Chapter 4

Four

brAN

I pace beneath the hardwood tree, the black tarp clutched tightly around my body. I’m trying not to let the fury sweep me away.

How fucking long does it take to drive to Bramwell from Duval House?

My phone says it’s only been nine minutes.

It feels like a fucking eternity.

Force her obedience , Baspin said.

I’m the only one who gets to force Mouse to do anything.

No one else.

The anger rises again and my teeth grind together, fangs sharpening in my mouth. I need blood. I need sleep. But I want none of it.

Not until I have Mouse back.

I’m going to kill them.

Kill them all.

Maybe not Baspin.

Definitely Arion.

Maybe the fucking brownie, depending on when I see him next and what kind of mood I’m in.

I hear the distant churn of an engine. There are no roads into the park, only pedestrian pathways, but I spot Damien’s SUV making quick work of the turf anyway.

I start toward the vehicle, and it pulls up alongside me.

The back driver’s side door opens, and I climb inside, tarp and all.

Once the door is shut behind me, the cooler darkness of the tinted windows allows me to breathe more easily.

I fight with the tarp, shoving it into the back with a loud, angry rustling.

“Bran.”

I glance over to find my brother in the opposite seat.

It really is him. He’s really alive and awake and speaking.

“You’re okay,” I say, even though he already assured me he was.

“Yes,” he answers. “Well… okay enough .”

I settle into the seat as the driver takes off. I know it’s King behind the wheel without checking. Beyond working in the house, he also maintains mine and Damien’s car collection, and King always smells like oranges, like the gritty hand soap made for mechanics to scrub the grease from their hands.

He says nothing as he tears through the grass of the park and gets us back on the road.

That’s my favorite thing about King—he knows when to keep his fucking mouth shut.

“How did this happen?” Damien asks and I have to be mindful not to wince. My brother’s tone is not accusatory, but I’ve known him long enough to know he will judge me for my errors. And why not? I got cocky. Reckless. And while I’m grateful to have my brother back, it was not something I wanted at the expense of Jessie.

“We were tricked,” I tell him instead, because it’s the truth. “I think they drugged the wine.”

“You drank fairy wine?”

Now he sounds like the judgy older brother I know.

“Don’t start.” I rest my head against the back of the seat. “Let me return Jessie to Duval House and then you can give me a lecture.”

He laughs through his nose. “Fair enough. I will spare you for now.”

I roll my head along the back of the seat so I can face him. It’s dark back here, but it takes nothing for my vampire eyes to examine him.

There are still dark circles beneath his eyes, but I would expect nothing less after lying unconscious from a witch’s spell. He’s as pale as ever, his eyes a little duller and bloodshot.

I’m reminded again of seeing him lying on his death bed all those years ago, and the hopelessness, the fear, and the desperation I felt.

Sometimes I forget that we are not entirely invincible. That there are still things to lose that would break me.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” I tell him.

“I am too.”

King turns through one of the main intersections in Midnight, taking us home. I don’t want to go home, but I have no choice.

“You have a plan?” Damien asks me. “To rescue your little mouse?”

I sigh and rub at my burning eyes with thumb and forefinger. I can barely think straight through the exhaustion and the hangover and the fury. The sunlight is my greatest weakness and there is literally no way to fight it. Not only will it burn me alive, but the light saps all of the energy from my bones. My arms are leaden. My head is foggy.

And yet time is ticking by in my head, reminding me that every second Mouse is in the fae realm, she is more and more at risk.

What did Baspin mean when he said they’d demand her obedience?

If any one of those fae touches my mouse, I will rip their ribs out of their chest cavity, one by fucking one, and pick my teeth with them.

“I can hear your anger,” Damien says.

I grumble and only now realize my eyes have slipped closed. I open them again, fighting the heaviness. “I’m going to kill them.”

“I know you are, and I will help you.”

“You sure you’re up for it?”

His eyes glow vampiric blue. “Of course, I am. Just as soon as we sleep.”

I don’t think I could possibly rest until Mouse is home, but even though I’m a supernatural creature with untenable power, there is one thing I cannot fight: the exhaustion of a vampire.

I wake hours later in the backseat of the SUV, the vehicle parked securely in the Duval House garage.

It’s dark.

The seat beside me is empty.

I pop the door open and climb out and smell, over the grease and gasoline of the garage, the faint scent of cigarette smoke and freshly poured bourbon.

I find Damien in the open doorway of the garage, shoulder leaning into the frame. There is a cigarette between his knuckles, a glass clutched in his hand. He looks better than he did this morning. The rest did us both well.

He hands me the cigarette and drains his glass.

I take a hit, smoke burning in my lungs and everything, almost , feels all right.

On an exhale, I ask him, “Did Kelly wake with you?”

His gaze is on the forest behind the garage, but his attention is elsewhere. “No. The witch theorizes because Kelly is human, she may need more time to recover.”

I can hear the tenor of hope in his voice, underlined by fear that perhaps the witch is wrong.

“She’ll come around,” I say.

He nods and waggles his fingers for the last of the cigarette, so I pass it off. He finishes it, exhales, then crushes the embers beneath his boot. “Tell me the rest of your story,” he says, changing the subject. “How did you come to have a tarp and a phone in the park?”

I tell him about Baspin and his offer to help, and my theory that he’s a member of the Winter Court.

“Could be a trap,” Damien points out.

“Aren’t they all potential traps?”

“Yes. Do you want to call him?”

I look past my brother over the dewy grounds of Duval property. The house is to our left, and I can hear the din of conversation as the vampires wake.

“We could have an army assembled in less than twenty minutes. Do we really need to waste time playing verbal judo with a cast-off fae? He’s given us all we need—they’ll keep Jessie alive as long as she serves their purpose, and I intend to get her back before then.”

Damien considers me. “You don’t want to rush into this.”

“What I want, dear brother, is to cut out hearts and tear out tongues.”

He tosses the empty bourbon glass in the air, catches it, tosses it again. A few dribbles of liquor slide down his arm. He starts pacing as he plays catch with the glass.

“You really want to go in blind?” he asks.

“Is it blind if we have a goal?”

“It is if we have no strategy.”

He’s right but I don’t care. Though to be honest, I’m surprised he’s even entertaining the idea. Maybe he hasn’t fully returned to himself. Maybe I’m getting us both into deep shit.

But I want my little mouse back. Right fucking now.

Thinking about her not with me makes my stomach knot up and my blood fucking boil.

“I don’t want to wait. I’m going with or without you.”

He stops pacing to scrutinize me, then tosses the glass up again, but this time abandons it and lets it shatter on the pavement. The sound is loud between us, the forest still beyond us.

“Very well.” He turns for the house. “Let us assemble an army and storm the fae and rescue your pretty little princess.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

If I have it my way, I will be bathing in fae blood within the hour.