“So the rumors are true,” Josefina said. “You’ve been exiled.”
“How do you know already?” Roger asked. “Taliville is hundreds of miles from Chicago.”
“It’s called the internet.” Josefina tched and shook her head. “Reed has been glued to social media since the video of your waltz with Zack went viral on the Fang app. You countered Seamus’s ability right in front of him, didn’t you?”
“I was showing off a bit, yes,” Roger replied.
“You should’ve staked the bastard weeks ago.”
“You, more than anyone, should know how delicate a game politics can be.”
Josefina slid her hands into her coat pockets and stilled as only a vampire could. With no reason to breathe or to fidget, she could stand motionless for an age if she wanted. She’d been a member of the Great Lakes Coven when she was first made. A descendant of Anton’s had turned her, and she had hated her lot in life. In 1921, Roger had introduced her to Nell, a master vampire with a coven based in Tennessee, in an effort to saveher from a worse fate. Roger had watched the way Seamus and Anton would begin to circle around a victim before draining a vampire of their life force. They were always careful, always certain to take a loner, and Josefina had been one until Nell.
Roger’s matchmaking had worked. Seamus hadn’t wanted to let her leave the GLC, but Roger had convinced him that Josefina would become a spy in Nell’s court. His lie had gotten her to safety, and he’d swallowed another round of Seamus’s anger. Seamus had chalked up his “miscalculation” to Roger’s lack of intelligence rather than a purposeful deception.
At least I’ve managed one good deed in my life. Roger matched her neutral expression, glad to suppress his worries instead of giving in to them.
“People were supposed to welcome you back,” Josefina said.
“About that. Dmitri had his own plan,” Roger replied.
Josefina scowled. Roger told her what had happened since his return to Chicago as precisely as he could. As he spoke about the night that Dmitri was dragged out onto the stage, he found a hollow part inside himself and pulled it forth. He didn’t have time for his emotions. The information mattered. He barreled forward into recounting the previous night’s ball and attack.
When he had woken from his cursed coma, she had been the first vampire he encountered. And out of everyone he knew, she was one of the few that he had broken down and admitted his deepest need. He had to rid himself of Seamus so that he could finally have a life. A real one. She’d agreed to help.
He’d failed her, too.
“In the 1680s, Seamus and Anton made a wager between themselves,” Roger said. “They’d been going through a patch of killing each other’s sirelings, so they made a bet over whose would live longest.”
“So they made you and Dmitri the same night,” Josefina said.
“My life’s a fucking game to them,” Roger said hoarsely. “Now, they’ve taken Zack and Takashi. I have to get them back.”
The wind gusted past them, and Josefina stared off into the distance. Her car’s headlights finally snapped off and plunged them into darkness. Both of them could see well enough not to need the light source.
Josefina nodded tightly. “That explains a lot. Do you know where they took Zack and Takashi?”
“Likely his mansion northwest of the city,” Roger replied. “I’m planning a strike to free them. After I get them back, I am ruining everything Seamus holds dear.”
“I hope you’re not expecting me to be part of a raid. If anyone spots me, that will mean a war between the GLC and my love’s coven. That’s the opposite of our goals.”
“I have a part for you to play.” Roger heard the rumble of a vehicle turning onto the gravel road. “But I’ll have to tell you later. Do me a favor. Hide in the shadows and make sure my second appointment doesn’t kill me.”
Josefina opened her mouth to ask the question, but she must have heard the growing sounds of the truck’s engine. She darted into the house with a burst of vampiric speed.
Roger braced himself, keeping his hands loose at his sides.
Eventually, the truck swerved around Josefina’s car and came to a stop in the yard. Its headlights illuminated Roger. He squinted into the bright light but remained still.Hopefully, they aren’t planning to run over me.
The engine remained on, though the headlights dipped from high intensity to a regular glow. Both doors opened in unison. The lighting made it impossible to take in the details of the newcomers right away. They were shadows, one broader, while the one on Roger’s right was shorter and slimmer. For a second, an irrational hope flared that the one on the right must be Zack.But the figure was taller than Zack, and, though narrow in the shoulders, not quite narrow enough.
The bigger shadow stepped into the light.
Callum Wright had a gun in his hand, the weapon up and pointed at Roger. While he shared Zack’s gray eyes and delicate nose, the similarities ended there. Where Zack was the wind, Cal was the unforgiving rocks, relentless and punishing to any wave that dared brush against him. He was thick with muscle and taut with anger. He sneered with a malice that matched the worst of Roger’s nightmares.
“Put the weapon away,” the figure on the right said.
That voice rent Roger’s heart into pieces.Zack never said that he sounds just like his father.
