Chapter Two

The corporate office of Katya Grigorieva was located in an old brick building in Seattle's Pioneer Square. It was connected to various other buildings and residences via underground tunnels that the water vampire maintained with the help of earth vampires in her employ.

Carwyn walked through the tunnels, his amnis spreading out into the walls, the old mud, the broken logs and living things beyond the visible.

He was a creature of the earth, as connected to the ground beneath his feet as a tree or a grub. His head nearly brushed the top of the tunnel in places, and he had to duck as he walked through the narrow corridor.

The skylights that would illuminate the tunnels during the day—thick glass set into the modern sidewalks of the city—were dark at night, and rain dripped through the seams, dropping to the muddy floor where he walked.

The darkness matched his mood.

Carwyn reached the door that was the underground entrance to Katya's building and lifted his head to face the vampire security guard, a broadly built man with light brown skin, close-cropped hair, and an angular jaw.

"Father." The man nodded.

"Not a priest anymore, my boy." He'd been one for a thousand years, so he didn't judge the young vampire. He'd made his connections in the immortal world as a priest, and vampires weren't exactly known for keeping up with current events.

"Mr. Bryn." The vampire corrected himself. "Katya is expecting you."

The young vampire's energy sparked the image of green and growing things. Despite the man's curt voice and stoic expression, Carwyn sensed a kindred spirit.

"What's your name?"

The guard looked at him and frowned. "Jerome, sir."

"You're good," Carwyn said. "Your amnis touched mine nearly as soon as I entered the tunnel."

A slight flinch. "Thank you, sir."

"I didn't take it as a threat." The corner of Carwyn's mouth turned up. "It was a warning. Like a… polite knock."

Jerome nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"After all" —Carwyn stared— "we both know I could pull this entire building down on top of us if I wanted to."

"Yes, sir." Jerome didn't flinch. "But doing that might ruin that kick-ass Soundgarden T-shirt you've got going on."

Carwyn looked down at the T-shirt that peeked out from his heavy leather jacket. "It's vintage."

The guard lifted one shoulder. "Probably not a good idea to mess it up."

"Good point." Carwyn looked at the brick foundation sunk into the earth. "I suppose I'll spare the building for now."

"Much appreciated, sir."

Despite his foul mood, Carwyn couldn't stop from smiling. "Keep up the good work, Jerome."

"Thank you, sir." He opened the door and held it for Carwyn. "Have a good night, Mr. Bryn."

That's my father's name. He didn't say it. Humans in twenty-first century North America expected surnames, so he let it pass.

Carwyn's full name was Carwyn son of Bryn, patriarch of his clan, sired to the earth, immortal son of Maelona of Gwynedd, daughter of Brennus the Celt.

His sire was dead. His grandsire slept in a hidden mound somewhere in Scotland, and ever since the night over a decade ago when he left the service of the Catholic Church, Carwyn owed his allegiance to no man, woman, or immortal.

Except one fucking woman who was determined to drive him mad.

Someone had recently described Brigid Connor as "a badger trapped in a barn" and it wasn't an inaccurate comparison. She was stubborn, destructive, and single-minded. It made her a fierce protector, an absolute firecracker in bed, and one of the best vampires he'd known in a thousand years.

Of course he'd married her.

He emerged from the basement entrance to the modern lobby of Grigor Limited, one of Katya's many companies that she used to rule the Pacific Northwest. Carwyn lived in her territory through Katya's goodwill. If he was any other vampire, he'd have to swear some kind of allegiance to her because that was how vampire aegis worked.

Immortal predators weren't to be trusted with self-determination. If their kind had any kind of government, it was closer to ancient city-state fiefdoms than modern human states.

The guards in the lobby had clearly been told to expect him, and since he was well over six feet, built like a brick wall, and sporting a shock of unruly red hair, Carwyn was hard to miss.

He took the escalators built next to the elevators since vampires avoided elevators on principle. Carwyn was more grounded than most, but he didn't brag about that fact and tried to keep his profile the same as others of his kind.

Katya's office was on the third floor, and he spotted her secretary as soon as he reached the top of the escalator.

"Carwyn." The friendly woman stepped forward. She didn't extend her hand—most vampires avoided skin-to-skin contact with humans if they were polite—but she gave him a respectful nod. "She's ready for you."

"Thank you."

