Chapter 9

My little bunny.

His words clung to her like spiderwebs, bouncing around in her head and echoing like wicked laughter. Scarlett hugged her backpack to her aching chest as the train rattled through the tunnels. She looked around, alert for the glint of red eyes.

"Next stop, Peachtree Center," a tinny male voice announced over the intercom.

The adrenaline of the fight was wearing off, leaving her body heavy and achy. Her clothes were dirty, her hair disheveled, but the early morning commuters pointedly kept their eyes on their phones as she rose and hurried out of the train.

As soon as she stepped onto the platform, she cut away from the stairs and pressed herself against the tiled wall, breathing deep. A wet earth smell mingled with the ozone-electric of the train rails. Lots of humans, some unwashed, most smelling fresh with morning showers and toiletries. Dozens of tinny streams of music in earbuds, and the booming, unintelligible announcements of arrivals and departures.

She caught the faintest hint of Julian on her clothes, where he'd grabbed her. The memory sent a shiver through her, one that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

Gritting her teeth, she shoved off the wall and stripped off her sooty, blood-spattered shirt. A couple of college boys in Georgia Tech shirts walked past, gaped at her, then snapped away like they were afraid they'd be busted for ogling. Quickly, she yanked a Georgia State University t-shirt down over her sports bra, put on a blue zip-up jacket, and covered her hair with an I Love Atlanta ballcap she'd bought earlier.

Fully disguised, she headed for the escalator and jolted at the sound of a terrible metallic screech. Adrenaline spiked through her as she whipped her head around to see the waiting crowd backing away from the train.

A pair of uniformed MARTA workers barreled through the crowd, one of them shouting, "Please get back!" In an undulating mass, the crowd rippled away from the platform's edge.

Several bystanders were pointing upward, and she followed their gesture to see one of the digital signs that usually displayed the train schedule had fallen, leaving sparking wires hanging from the ceiling. Glass and twisted metal littered the platform below.

There were chirps of radios and tinny voices, and amidst the chaos she could hear a woman saying, the sign's on the track, followed by a tinny male voice from a radio saying, clear the station.

Sparks erupted from the ceiling, prompting a chorus of shouts. One of the workers bellowed,

"Back away! Evacuate the station!"

The crowd was already pushing toward the stairs and the escalators toward street level, and she wove through them to get ahead before getting stuck in the crush. The smell of burnt ozone stung at her nostrils and sent a shiver down her spine. At least she hadn't been close enough to get hurt.

Just breathe, she told herself as she slowly ascended the escalator.

Julian had obviously been expecting her, which made her wonder if she could trust Kova. He'd had two strong vampires with him, one with magic that smelled of blood and smoke. And they were stronger than expected. Usually a couple of poison darts would have put them down, and the smoke grenade should have dropped any stragglers. But they were still up and fighting when she got down to the ground, which concerned her.

When the dark-haired one used his magic, she was afraid it was all over. It had tangled over her skin, burning and scratching, but then something had surged out of her. Cold and powerful, as if Armina was there to shield her, just like when Shea attacked her in the woods.

It had left her feeling numb and unsteady, but it had also knocked the man back, leaving him useless long enough for her to get to Julian.

Thinking of him made her heart race, her stomach trying to crawl up her throat.

My little bunny. I loved you once.

No, no, no.

She fought to breathe normally, fighting back the creeping panic like it was an encroaching vampire. Soon, she smelled the exhaust of cars and heard the welcome sound of street noise. The air shifted as the escalator finally dumped her and her fellow passengers onto Peachtree Street. Upon her arrival the other day, she'd been frustrated to discover that there were a ridiculous number of streets called Peachtree, and the GPS didn't know which one she wanted.

The morning sun glowed along the sidewalk, and she slowly surveyed her surroundings. It wasn't impossible for vampires to be out in the day, but in direct sunlight they'd be no stronger than the average human. She still checked, then took a leisurely walk around the block in the opposite direction to make sure she hadn't been followed. After picking up snacks and first aid supplies in the drugstore on the corner, she finally crossed the street and headed into her hotel.

Paranoia had her whipping her head back and forth, even knowing that it was broad daylight, even though there was no hint of vampire in the air. The world no longer made sense, and so it was perfectly possible that Julian Alcott might simply appear out of thin air to shatter what remained of her reality.

