Chapter 25
Time had a way a flowing when things were unremarkable.
For all the fuss of that one week—Dimitri, the vilebloods, and then the leshy—everything went back to quiet winter days and long silent nights. Trains came and went, nothing interesting in or out. Rina warmed back to her typical chilly exterior toward both him and Audrey. Audrey made extra cookies and introduced the settlement to hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows. Lyubava grew so round, she didn’t leave the den at all anymore.
Gunnar kept to his parcel in the north. Mateo and Tomas expanded their patrol areas to the eastern side. They’d cross paths for the all hands and on train days, little in between, which was just fine by him.
Audrey came around, things between them back to the comfortable Gunnar enjoyed—no, depended on. His interactions with her were the best part of his days. He didn’t burn the apology note Mateo left the morning after he’d pissed her off; that probably helped.
He kept on quota, his newer, extended parcel shouldered up to the leshy’s area. Went through it once to examine the promised road, which was easy to follow and hazard free. He’d yet to see the leshy again but always felt those eyes whenever he skirted the line or needed to pass through.
Zhadan made Rina redraw his quota lines so he’d never have to be anywhere near the leshy.
The chuchuna was half losing his mind at this point, his mate set to burst any day now. Gunnar ran him ragged as much as he could, hoping he’d sleep during the days instead of getting thrown out of his den for pacing like a madman. Gunnar was getting sick of the wet fur smell in his cabin every other day, but Audrey always invited him in and soothed him with cookies.
Audrey’s library had expanded since the incident with the leshy. She wrote up more than a few dossiers for Rina on other creatures they might encounter as they continued expanding. Rina took the information without discussion, but it seemed to work for them. Might avoid Audrey getting in the shits with Rina again anytime soon.
The only new information of note came at the last all hands two days ago.
Celaeno ran scouting sweeps during the days, and she’d been turning up mutilated beast corpses at the settlement’s far edges. Nothing stood out in terms of a pattern, so they’d all agreed to keep an eye out while the harpy kept tracking the oddities.
As Gunnar poured his coffee, Audrey closed her book.
She’d woken up a few hours earlier than him this morning. It was a long night running the entire perimeter of both his and Zhadan’s parcels, an extra check for anything strange. He’d come up dry, again. No mutilated bodies, no odd smells or traces, nothing out of the ordinary. Normally, he woke sooner than her regardless, only needing about four hours of sleep to her eight on any given night.
“Almost everything from local mythos really enjoys drowning things,” Audrey said with a grimace.
“Probably from all the flooding in spring,” Gunnar said. “The temperature swings between seasons are pretty intense.”
“Hmmm.” She rested a chin on her hand, lips pursed. “Nothing fits with what Celaeno is seeing. I’ve been over all my books twice now.”
“Rina’ll appreciate that.”
Audrey smiled, shrugged a bit. “I’m glad to stay busy. But it really could be anything. Aperiens travel everywhere. And when you consider hybrids and dusters? It’s been more than 200 years since the Aperien Event. There’s really no end to what might have wandered into this region.”
“She hasn’t seen anything in the north. That seems to be the only consistency.”
“Zhadan is still worried?”
Gunnar finished his cup, headed to the stove to refill his mug. “He’s on edge, but that’s more to do with Lyubava.” He poured his coffee and grabbed more hot water for Audrey’s tea.
“She thinks it could be as soon as next week.”
“You plan on helping her out?” He sat down, the chair creaking as he leaned back and canted his head toward her bookshelves. “Saw your new ones. Anatomy and midwifery?”
“I think she’ll let me?” Audrey worried her bottom lip. “Amma Hertha offered her services since she’s delivered all the grandchildren in the Clan, but the berserkers and the chuchunas don’t seem to get on very well.”
“Hm.”
“You may need to help too.”
Gunnar sputtered into his hot coffee, then cursed and rubbed his mouth on his sleeve. “What now?”
Audrey laughed. “You might need to distract Zhadan so Lyubava doesn’t murder him.”
“Hm.”
Audrey refilled her tea, adding too much honey in his opinion, her chin still resting on her hand. Content, he recognized. None of them were too worried about whatever might be creeping on their borders, despite Audrey’s preemptive research.
He tapped his foot a few times. “Quota is already done for the week.”
“That’s early, even for you.” She flashed him another bright smile.
“Means the rest is profit. Maybe Zhadan and I can scare up another dragon.”
“Zm,” she corrected him, exactly why he’d said it wrong, but her smile dropped as she started clearing the table.
“Even if we don’t, we’ll have plenty of excess trade built up in another month or two.” Then they could deal with their housing situation, see about getting her a nice set up in the station.
“Hm,” was all she offered, drying her hands on the towel Aster had helped her embroider a few weeks back. “How are Tomas and Mateo settling in?”
Well, if she wanted to change the subject, that would do it. “Why, they bothering you?”
Audrey smirked at him, a real smirk. He narrowed his eyes, which made her roll hers. “I almost never see them. I was more curious if you’re still spying on them.”
“I observe, from time to time,” Gunnar said. “Like Rina told me to.”
“And in the last six weeks?”
