All Just Glass (11 page)

“Sarah,” Zachary said flatly. “I gave her an opening, and she took it.”

Jay nodded, indicating that the same had happened to him. Zachary had barely noticed when Jay had tried to join his fight with Sarah. She hadn’t even glanced away but had reached out and flung the Marinitch across the room. Zachary had heard him hit a wall but hadn’t seen more of him after that.

Adia crossed her arms but failed to suppress a visible shiver at the notion of Sarah’s being the one to inflict such damage.

“It isn’t much consolation,” Michael said, “but I think I may have taken down one of the twins. I have no idea which I managed to get a knife in, but getting rid of either one will make it exponentially easier to deal with the other. They fight as a team.”

“That’s something, at least.”

It was something they could tell Dominique so maybe she wouldn’t decide the three of them were a complete waste of space.

“Hey, what’s this?” Michael got up off the love seat to pick up something from the floor. The movement apparently was too much for him, though. He dropped his head as if dizzy and then rolled over onto his back and lay on the floor while he offered the item to Adia. “One of them must have dropped it.”

Adia looked at the item, which Zachary thought might be a photograph, and then held it at arm’s length before tossing it onto the end table next to him. “That’s sick,” she said.

Morbid curiosity forced Zachary to pick up the picture. The quality of the shot was bad, and the photograph had been scuffed, so it took a minute for his mind to make sense of the swatches of dark and light.

The stream of bright golden color turned into long blond hair. Dark shapes resolved themselves into two figures holding a blond woman gently as they both fed at her throat. Zachary couldn’t make out the details of anyone’s features.

“Sarah?” Jay asked, peering over the couch to see what Zachary held.

He shook his head numbly. “The picture’s too old for it to be Sarah,” he said. “But it could still be Nikolas and Kristopher. I guess they have a penchant for blondes.”

He dropped his head again and shut his eyes. Jay took the picture from his hand.

“It’s not a very useful shot, but should it go in the book anyway?” Jay asked, referring to the immense collection of
notes and images that hunters had put together through the centuries to help them identify their prey.

They hadn’t decided before the door opened again, this time admitting the one person none of them wanted to face yet.

Dominique froze in the doorway, her cold gaze going from one hunter to the next. Disapproval was clear on her face. Zachary tried to sit up, but the dizziness warned him that standing to greet her would be a bad idea.

“I’ve already heard reports,” Adia said, preempting Dominique’s response. “It was a rough fight, but we sustained no losses, and it looks like we have eliminated one of our targets. Also, I have identified a potential contact, so we have a plan for our next move.”

Adia was the consummate liar, Zachary knew. He didn’t think he had ever seen her turn her ability to manipulate people, situations and information against her own mother, but maybe he just hadn’t ever noticed. She wouldn’t have made up the possibility of a contact
entirely
, but he wondered if she would stretch the truth a bit to make their successes look more impressive that day. Given that possibility, he knew that right then was not a good time to ask who the contact was or how useful he or she might be.

“And that?” Dominique asked, nodding at the photograph that Jay was still holding.

“One of the vampires dropped it,” Jay answered, handing it over.

Dominique’s reaction was like Adia’s, instant revulsion visible despite her normal reserve. Zachary, disturbed, had to avert his gaze. It wasn’t that he didn’t know perfectly well why
any Vida would be disgusted by the bloodbonds and sycophants who willingly bared their throats to the vampires. He just couldn’t stand to see such a reaction from Dominique.

He rubbed at his own throat, remembering. Sarah hadn’t just fed from him. She had gripped his mind and sent him deep into the bliss that Heather had recently described. If Dominique had known any of the thoughts that had passed through his mind as the blood had flowed out, that disgust on her face would surely have been directed at him.

He wanted to hate Sarah for what she had done to him, but he kept recalling the memories she had dragged from both of their minds.

