Chapter 7

Seven

brAN

In 1737, a strain of flu found its way through Aquitaine, and Damien was the only one to fall ill to it in our household.

There is something unsettling about seeing your older brother slowly dying in his bed, a certain helplessness at not knowing how to fix it.

As much as Damien and I war against each other, we have always stood solidly at each other’s backs when it mattered most.

He is my best friend, and he is the only true thing that remains of who I was when I was human.

Damien is awake and something is wrong.

I will burn the Renshaw House to the ground for what they’ve done, just as soon as I know what it is they did.

When I burst into Damien’s bedroom, the door slams against the wall. Bianca is at his bedside, her hands hovering over his prone body. Jimmy is at the foot watching carefully, her arms crossed over her chest.

Sky is there too and I have to bury the urge to snap her neck and toss her out with the trash. I suspect Sky might be the new weak link in Duval House. How else did the Renshaw witches get through our defenses and take Kelly captive?

But I’ll deal with her later.

“Get her out of here,” I say to no one in particular.

“Me?” Sky says. “I’m Damien’s assistant. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

I snap my fingers at the two vampires who’ve been put on guard and the big guy takes Sky by the arm.

“Bran!” She tries to yank out of the big guy’s grip, but his fingers are like a vise and I can hear Sky’s bones crack. “What the fuck, Bran?”

I go to Bianca’s side. “I thought he was awake?”

“He was,” Jimmy says.

“So?” I’m impatient for answers.

I was the only one who visited Damien when he was sick all those years ago, the only one willing to risk their life to see him.

I remember the smell, the burn of the tallow candles and incense to drive away the scent of death.

But I remember the rattle of his chest the most.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he’d said to me when I brought him a fresh bottle of brandy.

“And you shouldn’t be in this fucking bed.”

He’d snorted, then dissolved into a coughing fit. I’d poured him some brandy and helped him drink.

“You need to keep yourself healthy,” he’d said. “Someone will need to care for mother and sister when I’m gone.”

“You will when you live.”

Damien hadn’t believed me then and if I’m honest, I hadn’t believed me either.

There’d been dark circles around his watery, bloodshot eyes. His lips had been cracked and bleeding. He’d looked so pale, so weak.

But somehow, he’d pulled through.

I was convinced then that my brother was invincible.

Except right now, I am reminded all over again of those long nights in our house in France. I am reminded of feeling helpless.

Bianca pulls her hands away. “He seems to be going from consciousness to unconsciousness, and when he’s awake he?—”

Suddenly Damien lurches upright, and Bianca yelps and steps back.

Now I see what they mean.

Something is wrong.

Damien’s eyes are open but they’re pure white.

“Brother?” I say.

He’s sitting rigidly, hands limp at his sides. Though he has no pupils, it looks like he’s gazing straight ahead.

I snap my fingers in front of his face. He fucking hates that.

“Damien.”

Nothing.

“Has he responded to anything yet?” I ask.

“No,” Jimmy says. “It’s just this.” She nods at him in bed. “He’ll sit up. Do nothing. Saying nothing. Then he’ll collapse again.”

“What does this mean?”

Bianca rakes her teeth over her bottom lip. “I’ll be honest, this is new to me. No witch I’ve worked with has ever mentioned anything like this.”

Damien hasn’t moved yet, nor has he blinked. I’ve seen a lot of fucked up weird shit in my day, but this has even my skin crawling. “Okay. So, how do we figure out what it means?”

“You should tell him what you felt,” Jimmy says to Bianca. “He needs to know everything.”

The scowl I turn on Bianca could singe hair. “Do not make me ask questions, witch. I need details. Now .”

“Sorry.” She swallows audibly. “When I hold my hands out like this” —she repositions over Damien— “I feel something I’ve only felt once before, when I played with magic I wasn’t supposed to play with.”

There is a sinking weight in my gut. “Go on.”

“Dark magic.”

This isn’t unexpected. “Which means?—”

“It means…” She gnaws at her lip again and then yanks her hands back as if something bit her. “We all know and can agree that the fae realm exists, right?”

“Yes,” I answer, growing more impatient by the second.

“Witches are always taught that magic—all magic, including witches and vampires and shifters—originated in the fae realm, that over the millennium, we’ve evolved to become what we are, which means…if this is magic not from this realm, it’s…”

“From the fae realm,” I guess and she nods.

I turn away and scrub at my face as my heart races in my ears. I need a drink.

No , I need my fucking brother.

Damien was always the one who solved problems. I was just along for the joy ride.

With my back to them, I ask, “How would the Renshaw witches tap into fae magic if the gate is closed?”

“The gate may be closed,” Bianca says, “but there are currents to tap. It’s not an impossibility.”

“And how would a person undo that magic?”

There is silence and it hangs heavy.

I turn to them just as my brother drops to the bed and a puff of air escapes his pillow as the feathers resettle beneath his head. Damien refuses to use anything other than feathered pillows. It reminds him of home. I know it does even though he won’t admit it.

Bianca licks her lips and takes a deep breath. “The Renshaw witches could undo it, but if they won’t or are unwilling…you’d…I mean…the origin …”

“Spit it out, witch.”

“You’d have to open the gate and get Damien to the fae realm.”

The Alpha answers on the second ring. “I’m busy,” he says.

“And yet you answered.”

He growls through the phone. “What do you want now, Duval? I’m not your personal errand boy.”

“No, but everything we do from here on out affects us both.”

I’m moving through the house, the phone clutched to my ear. I can hear Jimmy not far off, telling Mouse the abbreviated version of what’s transpired and the news that I’m leaving. The sun will be up within the hour.

“What did the Guard do with those who were trapped inside the Pledge Hall?” I ask.

The Alpha is silent for a beat. I can hear the sound of clothing rasping against skin on the other end, then a door creaking open. “Why do you think I know anything about it?”

“Stop fucking around. Everyone in Midnight knows you control the Guard.”

He grumbles again. “It’s in moments like these that I hope my psychic misread her prediction.”

I rush down the front steps of Duval House and down the driveway. “Hurry, shifter.”

“The spell broke eventually. Whatever Jessie did, the effects faded. The Renshaws were already gone by the time the Guard got there. The humans took longer to come out of it. They were the only ones left by then and all of their memories were wiped.”

“Thanks.” I pull the phone away to disconnect, but the Alpha stops me.

“Wait. What stupid shit are you planning now? You going to murder the entire Renshaw House?”

“Don’t be silly. Torture first. Answers second. Then murder.”

“By yourself?”

“Careful, Alpha,” I say as I near the end of the driveway. “Keep talking like that and someone will think you care what happens to a leader of a rival house.”

“Put eight on the perimeter,” he says to someone beyond the phone. “Two on each entrance.”

“Where are you going?” Fox asks.

“Trying to prevent a massacre,” the Alpha says as I hear the shift of the wind in the phone.

“I don’t need your help,” I tell him.

“What do you think your brother will say when he wakes up and realizes you’re dead because of some stupid revenge mission?”

Beyond the pines, the sky is starting to brighten. Really, it’s the perfect time to infiltrate a witch house. They’ll never expect a vampire to be out this late.

“I’m meeting you there,” the Alpha says.

“To stop me or to help me?”

“Aren’t those the same thing?”

“Don’t make me fight you too.”

“Fine. To help you, you fucking idiot.”

“You flatter me, Alpha.”

He laughs.

“How long will it take you?” I ask him.

“Less than ten.”

“Make it five.”

“I can’t run that fa—” I hang up, slide the phone into my pocket, and start running.