The door to Katya's office was open, and when he walked in, he saw the immortal leader of Northern California, Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska sitting by a fireplace, her stocking-clad feet tucked under her as she read a file.

"Hi." She glanced up. "I'm reading this incredibly boring business prospectus, so just have a seat." She motioned to the sofa across from her overstuffed chair. "Almost done."

"No problem."

Katya Grigorieva had been turned when she was barely an adult, but like Carwyn, she came from an age when humans matured faster. She looked like she was in her early twenties. She was blond, had large brown eyes, pale skin, and ruby-red lips. That night she was dressed in a pink fisherman's sweater and a pair of light blue jeans.

Carwyn stared at the fire, thinking about Brigid.

His mate was a fire vampire, sired during a heroin overdose. He tried not to think about the manner of his mate's turning because everything about it had been traumatic. She'd been a grieving human who made a massive lapse in her recovery and a horrid mistake that led to her mortal death and her immortal birth.

"Does the fire remind you of her?"

Carwyn looked over to Katya, who had set the file to the side. "Always."

"Fair enough." She sat up and crossed her legs in the wide chair where she sat. "Let's talk about Brigid and why I need her to kill Zasha Sokholov. And maybe Oleg too."

The secretary brought a French press filled with coffee into the corner office and set it on the table where Katya proceeded to push the plunger down and began to serve. "Cream? Sugar?"

"Cream, no sugar."

She pursed her lips. "I would have guessed sugar."

"Too sweet."

She looked up and winked at him. "But you are so sweet, Carwyn."

He growled, "You know better."

"I do know better." Katya handed him a heavy mug of fragrant coffee and smiled. "She thinks she's doing the right thing, you know."

He sipped the coffee, welcoming the bitter taste on his tongue. It matched his mood. "I'm sure she believes that."

"You don't think she can kill Zasha?" Katya raised an eyebrow. "Quite disloyal."

"Not disloyal." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Can we speak in confidence?"

"We only speak in confidence," she said. "Nothing I say to you leaves this office."

"Understood." He hesitated, still reluctant to question his mate in front of another vampire.

But Brigid was in Katya's territory, and she was hunting a vampire who had eluded immortals far older than his mate. "Zasha is stronger than Brigid."

Katya nodded. "Most likely, yes. They're much older, so that would make sense."

"They have better control of their element."

"Also likely, though Brigid's skills are impressive for a young vampire. On the other hand, I'd say Brigid is smarter and more clear-thinking than Zasha. Thinking wins battles. In my opinion, they are evenly matched."

Carwyn said nothing.

Katya continued. "You need to give her some credit. She's levelheaded and she has allies. That's more than Zasha has going for them."

Katya was probably thinking about Oleg. He was betting she didn't know that Tenzin was working with Brigid, and he wasn't going to tell her. He had no idea how Katya would react to a slightly sociopathic wind vampire flying around her territory—better not to bring it up.

Because Brigid needed Tenzin. As much faith as he had in his mate, Carwyn was terrified for her, and Tenzin was the one vampire he could think of who was as terrible as Zasha Sokholov.

Katya set her coffee to the side. "Since it's just the two of us, you know that I'm mated, correct?"

"I'd heard he's some vague relation to Leonora in Spain. Is that correct?"

"Very vague, very distant." She settled back into her chair. "Have you ever met him?"

"No."

"No, you have not." She smiled. "We prefer it that way. He hates events. Won't really participate in business. Doesn't like most vampires at all really."

Carwyn could almost feel his eyes glazing over. "That makes for a very boring eternity."

"And yet he is happy."

"How does he keep busy?"

"He's a remarkable artist who paints under various names that you've heard of, and he hires humans to take his place." She picked up her coffee. "Now you know more about my mate than ninety-nine percent of the world. You should be flattered."

"I am. Why are you telling me?"

"Because you didn't marry one like mine. You mated Brigid." Katya said. "You'd be bored if she was any different."

"She's trying to shield me from all this." His jaw twitched. "It's annoying."

"She's trying to shield everyone, not just you. So far over a dozen people that she interacted with personally have been killed by Zasha Sokholov. More injured. Dozens, maybe hundreds, traumatized. Everyone Brigid knows could be a target because for some reason this vampire has fixated on her. Why the hell do you think she went to the frozen north?"

