Traitor (4 page)

There was no cool presence around as I stalked out of the bookshop, and for some reason, that worried me even more.

I walked home, shoving my hands deep in my pockets to keep them warm. The sharp bite in the air spelled winter, and that usually meant the vampires came out to play for longer, but I hadn’t come across a single one since the fight against the BVA. Daimhín was still on the missing list, the vampires who’d joined the BVA’s call to arms were all either dead or in the Council’s cells, and the rest were hiding out. I shivered, telling myself it was from the cold night air rather than the idea the vampires knew something I didn’t.

I heard footsteps behind me three streets away from the cul-de-sac. I slowed my pace, sending out my other senses. Only one. Possibly someone making their way home. Possibly someone completely innocent.

But the red pulsing humanity behind me was cloaked with darkness, and I wasn’t about to let that follow me all the way home. I crossed the road and turned down a dark lane that served as a shortcut between two main roads.

I gripped my dagger eagerly. Since I was no longer trying to be a good influence on Emmett, I was free to indulge in the darkness inside me. I sometimes tried to recall the guilt of using vampire-like gifts or tried to mourn the loss of life, but a switch had flipped in my brain, and death didn’t seem like a huge deal any longer. It had been almost a year since I’d killed the vampire Maximus in his sleep, a year in which I had changed from a victim to a hunter, and I wasn’t sure if I could ever go back, no matter what Mrs. Yaga’s will needed me to agree to.

The footsteps behind me hastened as I hid into the shadows of a dank doorway. The scent of urine and vomit made the bile rise in my gut. I saw the figure hesitate under a street light, and I waited until he came closer.

I crouched, counting his heartbeats as he approached. He was about to walk right past me, but I leapt at him, knocking him off-kilter. He automatically reached out and gripped my jacket, managing to pull me down, too.

I straddled him, landing two punches to his jaw before he recovered and fought back wildly. Like the other human I had encountered who had been shrouded with the shadows, he was unusually strong, and a well-timed strike to my torso gave him the opening he needed to get the better of me.

I let him roll me over and wrap his hands around my neck. His mouth widened into a bloody grin. I still had my dagger, and I was about to stab him in the gut when I managed to get a good look at him.

He was young, late teens at most. His eyes were hazel, and in my mind’s eye, I saw Emmett being strangled by a force he couldn’t control. I couldn’t kill the boy for it, despite how hard hearted I had become.

I let the knife slip out of my fingers and reached up to touch his feverish skin with my bare hands. I held his cheeks. His eyes narrowed with confusion, and his fingers tightened. I struggled to take a breath, but I stayed calm and prepared to let the light inside me suck the shadow away.

He convulsed, his entire body shaking, but his rough grip still held, and my hands weakened. I used the last of my strength to jerk my head upward and rammed my forehead into his face. He let go as blood spurted from his nose. I grunted from the wrenching pain in my side, but I held on, determined.

I threw him onto his back as the shadows swirled under my skin. I heard them whisper and moan for me to join the darkness inside, but I closed my eyes and let the light burn them away. My skin was on fire, my head spinning with uncontrollable urges, and when it was over and all of the shadows had been destroyed, I collapsed beside the unconscious boy, panting hard.

I dried my face with my sleeves and discovered my eyes, ears, and nose had bled profusely. Mrs. Yaga’s warnings about paying the price came back to me, so I distracted myself by checking on the young man next to me.

His chest rose and fell steadily, and I let out a sigh of relief. He would survive with only a few bruises to show for it. And possibly a broken nose, I added as I watched blood trickle from his nostrils.

My stomach rumbled, and my fangs shot out so fast they sliced my lower lip. I licked my bloody mouth. I pressed my thumb against the slick, fresh blood on the man’s chin, feeling a little lightheaded at the sight of the crimson life-force on my fingertip. The bloodlust was so unexpected that my hand was halfway to my mouth before I realised it. I hesitated, staring. It was such a waste, and yet, if I had a taste, did I really trust myself not to go further?

Ever since I had used Gabe’s light as a weapon, I had been different. Maybe my body needed blood, but I wasn’t healing, and pain had become far more intense. I was weak, too human when I needed to be
more
.

