The melody of conversation mingled with the tempo of the thuds and clinks of exercise. Roughly a dozen different voices, the largest number of people in their makeshift headquarters, had gathered. His allies had brought in others to aid in their fight. They needed fellow fighters if their revolution was to succeed, so their building had turned into a training ground as well as a war room.
Roger put his hand to Zack’s necklace and let the touch of metal reconnect him to his body. Each gem was a polished, edged bump. Sliding into his demeanor that Zack had once called Aloof Vampire, he strode into the training room.
Amber was sparing with Janiyah on a set of mats. One of the hunters Thomas had called in, Lacey, was observing them. Lacey was a woman in her early thirties who had light brown skin and a cheerful and detail-oriented disposition. She had one of the infamous Wright blades tucked into its sheath on her hip and tended to dress in black. Three of the revolution’s vampire recruits were sitting on the floor between the practice mats and the mirrors. All were closely watching the fight.
In a corner of the room, they had set up a few tables and chairs. Sometimes, Roger brought his information there to lay out and discuss with the others. For the last few nights, Roger and Thomas had been laboring over their lists of potential targets.
Tonight, Dmitri sat in one of the chairs, and he bore a pensive expression as he watched the three men before him. Two were men that Roger didn’t recognize. One was a shorter man with light brown hair and a wand sticking out of his back jeans pocket. The other was a taller man who had full tattoo sleeves on both arms. A gray tabby cat was twisting around his ankles.
The third was Thomas. His black backpack was resting on one table, the zipper open, and he was writing quickly in his leather-bound journal as the three men continued speaking. The pinch of his brow as he focused was nearly identical to Zack’s.
Zack will never grow old. Weeks ago, when the realization had struck Roger that Zack was truly mortal and would age, he had hated the idea of a world where Zack was no longer with him because he had lived the course of his mortal life. Roger had offered to turn Zack into a vampire, but Zack had soundly refused him. Spending time with Thomas had led him to regard Zack’s mortal future wistfully. It had been a thread of hope he’d clung to.
But Zack had died in the hotel, and now in his undead, immortal life, he would never grow into an old man. He’d be twenty forever. No gray hair, no laugh lines, no possibility for mortal children. Until meeting Thomas, these things had seemed like the portents of death.
Now, that far-off day would never be. A sliver of grief was a splinter in Roger’s heart, and the mere act of standing and beholding Thomas was like pressing his finger squarely on the wound.
Dmitri spotted Roger first. Roger’s attempt to remain distant must have cracked—or perhaps Dmitri knew him too well—because Dmitri slightly frowned at him, and an unspoken question filled his eyes.
Roger pulled himself from the brink of his grief and smoothed his expression once more. He crossed the room to Thomas and his two companions. Despite Dmitri’s closeness, the three didn’t seem to be in conversation with him.
“Ah, there you are,” Thomas said as Roger neared. He gestured to the two men beside him. “Roger, let me introduce you to Bastian Stone and Noah Clarke-Coldwell. Bastian’s an exorcist and technically in the Greater Circle of the Unyielding.Noah is a warlock from Artie Pendragon’s Burrow. Do you know Artie?”
Basic conversation wasn’t what Roger had prepared for. He mentally fumbled, gathered himself, and pushed away his shock. “I think I’ve come across something about the Burrow in my recent research. Artie is Arthur Warren?”
“Yeah,” Noah replied.
“It’s been some time, but I’ve met him,” Roger said. “Thomas, could I have a word?”
“Sure.” Thomas set down his pen.
Josefina was still out in the alleyway, so Roger led Thomas farther into the building. The studio had once boasted three different dance classrooms. The last one was significantly smaller than the other two and was beside the short hallway that led to a storage room, an office, and two bathrooms. What had been the office had two cots set up in it, and recently, Amber and Thomas had stayed there. Thomas was still looking for an apartment.
He’d need to be able to sleep in that room. Roger couldn’t bear the idea of making Thomas’s life harder than he had already. So, he led him into the third classroom. The only light was what came from the hallway.
As soon as they were alone, Roger’s mind blanked of words entirely. What series of sounds would be the correct ones to tell Thomas that his son, and one of the men holding a piece of Roger’s heart, was now one of the creatures Thomas spent his life killing? Would he even accept his boy? Would telling Thomas destroy the fragile alliance Roger was attempting to build with willing hunters?
“Candide knew something about what’s happening to Zack, didn’t she? That’s why you’ve got your Serious Vamp face on,” Thomas said quietly. His voice was rough, a raw emotion filling the gaps between his words. A hint of his terror for Zack’s well-being hung in the air like the faint reminder of sun on pavement just after dark.
For once, Roger was glad that hunters had invented a tattoo that blocked vampiric abilities. He wasn’t sure he could have taken the full weight of Thomas’s fear.
“She did,” Roger murmured. He didn’t want his words to carry any farther than Thomas’s ears. “Zack’s a vampire. Seamus turned him.”
Thomas began to collapse, and only Roger’s supernatural speed allowed him to grab him before he fell. Clutching on painfully, Thomas choked out, “When?”
“He rose by Christmas. He likely died in the initial attack,” Roger said quickly.
“We never had a chance to save him,” Thomas whispered hoarsely.
Roger tightened his grip on Thomas’s arms and forced him to stand a little straighter so that he had an easier time glaring into the man’s eyes. “He still exists, and he still needs us to free him from that tyrant.”
Thomas regained his balance and shoved Roger away. “Do you have any idea what his mother will do when she finds out? What Cal will do?”
“We can deal with that after we’ve freed him and Takashi,” Roger said.
“So you can live your vampire happily ever after?” Thomas demanded, his voice growing in volume. He thrust a hand out toward the second classroom where the others were. “We’re trainingvampiresto be more deadly. How long until you turn that on the rest of us?”
The grief that had walled away Roger’s rage cracked and became a torrent in the downpour, washing him clean of pain. Anger took its place, but he would not let it break him. He clenched his fist, held his ground, and glared at Thomas. “Youare in shock. I do not blame you for that. But do not use this as an excuse to backslide to your bullshit beliefs.”
