Chapter Six

I Hate You So Much Right Now

Texas

Today is go day. If we’re lucky, we’ll have Dakota in our hands tonight.

And more good news is that the sharp pain that usually hammers my head when I wake up isn’t strong, and the alarm on my phone doesn’t sound as shrill.

Cold water from my shower prickles and prunes my skin, but it doesn’t penetrate or shock me out of my fog.

Once I’m downstairs, I eat a scoop of yogurt and an assortment of fruit that Nathan, the human-uncle-butler (maybe brainwashed victim ), had sliced. Even the juicy sliced peaches can’t break my sedation.

The house is quiet—not unusual for five in the morning. A few hours from sunrise, the Prussakov vamps were already in bed, and Anton isn’t much of an early riser. Grandma Lou will probably get up in the next hour to make me a buffet. Nathan will put on a smile for Grandma Lou, but he’s lowkey annoyed.

It’s quiet, too quiet, and it’s weird that no one is demanding my time.

Now, I walk downstairs to the basement in the state-of the-art dojo. I flick the switch, and the room floods with warm light. Per usual, I’m greeted by a sea of red—a plastic, spongy mat on which I often get my ass kicked. In the center of the red is the letter P , written in gaudy Gothic script and enclosed in a circle. Apparently, Lev and Evgeny made the bold design choice without Rose’s input, much to her daily horror.

I take a deep breath and sit in the center of the room.

As soon as I close my eyes, something cool slides over my skin—over and under, like a cat seeking attention. It’s not the chaotic berserker. This energy is calm and confident.

Huh. That can’t be right. But something’s still off. I try to open my eyes, but it feels like it’s drilled shut. A kaleidoscope of colors cuts into black. The colors blend, transforming from blinding bright to a muted blue and gray.

“What is this?”

“I am Remington. I am here to teach you.”

“You’re a soul?”

“Yes.” When he answers, it feels like the wind blows through his words. “This is the essence of my soul.”

“Can I see, like, your face?” The amorphous blob thing is not a good look, and it’s hard to concentrate.

“You can and you will once your senses sharpen. You are like a baby just coming into your powers.”

“Okay…” I look at the vibrating color in front of me. “So…what are you teaching me today?”

“I was a master Internist.”

Oh joy.

“You will learn to respect all guilds.” His tone is sharp, even more so with his wind-whipped voice.

“Oh, yeah…you can hear my thoughts. Sorry.” I shrug. “Listen, I know healing and connecting with my spirit or whatever is important. I know how to help myself in a pinch. But, you know, these hands are made for fighting.” I punch the air to punctuate my point.

“Your foe is formidable. You will need to unlock your full potential if only to touch him.”

“You’re right, and I know I can be stronger—”

“Your mind is scattered, diced, fractured.”

I wrinkle my nose. “You make me sound like a Waffle House hashbrown.”

“If this Waffle House hashbrown holds the ingredients to disorder, then it is true.”

I shrug. “I mean, if we’re going there, that means that I’m also delicious.”

He sighs, the biggest of sighs because his voice is as windy as a wintry night in Chicago .

“If you conquer your mind, there are no limits to what you can do. You can sense your adversary from miles away. You can hit him with a punch from across the room.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yes. The stronger your mind, the greater the distance. When I was a slayer, I could deal a deathblow from a hundred meters away.”

Hmmm. Three hundred feet and some change. That’s almost a football field.

“Okay…that sounds pretty cool,” I admit slowly. “How do I do it?”

“Empty your mind, empty yourself. I tried to give you the feeling this morning. You feel calm, yes?”

“That was you?” I shriek. “I felt like I was starring in an anti-depressant commercial.”

“Hmmm. I do not know what that means, but you must focus on conquering your emotions.”

“Okay, but for how long?”

“Try it now.”

“Umm, sure okay.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I can practically feel the blue blob judging me. “Can you…move to the side, or go away? Feels like you’re watching me.”

He sneers, but I feel him bop away.