That was my excuse as I sucked the blood from my thumb, feeling a high like no other. A rabid sense of desire flooded my body.

I leaned over him, sniffing and hesitating, longing to satisfy my craving. I argued with myself, but the taste in my mouth shouted louder than any sense I had. I licked his chin, and a million memories rushed through my head: Wesley, Becca, Carl, Peter. All of the blood. All of the vital life. The power afterward, the feeling of invincibility. The cause could use that strength. The uprising would need fierce warriors. I could just…

A moan startled me. The young man’s eyes flickered open, and I stepped back, my cheeks flooding with shame. What was I
doing
?

I called for an ambulance, pretending I had found him and that he had been mugged. That would explain why he wasn’t wearing a jacket in winter and why he had no identification. My story didn’t cover my own wounds, so I snuck away when the ambulance arrived.

I ran home, ignoring the pain in my side and the new lust for blood rushing through my body. I slipped into the cul-de-sac unnoticed. Most of the lights were out in the houses. I prayed Carl wasn’t in my home waiting for me, and my prayers were answered.

I showered in a desperate attempt to feel clean, but I shook all night, unable to sleep.

All because of a drop of blood.

Over the last month, Carl and I had developed a routine of mindless entertainment as a way of avoidance. Video games and films a couple of evenings a week had turned out to be reasonable avenues. For two hours or so, we didn’t have to think about wars or lost loved ones. We didn’t have to talk. We didn’t have to be alone.

A few nights after the incident with the shadow guy, I was still jumpy from the blood cravings. I couldn’t tell anyone, couldn’t let them know I was like a junkie craving a fix. The thirst had subsided, but I kept holding my breath in case Carl smelled particularly yummy. I relaxed enough to get into the film and was pretending Emilio Estevez and
The Breakfast Club
hadn’t just made me cry when Carl pressed Pause and blew out a heaving sigh.

I looked over at him. “What’s up?”

“Feeling restless. All of this waiting is…” He shook his head. “We’re always on the verge of something. It’s hard to relax.”

“Same for everyone.”

“Except you get to go out and do things. It’s just… ever think on what our lives would be like if we had never met?” he asked.

“All the time,” I admitted. “I’d be back in my grotty little flat, not having a clue that a succubus was stealing my energy.” I hesitated, ready to lie. “My thirst would be out of control, but I wouldn’t have to deal with anything other than deciding what to eat for dinner or hoping I could make the rent for another month.”

“And I’d still be working for Maria’s father, wondering if there was anything better out there.” He stared at me, but I couldn’t read his expression. “Despite the moaning, the worst days here are better than the best days before. I don’t regret a thing. I thought I would. I thought I would feel bitter about it all, but it feels right. All of this means something.”

“Until you die for it,” I said.
Or get bitten by your hungry best friend.
“Then it means nothing at all.”

“You need to talk about him,” he said softly, mistaking the bitterness of my tone. “Talk
to
him instead of avoiding his calls. You can’t keep blocking what you’re feeling forever.”

I was about to protest when a scream rang out in the night. The sound echoed so loudly I wasn’t entirely sure if it was one voice or many.

“Warning signal.” His voice rose with excitement. “Number five’s on watch.”

“Let’s check it out.”

Carl made it outside first, grabbing a weapon on his way. I couldn’t remember when keeping a weapon stash by my front door had begun to seem normal, but it was definitely convenient.

As I ran outside, an arrow whipped through the air, quickly followed by a low curse, and I knew that Ry was already at his post. We had plans of attack and defence, strategies we had practised as a group. So I wasn’t as worried as I had once been.

After the warning scream, a chilling silence reigned. My eyes adjusted in the dark, but my other senses were faster at picking out life forces. I found an extra six of those.

Val rushed out of Anka’s home, a mace in her hand. Her shoulders expanded, causing her shadow to look like the worst kind of monster. “Leah says assassins,” she hissed at us. “Hybrids of some kind. Imbued with fae magic again. Not a problem.”

