“Maybe tomorrow I’ll pay him a visit.”
He stroked my arms. “Nothing would please me more. But if I come back and they’re missing…”
I glanced up at a leafless tree. “You won’t have to worry about that.”
“So you keep saying.” Christian cocked his head and looked around. “Jaysus, where the feck is that dog?” He stalked toward the back, whistling and calling after Harley, whose mission was to mark his territory all over the property.
The air was still, and the moonlight illuminated every bare branch on the tree. I walked over, hands in my pockets, and glanced up at where I’d seen Houdini’s owl land once or twice. All this time, I’d thought he was just showing up randomly—never realizing that he was living next door, checking in on me whenever he liked. It explained my seeing him once roaming the private roads near our home.
I reached up and tugged the red ribbon off the branch where I’d hung his key. The puzzle box was still in my room, but Houdini wanted the key that allegedly revealed secrets about him no one knew. It was my connection to him, one he never thought I’d give back. A key that tethered me to him unnecessarily. I’d had a feeling he wouldn’t leave town without one last visit—a final opportunity to check in and watch me from afar. By morning, Houdini would be long gone, wreaking chaos in the world. Perhaps he would change.
Probably not.
I ran my finger down the silky ribbon, feeling the deep wrinkle where he had untied the knot and removed the key. Christian either didn’t notice it in the branch or didn’t think anything about it. I had taken the key out of the puzzle box and left it hanging as a gesture of goodwill, just in case Houdini wanted to pop in one last time. Now all I had was a lonely ribbon to remind me of a maker that never was—a Vampire who could have been so much more to me but never wanted that responsibility.
Christian and Houdini had each given me a gift with the same expectation to kill someone who had hurt me, and the Vampire within me wanted nothing more than to live up to that.
CHAPTER29
Christian left at dawn to finish the job with Ronald and fly him to his new home, far off the grid. I found a checkerboard and took it to my father’s room that morning with his breakfast. Instead of eating with the team, who were lively as usual after we finished a job, I played checkers with my dad before taking his dog downstairs. After Hunter put on his puffy blue coat and striped mittens, he skipped outside with me and rolled down a hill, trying to make himself into a human snowball. Switch joined us and gave Hunter his knit hat while we talked.
Switch had ideas about all the places he wanted to travel with the specific goal of touring famous libraries. He had a keen interest in creating a Breed library since most books about us were archived or in personal collections. He said because not all of them contained incriminating information needed for hunting outlaws, they could be kept in an accessible building for educational purposes. Every Mage and Vampire had to teach history to their progeny the same way every child born of Breed had to learn. And sometimes their education was only as good as the person teaching them. Books could fill that gap.
Switch was a remarkable man. I knew once he rebuilt his reputation by working for Keystone and making Hunter into an educated man, he would go off and do something amazing. Most of all, I hoped he would one day find his own family.
Because I had finally found mine.
Though we had a good chat, I felt melancholy the rest of the day. For reasons I couldn’t explain, capturing Fletcher upended repressed feelings I wasn’t ready to face—feelings I’d buried so I could focus on my new life. He was a monster, and in some ways, so was my maker. The only reason Houdini had given us Lenore was to test me. Otherwise he would have finished her himself. Since the moment I became Breed, I’d struggled with figuring out where I stood on the spectrum of good and evil. And now Houdini’s gift was leaving me uncertain of which side of that line I truly belonged. I had spent most of the day fantasizing about walking over there and torturing Fletcher. Yet I couldn’t be alone with him again. Not ever. And not out of fear, but out of self-preservation. Knowing Christian had already done it gave me a measure of comfort, and yet I was unexpectedly conflicted all day. The more I thought about it, the sicker I got. Though this had to come to an end, I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to kill my own Creator. Not just because I could one day be executed for it, but would that act turn me into him? I didn’t know if I could kill the man who’d given me life, despite the suffering he put me through. Christian had spent decades coming to terms with his feelings about Lenore, and I’d had less than twelve hours.
Christian returned home after dark. He had some things to take care of and gave me time to bring the truck next door. I drove to my new property dressed in all black because it seemed befitting of a funeral. After loading the bodies in the back and covering them, he drove us to our destination.
“Are we doing this at your place?” I asked when he turned up the dirt road that led to his home in the woods.
“Not exactly.”
Before we reached the small house, he veered right, and the journey got bumpier. It wasn’t a dirt road so much as a cleared path.
“Don’t mess up my truck,” I warned him when we hit a hard bump.
“Get a flashlight out if you have one.”
I reached in the glove compartment and tucked one inside my trench coat. The headlights lit up the trees ahead, but the woods were dark and deep. We drove for what felt like miles, and the path cleared out as the trees spaced apart. I wondered if I would ever sleep well again after this. Would I no longer have nightmares? Would they be worse? Was I now the monster that lurked in the dark woods?
When we reached a hill, Christian finally parked the truck and turned off the lights. I got out, realizing there was no going back now.
After pulling away the truck cover, he hauled the bodies out of the back, each wrapped up in plastic and tied with rope. Christian dragged them toward the steep hill, and the patchy snow flattened beneath the weight of the bodies. I shined the light in a tree when an owl hooted. But it was brown, not white. It flapped away as if it knew evil was passing through on a snowy night.
Starlight and a rising moon illuminated the fallen snow, making it easy to see. When he let go of the bodies near a steep incline, Christian approached a large boulder and rolled it to the side. I expected bats to come flying out of the opening. Instead, the darkness stared back at me like a familiar friend. He dragged both bodies in, and I shined the light as I followed behind him. We descended down a path, the walls on either side so narrow that I could stretch out my arms and touch them. I stared down at the end of the two plastic bags, wondering what must be going through their minds. Anger? Regret? Fear? We walked for a long time before the path veered right and then leveled out. How deep underground were we?
When we entered a cavern, Christian let go of the bodies and strode behind a large rock.
The cavern walls above us were about twenty feet high, water dripping down the stalactites. Instead of rock, the ground beneath us was dirt. I angled my flashlight to the right and spotted a grave with a mound of dirt piled next to it. A large wooden cover shaped like a coffin leaned against a rock. Then I shined my light into the hole and stared at the coffin.
“I got one that’s extra deep,” he said from behind me. “Some like to be buried with their possessions or even their partners, so Breed coffins come in all sizes.”
Christian cut away the ropes with a machete and sliced open the plastic tarps. I set down the flashlight on a tall rock, angling it until it illuminated everything.
Lenore lay with her arms at her sides, looking fabulous in a burnt-orange dress with matching lipstick and nail polish. The only thing out of place was the stake embedded in her chest. Her catatonic gaze and smeared lipstick gave me the creeps. Christian dragged her toward the pit and left her at the edge before handing me the machete.