I shake out my hands. “Pure thoughts. No thoughts. I’m not thinking at all.” I sound as calm as Remington, the blue blob. Didn’t realize blobs were souls now that I think about it. Charlotte says auras have colors. But what is an aura? Is it like a vibe or something? She told me mine was pitch black when I went berserker. But usually, I’m more red. And what the hell does red mean? I should probably look it up on the internet—

“Calm your mind, child.” Remington’s voice sounds like he’s far away.

“Yep. Got it, zip.” I mime zipping my lips together.

Remington ended up interrupting half a dozen times. In the end, I could only have empty thoughts for just under a minute, setting the Guinness World Records for gnats.

Remington gives me homework to try several times a day and removes the suppression hold he has on me.

When I open my eyes, Anton is sitting in front of me. His lips are relaxed in a, dare I say, smile? No teeth showing, of course.

“How long have you been here?”

“You’ve been mediating for a full hour. I’m impressed.”

“Oh, well, don’t be. I was…communing with the power of the stone.”

“Oh. How does one commune with the Philosopher’s Stone?”

I shrug. “It’s…complicated.”

“I can do complicated.” He crosses his arms. “Have you noticed that your darkness is under control?”

“Yeah…” I’ve been so busy worrying about the voices, I forgot about mistress chaos.

“All the exercises we’ve done. Breathing, fighting. It’s all building blocks to give your energy an outlet. To make your body, the container of this energy strong enough to host it. It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Am I cured?” I clap my hands together. Now, if I can get the souls out of the stone, I may have a normal-ish life.

“There is no cure, and you don’t want to get rid of it. You must first control it, get to know it, and then master it.”

I rock back, a little disappointed I couldn’t just exorcise it out of me. “All right, fine.”

“So. As you can see, I’m an old hand at complicated.” His eyes gleam with something like arrogance. No, like swag.

“When the souls speak to me, my hands get hot.” I lift my hand and point to the stone. “It’s still burning up. Touch it.”

Anton taps my palm and snatches his finger away. “It feels like I’ve touched a flame.”

“When you were staring at me meditating, I was talking to the soul in the stone. Remington something of another.”

Anton’s blond eyebrows shoot up. “Remington?”

“You know him?”

“He was long gone before my time, but he was a renowned Internist master. He’s the one who researched and created the technique to bind Alexander’s soul.”

“But he didn’t get to use it?”

“No. He’s a slayer who gave his powers to the stone.”

More like his soul. “He says that he’s able to hit someone from across the room, so color me impressed.”

“The soul kiss technique.” He frowns.

“You know how to do it?”

“No, it’s a forbidden.”

“Why?”

“You aren’t hitting someone’s body… You’re touching their soul. It can cause a lot of harm.”

“Right, they can die. But why would I care if I kill a vampire? Isn’t that the point?”

“If you touch someone’s soul, they imprint a piece of themselves onto you, therefore you can be harmed. It is not our technique, not one of an Internist. Remington simply borrowed this ability from Alexander.”

“Alexander kisses souls?”

“It’s more than a kiss. He’s able to move his soul into other’s bodies.”

“Ah. Like what he wants to do with you.”

“Exactly. We do not know where the soul goes. If it…if it simply gets pushed aside, moved to another plane, or maybe they blend into one. And that’s the price of the soul’s kiss. You cannot remain unscathed.”

“So Remington is…bad, then?”

“Please adjust your notion of good and bad,” Anton says. “I do not know Remington, but it would be wise to understand his intentions of teaching you a forbidden art.”

“Okay, I’ll ask. But he’s kinda prickly.” Well, more like an amorphous blob .

“Have you told anyone else?”

“I, ummm…” My voice trails. “No.”

“No?”

“No. I haven’t told anyone.”

I technically didn’t tell Khamari about Remington, but he does know about the other souls. Besides, he found out by way of a dream stroll.

“We’ll need to tell Charlotte about the Soul’s Kiss.”

“Oh, God. Can you tell her not to freak out?”