Sucking in air desperately to stave off the fear, she white-knuckled her backpack straps and headed for the elevator. One hand fished in her pocket for the hotel key.Her muscles trembled, and she reminded herself to breathe, just fucking breathe. She was an experienced vampire hunter, not some scared little rabbit.

My little bunny.

Her stomach lurched, and she fixed her attention on the elevator buttons, counting them silently to give her mind something else to do. Finally she reached her floor, practically sprinted to the room, and fumbled into her backpack for the hotel key.

Stripping as she went, she barreled for the bathroom and pondered the toilet. As sick as she felt, it wasn't time to eject everything. Instead, she turned on the shower and climbed in, already scrubbing furiously at her skin.

She'd been so close to him, so close to death, and?—

No.

She hadn't been close at all. He'd had his chance to kill her when he pinned her to that wall, face pressed against dusty brick.

But he didn't.

And that, not her impending death, not his sharp fangs and threats, had her almost hyperventilating. She slid down the side of the shower and onto the floor, covering her face as she heaved and fought to breathe.

The world was melting around her.

My little bunny.

Because something in her snapped when he said, "I know you, Brigitte Haas." It was recognition, it was welcome, it was yes—and that made no sense in any version of her reality.

How did he know that name? She'd heard it in her dreams a dozen times, had stared down at him with that warmth in his eyes in her dreams. Was he planting things in her head? Was it some sick game?

"I loved you once," he said, as if they'd met before. Surely he didn't mean when she was just a baby, too tiny to even remember what her mother's face looked like. Falling in love with an infant was bizarre even by evil vampire standards.

It was all some sick, twisted game. Because the alternative was too much. It could not be possible that Kova was right when he told her to run, that Tante Mina was hiding things, that her dreams were real.

And it could not be possible that her entire life was built on a foundation of brittle glass.

My little bunny.

She surged to her feet, nearly slipped in the shower, and rinsed the last clinging suds from her body. When she got out, she slowly examined herself in the mirror. A few bruises from tussling with Julian, with an ugly one across her back where she'd run into a counter. She'd had worse from sparring with Kova.

He really hadn't been trying to hurt her, only to keep her from killing him.

Anxiety welled up in her chest as the world started to turn again, but she closed her eyes, gripped the counter, and breathed deep. He was the leader of a powerful vampire court with a similarly powerful witch serving him. Of course he was in her head. They'd already invaded her dreams. Who know what Shoshanna York—with that warm sweet-smelling magic, her memories reminded her—had planted in her head?

She wrapped herself in a towel and slowly combed out her long hair. Maybe Tante Mina was right all along. Scarlett wasn't ready. The thought of her aunt reminded her of the phone, accusing with its little airplane icon.

Yesterday when Mina realized she was gone, she had texted and called her numerous times, asking where she was. At the time, Scarlett was still in Charlotte, trying to work up the nerve to go. And with a terrible realization that something had forever shifted, regardless of whether she believed Kova's story, she Googled how can my phone be tracked.

Sitting there in the parking lot of a gas station, car fueled and ready to head south, she'd looked for tracking apps, and realized that she'd been sharing her location with her aunt and her apprentices for months. That made sense; if she got hurt hunting, they could find her.

And now, she didn't want to be found. She followed the instructions on that handy website to turn off the location tracking, including the Find My Phone app that would let Tante Mina look up her account and find a "lost" device.

By now, Mina had to know that she was in Atlanta. Shea would have told her that much. The size of the city made it easy to hide. But she knew that Scarlett would be looking for Julian, and they had the advantage of knowing where Kova had gone to find Shoshanna York.

Scarlett paced in the hotel room, occasionally catching a glimpse of the red-haired stranger in the mirror. Who the hell was this woman who defied orders and went off mission?

"What the hell are you doing?" she muttered.It had taken no time at all for her to turn all that training around and scheme against her allies.

She had lived her entire life with her aunt. From the earliest memories, Armina had told her that she was a special girl, meant to do great things. And when she turned eighteen, she learned that one of those great things was to kill Julian Alcott, a leader among some of the worst vampires in the world.

So why did the evil king of the worst vampires in existence not kill her when he had a chance?

She flopped onto the bed and opened her laptop. Armina had resorted to emailing her when the texting didn't work, it seemed. She had five new messages since yesterday, each pleading with her to come home. The last one was chilling.

Scarlett,

This is not a game. Julian Alcott will hurt you, and I cannot protect you from afar. You are not ready for this. You must trust me and come home.

