Chapter 7
The plane touched down in Anchorage in the dark of night. She could see the city sprawled out below like scattered diamonds on black velvet as they neared it, and the lights were beautiful after being away from civilization for so long.
When the plane came to a stop, she took a deep breath.
She was home. Sort of.
Her hand found Spence’s in the dark cabin, squeezing once before letting go.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah. Yes. Just … breathing.”
The SUV was waiting on the tarmac, engine running to keep the interior warm. Emmy climbed in after Spence, Zander sliding in beside her with that preternatural grace that made him look like he was gliding rather than walking.
The driver pulled away from the plane without a word, and Emmy watched the city lights slide past, familiar and strange at once. “We’ve never actually talked about where I’ll be in the house. Will I be in my old room, or—”
“You’ll sleep in my room. I’ve had a closet built for you already.”
She nodded. “Okay then. I can live out of my suitcase tonight. And I’ll begin moving my things downstairs tomorrow when I get home from classes.”
“No worries,” Zander said. “Your things have already been moved.”
Emmy felt the beginnings of her temper, but she carefully asked, “What do you mean, moved?”
“We moved new flock members in,” Zander answered, is voice calm and measured. “I had your belongings packed and relocated to my suite.”
“ Our suite, Sir,” Spence corrected gently.
Emmy’s jaw tightened. “You went through my things.”
“I didn’t personally—”
“Someone did. You had strangers touch my stuff, pack it up, decide what went where, without asking me first?”
“You’re right,” Zander said immediately. “I should have asked. I apologize.”
The easy capitulation took some wind out of her sails, but not all of it. “I’m not some … some thing you can just rearrange when it’s convenient.”
“I know that.” His hand found hers in the dark. “It was thoughtless. I was focused on logistics — room assignments, scheduling, making sure the new flock members had proper accommodations. I didn’t think about how it would feel to have your space invaded without permission.”
Emmy looked out the window again, processing. Part of her was still pissed, but logically, she’d assumed she’d be moving into his suite. But that wasn’t what pissed her off. He’d been high-handed, making decisions without talking to her.
“Who packed my things?” she asked finally.
“A professional organizer. Someone trusted, who specializes in this kind of work. She’s discreet, has worked for us before, and her ethics are above reproach.”
“And where exactly did everything go?”
“I had another closet built in the bedroom,” Zander said. “It made the living area smaller, but I had plenty of room to start with. You should find your clothes hung and folded in a similar pattern to the way they were in your old room.”
Emmy’s irritation warred with curiosity. “You had a closet built.”
“Two weeks ago. While we were still at Mordnik. You’ll also find a desk and chair identical to the setup you had in our suite in the silo.”
She didn’t know what to do with that. The presumption of it rankled, but the care behind it. Fuck . That made it hard to be mad.
Not impossible, though.
“I’m still annoyed,” she said finally.
“Noted. I’m truly sorry I didn’t think to talk to you about it.”
“Noted.”
Zander’s mouth curved. “Fair enough.”
Emmy wanted to change the subject, so she asked, “Where are Svetlana and Vladislav being held? Are there jail cells somewhere in the coterie house underground?”
“There are,” Zander answered, his voice low and matter-of-fact, “but Serva and Vassal are in Fairbanks, undergoing a slave-training bootcamp supervised by Kendra. She estimates it’ll take three to five months to get them fully broken, at which point they’ll be leased to a particularly cruel Master Vampire in Colombia who put a substantial bid in for them before I even put them on the market. ”
Emmy blinked, his casual use of the word leased a reminder of the vampire world’s cold rules. They were owned now, and her heart settled in her chest. They’d tried to kill her, and they’d lost their freedom. It was a better punishment than death, in her eyes.
Zander met her gaze. “Kendra’s thorough. When she’s finished, they’ll be obedient, broken, and profitable. They’ll be gone on a five-year lease, and then I’ll put them on the auction block to see who wants to lease them next.”
She’d been exposed to supernatural consequences before. In their world, cruelty was a way to help guarantee safety, and she appreciated that Zander and Kendra could comfortably wield it.
“Next year, only Senatus vampires will be invited,” Spence said. “The following year will be for Concilio members.”