He shakes his head. “I do not have the social currency or relationship with Charlotte to influence her feelings.”

“Just tell her it’s no big deal.” Charlotte had too many things going on. We didn’t need to add yet another thing to my freak show powers.

“It is a big deal. I wonder why Richmond did not mention this as well.” He strokes his chin, looking at the cement ceiling. He lowers his chin, leveling his stare at me. “What I can promise you is that I’ll learn all I can about the technique. The Internists are a well-documented guild. Perhaps Charlotte may know some things about him. Though Remington was gone before her time, too.”

He stands and offers me his hand. “For now, we have another mission to focus on. Tonight, we find Dakota.”

I smile wide. “What are we waiting for?”

…

We’re back at the Hidden Fang. This time we aren’t in a cornered-off room, but I’m waiting near the bar, my attention on the hallway. I see brown curls. They aren’t greasy and limp, but bouncy and curly. Seeing Dakota’s hair so healthy twists something ugly inside of me.

“Easy.” Anton’s voice soothes me over the earpiece. He’s outside at the back, waiting in the car.

“I haven’t done anything.”

Yet.

“You’re tense.”

Tense is too tame a word.

I’m monumentally pissed at the girl who pretended to be my friend. The girl who held my hand when I cried out in pain. The girl who pretended to die in my arms, the bitch.

But mostly, I’m pissed at the girl who betrayed the Slayer Society and killed Maestros and Tyros—young students just figuring out their power.

The blades sheathed in the straps that crisscross my back just barely cool my heated skin.

Masked and mad, I push off the wall and follow Dakota down the hallway at the Hidden Fang. She’s meeting a vampire by the name of Ozias. With a name like that, he’s probably nine hundred and ninety-nine years old.

Dakota walks down the hall, hips nearly hitting either side of the wall as she confidently sways to Jhene Aiko’s “Happiness Over Everything.”

Fitting.

A lick of darkness whips the inside of my stomach, taunting me to tackle the traitor who haunts my dreams.

Not yet. Not now. My mental voice, unlike me, is patient and speaks to the darkness like a baby.

Satisfied (I think), it slithers away, while I play catch up and rush down the hall.

There’s only ten seconds to get Dakota before the next set of cameras. Just as I hit her heels, Dakota swings out her arms, releasing two sharp arrows. I duck, then tackle. My shoulder slams to the ground. Dakota clamps her legs around my waist, but I use the momentum against her and roll us over. I squeeze my hand around her neck, with the goal of trapping any weaselly sound from escaping her throat.

“Don’t scream. Don’t speak. Don’t move. Don’t even freaking breathe, you rat.”

I carefully release my hand from her throat and push a pressure point on her neck. Her penny brown eyes shine with rage before they flutter shut.

“She’s out,” I whisper. With more care than she deserves, I gently lift her up and put her over my shoulder. When a vampire and her meat sandwich pass by, I mutter, “He took too much,” and keep it moving.

They don’t even blink.

Anton and his blood spawn wait outside the open door in the back of the building.

Vincent clasps his hands in front of him. “You’ll remember the favor you owe us.” He’s speaking to Anton, but he’s staring at me.

I gift him with a tight smile. “Unless someone dies, I won’t bust up your little freak fest.”

Now, he’s looking at Anton. “Good. I hope the slayer friend is a woman of her word.” His fangs flash like that’s supposed to scare me.

“You can ask the slayer who’s standing in front of you, White Fang,” I advise while tossing Dakota inside the car. Her body topples on the floor. Oh, well.

Anton hands me a pair of earplugs that I stuff into her ears, next the blindfold. Then I slap some tape across her mouth and buckle her up nice and tight.

“Let’s go.” I slide into the passenger seat.

Anton drives us to someplace that I’m not even aware of, about ten miles away. He doesn’t say anything, and I appreciate the silence.

Though I’m quiet, inside I’m screaming, and my body quakes with rage. My adrenaline is so jacked, it feels like I’ve slammed ten Red Bulls. Forget giving me wings. I can fly into space, punch the sun, and yell my victory to the sky.

