28. Vasile
Chapter twenty-eight
Vasile
I don’t find Tamesis that first night.
The bond is strong, but he knows how to manipulate it, even if it feels more equal than our sire-turn bond ever did. Every time I think I’ve found him, I come across a dead end, a dark corner he’s never been in at all.
It doesn’t help that I’m having to keep myself out of sight. Ophelia sent a spell bag over during the day—something from Pris, to hide my scent, and I haven’t asked how she got it, but I supposed they might be making a lot of them if they’re planning to take Tamesis on.
He sends me more texts through the night as he feels my growing frustration. What’s the point in hiding it from him? I want to catch him, and showing any weakness he can exploit will only make him believe I am closer to being beaten.
Not even close, my warrior.
Did you really believe I would be there?
I have better taste than that.
Promise you’ll come back to me, and I’ll tell you where I am.
The last text makes me growl, wanting to throw my phone against the nearest wall and watch it smash into tiny pieces, but I need it. It’s the only actual connection with Tamesis I have.
I head back to the café just before sunrise. I’m cutting it too close, being careless, but I’m angry and frustrated, and I simply want to find Deacon and be sure he’s safe.
Lark is behind the counter when I walk in. He’s cleaning; it doesn’t look like he’ll open again tomorrow.
“Dante called,” he says as I close the door, and I frown. “Deacon is back. They are planning to lure Tamesis in tomorrow night.”
I let out a heavy breath. “To Bite?”
“Yes.” He blinks slowly, when he does at all. I’m surprised by it in all honesty. He clearly goes to a lot of effort to seem human—more effort than Saide or Rook ever did.
“Right.” I’ll simply go there, then. No doubt they’ll let Tamesis settle in, feel like he’s got the upper hand. If I can sneak in before Kieran arrives—because I have no doubt they’re still going ahead with that plan, foolish as it might be—then I can kill Tamesis before any of them even arrive.
“I assume you have a plan?”
“I am beginning to,” I say. I take a seat at one of the tables. “You’re fae. Why can’t you help us?”
“I told you. I do not have magic beyond my glamour—”
“And your blood, yes.” I shake my head. “We could use a little something extra.”
Lark is silent for a while, though he doesn’t leave the café and go upstairs. No. Instead, he comes to sit in one of the armchairs opposite me, and I do my best to remain still under his intense stare.
“I am supposed to be living a normal life here.”
“As normal as you can have?”
“Yes.”
Then I suppose… “I am in your debt,” I say, and an expression flickers over Lark’s face that looks suspiciously like surprise.
“Oh, I doubt that. There is leniency when it comes to you. To this.”
“What do you mean?”
Lark takes one deep breath, then lets it out slowly. “I am one of three brothers,” he says, and I frown at the non-sequitur. “Or, I was. And like most fae, the three of us found ourselves utterly fascinated by and enamoured of humans.”
“I… don’t understand.”
“We all found ourselves with a human we could tie ourselves to,” he says, thumb rubbing over the inside of his right wrist. There’s nothing beneath but smooth, unmarked skin. “Our eldest brother first. Then the next—the one you met. Then me. Each of us with a soul bond to a human we had never met.”
“Do fae usually form soul bonds with humans?”
“It is rare but not unheard of. For three in one family? For us ? It was a scandal—or would have been if any of those bonds had taken the way they were supposed to.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
Lark focuses on my face again—his attention having turned inwards—and blinks once. “It has to do with Tamesis.”
“One of your brothers bonded with him?”
“No, he didn’t. That is rather the point.”
I frown. Now I really don’t understand. Tamesis would do anything for power, but when I say so, Lark shakes his head.
“He dislikes power he cannot control. We fae are, by our very nature, capricious. Uncontrollable. My brother knew it would not work, but he still did everything in his power to keep Tamesis safe, including, apparently, giving him his blood.”
My own blood thunders in my ears, and I remember what Jeremiah told me.
A fae really was helping him. But the Huntsman, the fae who came for Moreau? No, it must be the other.
“When did they—” I begin.
“My brother did not discover his soul bond until after Tamesis was already a vampire. Before he turned you.”
“And where’s your brother now?” If we have to fight a fae at the end of all this… Jeremiah said Tamesis wasn’t getting any more help, but what if that’s not true?
“Dead,” Lark says without a flicker of emotion. “Fooling around in the lives of humans inevitably got him killed.”
“What does that mean for us?”
Lark leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It means that I can guarantee Tamesis has no more fae help than he did months ago. Than he did fifteen years ago. He is adrift, alone, and if you kill him, he will stay that way.”
I think back to the fae on the bridge, the one who took Moreau away and told me to leave Tamesis’ corpse behind. “Did he—The night I killed Tamesis before, the fae who came for Moreau…”
“The Huntsman,” Lark says with a huff. “He knew of the bond, of course. I believe he thought our brother would not stoop so low.”