Gunnar took a drink of his bitter black coffee. “They’ve kept their noses clean. Making their quotas, but nothing else. Lazy ain’t a crime, though.”
“Or maybe they deserve a little rest?” Audrey asked, closing up her books and shelving them in the proper order. “They were so worn down when they first got here.” She frowned, her busy work stalling. “Not as bad as you when Warden Kushiel brought you up that first day.”
Gunnar stood then, draining his mug. “No need to dive down those memories.”
She shivered despite the cabin being plenty warm, rubbing her arms. “I know.”
He hated her getting all sad remembering how shit off he’d been. Hated the way her scent dimmed, clouded by memories of him, by memories of the ESC. Memories of her apartment burned to ashes for helping him. Memories of her starving on the streets, almost dying before he’d found her.
He dumped his mug off in the sink, then went over so he could pinch her chin in his fingers, make her look at him. “That shit’s done and over with.”
“I try not to think about it, you know? It just happens sometimes.” She squeezed his forearm, her fingers warm. “I don’t know why it happens when it does. Quiet times like this? Everything is great. I don’t know . . . Why I would think about that when we’re happy?”
Gunnar caught her tears with his thumbs, then pulled her into his chest with one arm. She hugged him tight. He tried not to be casual in touching her, but sometimes she really needed it.
Sometimes . . . sometimes he needed it.
He indulged himself a bit, resting his chin on the top of her head, letting her warm, bright scent wash over him, still the best thing in his life even when she felt a little sad.
A little sniffle. “Thanks.”
He didn’t really have anything that needing doing just then, so they stood in the kitchen like that for a few minutes, the outside world snowy, brisk, and silent.
Audrey spent the rest of the morning baking. When she wasn’t feeling her best, she always tried to brighten others’ days. Gunnar settled on their worn-out couch and thumbed through a few books while she worked, knowing she needed the company although she’d never ask. By midafternoon, she’d exhausted her baking supplies, wrapped about six dozen cookies—snickerdoodle, a new recipe—and asked him to join her for a walk to the station.
Audrey disappeared into the station kitchen with Aster shortly after they arrived, because the cornflower wraith insisted on learning the new recipe after one bite. Turned out she really liked cinnamon.
Idle hands left Gunnar restless, and he realized he hadn’t been to see Virtue in a while. He didn’t have any urges at the moment, no more than normal, but he hadn’t checked in with them either.
Might as well make sure the vilebloods were still being polite, he decided as he headed down the hall to the brothel. Might be worth asking Virtue about Innocence as well, since the incubus was unusually bleak during their last encounter.
Gunnar ducked through the angel wings, finding both Virtue and Innocence seated in the lounge area. Innocence rested his head on his sister’s lap, her lithe fingers playing with his golden curls as she hummed what sounded like a lullaby. Eerie eyes cracked open at the swishing curtains, and Innocence blinked lazily up at him.
“Oh, look who deigns to grant us his presence,” the incubus slurred, waving a finger around in a circle.
“Still in a shit mood?” Gunnar asked.
Virtue laughed, patting Innocence on the forehead. He swatted her away, pouting. “Maybe.” Then he pointed at Gunnar. “You were supposed to be watching.”
Gunnar cocked a brow at Virtue, whose mirth faded, her expression a bit of a grimace. He sat down across from them, leaning back on the velvet couch. “More of a doer than a watcher.”
Innocence gave an inelegant snort.
Virtue went back to soothing him with a sigh. “He means Mateo and Tomas. We’ve been meaning to catch you. You,” she said as she gestured dismissively at him, “haven’t had need of me lately it seems.”
“Oh, ho, ho, has he finally slaked his thirst at the most elusive of wells?” Innocence grinned, his teeth tapered to points as he licked his lips.
Gunnar ignored him, the fucking idiot. “Been busy is all,” he said, which wasn’t really true. Things had been quiet, calm, and he hadn’t felt an urge strong enough to require attention. Apparently, quiet was good for him. Go figure.
But he wasn’t babysitting anymore, not like Rina wanted that first week, and he’d done his best to avoid the pair. They’d left Audrey alone, which had been good enough for him, but not if they started other trouble.
“What’s going on?” Gunnar swallowed a few times. He’d expected if a problem showed, it’d come from Mateo, not Tomas. “Are they, uh, acting like me?”
The stark shock that hit his nose, the blatant disbelief in both their scents, Gunnar didn’t understand. Innocence sat up, blinking at him with bleary eyes, and even Virtue seemed at a loss for words.
Then Innocence laughed, a single bark. “He’s bloody fucking serious, isn’t he?”
Teach him to show a bit of concern.
Virtue laid a hand on Innocence’s arm, but he slapped her away and stood. Virtue followed, and Gunnar did too.
“No,” Innocence said, shaking that pointy finger in Virtue’s face. “No, this pandering is relentlessly exhausting.” He wheeled on Gunnar. “You want to know if they’re like you, hmm? How so? If they can walk into the brothel and have a conversation? Hm? If they can leave without fucking?”
“Innocence.” Virtue’s tone carried warning.