Thankfully, none of the voices are bothering me, though I feel a seismic shift—like a tiny New York earthquake—that rattles my body.

My body’s reaction doesn’t make much sense. Dakota’s here. She’s finally in our grasp and now we can get answers.

The desire to turn and stare and make sure she’s live and in living color is overwhelming, but I need to play it cool in front of Anton. Instead, I sneak a peek in the rearview mirror. And yes, she’s there. Mouth open, slightly snoring like she used to do back when we roomed…

“No.”

“No, what?” Anton asks.

“No to stupid memories.”

Anton nods, like what I just said made sense to him.

Once we arrive, we pull into a desolate lot in the middle of farmland with a cluster of small sheds scattered across the field.

I don’t ask where we are. I just know it’s a new safe house for slayers, since Dakota compromised the other locations.

By the time we arrive, Dakota is up, kicking and screaming. Well, she’s trying. The rope I looped around her legs during our drive keeps her in place, and that tape around her mouth muffles the shrieks, giving her the look of a flopping fish.

Charlotte and Rose are waiting inside the shed that sits near the back of the lot.

The shed is the size of those ridiculously expensive tiny houses that I’ve seen on HGTV but without the furnishings. Rose leans against a worn workbench. Its surface is crisscrossed with trails of rust and indentions from something sharp. Shelves are lined on either side with tools, both sharp and practical, sitting atop the dusty planks.

“Strap her to the chair.” Charlotte points to the only seat in the room. Beside the chair is a wobbly wood stand and, on top of that, a steel pan filled with what looks like medical instruments, including a syringe and something you would probably use to pull a tooth.

Dakota stares at the pan, gulps, and then hyperventilates.

I walk to the commander, bump her shoulder with mine. “You okay?”

Charlotte doesn’t look at me. Her eyes are on Dakota. “I’ll be better once I have answers. How are you?”

“Peachy.” I roll my shoulders. “You ready?”

“Yep,” Rose answers, though I’m speaking to Charlotte.

Of all of us, Charlotte bears the biggest grief. She knew loads of teachers and students for decades and centuries. A few days ago, she confessed her regret in giving Dakota the admin job. It was like giving her the keys to the kingdom of all our secrets.

Thinking about all the shady shit Dakota has done to us, I march to her chair, remove her blindfold, and tear the tape from her mouth.

“Yowch!” Her eyes glisten with tears. “Should’ve known you were stalking me—”

“Shut up,” I say in a low, dangerous voice. “Delaware,” I whisper. “Florida, Kansas—”

“What?”

“Those are just a few people you killed because you sold us out.”

“Does that include the vampires you killed?” The chick has the audacity to cock her head and smirk like she’s caught me.

Before I can give her a nasty answer, Charlotte hauls off and slaps her so hard, the pop vibrates across the room. “Stop it. Stop pretending you don’t care. You were friends with the students and Maestros.”

“They were no friends of mine.” Dakota slowly shakes her head. A red handprint is forming on her cheek. “They called me names. Bullied me because they viewed me as the weak link.”

“Would it have made a difference?” Charlotte crosses her arms. “Or did you already plan to kill them before you came to the Society?”

Dakota opens her mouth, then snaps it closed. She narrows her eyes. “I don’t have to answer you.”

“We have a serum, so yeah…you will answer us,” Rose says from across the room. She’s the only voice of calm and reason between the four of us. Anton, quiet as a mouse, sits in the corner, legs crossed. If it weren’t for his fingers gripping his knee, I wouldn’t think he cared. But he must feel something. Dakota caused his mother’s death and his evil father’s awakening.

“Easy way or hard way?” Rose taunts.

Dakota doesn’t seem bothered by our revelation. She smiles and says, “Hard,” all bitchy like.

Charlotte grabs the syringe on the steel plate beside her, along with a few other torture devices. “You’ll find that we’ve improved our serum. So whatever blocks or things you think will cover you…won’t.”

