Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
“What will you do now?” Belle asked as she drove him back.
“Not sure yet.” It was raining again, the oncoming headlights fracturing into starbursts across the wet glass. Antoine stared through them, unseeing, grateful that Cally hadn’t been anywhere near Roberto, but now faced with the prospect of explaining they had to leave her home city.
“You could stay with me,” Belle suggested, an uncharacteristically tentative note in her voice.
“Go back to France?” He couldn’t help the scoff that slipped out. “Just what you wanted.”
“No, I meant stay at my house. It would keep you here, in Boston. A base of operations while you plan whatever comes next.”
He blinked. “At your house?”
“Well, the one I’m renting.” Her eyes stayed fixed on the road. “It’s in Fisher Hill.”
“You’ve got a house in Fisher Hill?”
She glanced at him in irritation. “Are you going to echo everything I say?”
“Sorry,” he muttered, with a shake of his head. “You caught me by surprise.”
The steady pulse of the windshield wipers accentuated the silence.
“I wish I were stronger,” Antoine said, staring down at his hands in his lap. “I don’t think I can take him, not with the power gap you said.”
Belle didn’t reply. No hollow ‘you’ll get there’ encouragement, no reminder that his strength would only grow with Cally’s blood. Her lack of response said it all: the gap was too big.
“Maybe I should go away for a while,” he mused. “Come back in a few years when I have more power.”
“A long time to live obsessed with revenge, mon amour.”
She was right. It wasn’t the passing of years; that meant nothing to vampires. It was that he knew it would fill his every waking moment, and that was hardly fair on Cally.
“Why don’t you kill him?” he asked.
“Would you have me do so?”
“Would you, if I said yes?”
Belle was quiet for four beats of the windshield wipers.
“For you, I would. But I don’t think you want me to.
It would not sate your vengeance; the Curia would not look kindly upon it; and no vampire in Boston would ever forget.
We would end up being outcasts together, romantic though that idea is. ”
He hadn’t intended to ask her to; he simply wanted to know how she’d answer, and it had surprised him.
Had she changed so much since coming here? No… vampires were creatures stuck in their ways. She’d turned up at his house and called him ‘her pet’, and there had been nothing to suggest this side of her. Only when she’d spoken to Cally… met Eve… heard Noah question him.
Maybe she was capable of adapting, as she’d always advocated.
But then, she’d spent three centuries obsessing over him enough to set Cally into his path.
That was the true Belle; the rest of it was merely a performance.
How to know which was the real Belle: the one who offered her help and a house, or the one who wanted to manipulate him into returning to France?
Both of them, probably. She was complicated enough.
And he still hadn’t told Cally about her mother.
Even when she had apologized for lying about the Order, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to.
His own hypocrisy mixed with the bitterness of Roberto’s triumph, and Tobias’s smugness at hearing that Dedham would grow.
Milton too, which was ironic, with Nico trapped in an Order prison cell.
But of course Roberto would choose to reward the two vampires that had helped entomb him. It was an added insult.
Belle pulled up outside his house, and pushed the gearstick into park. “You have a week, mon amour. It is not long.”
“Any suggestions?”
She gave her brief Gallic shrug. “Other than offering you my house, not really, no.”
“There must be land around here that no vampire has claimed. Something on the outskirts of a territory, away from it all, in the peace and quiet.”
“Is that what you want?”
Maybe, before he’d met Cally, the idea would’ve appealed. Hell, it still did—more, if anything, as he wouldn’t need to hunt to feed. But that was before he’d been entombed. Before they’d threatened her, and tried to claim her as theirs. Just like Darian. And he was dead.
“No,” he said coldly. “What I want is to kill Roberto and Tobias, and reclaim my territory.”
Belle nodded, as if she’d expected nothing less. “You have my number. Call me when you are ready.”
“Oui.” He paused with one hand on the door handle. “Thank you. Again.”
“D’accord.”
He chuckled. The French had slipped out, as it had a habit of doing when his mind was preoccupied, and her response had been dry. “Au revoir.”
“à bient?t, mon amour.”
See you soon, yes. Maybe. And still she called him ‘my love’. Did she love him? Truly?
Did it matter?
He vaulted the fence because it was faster, and let himself in through the front door. The house was quiet.
He linked with Noah. “All okay?”
“All fine. Cally is still up. She’s been in her room with Eve since you left. How was Roberto?”
“Still obnoxious.” Antoine took the stairs. “I need you to reach out to all our thralls and pull them back to here.” He switched to speaking as soon as Noah was in range. It felt more personal; less like he was controlling a thrall, more like talking to a friend.
“All of them?” Noah sat on his chair outside Cally’s room, where he’d spent so many hours over the past weeks.
“Every single one.”
“Sure.” Noah gave him a puzzled look. “When?”
“Now, if you don’t mind.”
“Uh, right.” He rose, fishing his phone from his pocket as he walked down the hall, and Antoine knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Cally called from the other side.
She lay on the bed in jeans and a half-rumpled blouse with bare feet, Eve in the chair nearby, both of them with the Order’s books open before them. “Working late,” he said. “Have you found anything useful?”
“That depends on how good your Gaeilge is,” Eve replied, not bothering to look up as she turned a page.
