Zack grabbed the bottle of fey wine and his glass. They parted ways in the long hall. The mansion’s stillness was no longer the cool touch of a grave waiting to be filled. The silence was there, and the solitude, but that brought a sort of piece.
But when he reached his suite, the loneliness faded away. The game controllers were out of place from where he and Takashi had left them the other night in the living room. Clothes were strewn about in the bedroom, and a stack of books was on the corner of his desk. Takashi was asleep in the bed, his body utterly relaxed against the bed.
Zack took the bottle and his glass over to the desk. After flipping on the soft-glowing desk lamp, he quietly dug through the drawers until he rediscovered the slick, onyx leather journal he’d discovered on his first night. He took out a pen and began to write about his new life. One that was full of mystery and intrigue and wasn’t so awful at all …
CHAPTER 43
Dawn was kissing Chicago’s streets. Roger continued to stand in the deeper shadows of the hallway in the old building. Physical fatigue had never been a problem since he’d become a vampire, but after running through a series of exercises with Bastian, his soul-deep tiredness manifested in aches in his limbs.
They’d worked for a few hours until Bastian was exhausted and Vincent had stirred. Bastian and Vincent had their chat, which Roger had done his best to not listen to, and then Bastian had taken off for the day.
Josefina messaged to say that she needed to clear her head and get some rest. Roger bade Dmitri to take Vincent back to Nathaniel’s apartment, where they were still staying.
Needing a bit of space to think himself, Roger remained at their makeshift headquarters. Also, given the time to cool down, he wanted to check in with Thomas. As dawn continued to brush along his portion of the world, Roger realized that Thomas was likely avoiding the building as long as possible.
Roger would survive a bit of direct sunlight, but the way to the Last Deal was long, and he didn’t have a car.I wonder if the shadows could take me that far. He stroked the wall beside him. Traveling through an inch of shadow had been suffocating.Anton was able to travel across long distances, but he also had the experience.Given enough time, I’ll be able to do that, too.
The side door opened. Thomas said, “Hold on.”
“Dad, I’m tired,” Amber replied with a huff.
“The lights are still?—”
“So, someone’s still here.” Amber tromped across the classroom toward the hallway, where Roger was waiting.
Roger rounded the corner into the classroom.
Immediately, Amber stopped in her tracks and shoved her hand into her coat pocket. Thomas’s hand went toward his dagger on his hip, but he stopped himself from grabbing the hilt. Both hunters had deep bags under their eyes. Thomas grimaced, silently proving to Roger that the older hunter had been hoping he wouldn’t still be there.
“Not cool, lurking in the dark,” Amber grumbled. “What you said to my dad was super shitty.”
Thomas said, “Amber?—”
“It was!” Amber stormed up to Roger, craning her head back in order to glare up at him. “And everyone heard you.”
“Your father said unkind things to me as well,” Roger replied. “Did you defend me to him while you were out?”
Amber looked away swiftly. Zack had done the same thing when Roger initially called him out on so many little things.
Roger stepped back from her. He moved slowly, in part because the hunters were already jumpy and also because doing so gave him time to form his next thoughts. Thomas and Amber seemed to be waiting on what he had to say.Or perhaps they’re too embarrassed.
“What I said was meant to cause you pain, I’ll admit that,” Roger said. “I know that grief was strangling you, but what you said?—”
“Was extremely terrible of me,” Thomas said with a heavy sigh. He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck beforefinally meeting Roger’s gaze. “You’d think after working together a few weeks, I would’ve gotten to know you a little better. I’ve got a lifetime of bullcrap to unlearn, but some of my instincts aren’t wrong. I’m worried about Zack becoming a vampire.”
“Because you’ve always assumed the worst of his fascination with my kind?” Roger asked coldly.
“Because he has always been a brilliant boy with a big heart, and maybe it won’t happen today or tomorrow, but he has the potential to become one of the worst vampires,” Thomas said with a strangled plea in his voice. “There has to be a reason Seamus is calling him son, and I doubt it has anything to do with either of us. Not to dredge this up or agree with it, but you called yourself his toy. As petty as he can be, you don’t live a thousand years surviving on pettiness, and getting revenge on a plaything is pretty petty.”
“What could he possibly want with Zack?” Roger said.
“Uh, besides the insider knowledge on how to take out the rest of the Wrights?” Amber replied.
“Sweetheart, I know you’re young enough to think we’re invincible, but there’s a reason we hunters stay out of Chicago. If the vampires wanted to eradicate us, they could. Probably the idea of the numbers that would be lost is what’s kept an all-out war from starting.” Thomas scratched behind his ear. The bags under his eyes were deeper than they’d been, with an echo of sadness in his eyes making him appear more exhausted. “Though I can’t say one’s not on the way with Zack becoming a vampire. Maybe Seamus does want to lure us out, but somehow, I think there’s a side of this we don’t know. Thing is, his plans could be hundreds of years in the making. Every night Zack spends with him is the chance for Seamus to shape him. And Zack’s stubborn, but no one’s unimpressionable forever. I can’t help worrying that he’s part of whatever Seamus has been cooking up.”
Thomas’s words sank into Roger, the drop of them causing a ripple of understanding to push thoughts into theories. Roger had seen the possibility of turning Zack into a better weapon. He’d fallen in love, but if he’d focused on honing Zack’s skills and ridding him of his compassion, would it have been that hard? Zack had been on the edge of believing vampires were an irredeemable enemy. Surely Seamus couldn’t morph his beliefs on humans so quickly.
What would Seamus even want a living weapon for? For the last three hundred years, he had cut down anyone who had gained too much power. Yet he was elevating Zack. Either he was posing in order to draw the hunters out, which Roger had to agree was short-sighted, or he had a bigger scheme, one that Roger had never been privy to.