Charlotte jabs the needle into Dakota’s neck, and she winces.

Calmly, Charlotte looks down at her wristwatch. “Ten. Nine…eight…”

“Why are you counting?”

“It takes ten seconds. Super speedy thanks to Maestro Bacon. And…” She claps, bringing her hands to her mouth. “That brings us to time.” Charlotte drops her hand and her smile. “Now, Dakota, tell us everything.”

“What…” Dakota gulps before finishing. “Do you want to know?”

“Why did you betray us? Was that always your intention?”

Beads of sweat plump like pimples on her forehead. She takes another ragged breath and stares down at her feet.

“D-don’t…don’t do this.”

“Answer me.” Her voice is high and rings with impatience.

“The night I became a slayer, R-Rich killed my friends.”

“He killed humans?” Charlotte asks.

“T-they were vampires. But they weren’t bad. Rich just came in shooting. H-he,” she clears her throat, “seemed tweaked or something because he was smacking his head and talking to himself.”

“Talking to himself?” Charlotte shakes her head. “No, you must be mistaken.”

“She has the truth serum,” Anton says from across the room. His attention shifts from Charlotte to Dakota. “Tell us more about his…erratic behavior.”

“Asking questions and then answering himself. The vampires…they told him they weren’t harming me. They were just drinking and with my consent. They liked my blood. P-probably because I’m a slayer but didn’t know it.” She shrugs. “Nothing we said got through to him.”

Rose curses, but I ignore her and step closer. “Did he tell you why he killed them?”

“He…” Dakota squeezes her eyes, as if it helps her to remember. Sweat pores from her collarbone, sticking her shirt to her chest. “He said they broke the treaty or something and dragged me to the Society. So then I…I vowed to get you all back.”

I tilt my head. “Girl, please tell me you didn’t kill all of us over some vampires who were about to suck you dry?”

“They were my friends! They had it under control.”

“You were their food .” I cross my arms, pacing the floor in front of her chair. “Are you really a slayer?”

“Yes. I…I didn’t know it. I’m a witch, so I thought the power I was experiencing was from the source. Alchemy was already second nature to me. So I pored over the books and—”

“And pretended you were weak. Preyed on Charlotte’s goodwill and infiltrated the Society,” I finish. “Got it.”

Dakota doesn’t look at me. She’s looking beyond me at the commander. “I like you, Charlotte. I like you, too, Raven—”

“Texas—”

“But I’m so angry. I had friends who understood me. I didn’t feel alone. They…they were going to figure out a way to turn me, but I feared being a…a Made. I didn’t want to lose my humanity.”

“You lost your humanity when you betrayed us.” Charlotte’s tone is rich with rage. “Not everyone was bad to you. Nevada lent you clothes the first few weeks after you arrived. Paris allowed you to join her inner sanctum. Santa Barbara sparred with you to make you stronger. You…” Charlotte licks her lips. “You said you didn’t have friends, but you had them…you had me.” Her voice breaks as she slaps her chest. “You had all of us.”

Dakota stares at her, shaking and sweating and sorrowful. Charlotte tilts her head back to inhale like she’s ready to roar. But she doesn’t yell. She turns and looks at me with so much grief it rips my heart in two.

But Charlotte’s already mourned our teachers and students. Now, I think she’s grieving the death of their friendship.

“Your treachery led to Paris’s death. That, I cannot forgive.” Charlotte closes her eyes, and it seems as if she’s shutting Dakota out. Like if she doesn’t see her, she can’t be hurt by her anymore.

“Charlotte. Please,” Dakota pleads, her voice as small as a bean.

“What Richmond did was wrong. He will answer for his crimes. And he could have answered to his crimes if only you would have told me.”

“Don’t you see, Charlotte?” I point at my former roommate and friend. “Dakota already decided before she knew you. Everything she said to us, every secret she shared or tears she cried, was all pretend.”

Dakota’s eyes darken. “Just like Rich made up his mind. He didn’t give my friends a chance.”

