41. A New Plan

"With Leticia and St. Germain working against us, it's amazing we have any people left," Godfrey groused.

"Again, no idea on the rules, but couldn't you just do a new blood thing with your people to get them all back under your control?"

Godfrey grinned. "Yes, Sire, do a blood thing, would you?"

"The whole nocturne at once?" Clive sat at his desk. "I could, yes, but I'd essentially be in a coma afterwards." At my look of horror, he added, "Until the following evening or perhaps the one after that."

"Well, that's doable. I mean, we'll miss you, but it would be nice not to be attacked by our own people."

Clive checked his watch. "The sun will be up soon. When we wake, assemble the nocturne in the training room. I'll need all the novitiates present. I can't do this properly with bagged blood."

"There are currently only four novitiates. That won't be enough for a nocturne this size." Russell's gaze darted to me before returning to Clive. "Godfrey and I will go at sunset to secure more donors."

Nodding, Clive drummed his fingers on the desk. "Six. I'll need six more. Young, healthy."

Russell moved toward the door, Godfrey in his wake. "We'll leave you now, Sire, and tell the nocturne we'll be assembling this evening."

"We should find a frat party," Godfrey suggested as he left. "When they come to, they'll assume they got drunk and passed out."

Clive rose and took my hand. "Come. Let's get you cleaned up."

"You're kidnapping people to drain?" I snatched up my shoes before he pulled me toward the door. "No, no, no! Bad vampire!"

"Kidnapping, yes. Draining, no. I don't need to drink as much as I would if I were turning the living, but I do need to reestablish the blood bonds." We started up the stairs. "The people they secure for me will be paid well and their memories will be altered so they have no recollections of their evening."

"Super uncomfortable," I said as we crossed a landing.

"Your idea," he reminded me.

Once in the room, we went straight for the shower. I was a bloody mess. I had Clive return the jewelry to its boxes first and then I sadly pulled off what was left of my shredded dress.

Clive started the shower and was undressing as I stepped into the spray. Ah, it felt so good. Oh, damn. I'd forgotten the hairpins.

Clive brushed my hands away when I reached up to find them. "I've got it." It took him only a few seconds to find them all and then my hair was tumbling down.

We took turns washing and shampooing each other. It had been a scary night. The tending was necessary for both of us to settle. We were okay. Better than okay. When Clive held me, just held me, I understood how close he'd thought he was to losing me.

Lifting up on my tiptoes, I rained kisses on his wet face. "I'm all better."

"Only through the intervention of the fae queen." He crushed me in his arms. "Who was only aware of the problem because you crossed into Faerie and she decided to swap rings." He pulled back, framed my face with his hands. "What are the chances all of those pieces line up exactly as they did and lead to you standing here breathing?" He shook his head. "It's astronomical. In every other scenario, you die."

"But I didn't," I reminded him.

"But you could have," he said, expression stricken.

I grabbed his wrists and squeezed. "I can't guarantee I'll never die." When he opened his mouth, I plowed on. "But I can guarantee to do everything within my power to survive. There's no point in worrying over what might have been."

I pulled his hands down and clasped them. "My parents might have lived. I might have grown up in a loving, stable home. I might have gone to college. I might be in another city, starting a career. We might have never met."

I shrugged. "There are endless might have beens. What matters is this. We're here. We're alive. Ish. We're in love. And we're clean. So," I said, leaning into him, "what should we do to celebrate?"

Let it be known that Clive celebrated me into unconsciousness. My body was delightfully sore and still trembling with aftershocks as we both fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke the next day, I felt off. I'd slept well and yet my nerves were buzzing. Shit. Full moon. Part of me couldn't wait to shift to my other skin and hunt down a rabbit. The other part, though, worried about missing the blood thingy tonight.

It had to happen. Clive needed his people loyal. It meant, however, that I'd be without backup while we still had a predator circling our territory. Abigail knew my usual running spots, the Presidio and the North Bay woods.

I considered running on the beach, maybe taking a break and trotting up to the house Stheno and her sisters were sharing. Medusa would no doubt pour me a bowl of wine and I could hang with them before I got back to it. Grinning at the silly thought, I dressed and went downstairs.

As I was heating up a plate of enchiladas, I considered my options. Too many people could be found in Golden Gate Park at night. That wouldn't work. I could run laps inside the nocturne walls, but that sounded both sad and boring. I could—long, rolling fields of gravestones popped into my head. I could run in Colma. People didn't hang out in foggy graveyards at night.

I could undress and shift at The Wicche Glass. That way I wouldn't need to worry about racoons stealing a roll of clothes hidden in a bush. The damn little thieves had done it before. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it.

Me: Hello 1/3 of the Lush Sisters! How goes it? Have you killed each other yet? It's full moon, which means lots of furry running for me. If I'm still feeling energetic afterward, can I run by your place for a visit?

