The Thief

At that moment, a movement out of the corner of V’s eyes drew his attention to the colonnade in front of his mother’s bedroom suite—and when he saw what it was, he was both utterly astonished…and completely unsurprised.

It was a black cat. But not just any black cat.

It was Beth, the Queen’s black cat. The one she had brought with her to the mansion all those years ago.

As V’s stare met its glowing green one, a sacred aura surrounded the feline, and he realized She had been with them all along. From the very beginning, She had been with them…right in their midst without them even knowing it.

With a feeling of inevitability and peace, the last of V’s puzzle pieces fell into place, the hole that had been vacant filled with an answer to a question he hadn’t been aware of asking for all these years.

Yes, Lassiter said, in spite of her faults, she always loved you and your sister, and now she can show you. And she always loved her creation, too—and now she can show that as well. Therefore, close your eyes and see what is to come as only you can. You must guide the end, do you understand? You shall guide the end—

* * *

—

“—Vishous? V, wake up, sweetheart—”

V bolted upright in the dark, sweat pouring off his face, chest screaming in suffocation, heart pounding.

Only Jane’s voice and scent were able to reach him through his panic, and even then, he wasn’t sure what in the hell was going on.

Throwing out a hand, he grabbed on to her and held her close—and as he felt her arms tighten on him, he started to shake. But it was only a dream, he told himself. What he’d just seen was only a dream—a weird, fucked-up contortion of him having had a late day, and Lassiter-binge-watching TV in the billiards room, and finally the carbonara served at Last Meal.

“I’m okay,” he said into Jane’s soft, fragrant neck. “I’m all right…”

“You’re just fine. Shhh…”

She stroked his hair and his shoulders, soothing him until he released the tension in his body. When he finally went limp, he collapsed back onto the pillows and urged her on top of him.

“What were you dreaming about?” she asked.

The images that came to him were too disturbing, so he shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t…I can’t think about it.”

“Okay. That’s all right.”

“What time is it?”

There was the sound of covers rustling as she twisted around to see the clock by her side of the bed. “Almost six p.m. We’ll both be late if we don’t get up soon.”

“Can we just lie here for a little bit?”

“Absolutely.”

V tried to close his eyes, but that was not a good idea as it just brought the strangeness back. Then again, open and in the pitch-black didn’t work, either.

Willing the lights in their bedroom on, he was instantly calmed further. Everything was just so prosaic and as-it-should-be that context came easily—and in the right direction. All was well and normal.

Just a dream.

He looked at Jane. “I love your face.”

“I love yours, too.” She smiled. “And you’re most handsome when you just wake up.”

V leaned and kissed her, and the next thing he knew he was mounting her and penetrating her sex with his own. Which was even better than the lights coming on, he decided as he began to pump, the pleasure wiping away the dregs of whatever that weirdness had been.

As he started to orgasm, and his female came along with him, he turned his head—

Through the open doorway into the bathroom, he saw that there were two Mountain Dew bottles sitting by the sinks, both filled to the very top, their labels facing out toward him.

“Damn it,” he muttered as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Sure, that shit about his mom was fine. But Lassiter, it appeared, was the race’s new boss.

Great. Nothing like putting a five-year-old behind the wheel of a car and giving the little shit the car keys.

Big ol’ angel wingspans aside, the ride, which had already not been all that smooth, was about to get bumpier than a motherfucker.

FIFTY-SEVEN

Sola woke up in total confusion. She couldn’t remember where she was, and the remnants of a dream about vampires lingered—

Oh, wait.

That wasn’t a nightmare. And yup, she was still in their underground facility, out in the corridor, sitting on the hard floor next to the door to her grandmother’s room. Her butt was flat as a pancake, somehow managing to be both numb and painful as a result of cushioning her weight for—what time was it? How long had she been asleep—

All at once, her thoughts slowed to a halt and she looked across the way. Assail was seated in a mirrored pose, his legs stretched out, his head down chin on chest, as if he were asleep, too.

She hadn’t heard him come out to sit with her.

Looking around, she found that they were alone together, no medical staff walking about, none of the other people she’d met during her time here in sight, either.

Down at the far end of the corridor, she could just barely see the exit that she’d come and gone out of how many times now?

She thought back to when Assail had brought her here as a patient. She had been in such rough shape—head injury, shot in the leg, traumatized to all hell and gone. Doc Jane in particular had been so kind to her. Hell, the woman had been kind to her all along—

From above, there was a rhythmic sound, like a machine turning over, and then she felt a warm fall of air hit the top of her head. Glancing up, she measured the vent that was some ten feet overhead. When she lowered her chin, she jumped.

Assail had woken up and was looking at her with those sad eyes of his. When he didn’t speak, she cleared her throat.

“I’ve wanted to ask you something,” she said in a quiet voice. “Why don’t you just scrub my memories now? I mean, if you can do it, why not simply make all this go away? That way you won’t feel as bad.”

Why was she worried about where he was at? she wondered.

“I will always feel badly and it would hurt you.” He motioned to his head. “If someone has had their memories stripped, but they’re around the very thing that has been taken from them, it is very painful.”

“Oh.”

At that moment, there was a ringing sound and he took out a cheap-looking cell phone. “Pardon me.” After she shrugged, he accepted the call. “Hello? Yes. How kind of you. Yes. In person? Where? When?” There was a pause. “How accommodating of you. Fine. I will be there, yes.”

He hung up and stared at the phone. “I am going to be putting the Brotherhood in touch with a distributor for arms. I must go and meet with her in person. You mentioned you would like to collect your things. Perhaps we can depart soon and get you ready to go? I do not believe the Brotherhood will allow you to bring your car onto the premises. However, we can drive it out from my house, and pack it somewhere safe, such that you will not have to return to my property ever again.”

Assail looked over at her. “You will be free to go as soon as your grandmother is released. Just as you wish. And I promise not to interfere with any of your…I will not get in your way.”

“Will you be coming back here with me?”

His chest—which was even larger now, it seemed—expanded as he inhaled. “I should be the one to rid you of your memories. I will do the most thorough job because I have been there for so many of your experiences.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“So would you like to leave with me the now?”

“I should speak to my grandmother first.” Assuming the old woman would grant her an audience without trying to hit her with a bedpan. “But yes. Thank you.”

“I shall arrange for transport. Excuse me.”

As he got to his feet, there were several cracks as if his spine were realigning itself, and then he walked slowly and stiffly toward the office she had gone through with Doc Jane.

Sola watched him go. And was surprised to find that, like him, she was very sad.

Trying not to dwell on that, she dragged herself off the floor and stretched until things resettled into a more functional order. And then she knocked politely on the closed door she had been sitting vigil next to.