Chapter Thirteen
Darius
Briar Hollow.
From the top floor of the office building we just leased, the river view is unobstructed. It's dawning and the first rays turn it red. Like an opened vein. Or a wine offering.
Mortals think rivers don't change. Even most immortals never watch long enough to notice how they do.
The rhythm is easier to see in trees. Buds swell. Bark breathes. Spring rehearses the same miracle every year.
Nature moves, indifferent. Life and death. One may have centuries, decades or hours. In the end, she makes no distinction.
"Injuries," Darlene reports from the far side of the table. "Some grave. Johnny's hit bad. No deaths."
Her voice holds venom and pain. She's guarding her side. That axe wasn't ordinary metal. Valkyrie-forged, runes set deep. She'll feel it for a while.
"It was the wildbane," she adds. "And the damn barrier. We didn't expect them to be this prepared that quickly."
I don't look back. The river keeps its counsel.
"What do you want to do, Darius? We can regroup and hit them again by tomorrow morning. Tonight, if we—"
"No." One word. It's enough. She goes quiet.
I turn to Ruaidhrí. He's in a chair, laptop balanced on his knees, chassis bent at one corner and a blood stain he hasn't bothered to wipe. Salvaged from the skirmish, then. Interesting priorities.
"I want the town's mayor," I say.
Fingers flick. Keys answer. "Harlan Bright.
Third term. Wife, Lydia. Daughter, Donna Bright.
Runs with the crew. Vampire. If she's still in the family picture, the elder Bright knows about the weird and the uncanny and signs off on what's happening here.
" He doesn't just give me data. He gives me a vector. "That could be an obstacle."
I nod. A vampire daughter who still comes home for dinner. This enclave is strange.
"Third term," I repeat, weighing it. Ambition wants legacy, not a headline.
"Pull the town's financials. Grant streams, state and federal.
Corporate contracts, capital projects, PAC money, any future 'vision' he's sold to donors.
" The river's red fades to gold. "I want choke points.
If I squeeze, do votes or vision squeal first? "
Darlene leans forward, palms flat against the table. "You mean to stay here?" Her voice carries agitation and disbelief, as if my choice is betrayal in itself.
I incline my head once. "For the time being."
Her jaw tightens. "She betrayed you. Betrayed us all after everything we gave her. I told you, it started back with that vampire case a year ago. The cleaners found no ash. His nightstone bracelet was missing, never logged in the inventory. It was in her hands last."
She doesn't speak Sage's name. Not since the day she left. Months we searched, thinking at first she'd been taken. Hope turned to truth, and truth was hard to swallow.
I let her spill her venom.
"And not only did she spare this bastard's life, she married him. Both of them. Vampires. She's beyond saving, Darius. And she's already squandered our resources, kept us from our actual mission too long—"
I narrow my eyes a fraction. I look at her, long and unblinking. Silence pours into the room like water filling a grave.
She folds first, leaning back, her words withering in her throat. Even Ruaidhrí shifts uneasily, his fingers pausing over the keys.
They are immortal, yes, but not ancient. They fear silence. Especially mine.
Only when enough weight has settled do I answer. "Sage will return willingly when every other path is gone."
"How about the wedding plans? Spring Equinox?" Ruaidhrí asks.
"There will be another one next year. Just like every year," I tell them. "Nature is cyclical, and all you need to achieve any goal is patience."
Darlene's lips part as if to argue, but she swallows it.
A knock comes. Predictable. "Enter," I command.
Konstantin bends beneath the low doorframe, the great leshy forced small by architecture meant for mere mortal men.
"Report," I prompt. He is not one to waste words uninvited.
"A car. Found in the river. Three towns south." His voice is flat stone.
Ruaidhrí is already typing, keys clicking like insects.
"Any trace of your brothers?" I press.
"None." The word lands heavy. To the untrained ear, emotionless. But I know his kind. Leshy bind to kin as deeply as root to soil. Piotr and Miroslav's absence is a wound. Konstantin has scoured every bend of Maine's rivers for them.
Ruaidhrí doesn't look up. "No mention of bridge collapses. No repairs reported. Radius clear. Can't be sure without the drop point, but odds are low this was an accident."
Konstantin cuts him a glance, unimpressed. "I knew without the laptop."
"You suspected," Ruaidhrí retorts, his voice sharp. "Now you know. That's the difference. I hunt evidence, not ghosts."
"What more proof do you need?" Darlene snaps. "It's the vampires. I'm sure they killed the leshy brothers."
She may be right. But the story is jagged, its edges unaligned. A gap remains between Sage's flight and her fall into the arms of vampires. One of them she had tricked, yet would not allow to die.
I will close that gap. I will know why.
"Continue the search," I tell Konstantin. "Sweep the woods. Especially around their estate."
He bows his head once and withdraws.
"If we strike quickly, we keep them off balance—" Darlene tries, her tone feigning patience, her fury bleeding through.
"No." The word cuts her short. "There will be no attacks. No killing, unless in defense. Not yet. I want to watch. To learn. Then take this strange little kingdom apart, piece by piece."
My gaze settles on Ruaidhrí. "Arrange a meeting with the mayor." He nods, already calculating vectors.
I turn to Darlene. "Our environmental trial, the one meant for a small town. We move the timeline forward, establish it here. Work above, while other matters unfold beneath."
She narrows her eyes. "And you think Briar Hollow is ready for such a project?"
I face the window again. The river coils red, forests sprawling like an endless tide. My lips curve, the faintest of smiles.
"No," I murmur. "Briar Hollow is not ready for what's coming."