Stheno: Hell yes. Follow the smell of red wine and the sound of drunken singing. What time?

Me: No idea. Abigail (AKA psycho aunt) knows my usual spots. I think I'm going to run near The Wicche Glass. Being close to the dead makes me stronger. I'm wondering what that means for my other half.

Stheno: Don't trip on a headstone

Stheno: Wait. Aren't you supposed to have a guard with you?

Me: Normally, no. With all the craziness of the last couple of months, probably. But the vamps are busy tonight. I don't want to ask Owen or Dave. Abigail already screwed with both of them. No one but you knows where I'm going. If you promise not to rat me out, I should be fine.

Stheno: I can go with you.

Me: Thanks, but as neither of us drives, you'd have to jog with me ten miles each way.

Stheno: That's a hell no.

Me: That's what I thought

Stheno: Ask that harpy

Me: Fury. And a good idea. Hopefully, I'll see you later.

Stheno: Bring more wine.

When I was done eating, I walked through the library. Reconstruction had begun. Nerves jangling, fur pricking under my skin, I sat in the window seat, equal parts pissed off and sad. Abigail had taken The Slaughtered Lamb away from me again, this time by attacking my friends. Leticia and her bomb-wielding minion had taken away the library. Villains had no respect for books!

I pulled out my phone and dialed Meg.

"What?"

"Really? That's how you answer a phone?" What was it with ancient cranky people?

Click.

Jeez. Ask one question. I dialed her back.

The line opened but she said nothing.

Okey-dokie. "Meg, it's full moon. Can you hang out with me tonight?"

"Why would I need to do that?"

"Well, my aunt is still gunning for me, so…" I paused, remembering someone bigger and stronger had told her to step aside the last time I was being attacked. This was probably a bad idea. "I'd like someone nearby in case I'm ambushed. Only if you'd actually intervene, though. On my side, that is."

She made a click of annoyance in the back of her throat. "Where and when?"

"Do you know The Wicche Glass?"

"That fae bar in South San Francisco?"

"Colma, and yes. Can you meet me there tonight?" The fact that Meg could fly over the top of where I ran made her the perfect candidate for guard duty, if she'd do it.

"I'd heard it had closed. The owner died."

"Yes, that was my great-aunt Martha. It was horrible. Abigail and her demon killed her." Maybe this was a bad idea. Perhaps Coco would be willing to fly over the forest. Her other form would be a lot harder to hide than Meg's, though. "Never mind, Meg. I don't want to bug you. Have a good ni—"

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it. If your aunt knows about this place, why are you going there?"

"Open green spaces with little to no humans are hard to find. Abigail already knows about my usual spots. I've never run in Colma before, and the cemeteries back up on a state park."

"Fine." Click. Ever the charmer, that one.

Shaking it off, I walked out, jogged up the steps and back to our bedroom. Clive had said he felt a moment of panic every time he woke up and I wasn't there. With my scent in his head, he'd reach for me and find my side of the bed empty. If I was around at sundown, I liked to be there when he woke.

Kicking off my shoes, I snuggled up next to him on top of the comforter. Too restless to relax, I traced a finger down the planes of his gorgeous face, outlined his mouth.

"What are you doing?" He hadn't opened his eyes yet, but I felt his consciousness bloom to life in my mind.

"You're so pretty," I crooned.

Grinning, he rolled me over, his stormy gray eyes taking in every detail. "Handsome. I'm devastatingly handsome. I'm not pretty."

"Says you."

"You are a little spark plug of energy right now. You're practically vibrating. What—ah, full moon tonight."

I ran my fingers through his hair. "Yup. Much running on the agenda."

"Hmm, I think I can help take the edge off." He dragged his lips over my jaw and down my throat, letting his fangs glide over my skin. Trembling and needy, I flipped him, pinning him to the mattress and demonstrating the benefits of a werewolf mate. All that energy had to go somewhere.

Later, feeling great but definitely late, I put on running tights and shoes, with a long-sleeved tee.

"Where are you going? Your usual spots have been compromised." Clive slid into one of his millions of snow-white dress shirts, tucking it into charcoal gray slacks.

"Wicche Glass. I'll stash my stuff there and then run through the cemeteries and into the San Bruno State Park beyond it. I'll be fine and Meg said she'd keep an eye out."

Nodding, he stepped into his shoes. "Good. If Meg is guarding you, I won't worry."

"I'm the one who's worried. How dangerous is this vampy blood thing tonight?"

Shaking his head, he said, "That word."

"Blood? I thought you liked that one. Anyway, could you have Russell or Godfrey text me when it's done and you're okay?" I hugged him hard. "I know you said you'd be out of it by then, but I want to know as soon as I shift back that you're okay."

"As you like," he said, kissing the top of my head, "but you must do the same. I know you need to run, but I can't help thinking this is a bad time for you to be out running on your own."