Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
The hot bath was like drinking the richest cocoa and having a heated blanket wrapped around him. With Takashi’s help, Zack was able to scrub off the last of the dirt. By the time he climbed out of the tub, he swore he had a slight blush of pink in his skin tone. However, that faded from one blink to the next, and he was porcelain white once more.
As he dressed in a black suit, he catalogued some of the other changes to his body. Though he’d always been dexterous, he navigated changing into clothes with a bit more ease. Somewhere along the line, he’d lost a trace of his weight—Zack was willing to bet it’d been water—and his abs weren’t super defined, but his muscles were a fraction more obvious. His tattoo was gone from his hip as if it’d never been there.
The wounds and light scars he’d gained during his time with Roger and Takashi were healed to nothing, except for the first one that Roger had given him. Takashi had stroked it during the course of the bath, and Zack touched his skin to feel the ever-so-slight scar tissue. Somehow, still having it was reassuring. That mark belonged to him . That moment was his first real step toward becoming this , and this? Maybe this wasn’t so bad.
“For studying me so much, Seamus put way too much black into my wardrobe.” Zack buttoned his cuffs.
Takashi was going through the cases on the top of the dresser. Then he brandished one, holding out a box of cufflinks for display. “It’s custom among young vampires, especially ones with sires of means.”
“Is the goal to make us more badass?” Zack asked.
“To hide the blood. Drinking without getting it everywhere is an art.”
“Oh.” Zack swallowed the guilt about feeding on the girl in the graveyard. Her blood had gotten on his mouth, but had he been sprayed with it? He’d been too caught up in his own shit to notice. Just like he was letting that void come for him now. Focus . Some of the cufflinks had gems; some were made of gold or platinum. One set was like the crest on his coffin. He picked one up and showed it to Takashi. “You ever know of a newborn vamp with a crest before?”
“Some of the old ones still do that for their young,” Takashi said. He raised an eyebrow. “Is that yours?”
“It’s on a coffin in that room over there.” Zack motioned to the coffin’s closet. “Weapons are a sign of weakness, aren’t they? Among vampires, I mean.”
“Ah, no.” Takashi took the matching one out and set the case down. He slid it into Zack’s cuff and fastened it. “This means you were a hunter in life.”
“Not a lot of hunters become vampires, I guess,” Zack said quietly.
“Not really.”
“Should I be wearing these?” Zack put the other one in his right cuff.
“We are stuck in Seamus’s game. What we need right now is influence and knowledge,” Takashi said. “If he’s giving you tools and prestige, use them.”
“And the more I suck up the attention, the better off you’ll be?” Zack asked.
Takashi shook his head. “I doubt we’ll get much reprieve, particularly in public. They’ll be watching us, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find advantages.”
Zack pulled Takashi close to him and rested his forehead against his. The habit was one of Roger’s, he realized, but he gained a sense of calm from sensing the little pop-ups from Takashi’s emotions. Just a small fear, just a tiny desire. Nothing that Zack wanted to investigate, but knowing they were there settled his own fears. Whatever happened next, he wasn’t alone.
“Guess we should get down there,” Zack muttered.
Takashi took his hand and squeezed him tight. “If we’re useful?—”
“Then he won’t get rid of us.” Zack groaned. “I don’t like the idea of making myself useful to a monster.”
“We’re biding time to make a plan.”
“That’s what we were doing.”
Takashi cupped Zack’s cheek. “We were waiting for Roger before. You’re not a piece needing instruction anymore, Zack. You’re a player at the board.”
I have power . Zack nodded. “Right. Okay then. Let’s go see what my ‘father’ wants.”
Grimsby was waiting out in the hall for them, and without a word, he led them through the mansion to the first floor. The interior of the mansion was a labyrinth with room upon room of stuff. Zack was pretty sure they passed at least two libraries, some kind of art gallery, three different sitting rooms, and a multimedia room with the biggest screen he’d seen short of a movie theater.
Zack could pick out a multitude of tiny sounds—a distant heartbeat here, a soft footfall down that corridor—but the quiet was oppressive. Each sound felt like it was breaking an unspoken sanctity. No, it’s like prey not wanting to be noticed .
Voices drifted from farther down the hall, and they lacked the trepidation of the mansion’s other sounds. The knowing in the back of Zack’s mind easily found Seamus’s voice when they were still too far for him to make out words. He was walking ever closer toward the magnet pulling on his soul. The hunger churning in his gut settled into an annoying itch rather than a burning heat. Without it clouding his focus, data was clicking into place. He was picking up more details with his heightened senses—from the brushstrokes in various paintings to the exact stench a group of vampires made.
