Authors: Inger Iversen
“Brett?” my mother repeated, glaring at me.
Mia shook her head and turned to my mom to better explain the lie she’d conjured up.
“Brett has been calling Alex, and he isn’t sure what to tell him. We aren’t sure what
he’s heard from his dad and we don’t want to freak him out.”
That was one good freaking save from Mia. I had been close to blowing it, and all
over a text message. Honestly, the text was a ray of hope so I needed to get myself
together in order to not ruin whatever plans Kale had.
I cleared my throat and followed Mia’s lead. “Yeah, we just didn’t think it was a
good idea to tell him anything when we weren’t sure what was going on ourselves.”
The lie made its way from my mouth better than any lie I’d ever told, and I was sure
I shouldn’t have been as proud about that as I was.
“Oh, well. I think you should let his parents handle how he learns about what happened.
His father is sheriff over in Elmwood City, after all.” She sounded better.
Leah called to Mom from upstairs, and she hurried past us to head upstairs to get
Leah ready to leave. She asked Mia and I to clean up breakfast; she’d be gone for
the good part of the day. She was starting to get restless over the past two days,
while Mia went to work at Knope’s and my father went to Tech. I wasn’t home, either,
because at my mom’s request, I had been going with Mia to work or spending time with
her at her house over in Elmwood City.
My mother needed a break, and my aunt had been trying to coax her out of the house
for the last two days. I think that my mom only agreed because once she sent Leah
back to school, she would be left alone in the house where she believed Ella was snatched
from.
A few minutes after my mother left, Mia stopped cleaning and faced me. “Well?” She
placed a sudsy hand on her hip, then grabbed a dish towel to dry her hands off.
“Kale and Jace have a lead, and they want us there tomorrow to tell us their plan.”
I kept an ear out for the creak of the stairs. I wanted to wait for my mom to leave
for work, but I wasn’t sure that Mia could wait that long.
“Oh, man. I hope we are ready for this. That night was—”
I shushed Mia and pointed to the stairs. No one was coming, but Mia’s voice was getting
louder. Whether it was from fear or anticipation, I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.
She lowered her voice and continued, “That night was intense, and I am hoping that
we don’t have to experience that again.”
I looked at her like she was nuts. What did she think this rescue mission was about,
appealing to Laurent’s nicer side and walking away with Ella free and clear?
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked impatiently. “Are you hoping
for another battle?”
Another battle, like the night Ella was taken and Mia was wounded? Of course I wasn’t,
but I wanted her to be prepared if there was one—actually, if there was another battle,
I wanted her to stay there in my home. Battle would be no place for her. Her wound
was still healing, and the memory of her pale face that night knocked me off my feet.
Mia followed my worried glance and proceeded to roll her eyes.
She sobered up. “Look, Alex. I know this won’t be a picnic, but I am still hoping
for an easy outcome. One where everyone walks away, except for those that don’t deserve
to. And you can’t blame me for that.”
Mia dipped her head back and massaged her temples again. I didn’t mean for my concern
to have this kind of an effect on her, but I still worried. How could I keep her safe
and find Ella? I was just a human, and Kale and Jace were these immortal super soldiers.
I worried that not only was Mia a liability, but that I was one as well, and that
needed to change.
Kale
The snow had stopped falling outside, and the night air was clear and crisp, revealing
a worn, callused moon. I stood in the middle of the backyard with my eyes closed,
listening to the night sounds around me. Winter months here were painfully quiet as
people often used the homes around me for vacation—a getaway from noisy hustle of
their jobs or the cankerous bustle of their cities.
While their nights were filled with blissful sleep, mine were filled with the tortuous
sound of their resting heartbeats, the soft mews of their breaths, and the sweet scent
of warm flesh around me. The more the thirst demanded of me, the more I pulled back.
The beast within me thrashed with anticipation and impatience. It sought to consume
and control me, and tonight I worried that my strength would soon fail me. Bagged
blood held no warmth, no pulse, and did nothing to ease the beast’s hunger that gnawed
at my belly and burned my throat.