“We were your friends!” I scream. “Bitch Rich scarred you, so what do you do? Kill your classmates who have nothing to do with it. You’re no better than him.”

Dakota’s head droops along with her shoulders.

“We’re done with trying to figure you out. Let’s ask our questions and erase this chick’s memories. I’ll go first… How did you hook up with Alexander?” I snap.

“When I was…in the field. Rider, that vampire you fought…he tried to kill me, but I stopped him. Told him I was on their side. He didn’t trust me at first until I…I proved myself.”

Charlotte gasps. “That’s the night Oklahoma disappeared.”

“They’re dead,” Dakota confirms, without remorse. “I lied. They did not run away.”

Charlotte crouches low and meets her eyes. “Who killed Oklahoma?”

“Me.” She shrugs. “How else was I going to prove myself?”

Charlotte lurches forward. I grab her and pull her away.

I wasn’t used to the commander being so angry. That’s usually my thing.

“I’m fine.” Charlotte shrugs out of my hold. She takes another step closer, just outside of striking distance. “After you proved yourself, what happened between you and Rider?”

“After some more…points of proving myself, he introduced me to Doctor Winters. Told me the plans to resurrect Alexander, and I helped him research how to make that happen. The r-rest is…history.” She squirms in her chair, still attempting to resist the serum.

“Does Alexander still seek the Emerald Tablet?” Charlotte asks.

“Y-yes.”

Charlotte walks close to her chair. “Where is it?”

“Somewhere in Egypt.”

“Where, exactly?”

“There are many theories, but we don’t know. We think it’s buried somewhere underneath a pyramid or temple.”

“You know how many temples there are in Egypt?” I throw my hands up.

“Eighty,” Dakota answers with bookish precision.

“What are your top theories for its location?” Charlotte snaps.

“We don’t know, but…Khamari will find it.”

Vampire business, huh? Should’ve known his trashy ass was up to no good.

“How will he know where it is?” I ask. “If no one else does?”

Anton’s cool eyes focus on me. I pretend to ignore him.

“Temple g-guardians.” Dakota struggles against her bounds, against her words. “If there are many swarming around, they’re probably protecting s-something precious. That’s the theory we’re going with.”

“Who the hell are temple guardians?” My voice rings with alarm.

“Warriors. Guardians of the sacred text and the Netherworld,” Rose answers.

“Warriors?” A shiver quivers down my spine. “Meaning they are next-level dangerous?”

“The highest level,” Dakota answers. “If they find out what Khamari’s after, they will kill him.”

“We need to warn him,” Rose says. “He’s still our ally.”

But I think he already knows. Which is why he wants me to save his brother. So yeah, he may be feeding Charlotte information, but it’s filtered.

I sigh. “Tell me Alexander wants the tablet for world peace.”

“N-no. T-to perfect vampirism.”

“What’s his definition of perfection? Walk in the sun?”

“Yes, that’s part of it, but no, it’s more…it’s…” A drop of sweat falls into her eyes. She blinks, fighting the pull.

“Out. With. It.” I clap my hands for emphasis.

“Any kind of weakness…is all I know…a-all he’s told me. He doesn’t trust me, doesn’t t-trust anyone.”

“Why would he trust someone who betrayed their friends?”

“My friends are dead.” There’s no hesitation, no struggle in her response.

I clench my jaw. “Right. I’m done.” Whipping around, I point at Charlotte. “Are you done?”

Charlotte clasps her hands together like she’s praying to God or maybe for strength. “Give us five minutes. Go outside and cool down. I’ve got it from here.”

“You sure? You seem a little…frazzled.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine.” She takes a cleansing breath and offers me a dim smile.

“You’re erasing her memories after, right?”

“Yes. Anton’s already left to clear out her belongings and set her up for a delightful trip on the other side of the globe.”

He left? I turn to the corner of the room. He disappeared during our interrogation.

“Good.” I twist the handle on the doorknob.