I let out a shaky breath.
“It’s frowned upon? To give blood to a vampire?”
“To a vampire like Tamesis, yes. And generally, truth be told. You still feel it, don’t you? The power in there.”
“Yes.” I sigh, resting my head back against the top of the sofa. “Fae blood brought him back. I should have burnt him. Left nothing but ash.”
“As you say, it was the fae blood that brought him to life again, not your unwillingness to desecrate a corpse. I think we can firmly lay that blame at my brother’s door. But whatever Tamesis has left, that is all. His resources are finite, just like his power. You can defeat him, Vasile, as impossible as it may seem.”
“Yeah.” I rub my temples. “But not today.”
“Perhaps tonight.”
“Perhaps tonight,” I agree.
I sleep fitfully, even though I know I should rest up as well as I can, and when I wake an hour before sunset, Lark is already moving around in the living room.
“The curtains are closed,” he calls, and I slip out of the bedroom to get ready.
My hands shake as I dress, and I stare critically at my reflection in the mirror. Perhaps I should call them all now. Let them know I am alive.
No. I don’t have time to fight them on why I should go into Bite. And I only have so much time to get there before Tamesis does.
I want to be waiting for him. If I can kill him before they even arrive—
Everyone will be safe.
I’ll have ended what I began.
When I step back out into the living room, Lark is waiting for me. He leans against the back of the sofa and eyes me critically before he rolls up one sleeve.
“Once more,” he says. “I would not like Tamesis to have the advantage.”
“You said…”
“Do not look a gift horse in the mouth, crai. Take what I offer you. It will help.”
I scowl, but there’s no point in arguing with him. He’s right. We need whatever advantage we can get, and if that means I drink some more fae blood, well, it’s no hardship to me.
Lark raises his arm and I take it, lowering my head over his left wrist. “You’re sure?”
“My brother told you he owed you, did he not?”
“But you killed him. I owe you a debt.” The words are seared in my memory, along with Deacon’s slack, pale face and the way blood slid down Moreau’s throat.
“He did.”
Lark simply looks at me, then at his wrist again.
I sink my teeth in, fangs slicing easily through his flawless skin. He doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t move at all. Instead, he waits as I swallow careful mouthfuls, his magic already sweeping through me.
At first, it makes me dizzy. The room spins around me. Five mouthfuls in and that sensation settles, heady power coursing through my limbs.
“Enough,” Lark says, and I retract my fangs instantly, then lick up a stray drop before I let him go.
“Will you—Did I—”
“You did not take too much,” he says. His eyes narrow. “How do you feel?”
“I feel…” I feel as though I could take on the entire world and win. There’s still some trepidation at the idea of facing Tamesis again, but it’s overshadowed by the magic pulsing beneath my skin.
Lark gives me a thin smile. “Be careful in how you use it,” he says. “It will react according to your instincts.”
“Thank you.”
He nods again and sees me to the door of the café. Night is just beginning to fall, the sun already down. We aren’t far from Bite. I might as well run.
“Be sure to kill him, Vasile. Do not waste a precious gift.” Lark doesn’t smile, but I half expect to see one on his face when I look at him.
“I will,” I say and set off.
I keep away from people as much as I am able, running faster than I ever have before. When I arrive at Bite, the building and its surrounding area are dark and quiet. I cannot hear a heartbeat.
Dante said they would arrive later, late enough that I should have time to settle in. If Tamesis arrives early—as I suspect he will—then I have time enough to ambush and kill him before they even arrive.
I dart around the side of the building, careful to keep my face hidden when I pass security cameras. The door is locked but not warded, and one sharp pull has it open, the lock now broken.
Magic tingles through me, and I let out a shaky breath. I cannot get overzealous. I need to ensure I have enough left to deal with Tamesis when it’s time.
I hear nothing inside, either, though I am still careful as I make my way down the hallway. His mages can hide their heartbeats—we know that already—but I come across no one as I walk into the main area of the club.
Empty, in the gloom, it is just a large room ready for battle. The bars are closed up, tables and chairs gone. I shake my head and go into the back again.
The club itself is not a good place to wait, but one of the backrooms or offices may serve my purposes better. I look in a store cupboard and the toilets before I arrive at another locked door.
This will do it. Tamesis will know I am here when he arrives; the bond stretches between us even now, though I cannot tell where he is from it. This room is likely not too large, giving me an advantage if I can be fast enough.
Except, when I force the door open, someone is already there, sitting in a seat on the opposite side of the desk.
Tamesis smiles at me, all fangs and dead eyes. He’s wearing all black, and the leather of his gloves creaks as he threads his fingers together, resting his chin on them.
He looks entirely at ease.
“Vasile,” he says, my name a purr as it falls from his lips. “What a pleasant surprise you are.”