“I agree,” I whispered. “They know we’re aware, so let’s take them on. I think Ry grazed one with an arrow. I can smell his blood.” Thankfully, it didn’t smell enticing. “Okay, there are two at the mouth of the cul-de-sac. Two more pairs are moving slowly behind the gardens on each side of the road. Val, you go behind Anka’s house and find the pair moving that way; I’ll take the other side of the road. Carl, get Lorcan and Esther on the street. The three of you need to make sure the ones up front don’t try to help. Ry and the others will be watching from their windows. Make sure you stay in range so they can help you.”

“Do we question them?” Carl asked.

I glared at the darkness as if it were to blame. “No. Not this time. No escape. No mercy. Not when they sneak up on us in the night.”

I expected him to protest, but he only nodded. We separated and slipped into the shadows. I let myself into the first back garden and made my way down, reaching out with my other senses to ensure I didn’t get backed into a corner.

I moved through the small, grass-covered yards faster than the assassins, meeting them halfway. Hearing their approach, I waited, half-hidden by Margie’s stunted apple tree. The pair climbed noisily over a wall to my left, jumping right into the patches of herbs the woman doted over. I lingered in the shadows, waiting for my chance. I counted heartbeats, my palms sweating.

One gave an impatient grunt. “Is this far enough?” he asked too loudly.

The other nodded, his eyes narrowing as he glanced in my direction. I side-stepped quickly and slit the throat of the noisy one before the second could react.

The remaining assassin attacked, and I realised too late that he was the one I should have killed first. He didn’t make a sound as he stepped over the body. I feinted left to right, but he adjusted his moves in a split second.

His fists caught me again and again. I attempted to put some space between us. He crowded me, never slowing, boxing as though he had been training his entire life. I ducked and kicked out, but he jumped over my foot as if he expected the move. He grabbed my hair and yanked hard, using my weight against me. I fell heavily on my side, and pain seared throughout my body.

Ignoring the agony, I scrambled to my feet only to meet his fist with my face. Gritting my teeth, I threw caution to the wind and fell on him, meeting his strikes as best I could until he reached for a weapon. The metal of a blade glinted under the light of the moon.

My side screamed with pain until my sight blurred, but I blocked the assassin’s attacks, barely keeping out of the way of the curved edge of his weapon. He wasn’t as experienced as the ones we had fought before, but he was fuelled with a mad rage that I couldn’t seem to defeat. I was beginning to regret not drinking my fill of blood.

He spun with perfect balance, confusing me until his elbow landed directly against my wound, closely followed by his dagger aimed at my throat. I swallowed a shriek and stumbled out of the arc of his slicing assault, barely avoiding death by his hand. I fought blindly, pain causing my head to feel as if it would spin off my shoulders, but nothing I threw at him slowed his attack. He forced me against the back wall of the house, his blade at my throat, pinning me in place. He hissed in a language I didn’t know. I cut my fingers trying to wrestle the blade away, but I felt the burn of the sharp edge sear through the delicate skin of my throat.

Suddenly, his body stiffened, and the knife fell from his hand. His eyes widened as he gurgled, blood seeping from the corners of his lips. He collapsed, revealing a knife wedged in the back of his neck.

I sank to the ground in relief and gazed up at Desmond as I pressed the back of my hand against the shallow wound on my throat. A friend of Ry, Desmond was an old exiled fae from a low-ranking bloodline. He had lost the source of his family’s power, along with his fortune, when the rest of his people were murdered. I didn’t like him, but I owed him for saving my life.

As usual, he wasn’t alone. Gareth, a small chubby man, never left his side, and I wasn’t sure if they were lovers or if Desmond still had an actual servant.

“Are you an idiot? He was about to finish the spell. It would be quicker to take your own life,” Desmond said haughtily as his companion dragged me to my feet. “You fought like an inexperienced child.”

My heart strummed so fast it left me breathless. “You were watching?”

“I saw it all,” he said. “You’re not fit to lead a pack of dogs.”

“Good thing there are no dogs here.”

His sneer turned into mocking laughter. “That’s a matter of opinion. Gareth, go check on the others.”

Gareth scurried away, but Desmond remained to pass on a few more insults. We were still arguing when Esther came to find us.

“They’re all dead,” she said triumphantly. She glanced from me to Desmond with a frown. “Everything okay here?”

“Not at all,” he said. He searched the pockets of the dead men before stalking off.

Esther eyed my neck with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Come on before he starts stirring shit.”