Somehow, being near my sire makes me stronger? My vampiric magic must be missing its source. Two halves of a whole until we heal .
I knew you were clever , the Seamus voice said.
Zack frowned and put a hand to his temple. That had been a little … eerie. But imagining the other half of conversations was something he often did, especially with people he hated. I don’t hate Cal .
Yes. You do , his rational voice replied.
Whatever. I’m about to walk into a hunter’s worst nightmare, so this will wait . Zack lowered his hand and continued walking. Takashi was a half step behind him, but when Zack tried to match him, he fell back again. Zack glanced over his shoulder, a question on his lips. Takashi shook his head and mouthed, “Trust me.”
Grimsby stopped beside an archway. He bowed his head and motioned into the room.
“Thank you,” Zack said softly.
Grimsby dipped his head a touch farther, which Zack guessed was supposed to be some sort of “you’re welcome.”
Then Zack took a big, unnecessary breath and strode into the room.
One of Zack’s favorite rooms at his grandparents’ house had been the War Room, where the Wrights, and to some extent the Gladwells and other hunters, organized bigger hunts and operations. When the room wasn’t hosting a meeting, Grandpa used it to track hunters and their targets on maps. Even though a lot of things went digital, he persisted in using physical maps. He claimed he’d seen enough of those CSI shows to know that some sort of digital thing could be dug out fifty different ways, but a destroyed paper map was always unintelligible. If they haven’t burned the most recent set of maps and reorganized the hunters, they will when they find out about me .
Seamus’s War Room had a long dark wood table down the center. The ten vampires sitting at it were all on one side, and across from them on the wall was a bank of monitors. There were twenty screens in total, and only two of them were blank. A different person was projected onto each of the remaining eighteen. One vampire was complaining, “If my peer in Champaign would keep her werewolves from terrorizing my campus?—”
“I hardly call Eastern a campus ,” another vampire on-screen said, snorting in derision.
The first straightened. “This disrespect is exactly what I mean! My alliance with the Whetstone Creek Panthers is contingent upon keeping werewolves from the university. She’s letting them infect students in my territory!”
The second rolled her eyes. “The number of canyons you had to jump in order to reach that conclusion is staggering and, honestly, a bit insulting. The pack in Decatur could just as easily be infecting your precious students.”
“No, they couldn’t,” Zack said automatically.
All attention turned toward him. The vampires on the screens were suddenly looking down at their keyboards and fussing—they had to be adjusting their views on the room.
The sheer amount of power in the room became abundantly clear. Not only was Seamus sitting at the center of the table, but he had Anton on his right and Candide on his left. The other seven vampires in the room were ones that Zack recognized from his research on the coven leadership. The remaining captains—Lucille and Dempsey—were also present. The other vampires were lieutenants, among them Marcus and Xenofon, and were more directly in charge of sets of vampire or territory than the captains were. Which meant the ones on the screens were lieutenants in the rest of Seamus’s huge domain.
And I just corrected someone . Panic started to set in. With that, the realization that everyone in the room would be able to feel his fear. His spiral started to spin and descend faster. Little pop-ups of others’ emotions began to crowd his mental real estate. Malicious desires left vague impressions, but he got the sense that several people in the room wanted him to fail.
Then Takashi put his hand gently on his back, and Zack could pick out his pop-up from the rest. He longed for something good to happen, for Zack to shine.
I can do this . Zack continued. “The Decatur Pack are natural-born shifters, and there’s never been a case of contracted lycanthropy associated with their pack. In fact, they see their wolf form as an aspect of their true selves and reject ‘infected’ wolves on the assumption that everyone who gains lycanthropy winds up seeing it as a separate beast rather than accepting it into themselves. They’re kind of dogmatic assholes. They wouldn’t work on spreading their strain of werewolf except through having more kids.”
The silence in the room suddenly matched the rest of the mansion. Zack was standing in the heart of the damn predator’s nest with over two dozen monsters staring at him. Not monsters , the Seamus voice said. Peers. They’re your peers now .
“Who the hell is that?” the Champaign lieutenant demanded.
Seamus smiled with a subtle little pride. “That would be my new sireling and son, Zackery, the Blade in the Night.”
An epithet? Already? Though Zack could think at a quicker speed, the idea of it caught him off guard, and he failed to hide his surprise from the others. He loved the sound of the Blade in the Night. He felt dangerous with the moniker. But crests and epithets had to be earned, didn’t they? Yet Seamus was just dumping prestige onto him. Because if he’s going to claim me as his son, then I have to be special. Otherwise, he looks weak .