"Because that's where Zasha is, according to rumors."

"Yes. And while normally one vampire killing another in my territory would be very much my business, I looked the other way when she went to Anchorage because I want Zasha dead, and I think she can kill them."

"…I need her to kill Zasha Sokholov. And maybe Oleg too."

Carwyn looked at Katya through narrowed eyes. "What's your conflict with Oleg?"

Katya pursed her lips. "How much do you know about Alaska?"

"Not much. I don't like the cold. I know that it's your territory."

"Yes. I acquired it about a hundred years ago. Before that, it was Oleg's."

"Why did it change hands?"

"He got distracted."

Fair enough. Carwyn only nodded.

Katya took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't spend much time in Alaska, but maybe that's been a mistake. The people who live there, mortal and immortal, they're… a different kind. Have you ever visited?"

"The only time the weather is tolerable in that place, the sun is out for twenty hours a day. What do you think?"

"I think that's the reason I don't go there much either."

"You'd think an environment like that would be a vampire wasteland."

"But it's not a vampire wasteland at all. This time of year, the place is practically crawling with our kind." She shrugged. "The lure of long nights, I suppose."

"And Oleg keeps men there. Even though it's your territory."

"He has several compounds that remain. Supposedly for his men. He calls them his fishing camps, and I let him keep them as a gesture of goodwill. It wasn't a violent handover."

"But you think they're outposts? Incursions?"

"Alaska may be a remote territory" —Katya's lips firmed into a line— "but it's a very profitable one."

"Is Oleg interfering in that profit?"

She leaned forward and refilled her coffee cup. "There have been some strange things going on. And Brigid may think Zasha is the root of all evil, but Zasha is a Sokholov. Just like Oleg."

Carwyn read between the lines immediately. "You think Oleg is working with Zasha?"

Katya shrugged.

"Why are you so suspicious of Oleg after a century of coexistence?"

"Because two of my fishing vessels and a private yacht owned by a very important vampire in my territory went missing in the Inside Passage this fall. That's the territory around Juneau that's a whole network of islands and inlets. Deepwater channels."

"Boats go missing sometimes." Carwyn shrugged. "Anything else?"

"Two immortal compounds have been attacked by unknown enemies—dozens of humans and vampire missing or dead."

That wasn't a missing boat. He could see Katya's barely hidden rage.

"And now Zasha Sokholov is rumored to be in the same territory as those thefts. I don't think this is a coincidence."

"I don't either, but why would you think Oleg and Zasha are working together? Oleg is the one who flew Brigid north so she could kill Zasha."

"Maybe Oleg means to let Brigid kill Zasha, then get rid of Brigid."

He wasn't a strategic mastermind, but that didn't make sense to Carwyn. At all. "What about the Athabaskan Confederation? Maybe the indigenous population wants the Russians out."

Her eyes turned hard. "If they did, I wouldn't fight them. If they expressed interest in the coast and the sea, I would hand over that real estate without a word. But they're earth vampires and they don't want the administrative hassle, so they leave it to me. They're part of the reason this territory is mine and not Oleg's. I offered them better terms."

"Fine," he said. "You mentioned attacks. Have the Athabaskans been attacked? Or coastal compounds only?"

"Only villages on the coast. And the ships. No one would be idiotic enough to harass the Athabaskan Confederation. Their people have survived in conditions that would kill ninety percent of our kind. If Oleg has a bigger obstacle than me, it's the Athabaskans."

"Don't mess with any vampire who hunts grizzlies for a light meal?"

"Exactly."

Carwyn asked the question he really wanted the answer to. "Do you know where Brigid is?"

Katya shook her head. "I have a rough idea of three places she could be around Seward and stretching down to Katmai, but those would only be starting points and it's a big territory, my friend."

He sat back and turned his eyes back to the fire.

"Maybe you're right about Oleg," Katya said. "Maybe I'm being too suspicious."

"I know I'm right about Oleg." That vampire was not working with Zasha. Carwyn didn't doubt Brigid's judgment even if he was angry with her. She wouldn't work with anyone who was allied with the enemy she'd vowed to kill.

Katya pursed her lips. "If you wanted to look into Oleg's activities for me, that would give you a very good reason to head north. I have a boat or two that could take you there."