“No!” Dakota shouts. “You all think you’re so righteous, but you’re monsters. Just like the rest of us.”

My body flinches. I know what I am. But I snort and roll my eyes. “I’m not like you.”

“No. But you’ll end up just like Rich.”

“Whatever, girl.” I yank the door open.

“Ask him about the voices,” she taunts before I step through.

“They all know I can hear them,” I answer without turning.

“It’s not just about hearing them. It’s what they make you do. Just like Rich, you’ll be driven to violence.”

This time I say nothing. How could I when everything living thing inside of me decays?

“You won’t be able to control yourself or know what you or they’re thinking. Those poor souls trapped inside the stone are going to run you to the ground,” Dakota taunts.

“Souls?” Rose utters a soft, pained whisper.

Rose stares at me from across the room, her eyes seeming to will me to tell her the truth.

“My…my uncle helped. He sacrificed his powers, his immortality for the stone.” Rose turns to me, grabs my hand. “Is he in there?”

Something surges inside of me. Chatter. Voices. Not the darkness, but desperation. I shake my head slowly, side-to-side, and give them a mental shush.

I pull my hand away from Rose. “Shut up, Dakota. Too bad I can’t erase my memories of you.” I march through the door, fully expecting the door to slam, but Rose is on my heels.

“Let’s go for a drive,” she says.

“I’m not in the mood for an interrogation.”

“I know.” She swallows. “As much as I want to ask questions, I won’t. I know you just need to get away for a minute.”

My shoulders drop. “All right. Let’s go.”

…

After Rose clicks the key fob for her red coupe, I slide across the buttery leather seats.

Immediately Janet Jackson’s “That’s the Way Love Goes” blasts from the speakers. Rose loves her ’90s music. Ms. Jackson is the perfect cruising on the highway music.

“What’s up with you and that Nik dude?” I ask, determined to set the tone of the convo.

“Nikolai.” Her voice is thick and layered.

“You dated?”

“ The Nikolai Lukin?” She scoffs. “Hardly.”

“Did the dirty tango, huh?”

Rose snorts. “Why does everything have to be dirty and immoral with humans? Sex should be beautiful.”

My mind, of course, immediately goes back to the night at the hotel with Khamari a few weeks ago. It seems like ages ago. I was a different person then. Optimistic, falling in…falling into something.

“Okay, well, you and Nik had beautiful sex, then.”

“No, we didn’t.” She pokes out her lip. “Not without my trying, mind you.”

“Really?” I look my friend up and down. How ol’ dude stared at her, like he’d seen everything—her naked body and her soul. I find this hard to believe.

“Believe it,” she says, like she heard my thoughts.

“Get out of my head.”

“You practically broadcast your feelings. And my God, you’re so emo right now.”

“What?”

“Don’t call me Raven, call me Texas. Wah.” She releases her hands from the steering wheel and mimics a crying baby. “I’m so dark on the inside. Wah. No one understands me. Wah.”

“Not true.”

“ So true. You aren’t the only monster girl with a broken heart.”

“I hate you.”

“I know you don’t.” She grins.

“Back to Nik.”

“Oh, yes, Nikolai.”

“Guessing you guys go back?” I prompt.

“Waaaay back, as you youngsters say. He knew me as a human.”

“Oh, word?” I ask, trying and failing to imagine a human Rose.

“The wordiest of words, Dear Texas.”

“He was turned by Alexander long ago and then defected with Aunt Mila.”

“Nice. So he’s a good one?”

Rose snorts and slaps my shoulder. “Look at you, expanding your emotional range for vampires. Anyway…outside of Aunt Mila, none of the family are Royals or born as vampire. It’s extremely rare to birth a vampire naturally.”

“I’m aware.” I tap my fingers against my thigh.

“Right. So what you don’t know is that Aunt Mila trained all of us, even though we are Made vampires, to ensure we don’t become vapid, soulless creatures. We basically can’t go out for a full year, maybe even two. It took me over a year to get it together. Anyway, Aunt Mila gives the family a choice. One we make before the age of twenty-five. We can stay human and support the family in our way.”