“And we’ll continue to alternate as long as it seems prudent,” Zander said. “I plan to remain a member of both as long as both august bodies allow it. Geographically speaking, I’m between the territories. We’ll see how long I can pull it off.”
“And if they tell you to choose?” Emmy asked. She was attached to him now. If he put himself in the middle of a war, she’d be part of it, too.
“Alaska is in America, and most of my dearest friends are as well. I’ll choose the Senatus.”
Emmy breathed out in relief. Her father would undoubtedly choose the Senatus if the two factions broke out in war, and she would not want to oppose her family.
She didn’t actually believe it would come to full-out war, but she figured there would be more skirmishes while the two powerhouses found a balance.
The rest of the drive passed in relative silence, Emmy watching the city give way to mountain roads, evergreens dark against the darker sky. When they finally pulled through the gate and up to the house, she felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease.
At least this part was familiar.
Security took their luggage, and Emmy followed Spence and Zander into the house, down the hallway, through the kitchen, and then into pantry.
The hidden door was open, with security watching who went through.
They went down the steps, but then kept going.
She’d only been past the first hallway a handful of time, mostly when she’d visited Chance’s room.
The stairs down were concrete and industrial, nothing like the warm wood and glass upstairs. Three locked doors, each requiring different codes and palm scans, and then they were in a small concrete-walled vestibule with another steel door.
“To the left is the playroom,” Spence said.
They went down another floor, and Zander told her, “This is our floor. A left turn and down another floor takes you to the dungeon and cells with new vampires.”
Zander opened the steel door, which opened into a tiny room — more of an airlock, really — with no lights.
The door sealed behind them with a pressurized hiss, and Emmy stood in complete darkness.
“Say your name,” Spence told her. “First and last.”
“Emmy Drake,” she said clearly.
Nothing happened, and Zander said, “Full name.”
“Emerald Drake.”
Lights flooded the space, making her blink, and a palm scanner glowed beside another keypad.
“If you touch anything before the lights come on, you’re locked in until someone opens it from the outside,” Spence told her.
“Your palm is already in the system,” Zander said. “The code, for now, is a triangle, 1-5-9-6-3-2.”
Emmy pressed her hand to the scanner, waited for the beep, then punched in the numbers. The inner door clicked open.
“Welcome home,” Spence said softly.
They walked through a large living area to their suite, and it wasn’t at all what she expected.
The bedroom dominated the space, and Emmy’s breath caught as she took it in.
The walls were textured and detailed with subtle Renaissance-inspired molding, though the colors were muted earth tones rather than gilt.
Soft tans dominated, with deep hunter green accents that made the space feel grounded rather than ostentatious.
The ceiling drew her eye up to coffered panels that created geometric patterns Emmy figured would’ve been at home in a Florentine palazzo, but executed in warm woods rather than painted excess.
The bed was a statement piece. Massive, with four carved wooden columns rising toward the ceiling, though no canopy hung between them — just the suggestion of old-world grandeur without the claustrophobic fabric.
The headboard was intricately carved but not fussy, and the bedding looked sinfully soft in shades of cream and that same deep green.
Beneath and around the bed, a huge fluffy rug in pale sage provided contrast to the polished hardwood floors, thick enough her toes would sink into it.
Dark wood nightstands matched the bed’s aesthetic. Straight lines mixed with subtle carved details, artistic without being ornate.
The sitting area near what appeared to be a window made her pause. As she moved closer, she realized it was a monitor displaying a live feed of outside, with curtains framing it to complete the illusion. Clever, for an underground suite and a vampire who can’t be in the sun.
In front of it sat a grouping of two high-backed chairs and a loveseat, all clean lines, and upholstered in soft leather with both hunter green and pale sage pillows, arranged around a low table with a marble top.
Another thick rug anchored the seating area, this one in deeper tans with green accents woven through.
Against one wall stood a desk that matched her setup from the silo — sleek and modern, ready for her to plug her laptop in and get started, but even it had been chosen to complement the room’s aesthetic rather than clash with it.
Soft incandescent lighting came from wall sconces that looked like they could’ve been pulled from a centuries-old manor, casting warm pools of light rather than harsh LED brightness.
The effect was surprisingly cohesive. Old-world bones with modern comfort, masculine without being oppressive.
Spence opened a door, and Emmy walked to it.
Her closet.