While the others were older, not all of them had perfectly schooled reactions. Zack saw flickers of surprise and anger flash across their faces.
A glint of pride shimmered in Seamus’s mottled red and blue eyes before he turned his attention back to the monitors before him. Xenofon schooled his features into an unreadable mask. Except for Marcus, no one else seemed to care that Zack was now in the room.
Marcus was a pasty vampire who was clearly trying too hard to look like a badass since he was dressed in black leathers. Everyone else at the meeting was dressed in more casual business fashion, including Anton. Marcus’s shoulder-length brown hair was styled a lot like Roger’s, though the color wasn’t nearly as interesting, and while his hazel eyes had a range of color, they seemed the most boring shade of green Zack had ever seen.
Focusing on him made finding his pop-ups in the mess recurring in Zack’s mind a little easier, but figuring out what he was reading from the other vampire was still a struggle. But then Marcus locked eyes with him, and it became clear.
He wants me dead . Zack lifted an eyebrow. Marcus was the vampire who ran Steward’s Garden, where he placed mind-controlling gray bands onto innocent mortals’ arms. Zack slid his hands into his pockets and imagined using his new abilities to rip Marcus into tiny pieces. And the reassuring thing was that he possessed that kind of power. Winning a fight wasn’t as theoretical as it had been. Blade in the Night. I can live up to that .
“Zackery is correct,” Seamus said with an authoritative note. “The Decatur Pack does not spread its lycanthropy. Furthermore, I’m inclined to believe that you’ve suggested to the Champaign wolves that they invade the territory.”
“Master, I haven’t?—”
“Dempsey?” Seamus said.
Dempsey, a vampire with deep brown skin and who looked absolutely bored in the proceedings, lifted a folder. His suit was a pale purple that reminded Zack of the fading sunlight just before twilight claimed the sky. “The Ardent Circle of Southern Illinois performed a divination for us on one of the newly turned wolves. A member of the Champaign Pack of the Woods was responsible.”
“That doesn’t mean that I —” Penelope began.
“You either have control of your wolves, or you’re letting them run wild. If they are wild, rein them in,” Seamus snapped. “We cannot afford for them to jeopardize other allegiances. Is that understood, Penelope?”
“Yes, master.”
“We have confirmation of four new wolves. You will pay Mathias four million dollars.”
“Master!”
Seamus slammed his hand on the table. “Complain again and I will grant Jordan’s request for consolidation and absolve you of your responsibilities. Potentially relieve you of more than that.”
Penelope looked down.
“Penelope will pay four million to Mathias. Mathias, you are to use that money to make amends with the Whetstone Pride. If I discover you’ve built another donor house with it, I will have it burnt to the ground.”
“I understand, master,” Mathias said.
“Let’s take a ten-minute break,” Seamus said. “At that point, we’ll begin with Benedict and Leopold. If the two of you are bickering over whether or not Indiana 39 is a terrible boundary again, I will take those beautiful twins from you.”
“I assure you, master, that’s not our concern,” one of the vamps on a monitor said.
“Good.” Seamus hit a button, and the screens went dark. He gestured at the archway. “Refreshments are across the hall, as usual.”
The others rose and bowed their head toward Seamus before moving toward the exit. Zack took a step out of their way, then realized that Seamus probably meant him to leave, too, and started to go after Candide.
“Not you, Zackery. We need to have a word,” Seamus said.
A sinking feeling dropped Zack’s confidence into his toes. Too many times in the past, he’d thought he’d given a right answer only for one of his elders to get upset that he’d interrupted them. Cal had been extremely dismissive of Zack’s knowledge. You don’t know what you’re doing, Zack. You haven’t been out in the field .
Takashi flashed Zack a quick, warm smile before leaving with the others.
Alone with his sire once more, Zack fought to keep his expression neutral. I have every right to be pissed at him. He fucking murdered me . He put his hands behind his back and clasped one with the other so he didn’t make a fist in plain sight.
“Was he a pleasant surprise?” Seamus asked without looking at Zack. Instead, he seemed more interested in his tablet.
Zack glanced at the archway. Voices carried in this tomb of a home, and he didn’t need anyone else learning his secrets and manipulating him. He closed the distance and sat in Anton’s seat so that he could drop his voice to its softest volume. “Fuck. You.”
Seamus raised an eyebrow. “You should be thanking me. I could have killed him.”