“Like Nathan?” I asked of their butler who’s also related to the Prussakovs.

“Exactly! Anyway, when I forwent my humanity, everyone was excited…except for Nikolai. You see, he thinks of himself as my honorary uncle. He and my uncles…including the one in the stone.” She clears her throat. “They were very close. And so he was around a lot when I grew up. When my uncles wouldn’t play dollies with me, Nikolai was there. When I was being courted, Nikolai was the one who taught me how to defend myself against the advances of forward young men.”

I cackle when I think of young Rose. A proper young lady.

“So he was angry because you grew up and, on top of that, you became a vampire.”

“Exactly. Right around the time I turned, he began making up excuses to stay away. Thankfully, we moved from Russia to the United States, so no more awkward dinners.”

“You still like him?”

“Like him?” She snorts. “Every time I see him, it feels like little bluebirds are flying around my head. And I hear violins. No, a symphony.” She waves her hand. “And this warm feeling flows in my heart, and something shoots out of my chest and connects to his.”

I shake my head. Having a conversation with Rose is like riding a perpetual tilt-a-whirl—sometimes dizzying, sometimes exciting, and sometimes nauseating.

“So you kinda like him?”

“More than a little.” Rose slows down, and next thing I know we’re back at the abandoned shacks.

She parks her car. “Ready to go back and face your ex-best friend?”

“Dakota isn’t my ex-best friend. My best friend is dead.”

“No.” Rose squeezes my hand. “She’s right here.”

I swallow the hot ball in my throat. I don’t want to be friends with a vampire, yet…here we are. We speak every day, train together, and somewhat eat together. We watch movies. She’s getting me through all the great teen classics of the ’80s. And so has Charlotte. She’s my superior, but she’s also been a good friend.

So yeah, forget Dakota.

“Your uncle…I haven’t heard his voice just yet. But I’m going to figure out a way to set them free, okay? I promise.”

Rose unbuckles her seat, leans over the console, and tackles me with a cobra-tight hug. “I know you will. That’s why I won’t badger you…too much.”

I clear my throat, done with the emotional stuff. “Anyway, next time Nikolai comes around, we’ll think of a way to drive him crazy.”

“I know, right? And get this—until we defeat Alexander, he’s staying with us.”

“Rose and Texas, up to no good.” I smile. “This will be fun.”

…

When we return inside, Dakota is out of it.

Charlotte jerks her head, and I follow her.

Before she can start in on whatever she has to say, I beat her to it. “I think we need to find Khamari before he gets his hands on the tablet.”

“We have slayer societies posted all over the world. I’ll already called our African faction while you were out with Rose.”

“Right, of course you’re on it.” Stuffing my hands into my pocket, I spin in a circle. “But there’s something else I forgot to tell you about.”

Charlotte crosses her arms, listening.

“Khamari walked my dreams last night,” I say. “And since he gave up Dakota’s location, we made a deal for me to help heal his brother. I should have asked you before I agreed, but I was desperate to find her. You needed closure and…so do I.”

Charlotte’s eyes are welling with tears, not the sad kind. The angry ones, from the way her mouth is twisted.

“Are you angry at me?”

Charlotte puts her hand on my shoulder. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I’ve been so…angry. So focused on putting everyone back together that I’ve forgotten myself. I…can’t believe I slapped her.”

“Eh. Don’t beat yourself up about that.” I mean, at least she didn’t stab her, which would have been totally within her rights.

“No, it’s not just that. It’s about the souls, too. The look on your face when Dakota taunted you about the voices…” She sucks her teeth and closes her eyes. “And this entire time you’ve been feeling all alone.” She sighs. “And I’ve been too busy to follow my gut instinct that something was wrong with you. For that, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I shake my head. “It’s your boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Since when?” I snort.

“Since now. Speaking of exes, you can honor your word and heal Khaven, but you’re taking Anton with you.”