Love,

Tante Mina

She hesitated, then slammed the computer shut. Her aunt had always taken care of her, given her everything she ever needed.

But there was Kova. Armina's treatment was unusually cruel, given that he'd been their ally since Scarlett could remember.And stranger still, Kova had said that Shoshanna gave him hope things could be better.

If she was cynical, she might think that Kova hoped the Auberon witch would break his binding. But if that was the case, why did she send him back beaten up and half-dead?

Before she could stop herself, Scarlett started to dress again. She put on fresh clothes with her sleek armored vest under a loose shirt. She dumped out her backpack and emptied her jacket pockets to take inventory.

She'd lost some of her stakes and used two of the smoke grenades. She had a few more in her suitcase, along with plenty of wooden bullets and?—

A tiny black box caught her eye. She grabbed it and examined it closely; it was rectangular, no bigger than a package of dental floss. This wasn't hers. A rough patch marred the plastic, with the hint of white paint at the edge, as if someone had sanded off letters.

A cold chill swept over her. Her body shuddered as she remembered being pinned against the wall, wondering if this was how it ended as Julian checked her pockets. He'd found a full magazine of wooden bullets and tossed them into the darkness.

Then his hand dipped into her pocket, and she'd felt it slide over her hip. She'd been so consumed with formulating her escape that she hadn't been able to wonder what he was doing.

"You sly bastard," she marveled, staring at the little box. It had to be a tracking device. She took a picture of it with her phone, then jammed it back in her pocket.

Finding the tracker didn't send her into a tailspin. All that roiling energy solidified, like a single block of ice in her chest that brought a cooling sensation, a stabilizing weight. Now she had a task, and she wouldn't have to think all too closely about Julian until it was done.

She dressed quickly and covered her hair again with the ballcap. After checking the rest of her clothing and her backpack, she was confident this was the only tracker, so she grabbed it and headed out into the hotel. She surveyed the floor and breathed deeply. No scent of vampires.

A droning alarm buzzed over the quiet ambient music of the hotel. When she reached the elevator bank, she found a maintenance worker in a blue uniform stretching yellow tape over the open doors. The silver doors were caught halfway open, and peering past them, the elevator shaft yawned open.

"Sorry, you'll have to take the stairs down," the man drawled. "Should be fixed in an hour or two."

"Oh," she murmured. "Thanks."

In the cinderblock stairwell, her thundering footsteps echoed and seemed to chase her. Her heart was racing by the time she emerged into the lobby. Downstairs, she headed out onto the street and contemplated tossing the tracker onto the nearest truck that passed, sending him on a chase. But as she fiddled with the little black box in her pocket, an idea dawned on her. This could be an invitation.

She crossed the street and headed back into the drugstore where she'd bought her first aid. She bought a roll of medical tape and a box of plastic bags, then headed out of the store.

The Peachtree Center was a small hub of shops, restaurants, and the MARTA station that had brought her across town on her hasty retreat. The miniature mall wasconnected via glass-covered skywalks to several nearby hotels and office buildings. She wandered through them until she found herself in another towering hotel.

Up and down she rode elevators, debating where to set her trap. Finally, she settled on the men's restroom on one of the lobby floors. Across the cavernous atrium was a bar and lounge with a balcony that overlooked the lower levels. From there, she could see the door to the restroom. She would be able to see him coming.

After checking behind herself, she ducked into the men's restroom. Moving quickly, she sealed the tracker inside a plastic bag, then used the medical tape to secure the little box in the ledge beneath one of the sinks. It wasn't the sort of place that would get scrubbed clean every day, nor where someone might find it.

Her heart thumped as she hurried out of the bathroom, catching a strange look from a man in a sport coat as he entered.

"Wrong one," she said sheepishly, ducking her head as she darted up to the balcony. She knew that he wouldn't come in the middle of the day, but still, she waited for several hours until the fatigue started to catch up with her. And she was startled when she saw a familiar face.

Not Julian, nor his comrades, but Jonas Wynn. Though his salt-and-pepper hair and casual clothes made him blend in with the businessmen milling around the lobby, he moved with a feline grace that distinguished him from the crowd of humanity. She watched him checking his surroundings, head tilted up as he sniffed the air.

Shit, could he smell her?