I worried that saving Ella would put her at my beast’s mercy, leaving me helpless
to do anything but witness it destroy her. How could I save her from one monster,
only to put her in the hands of another? Jace and his stupid plan to prove
our
immortality had been a mistake. I hadn’t feed in at least three days, and though
I could normally last a week,
la Luxure
had weakened my will. I hadn’t lost a significant amount of blood, but with the hunger
pains and my recent blackouts I should have allowed him to take the knife’s blade.
My minute lost of blood could end up detrimental to a tasty human’s life.
My phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket, thankful for the interruption from
where my thoughts were taking me.
“Yes,” I grated, my voice little better than a growl.
The caller chortled, his voice a deep bass that I could easily recognize. Deacon.
“My man Kale, you sound worse for wear.”
I grunted in reply and headed back into the house. The heat from the fire I’d started
for Alex and Mia slapped me in the face, rousing the beast and eliciting a tight growl
from my stomach.
“Man, you must really be in a bind if you risked calling me. Moore is still gunnin’
for your head.” He chuckled again, a low rumble that lacked humor.
I didn’t care—much. Tony Moore was a criminal, but with all the advantages the Chorý
status gave him made him ten times more dangerous and made it easier for him to stay
under the law’s radar. I had stopped enough of his operations to cost him about a
million dollars in dirty money, causing him to place a bounty on my head, one double
the amount of money I’d cost him. I guess I should’ve been flattered that someone
thought I was worth two point six million dollars.
Tony Moore wasn’t a distraction that I could allow. There were more important things
to deal with, like the favor I needed. As for Deacon, I could trust him, seeing as
he was my main informant against Tony back in the day and something like a brother
to me for a while. Moore kept a close eye on his most trusted lackeys, and Deacon
wasn’t one of those men back then, but he was still able to get me what I needed.
He was allowed more freedom in his everyday dealings since, at the time, he was just
your average everyday drug dealer—or so Moore thought.
We’d parted ways years ago when I found out that Ella was found by the Council but
I often wondered what made Deacon decide to leave Los Angeles and take up residence
in New Port, Maine. What kind of freedom did that small beach town offer him?
“Deacon, I’m glad you called. It only took you forever. What are you so busy with
that you couldn’t return my call for so long?” I asked, only half-jokingly. I sat
on the couch and placed my head in my hand, hoping to offset the dull ache that was
turning into a roar. Time was now of the essence, even more so now that my time was
running out. Laurent wouldn’t harm Ella, not just yet. He would be too busy teaching
her to control her memories, and that would make it easier for him to use her. It
would be when she became uncooperative that her safety would be at risk.
Deacon snorted. “My man, it’s the ladies,” he joked in that deep baritone voice. The
six foot three, two hundred twenty pound man that looked like an offensive lineman
had often times given me sensitivity training for the opposite sex. “You know how
it is when you’re young, sexy, and available! You can’t keep the ladies off you!”
The bliss and humor in the deep rumble of his voice proved he was a lair. That was
the voice of a man who had found
one
woman who couldn’t get enough of him, and vice versa.
Jealousy didn’t have a chance to rear its ugly head. My deep need to have Ella by
my side drowned it, but this conversation in itself was proof that wasn’t going to
happen. Deacon would understand what I was asking him; he would know why I needed
him to be there for Ella when the time came that I couldn’t, and that time was fast
approaching.
The soft chiding of a woman in the background confirmed my assumptions. Deacon’s voice
softened as he explained to her who I was and that he would join her on the porch
later.
“Yeah, man sounds like she has you purring like a kitten, and not that other way around,”
I teased. I was happy for him. He’d lost just as much as I had, if not more, in his
time as Chorý. It wasn’t something we discussed often, but I remembered the night
he lost Vidette.
“Ha! You are right about that. Something about a woman accepting your faults and all
will do that to you, but what would a young sapling like you know about that?” Deacon
kidded back.
Though I wasn’t as old as Deacon, he knew about my past with Hélène and the hole that
losing her had left.
“Sorry, man,” he apologized. “It’s been a while since we talked, and even longer since
you told me what happened.”