I don’t know if I can kill her
, he thought as Dominique said, “Foul.” She ripped the photograph in half. “Probably left intentionally to make us think of Sarah. This isn’t how I want my daughter remembered.”

She methodically tore the photo apart. It was the most sentimental thing Zachary had ever seen her do.

He realized he was rubbing his neck again, and shuddered. Dominique glanced at him, her expression back to the calm disapproval he was used to from her, but she didn’t say anything. Under the circumstances, his shiver could have been caused by low blood pressure.

“What’s next?” Dominique asked Adia.

“Next …” Adia paused, thinking on her feet. “Zachary, Michael and Jay will all need some recovery time. I made a contact at that bookstore that may be able to lead us to our remaining targets, but first we need to relocate. If our targets are going to be launching full-scale attacks on us, we should be somewhere
less well known and better fortified, at least until we’re back to our peak strength. I assume we have a safe house that Sarah doesn’t know about.” Dominique nodded. Adia pondered a moment longer, then shook her head, declining to continue with her plans. “I think that needs to be our first move. Once we’re there, we can recover our strength. Everyone gather only what you need. I don’t want to stay in this house any longer than necessary.”

Dominique didn’t look happy with the delay, and Zachary took the blame for that upon himself, but she didn’t argue with the daughter she had put in charge of this mission. Fortunately, though Zachary had been planning to stay with Dominique as long as necessary, he had not yet unpacked his bags. It would be easy to go somewhere else. One house, one bed, one table, was like any other.

“A
DIANNA, YOU
—”
Dominique broke off when her oldest daughter turned to her with a focused expression.

“Yes?” she asked when Dominique paused, reminding herself that she had put Adianna in charge for a reason. Her daughters were—had been—adults, ready for authority, but she had kept them strictly under her command for too long. The recent disaster had made her realize that it was time to make adult responsibilities a little clearer.

She did believe that Adianna was capable, but defying old habits was still difficult.

“I can gather the books,” she said, changing her tone from commanding to offering. Even though they did not need the
records to identify their current targets, leaving the heavy tomes behind was not an option.

Adianna nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

There were two books. One was an ancient tome of Vida law. Every witch of their line was required to study those pages, and needed to be able to recite each law word for word before she was given her primary weapon and named a full member. The second was a collection of notes and drawings about every vampire hunters had ever encountered, currently gathered in a giant binder.

Those invaluable records, representing centuries of knowledge, had been in horrendous shape when Dominique had first seen them, with information, sometimes in other languages, jotted down on scraps of paper, parchment and even bark, often worn, faded or crumbling beyond all readability.

She had sealed the salvageable drawings in archive-quality sleeves, laboriously worked with language experts to translate pieces no one had read in decades, and agonized over her first typewriter in an effort to transcribe and organize what could be read of the older, handwritten notes.

After Jacqueline’s death, locking herself away with the occasionally ancient, dusty texts had been soothing. Pregnant with her second child, she hadn’t been able to hunt. Sitting, doing nothing—indeed, being
protected
by an eight-year-old orphan child and the human she had married—had been infuriating. She had wanted nothing more than to call up old friends, whose companionship had always been comforting, if not entirely healthy.

She slid the drawing of the twin vampires into the proper
acid-free sleeve and then gathered the books into a canvas bag.

Maybe she
should
have spent those months hunting instead. An unfortunate accident eighteen years earlier might have saved her daughter and nephew from learning what it meant to put a knife in someone they loved.

Please, Dommy
.

She could almost hear his voice pleading with her.

Please. You owe me this
.

She tried to chase the phantom away. He was long dead. She knew, because she was the one who had killed him. He hadn’t been strong enough to do it himself—just as Sarah wasn’t strong enough now.

“Did you manage to reach any of our other contacts?” Adianna asked, returning to the room with a duffel bag thrown over her shoulder.

Dominique shook her head, recalling with frustration how her many phone calls had gone. At first she had been able to reach most of the hunters she dialed. They were grumpy and groggy, often having just gone to bed, but they answered.