She ducked into her chair as if that would help. If he noticed her scent, he didn't come for her. He patrolled the entire perimeter of the hotel lobby, even stepped into the men's room and back out several times. After checking over his shoulder, he slipped into the women's room and burst out thirty seconds later.

Something in her wanted to run to him and ask for the truth. Jonas was one of the most respected vampire hunters not just in the country, but in the world. He organized long missions that eradicated dangerous courts, including four baronies of the Casteron in the Pacific Northwest. Even Armina had spoken highly of him, saying he embodied the spirit of the Shieldsmen.

Until just a few months ago, when his daughter Kristina was turned. Scarlett had worked with her several times. She was a good hunter, at least for a human. On their first trip to Atlanta, Kristina had almost gotten herself killed, and Scarlett had gotten shot dragging her to safety. The last time Scarlett was here, Kristina had been wrangling the vampire with no memory and using him as a weapon.

And then…something happened. No one would tell her the details, but it was spoken of in hushed whispers. Kristina Arensberg got turned against her will, then threw in her lot with the Auberon. In turn, Jonas Wynn betrayed the Shieldsmen because of her. Now both of them were considered enemies to the Shieldsmen; not only had they turned from the hunters, but had joined the Auberon of all courts. For months, the Shieldsmen had been locking down secret locations, moving their armories and safehouses, since Jonas Wynn had access to nearly everything. It was a betrayal of the worst kind.

But Scarlett had hunted with Jonas. There was a cold, matter-of-fact way about him that she found reassuring. It was one thing to leave hunting to protect his daughter, but what could have convinced Jonas Wynn to side with Julian after the long, bloody history they had?

Something in her tugged, told her to go, to throw herself into his arms and ask for his help. At the very least, she could ask if there was any chance that she was wrong, if the world was different than she'd been taught.

But a cold voice—one that sounded curiously like Tante Mina—said, He's not your father. And he has no reason to give a damn about you. He's the enemy.

So she watched him go, feeling as alone as ever.

They'd probably think she trashed the tracker, but if she retrieved it later and moved it, they might realize what she was doing. Would that be enough to draw Julian out again?

Her mind was spinning as she headed back through the labyrinth of sidewalks and skywalks to get back to her hotel. But instead of going upstairs to her room to sleep, she walked straight to the parking garage and got into the sleek black hybrid she'd borrowed from Kova.

She knew what she was doing, but her rational mind was turned away, covering its eyes and ears so she didn't have to acknowledge it. Quickly swiping through Kova's GPS brought up a series of addresses he'd recently visited. Three in Midnight Springs, Georgia, a twenty-five-minute drive from here. She tapped the first address, cranked the ignition, and pulled out into the street before she could change her mind.

Thirty minutes later,Scarlett was parked at a chain hotel advertising continental breakfast and free wi-fi. This didn't seem useful, but she could imagine it was where Kova had stayed on his visit. The second address was for a drugstore, and the third was a street address another few miles outside of town.

Her heart pounded as she followed the directions to a side road, then to a private drive with a sign marked No Trespassing.

Past a brick fence and an ornate wrought iron gate stood a beautiful two-story house. A mansion, by any account. It was older, but well-kept, with immaculately manicured hedges and flowers around the front.

This was where the witch lived. And she had to laugh, because her instinct was to think this doesn't look like a witch's home, but her aunt and her apprentices lived in a sprawling mansion of their own with a swimming pool and a home theater.

Come home to me.

She was about to leave the car at the gate and jump right out when the tiniest bit of self-preservation broke through her insanity. Instead, she kept driving, took a U-turn a half mile away, drove past the house, and back to a gas station nearby.

When she got out, she breathed deep and found the usual smells; old gasoline, exhaust, moldering food in trash cans. But there was the chilling scent of vampires here, and it was fresh.

That made sense; if Shoshanna lived out here, then it stood to reason that other vampires had passed through.

Before leaving the car, she holstered her gun under her arm and covered it with an oversized jacket. She checked her appearance in the mirror; she looked tired, her bright eyes ringed in shadow. "This is insane," she told her reflection, as if the other Scarlett might have a better suggestion.

The other woman just stared back at her.

"I could kill the witch. Kova failed, but I won't," she said. Then she raised an eyebrow at her reflection, making it clear they both knew she was full of it.

She had to know if the dreams meant anything. She had to know why Shoshanna's magic felt so light and warm. And she had to know what Kova meant when he said she could make things better.

And if she failed, then she would kill the witch and put an end to the confusion either way.