"I don't need a reason to head north. I'm looking for my wife." But as much as he hated boats, they would be faster than driving through Canada. "I'll look into it if you want me to just to prove you wrong." And to keep Brigid from being caught in the middle of a vampire war.

"Fine. If you agree to look into these attacks and thefts, you have official permission to be in the territory."

He stood and carefully set his coffee mug on the table between them. "I'll look into it. But Katya, I wasn't really asking for permission."

As soon as Carwyn reached the nondescript rental house outside city limits, he walked inside, locked and secured everything, then pulled out the tablet in the locked bedroom.

"Cara, call Brigid."

The program automatically popped open, the screen a blank as the electronic chime trilled in the background. He paced in front of the screen, tearing off the jacket he'd worn to blend in and kicking off the shoes that covered his feet.

The program rang and rang. He was nearly ready to shut it off when the ringing stopped.

He froze and turned to the screen, bending down so his face was in the camera.

A black-and-white image of Brigid flickered onto the tablet, and Carwyn had to stop himself from weeping and shouting at the same time.

"Hello, darling girl." He bit down so hard he tasted blood. His fangs were out, and they shredded the skin on the inside of his lower lip.

Her eyes flickered to the camera, then looked away.

"Brigid, talk to me."

He heard her take a shuddering breath. "You're angry."

"I'm fucking furious. Look at me."

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and turned her face to the camera.

"Open your eyes."

Shattered whiskey brown singed by ashes. He could picture the color in his mind even though the camera leached it away.

"I won't say I'm sorry."

"Of course you won't." He braced his arms on the table, staring at her, examining her face for any sign of change. Was it fear that lined her eyes? She looked tired. Was that a burn mark on her cheek? "Where are you?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You won't tell me."

"I promised Oleg if he helped me, I wouldn't reveal locations."

"That bloody Russian bastard?—"

"He's helping me. He wants to take care of Zasha too."

"That's utter bollocks, Brigid. If Oleg wanted to kill Zasha, they would already be dead. He's a fire vampire too, and he's older than Zasha. He should be the one cleaning up his clan's mess, but instead, he wants to cover his ass with the others and let you do it." He had barely kept from shouting and throwing the tablet across the room. It was the first time she'd picked up his call since she'd left him in Las Vegas. It had been months since he'd seen her face.

"I want to do it." Her brilliant eyes turned hard. "For Lee. For Lucas. For Summer and Dani. And they're the ones who are still alive."

"Tell me where you are."

"I can't."

"Fuck!" he roared. "Brigid Connor, I am your mate!"

"I know." She was crying, and the tears dripped down her cheeks, turning to steam as they crossed her skin. "I'm sorry."

"Shhhh." He knelt down in front of the camera when he saw her skin starting to heat up. "Calm, darling girl. Be calm. I love you, Brigid. I love you so much."

"I love you so much it hurts." She nodded. "And I promise I'm not doing this alone. But I need to turn off the camera now."

"No no no no no." Carwyn pleaded with her. "I'm in Seattle. Give me a clue and I'll be?—"

"I have to go." There was shouting in the background, and she looked flustered. "I think I heard a gunshot, and I have a feeling I know why. Don't worry—I'm not in danger." She dashed the tears away. "I love you."

The screen went dark, and Carwyn had to resist the urge to fling it across the room, because if he wrecked that one, he didn't have another chance of seeing her until he hunted her down.

He walked outside into the pouring rain, his feet bare, and loosed his rage in a violent scream of elemental power he shoved into the earth behind the isolated house.

The ground rocked below his feet, but he felt the earth resist his amnis, unsure of what it all meant. This wasn't a place like California where the terrain was fluid and the faults were many. He could feel the old cracks deep below the surface, but they were sleepy, and the upper layers of rock and soil were wary to rouse them.

Carwyn let his amnis scatter along the surface of the ground, and the green lawn rolled like waves lapping at the shoreline while he gradually calmed the churning anger in his chest.

At least he'd seen her.

At least she was safe.

A sound like thunder echoed overhead, and a familiar thread of amnis hit the ground next to him like a lightning bolt a moment before a dark shape came shooting through the clouds, arrowing down to Carwyn's house.

The wind vampire's black clothes were dripping with rain, his hair was plastered to his face, and his eyes shot bolts of fury at the face of his old friend.

"Carwyn?" Ben Vecchio's voice was iced in anger. "Where the fuck is my mate?"