, brother.” I folded my arms as I gazed at him.
He tongued his cheek, looking away. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Since when do we lie to each other?” I stared him down until he looked back at me. His shoulders slumped and I felt the weight of the world dragging him down.
“Thought I could fix everything by going to Raskdød, killing Abraham and Katherine. But even if I had...I dunno...” He scratched behind his ear.
I thought about Mercy, about what Jameson had done, bringing her to that island, planning to take on their whole family at once. Typical of him to try and kill two birds with one stone. And it hadn't been such a bad plan, only I doubted it was something he would have lived through. And that was the most worrying thing of all. Jameson would never choose to die. Ever. He was bloody life itself.
“So what happened with Mercy?” I asked. I trusted his judgment implicitly, but I was still curious how he'd come to the decision of really trusting her.
“Look, the girl's got issues. I'm not saying she isn't gonna double cross us, 'cause she probably is. But for now, I reckon she'll help us in order to stay alive. Make up for some of the shit she feels responsible for, then probably try to bail when things get too hard.”
“So you don't trust her?” My brows lifted.
“Not really. Figure we can use her though. We send her back to her parents with a capsule in her head, she won't say shit. But she will give us some valuable information. If we're going to hang out with a bunch of Hunters, we're best to keep away from Abraham and Katherine, especially as we're going to need time to pull off whatever shit Brendan's got in mind.”
I nodded in agreement. “You think they'll recognise us?”
“With this hair and a mask on? Na. It's too goddamn ballsy to walk into a game, they'd never think we'd do it. Wouldn't even suspect it.”
“How do we know they're even going to attend this ball?”
Jameson barked a laugh. “You think the Helsings aren't going to attend a ball held in their honour, with games entirely devoted to making them look awesome?”
I released a breath of laughter. He was right. If there was one thing we could bargain on the Helsings being, it was egotistical narcissists.
“And the promise we made Mercy?” I asked as Jameson headed toward the door.
He glanced over his shoulder, his brows lowering and clouds drawing across his bronze eyes. “We break it when the time's right.”
I gritted my teeth, nodding. “You and me?”
“We make them pay for what they did to my family, to Selena, Cass.”
He said Cass's name with a sort of reverence. Despite having openly talked about far deeper subjects, I held my tongue on asking him about her. If I so much as suggested he might actually have feelings for a girl, he'd actively work to convince himself that he didn't. Always had been a womaniser. But if there was anyone who could tame him, it was bound to be a fiery, no-nonsense girl like Cass. The fact that she didn't have any time for him was probably the one thing keeping him hooked.
I followed him out of the room, brushing shoulders with him and murmuring, “You know we might not get out of this alive, don't you?”
Jameson smirked. “Aye, Captain. I do.”