We followed Des to the front of the houses where some of our friends had gathered. Each step felt as though my feet were weighed down with concrete. Val held a towel against her bleeding arm, but that was the only obvious injury. Our plans had worked well against a small group of enemies.

“Success,” Lorcan said, but his smile was empty.

“And almost disaster,” Desmond said. “Check the bodies. All of them will be carrying another piece of the spell, I’d wager.”

“What spell?” Val asked.

Desmond turned to smirk at me. “An ancient spell that would likely have invoked a figurative plague on these houses. An old one, but a goody.”

“How do you know so much about it?” I demanded.

He held up what looked like a stick that had been dipped in tar. “Fae magic. They attempted to form a triangle, each person bringing a different piece. They wanted to die to make the blood sacrifice. The more blood the better. And this one”—he gestured at me—“almost let herself die, almost let the last utter the very words that would have destroyed us all.”

“Oh, come
on
,” Carl said.

“
She
was almost killed by a half-breed weakling,” Desmond announced. “Her mistakes could have destroyed everyone here.”

“Nobody died,” I said through clenched teeth.

“
This time
.” His smirk widened. “You can’t take care of yourself, never mind anyone else.”

He shoved me, and I almost fell. Lorcan caught my arm, steadying me. Esther moved to stand in front of me and glared at Desmond until he walked away, but he was followed by others.

“They don’t fear you,”
Cam
said from behind me.

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t
want
them to fear me.”

“More fool you.”

Desmond and his groupies moved out of earshot, and
Cam
headed back to the house he was staying in. My friends closed ranks, gathering around me.

“Ava?” Esther asked. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” I shrugged off Lorcan’s hand. “Desmond’s an idiot who interfered because he wanted something to talk about.”

“Are you injured?” Val asked. “You look unsteady on your feet.”

“I’m fine.”

“Ava—” Carl began.

“I said I’m fine,” I snapped. “Jesus, can everyone stop overreacting for a bloody second?”

The four of them exchanged glances that I ignored. I walked away and let myself back into my home to wash the blood from my fingers. Once, the sight of it would have upset me, but I no longer cared.

As if to remind me of the guilt I was supposed to feel, my phone beeped with a text message from my ex-boyfriend, Wesley, apologising because somebody in his family had let
Nancy
see news reports that filled her head with words reminding her of our past. My grandmother’s bad days were coming more frequently since I had lifted the veil between the human and supernatural world.

I heard the front door open and shook my head. My friends were nothing if not persistent. Somebody began to fill the kettle, and I knew I was in for a long night, but at least it gave me an excuse to ignore Wes’s text.

Val, Esther, and Carl were in my kitchen when I headed downstairs.

“We can go over what happened tomorrow,” I said.

Val held up her hand. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“You’re hurt,” Carl said. “Do you need Eddie to come over or something?”

I shook my head.
Definitely not Eddie.
“I’m fine. He got a few lucky digs in at me, that’s all. I didn’t need Desmond’s help. He interfered before I got a chance to finish what I was doing.”

“Ava, you almost fell over,” Esther said.

“Okay, fine,” I snapped. “I admit I wasn’t on top form.”

“How come?” Carl asked.

I blew out a breath. “I didn’t want you all to worry, but I was followed from Eddie’s place the other night.”

The chorus of “What?” and “What happened?” gave me a headache.

“Assassins?” Esther asked. “Were you hurt?”

“It was a human,” I said, “overcome with the shadows, which makes me think Coyle is back in town. That’s if he ever left. I landed heavily, and then I had to burn the shadows away, and that wears me out a little. That’s all.”

“Wears you out?” Carl said. “You bleed. You—”

“I did, but…” I shifted uncomfortably. “That’s not a problem.”

“Gabe said you bled like that when the beasts almost killed you, when he helped you with his light. Ava, maybe you can’t withstand having so much damage done to you all the time.”

I usually failed to get Carl off my back when he had that determined look in his eye. I knew our bond made him care, but they had to keep believing I was as strong as they needed me to be.

“Here’s the thing,” I said. “I admit I was a little off my game tonight, but it’s not what you think. I kind of had a moment when… I might have wanted to drink blood. More specifically, that human’s blood.”