Some of them told her they would contact her if they got word, but made it clear they had no interest in joining the hunt. Others told her flat out to go to hell. Word must have traveled fast, because after the first round of attempts, she hadn’t reached anything but voice mail. The one contact who had asked to set up a meeting had then left a message saying he had changed his mind.

Traitors. They claimed moral objections, but the truth was they didn’t want to risk their hides hunting powerful prey, especially when it already knew all their names and faces.

“Our allies know what is going on, but I do not believe any of them will prove useful.”

Adianna shrugged, seeming unconcerned. “Might as well keep it in the family.”

She looked up into Dominique’s eyes as she said it. Her gaze held many questions and a silent plea of
Don’t make me do this
.

Adianna prided herself on her control, with good reason, but she was still Dominique’s daughter; she couldn’t hide perfectly when she looked into her mother’s eyes. But though Dominique saw the plea, Adianna clearly already knew she wouldn’t respond. They couldn’t afford to be sentimental that day.

Dominique would watch her and make sure she didn’t balk, because forward was the only direction that would get them through this. She wouldn’t let Adianna become another Jacqueline, whose impulsiveness and doubts had destroyed her, along with most of her family.

“I’m going to see if Zachary and Michael need help,” Adianna said, looking away. “They’re pretty worn down. You check on Jay.”

Adianna turned away without waiting for acknowledgement, a gesture Dominique knew had been learned from her. It didn’t leave any space for an argument, had Dominique wanted to make one.

Jay had arrived with a backpack and a small tote bag that held all his weaponry. When Dominique reached him, he had finished packing but was struggling with the zipper because of his broken arm.

She reached down to help without asking, or even looking
directly at the empath. Nevertheless, he responded as his line tended to, with no regard for her obvious signals that she had no desire to engage in conversation.

“It isn’t your fault,” he said.

“A hunter shouldn’t try to be a therapist,” she said, zipping the backpack and tossing it at him. He caught it one-handed without a problem.

“I just wanted to—”

“It
isn’t
my fault,” she interrupted. She knew too well the way Marinitch witches worked when they tried to get inside someone’s head. “If anything, it’s the fault of those damned fools at SingleEarth. If it weren’t for their insistence that we honor their alliances, my daughter never would have been put into a situation where she was forced to endure the company of a leech just because he was pretending to play nice.”

The Vida line had laws forbidding relationships with their prey—even friendly ones, much less romantic—for a reason. They could all pretend to be human for a while. They could pretend to be charming, even. She had seen it. Believing that they were, however, was a good way to get someone killed.

“You’ve never once had doubts?” Jay asked.

She answered him honestly, because that was the only way to deal with an empath. Lies only made them pry further.

“Everyone doubts at some point. If we’re lucky, we learn better. If we’re not, it gets us or someone else killed. If you want to second-guess this situation, do it in your own head. We need a hunter, not a shrink.”

She had checked on him. Now, as she returned to Adianna, Michael and Zachary, who were gathered in the living room,
she said, “Jay will be right down. Adianna, let me give you the safe house address. I won’t be traveling or staying with you.”

She had put Adianna in charge but didn’t expect her to question the statement, and was not disappointed. This was Adianna’s hunt, and Dominique’s presence would only undermine her. More important, this was a crucial lesson for Adianna to learn—one Dominique had already studied once before, and felt no need to review.

She had turned to go before she heard Adianna say, “If you’re not coming with us, then you’re in charge of keeping an eye on Robert. He’s conflicted about the vampires, and he and his sister are both young and naïve. He might try to join her or he might try to rescue her, but either way, he could potentially lead us right to our targets.”

Dominique nodded. “I know a pair of local shapeshifters—birds—who wouldn’t be much use in a hunt but do good surveillance work.” If they weren’t being called upon to risk their pinfeathers, they would probably even return her call. “I’ll see if they can help.”