His choices hadn’t felt this infinite since he ran away from his mortal home. What he had done then was escape as far as he could. That path had led him all the way to a dingy tavern in the Caribbean and into Seamus’s fangs.
He had to do better. Vincent, Kit, Zack, Takashi—they all deserved whatever strength he could muster. He had led them into this disaster. He would get them out of it.
There wasn’t time to pack the entire suite. Roger focused on the important parts. He filled a suitcase with clothing forKit, grabbing what seemed sentimental and in easy reach. Since Carver was gone, Roger didn’t step into his room.
The suite was lush enough to have its own office. Zack had spent countless hours at the desk. Part of his hunter training had been research, and he devoted himself to thorough notetaking. Roger went for the notebooks he’d written about the Great Lakes Coven and other supernaturals. The information would be vital to developing a plan.
But they were gone. So was Takashi’s laptop and Zack’s. Their tablets, too.
Briskly, he crossed the living room to the master bedroom. Memories bubbled, but this time, he stamped them down and remained in the present. His grief would have to wait.
Drawers hung out from the dresser, and the wardrobe door was wide open. The room had been searched, ripped apart, and abandoned. The safe where Roger had kept a wad of cash, along with the bullets and Cal’s handgun, was empty. Takashi had broken the shotgun during the fight, but next to the safe had been a short sword and a crossbow. Both of those weapons were missing as well. Under the bed should have been three duffle bags, but only the one with Callum’s initials remained. One had been Zack’s; the other had been Callum’s weapon bag.
They were hoping to leave me defenseless.
I’ve started with less.
A phone began to ring. Roger sought the source of the sound and discovered it on the floor under the dresser. The screen read, “Dad.”
Zack had mentioned that he’d spoken to his father and sister. After five months, the man was finally giving a damn about his son again.
Roger began to fill Callum’s duffle with necessities. His own journal had been hiding in the bag, and he added a few changes of his own clothes, five sets of Zack’s clothes since he andVincent were a similar size, and even a change of clothes for Takashi. Much of their jewelry was missing, as was Roger’s.
Absentmindedly, he put his hand to his ear to check his earring. It was a white-gold stud with four sapphires dangling from it. Takashi had given it to him to represent his lovers and his donors. At least he still had it. And he had Zack’s dagger pendant.
The last thing he grabbed was Zack’s smart phone, which had begun to ring again. Roger threw it into the bottom of the bag.
Kit was stable enough that Roger picked them up. He handed off the bags to Vincent, who managed the two pieces of luggage without issue. Then the three of them left the suite.
Their trip took them through the lobby. No one was in it, which was odd for that hour in a vampire hotel on one of the busiest social nights of the year. Others should have been coming and going. Even the concierge desk was empty. Did the staff know what had happened upstairs? Had Seamus told them to clear out before he struck?
Vincent nabbed a taxi from the stand outside before the driver could realize their group was covered in blood. The driver swore something about never picking up at the freaky hotel again but didn’t throw them out of the vehicle.
The problem was where to go. Candide was still hosting the ball at her extravagant donor house, and many of the vampires Roger knew were there. His trusted inner circle had been shattered, except for Nell and Josefina. But they were the leaders of a different domain in Tennessee. Roger couldn’t leave the city without freeing Zack and Takashi first.
Dmitri would have helped him, but Roger’s blood brother and former lover had been captured weeks ago. Until the attack in the hotel, Roger had thought he was probably dead. Anton’s words made him believe otherwise, but that didn’t mean Dmitricould help him. Anton likely had him in the basement of the mansion he shared with Seamus.
There was a vampire he might turn to. The chances were high that he’d spit in Roger’s face and call him a disappointment of a grand-sire, but Nathaniel might take pity on Kit and Vincent at the least. Getting the two of them to safety was his first priority.
Roger had the taxi driver drop them off a block from the Last Deal and handed over a reasonable wad of cash from his wallet. Takashi had teased him that no one used physical currency anymore, but Roger hadn’t been able to let go of the habit, especially since the Wrights had tracked Zack down using his credit card purchases at one point. Cash simply made sense, and he was grateful to have enough on hand to last a short while.
Stepping out into the cold night, Roger lifted Kit into his arms again. Kit remained unconscious, but they curled instinctively toward Roger.I’ll take any good sign I can get.Instead of walking through the front, Roger led the way around to the bar’s back door.
Roger had turned Ezra into a vampire, and about thirty years later, Ezra had turned Nathaniel. In the mid-1770s, Roger and Nathaniel had had a night of drinking where they bonded over drinking songs of the English peasantry. He instructed Vincent to knock the rhythm of one on the door.
It swung open. Nathaniel was a stockier man; his fingertips were blunt from years as a blacksmith in his mortal life. A scar ran through his clouded right eye. Hunters had managed to inflict that on him. Almost eighty years had passed, and his eye had never fully healed. But his gruff attitude was older than his scars. Ezra had fallen in love with his brusqueness.
The love hadn’t lasted, but Nathaniel had.
Nathaniel glanced from Roger to Kit in his arms, then to Vincent, before finally settling back on Roger. His glare was unreadable. “You did what they’re talking about?”
“Depends on what they’re saying,” Roger replied carefully.
“You out-magicked him in a crowded ballroom, then snatched his head pet,” Nathaniel said.
“I threw away my collar, master,” Vincent said quickly and quietly. Only at this point did Roger realize that the boy was still wearing Zack’s bow tie loosely tied around his throat. The fabric had Roger’s crest, a kraken, on it.
“Don’t bother with that master shit around here.” Nathaniel eyed Roger as he said it.