Antoine hesitated. “Non-existent, I’m afraid.”
“That’s okay.” Cally smiled as she rose to come to him. “Google Translate is doing most of the heavy lifting.”
He pulled her into his arms; she pressed herself against him. If there was resentment from their earlier argument in the study, there was no sign of it. “I’m sorry,” he said anyway. “I should’ve told you about my plans.”
“Yes, you should,” Eve commented from her chair.
Cally rolled her eyes at her. “Shall we go into our room, or can you eavesdrop without interjecting?”
Eve mimed zipping her lips, still focused on the book on her lap.
Cally pushed her hand against his chest. “She’s right though. You should have.”
“While we’re working on our sharing,” he said slowly, “there’s more.”
“I’m all ears,” she replied. “It can’t be any worse than what I didn’t tell you.”
Eve’s hand braced at her brow, as though the gesture would hide her, and her neck and ears tinged pink.
Antoine gave her an indulgent look, entertained. “She knew, I take it?”
“Oh yeah,” Cally said. “Every detail.”
“I’m not the one who’s been keeping secrets,” Eve muttered to her book. “I suggested you should tell him.”
“You did not, you little liar.”
“Cally.” Antoine cut through the banter with a serious tone, then reached for her hand. “Roberto summoned me tonight.”
“I know,” she said softly. “Noah told me. I would’ve driven after you if Belle hadn’t been with you.”
“She’s been shitting a brick,” Eve added. “Asking Noah every five minutes if he could sense you back in range yet.”
Cally spun toward her. “One more word out of you—!”
Eve raised her hands in placation, finally looking up from her book. “Making like a shadow, just forget I’m here.”
“We were trying to!” Cally let out a breath, glanced toward the door like she regretted suggesting they stayed, then gave him an apologetic smile. “So what happened tonight?”
“Well, he tried to claim you by virtue of some ancient vampiric custom, but Belle stopped him.”
“Did he now?” She clenched her jaw. “When are you killing him again?”
“Soon, ma chérie. I promise.”
“Is that it?” She searched his face. “There’s more, isn’t there? He didn’t stop there, did he?”
“No. My refusal gave him the excuse he needed to strip my territory and make me an outcast.” He sighed. “I have seven days to leave my territory, and…” He spread his hands. “I am afraid we may not have anywhere to live for much longer.”
“Well that’s not a problem.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ll kill him and take his house, instead. It’s bigger, too.”
Antoine’s lips twitched. “It may not be so easy, but I do like the idea.”
“We can accomplish anything, if we do it together,” she said, deliberately stressing the last word.
“I stand chastised, mon amour. You are, as always, quite correct.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t telling you off, Antoine. I only want to be included.”
“And you will be.”
She nodded. “Is that all of it?”
He hesitated. “No. There is more, and it may be difficult for you to hear.”
“Which part of our relationship has been easy?” she said lightly, but the tightening around her eyes belied her tension.
“I… have news of your mother.”
Cally blinked. “What?”
“What?” Eve echoed, then quickly looked down at her book with a muttered ‘sorry’.
“I have reason to believe it was not Nico who attacked her.”
“I knew that,” Cally said slowly. “He told me at the Order’s house—he only likes boys. And he was convincing.”
“I wasn’t aware,” Antoine said. “Still, I think I know who did attack her. The only saving grace is that the attacker did not intend to kill her. I’m not even sure she realized what she’d done.”
“She?” Cally fixed on the word, her eyes flickering in realization. “Belle?”
“Just so,” he said grimly, ready for Cally to go for the door and hunt her down.
But she didn’t. Instead, she turned from him and stepped toward the bed, gripping her arms. “Why?”
The single word cut through the quiet, and Eve looked between the two of them, barely breathing.
“She was trying to awaken witch blood. It wasn’t just your mother, it wasn’t an isolated… incident.”
“But she killed my mother.”
“I am sorry, ma chérie. Sorrier than you will ever know.”
“You’re not to blame,” Cally said, her tone belying her words.
“It’s not a coincidence, is it?” Eve said, drawing their attention. She looked at Antoine. “She’s your sire.” Her gaze turned to Cally. “She bit your mother. And somehow, twenty-five years later, you find each other.”
Cally hugged herself. “Is she right?” she asked. “Was this… targeted?”
Antoine swallowed, the sudden coldness in her tone stabbing at his heart. He spoke slowly and clearly, even though every word hurt to say. “It is exactly as Eve has said. She hoped that I would find one of the children whose mothers she had bitten.”
“Why?” Cally shook her head, raising a hand. “No, don’t tell me,” she added, her voice turning bitter. “She wanted you to bond with a witch.”
“I am sorry, ma chérie.”
“Don’t call me that again,” Cally snapped. “I’m only here because… My mother…” Tears filled her eyes, and she turned away.
Antoine bowed his head. “There is no more news, nothing else I have not told you.”
There was no reaction from Cally, but he hadn’t expected one. Eve watched him leave, fingertips pressed to her lips and eyes heavy with sadness. But no sympathy could undo the hurt of the message he had needed to deliver.
He closed their door quietly behind him, then walked alone to his own room, never feeling more the outcast than in that moment.