“I doubt you kept him around just for me,” Zack replied quickly. “I don’t know what your game is yet?—”
“I am not playing a game.” Seamus sighed heavily and set his tablet down. “Takashi is clever and handsome and makes a decent partner for you. You at least don’t mind his manipulations.”
Zack stiffened and was about to lash out, but Seamus wasn’t technically wrong. Takashi had exerted influence over his mind, and Zack had accepted it. “He was helping me.”
“You’ve come down before I anticipated. I thought you and Takashi would spend time reuniting.”
“I got distracted by the fact that you’ve been studying me,” Zack replied. “How long did that room take to set up? A month? Two?”
“A few of the better details weren’t in place after I obtained your journal and notes earlier this week,” Seamus said as he stood. “But I’ve been preparing for the last seven weeks.”
“You’ve been planning on turning me into a vampire?” Zack snarled.
Seamus caught him by the chin and held him tight, forcing their gazes to lock. The first time they’d met, he’d done something similar. Unlike then, Zack refused to feel anything other than rage for the monster in front of him. He was ready for whatever punishment that would bring.
Instead, Seamus broadened his smile and let his touch turn tender. “Do you know how many pets piss themselves when they meet me for the first time? Especially Roger’s pets? Though I could feel the brush of terror in your heart, you did not cave.” Seamus laughed. “You told me I might be disappointed in you! You were pouring your heart into killing me even then. While I admit that is a nuisance, I’ve overcome worse.”
Seamus released him and picked up his tablet. “I had hoped you’d wake last night so that your rising wouldn’t conflict with my meeting. I thought about postponing, but several of these matters have been piling up.”
“And you wanted me here to see what the leadership is like?” Zack asked carefully.
“You have a mind that connects details.” Seamus renewed his smile. “That fact about the Decatur Pack, for example. I’m not surprised that Roger didn’t know how to take advantage of your talent. He’s never had a head for making the tough calls.”
“Is that why he’s still alive?” Zack said. “You’re not scared of him?”
“He may yet be of use.” Seamus held up a hand when Zack opened his mouth to ask another question. “We only have a few minutes before the others return.” He raised his voice. “Grimsby, do bring her in.”
Zack frowned and was about to question Seamus anyway.
Then Grimsby strode into the room with a bound woman struggling in his arms. She was on her feet, but he was dragging her along. Her heart was pounding, and as Zack zeroed in on the sound, it thundered in his ears. She smelled … the closest Zack could pin it to was warm apple pie, cinnamon and apple and so fucking good. He wanted to dig his fangs into her throat and take that warmth from her. Wanted to know if she tasted as good as she smelled.
No. He clenched his fists. Biting would likely lead to killing. Especially around Seamus. The bastard wanted him to be a killer. To be just like him.
“You have to eat, Zackery,” Seamus said. “Denying your hunger instead of embracing it will only hurt you in the end.”
“I’m fine.” Zack couldn’t tear his eyes away from the woman’s neck. Her pulse wasn’t jumping in her neck until she planted her feet and tried to yank herself free of Grimsby. In doing so, she turned her head far enough that her neck was taut and her jugular rose in rhythm to her heart.
Seamus snapped his fingers in front of Zack’s nose.
Zack blinked and glared at Seamus.
“You’re proving my point.” Seamus stood. “Did you taste Takashi’s blood earlier?”
If Zack had had any color to his face, he was sure it would have drained away. “How did you know?”
“I felt your bloodlust.” Seamus approached the woman. He stepped around behind her and grabbed her by the hair. Using that grip and his other arm, he held her tight against him. “The blood drives us in our first nights. Don’t fault yourself for that. By indulging, you will figure out how to sate your needs and discover balance.”
“I don’t want to kill her,” Zack whispered. His voice was a hollow, distant thing, and he wished he could take those words back. Seamus would only use them against him.
Instead of any anger, Seamus remained patient, his tone and manner not changing from the calm, fatherly demeanor. “You were always meant to be a killer, Zackery. This isn’t a sacrifice of your nobility. If it helps ease your mind, she is despicable. What do they call them? TERDs?”
“TERFs,” Zack replied. “You’re lying. You don’t care about my conscience.”
“I don’t want you to suffer for the next several decades lamenting because you did what nature demanded in order to survive.” Seamus held the woman tighter when she suddenly bucked. He pressed his cheek against hers, and a wave of terror slipped out from her. She froze in place.
Zack could see the change and thought he smelled the difference in her fear. She wasn’t cinnamon anymore but salty. Salty, salty fries had been a delicious treat.