“Don’t worry about it, man. I only wish that I was calling you on better terms,” I
said grimly, the banter between us was now over, replaced by dark silence.
Deacon grunted. I could tell he was weighing his options. He’d built a new life in
New Port and he probably wondered if my favor could put that in jeopardy; the problem
was that it could and most likely would.
“Does she know?” I asked him in his silence, somehow knowing that the woman he was
with was human.
“Yeah, man. She knows everything,” he answered, without hesitation or remorse.
There were no rules among our kind, no one to govern us other than the Council that
wanted to eradicate us, but most Chorý never revealed to humans what they were. We
rarely settled down with a human for fear of
la Luxure
, the lust for human blood that turned a Chorý into an uncontrollable blood-addicted
vampire. Though love was thought to keep some Chorý grounded, there weren’t many Chorý
that were willing to take the chance with the one they loved. So they sacrificed their
happiness for the longevity of the human.
I started, “That’s good, Deek. Really, man. I know I am asking a lot—”
“You haven’t asked me anything yet,” Deacon broke in, his tone brisk. He was ready
to get down to business, and I was done inching my way forward.
“Laurent is back,” I revealed. The sharp intake of air told me that he might have
forgotten some things from my past, but Laurent wasn’t one of them. “The girl I left
in search for—”
“Yeah, Eloise. I remember.”
Deacon didn’t know Ella’s nickname, and I filled him in on it and the situation that
I was in. He was with me on not trusting the Council.
“How’d they find her when you couldn’t?” he asked, unknowingly voicing a question
that had been troubling me, as well. “I know you said something about the fact that
they weren’t sure whether or not it was her, but what in the blazes made them claim
her as the next Arc?”
I wondered if I would get any answers from Jace now that he was supposedly on our
side. “No clue, but I’ve been wondering that very same thing,” I confided. “I haven’t
asked Jace yet, and I am not even sure that I want to waste my breath in doing so.
But I have a lot to figure out, and not much time to do it. That’s sorta where you
come in, Deek.”
“Hell, man. I gave up my investigating work long ago. I don’t even know where half
of my contacts ended up—dead, I’m sure—so I don’t see where I could help you.”
He wasn’t looking for an easy out. He was right. When he left Moore’s crew, he’d left
everything behind, including a few of the very things that I would need him to have,
but there were two important tasks I needed from him.
“That’s okay, man. The contacts wouldn’t do anything but lead a trail back to you.
I know how Laurent works. I know you still have the GPS and maps of Nova Scotia Islands
like I asked you to keep.”
Deacon grunted in agreement.
“I need to get those off of you a.s.a.p. There is one other thing I need you to do
for me, and I can’t do it without you, man. Ella’s life depends on it.”
“What are you asking me to do, Kale? What can I do that you can’t?” His voice held
concern and curiosity, mixed with a bit of apprehension.
I stood up and headed over to the empty cooler. I stared at it for a long moment before
I replied. I’d never thought it would come to this. “I need you to protect Ella from
me, but first I need you to prepare a bunker, one where only you will have the key.
After we save her life, take me, lock me up, and throw away the damned key.”
The only way thought to beat
la Luxure
was to starve one’s self of blood until the beast was beaten into submission or until
your death. I needed Ella safe and far away from me for as long as it took, even if
it meant that I would never beat the beast in her lifetime.
***
After the conversation with Deek, I headed out to hunt. Bagged blood now made me vomit,
and the beast would be pleased with nothing but warm blood from a source with a beating
heart. For now, I could tame the beast with drinking from a deer or rabbit, but the
beast’s compliancy wouldn’t last long. It grew keener and stronger, ever changing
inside me, and its resolve was stronger than my own.
I had a week, maybe two, and it was probably best to tell Jace now, just in case.
It sickened me to know that Ella could be left with Jace and the deceitful members
of the Council, and more than ever, I was pleased that Deek decided to fly in as soon
as possible—and not without the permission and proper scolding of his new mate Celica.
She’d tried to harden her sweet and warm voice when warning that getting Deek into
trouble would cost me my hide. The Creole accent almost made me change my mind, but
reality set in. I’d promised her that I would make sure he went home safe and sound.