“No. He’s a fucking idiot, and it’s tired, Virtue. I’m tired.” He waved a hand, flippant, and Gunnar snarled at him. Innocence clutched his chest, gasping. “Oh, so scary, because he’s a vileblood. You’re boring, Gunnar, that’s what you are. A drole, pathetic duster, using your blood as a crutch.”
“You want to say that again?” Gunnar growled, grabbing him by his silken robe.
“Yes. Again and again and again.” Innocence twisted free easily, his eyes gleaming, and not just from the alcohol. “What I wouldn’t fucking give to have the control you have. What I wouldn’t give to be able to turn down a fuck, to have a choice in my feeding. To have a life beyond my nature.
“You ask if they’re like you? Gunnar, they’re here every night, sometimes two or three times a day if their quotas are done. They can’t even walk in here without climbing one or both of us.”
Gunnar glanced at Virtue, who nodded. “They hurt either of you? We need to take care of this?”
“Still ignoring the actual conversation, how charming. I’ll be in my room.” Innocence sauntered down the hall, vanishing behind his curtains.
“The fuck is his problem?”
Virtue didn’t smile. “You’ve added to it, but you’re not the source by a mile. And their appetites aren’t a worry. I can handle a hungry vileblood.” She tsked. “But I became concerned a few days ago when Innocence questioned my time with you and Mateo. He wanted to know what was normal for vilebloods, because Tomas is becoming hungrier. Needier.” Virtue slumped down on the couch. “My brother cares for that boy, you know.”
Gunnar didn’t say a thing, tasting the worry in Virtue’s scent, briny and thick.
“Tomas has never come to me, only Innocence. I didn’t expect them to become so close, so quickly, if at all. Innocence has always been keen on keeping his feelings closed.” She sighed. “I joined them last night. Tomas tastes like the beginnings of madness.”
Shit. “Blood madness, yeah?” He rubbed his face, and grumbled, “Only a matter of time, huh.”
Virtue studied him for a moment, the succubus he’d learned a long time ago, clever as a whip. Observant, much more so than her brother. “Blood madness can happen in any duster. You know that. Any mixed blood has the chance to break away from humanity and lose the mind. I’ve seen angels weep for their children gone mad from beauty. Dragon whelps eat their own bodies. Siren spawn drown themselves to stop their own voices.
“Feeding on Tomas is stalling the problem, but I’m not sure how much longer. I planned to tell Rina tonight.”
Gunnar crossed his arms. “Why not kill him? I can take care of it in five minutes.”
Virtue turned from him but not fast enough to cover her frown. “Blood madness can be cured.” She drummed her nails on the side table, her gaze straying down the corridor, her scent laced with a sudden sorrow, bone and ages deep.
Shit. “It happened to your brother.”
“He doesn’t want to abandon them to the fate that almost took him. He wants to help Tomas until we can arrange for a blood mage, but he can’t. I won’t risk him going mad again for anything.”
“And you?”
“I have no human blood,” Virtue said, giving him a smirk, but her expression was dark. “But truly holding madness at bay for an extended time, that would require me to feed from him in ways I’ve abandoned. Ways we both did, to keep ourselves . . .” She stalled, considering Gunnar in a way he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. A small nod, as if deciding something. “Like you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “He bitches at me and now you’re circling back around.”
“Yes, because apparently you truly are willfully obtuse when it suits you.”
“Oh, you gonna enlighten me then, huh?”
“Do you want to be the monster, Gunnar? The rapist and murderer, hunting and bloody, tossing your seed far and wide as you end the human race?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Same as neither my brother nor I wish to be nothing but sex demons who feed so deeply we steal the souls from those we fuck. We are monsters by definition, designation, fate predetermined, yes? And yet we choose who we are. We choose to keep the dark where it needs to stay, the monster right at the edge, to protect that which we wish to see preserved. Things—people—better than we ourselves could ever dream to be.”
Gunnar swallowed; he really hated thinking of Audrey in any context when he was in this damn brothel.
“But we’re in control. Of our monsters, our demons, our blood, because we choose to be in control. I’ve never met a vileblood more balanced with their humanity than you, Gunnar. And these two men? They are nothing like you. Tomas will lose the fight for his humanity if he doesn’t receive proper care. Mateo, well, he might not be mad, but he has no aims to live a better life than required of him.”
“You want to help them? When it’s fucking up your brother like this?”
“Don’t use my brother to shield your desire to kill them for the smallest infraction because you worry about Audrey. I might not have your sense of smell, but I’m not a fool.”
Gunnar ground his molars.
“And what would Audrey desire, anyway? If I’m to guess, she’d want to help. Isn’t that the only reason they’re still here in the first place?”
“Rina’s in charge,” he deflected, but it was weak and he knew it.
“That she is.” Virtue stood. “And I’m requesting she help secure a blood mage and whatever else we need to see Tomas well.”
“And Mateo?”
“For now, he doesn’t matter, but if he started going blood mad? I’d help him too.”
“Be careful, Virtue,” Gunnar drawled as she headed down toward her brother’s room. “Mad or not, in control or not, vilebloods are always a risk.”
“We all are, Gunnar.”