“Letting you run around biting everyone in sight worsens my reputation as well, you know,” Seamus said. “I didn’t parade you in front of the leadership only for you to embarrass me. I want you to learn control, but the only way to do that is to feed and accept that you may struggle to spare them at first.”
“Why are you so chill about this?” Zack asked.
“You mean, why aren’t I an asshole right now?” Seamus stepped back from the woman, and she remained where she was. “I told you, I understand why your impression of me is so abominable. I forgive you for that, but you should open your eyes and come to your own conclusions. You did about Roger.”
The situation couldn’t have been more different. Roger had bit him out of hunger and then broke off the fight in order to save Zack’s life. Everything that tumbled out afterward between them was two people growing closer. Seamus was trying to manufacture love and trust.
Zack longed for his dagger. He felt for its presence, but it wasn’t in the room. Seamus must have tucked it away in the mansion somewhere. Zack could only gain a general feel for the direction it was in.
And he was hungry. And Seamus had a point. Zack hadn’t learned how to stake a vampire in one go. It’d taken practice. Even babies have to learn how to eat .
“When I had a drop of Takashi’s blood, I started to go into a frenzy,” Zack admitted. “If I do that with her, you could stop me, couldn’t you?”
“Now you’re asking me to manipulate your emotions?” Seamus asked neutrally.
“Wouldn’t want to be an embarrassment.”
“I won’t let you attack anyone else. Now.” Seamus nodded at the woman. “Come take hold of her. You want to control her upper torso as much as her head. Our fangs are sharp. If she bucks or twists too much, you’ll cause more damage than you intend.”
Woodenly, Zack approached the woman. The part of him that had taken on a Cal voice was threatening to speak up, but Zack shoved it down. I’m a vampire. I’m hungry. All I can do is learn . She wasn’t fighting—whatever Seamus had done to her fear was still in place—so Zack had no trouble taking hold of her. He bared his fangs.
“Ah, ah,” Seamus said. “Not yet.”
Zack scowled at him.
Seamus shook his head and laughed gently. “You wanted to learn control. Across the room, control is easy. Don’t look so disappointed. We don’t have much time before the others are back, so I won’t make you wait long. You never want to bite the front of the neck. The angle is atrocious, but if you’re trying to spare them, then you don’t want to pierce their windpipe. You’ll be tempted to clamp onto the pulse throbbing in her neck. What throbs has blood pressure, and in the neck area, one wrong nick and your dinner is bleeding out in seconds. You want to consume from your bite, not lose it down the front of your shirt.”
Somehow, Seamus’s teaching tone helped settle the nerves climbing inside Zack. Just because he’s the bad guy doesn’t mean he’s wrong about everything. I mean, I haven’t met a more prolific killer. Except maybe Cal . Zack minutely nodded along to Seamus’s speech while waiting for his opportunity. Blood was right there for the taking, and he needed it.
“All right,” Seamus said. “Now you can bite her.”
Zack took an extra second to map out the different things Seamus had said to avoid. Then he sank his fangs into her. Blood welled as he closed his mouth around the wound. He swallowed the first mouthful. More was waiting for him. Each swallow brought the soothing liquid into him and smothered the burning hunger in him. The taste was too novel to put into words. Zack slipped from himself to that place between consciousness and bliss, just a half step from forgetting reality entirely.
You’ll kill her , the voice in his head said.
I’m. HUNGRY .
So he drank.
The taste of the blood changed, becoming bitter. Startled, Zack released her, and the woman crumbled to the floor.
She didn’t have a heartbeat anymore.
“Shit,” Zack said. He started to bend down toward her.
Seamus put his hand on Zack’s shoulder. With his other hand, he tipped Zack’s chin back up. When Zack started to move, Seamus put more weight into his grip. “Never apologize for doing what you need in order to thrive, Zackery. You are worthy of this life.”
The sentiment had to be a lie. Another manipulation. Seamus didn’t care about anyone other than himself. That was what Zack had heard over and over, and he’d seen it for himself. A few nice words and a room full of expensive shit didn’t change the fact that Seamus had beaten him to death’s doorway. He’d only offered Zack the chance to become a vampire because it suited him. Zack just had to figure out why .
And he had to ignore the seed in his heart that threatened to sprout. Seamus couldn’t be sincere. He was evil. Everything he was doing had to be an act. Zack had to match him and keep pace, or he’d drown.
But Zack wasn’t sure he was acting when he managed a smile at Seamus and murmured a warm “Thank you.”