Chapter 1
Chapter 1 May 5, 1843 Winter stepped out of the ramshackle tenement and across the uneven paving stones to the sidewalk in the quiet neighborhood Aiden had selected. He looked up and down the street but saw few people. Sunrise was only a couple of hours away. He felt both exhausted and so very alive. He was a vampire. Aiden had changed him into a vampire. When his father slipped away with his older brothers, Marcus, Rafe, and Beltran, he had begun to fear he would be excluded. That he’d be left human and alone. All in the name of protecting him and keeping him safe. Yet, the whole reason they’d waited until he’d reached the age of twenty-three was so they could stop protecting him and treating him like a child. A bit to his surprise, they’d come back for him. They were sticking together as they’d agreed. The early hours of the spring day were crisp and cool; a thin tendril of fog was winding its way through the city. There was a distant clomp of a horse’s hooves on stone, but the echo through the buildings made it hard to place its direction. Otherwise, the world was silent. There was a feeling more than any telltale sign that Aiden was approaching him. Winter turned in time to see the vampire exit the narrow alley they’d taken, slipping into the building containing a variety of rundown flats. His senses were so much…more now. It wasn’t just sharper eyesight or hearing. He could feel things. He was aware of Aiden differently now. His sire. There was an extra energy to him that pulsed out, and Winter could feel it. It was strange but oddly grounding and comforting as well. As if he were suddenly more connected to this man than he’d been before. Would it be the same for his brothers? Unfortunately, answering that question would have to wait until they returned to Marcus’s home. For now, it was just him and Aiden on the streets of London, not something his oldest brother was at all happy about. He had wanted to accompany Winter, but Aiden had insisted it be just the two of them for this first outing. And Winter had a very good guess as to why. With his surrogate father standing close by, Winter turned his attention to his surroundings. He closed his eyes and listened. But only silence could be heard. There was nothing. No little whispers. No laughing. No forlorn cries and little whimpers. There was the wind and the horses. The grind of wheels across stones. A cart, maybe. “Winter?” Aiden’s voice was low and cautious. A faint thread of worry. But Aiden had every right to be worried. He was the only one who knew that Winter, like his mother, heard voices. The question had been hanging in the air since the brothers made a pact years ago to become vampires: would Winter go insane just like their mother when he was turned? Now that moment was here. Winter’s heart was pounding so loud, his ears and his whole body had become one tensed muscle. His entire existence was balanced on the edge of a knife, all of it building to this. Were the voices that had cluttered up his mind for nearly twenty years still there? Was he going to go mad? Was he a threat to his family? He didn’t want to hope that the nightmare might finally be over. The dream of being free had lingered in his brain for years, but it had never happened, becoming a sharp, bitter disappointment. Protecting his brothers from his ugly truth had made him into a liar, putting a distance between him and his family that left an ache within him. And he wanted it all done at last. He didn’t want to be a liar. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. Aiden had insisted he accompany Winter without his family in case he—the youngest son—went mad. His father was determined to protect his brothers as well as Winter. He’d tried to convince Aiden for months now to end his life if the worst happened, but he’d begun to fear that Aiden had other plans. That he intended to safeguard Winter away from his brothers until another solution could be found. But Winter didn’t want to be a burden on his family in any way. He didn’t want the voices plaguing him any longer…even if it meant his own death. Second after blissfully silent second ticked by, and there was nothing. Hope rose in Winter’s chest, nearly choking him. He covered his mouth with his hand and blinked back tears of intense relief and joy. “I hear…nothing,” he whispered, dropping the hand he’d used to ward off Aiden. “Really?” Aiden demanded as air exploded out of his lungs. “There’s a horse. A cart or maybe a carriage. The wind. But our voices are the only ones I hear.” Aiden grabbed him suddenly and pulled him into a tight embrace. “That’s wonderful!” Winter gave a little laugh as he hugged Aiden, trying to breathe past the lump that had formed in his throat. Maybe, just maybe, he’d escaped the voices that had steadily followed him since childhood. The constant companions he could not see. He roughly wiped away unshed tears before he laughed and straightened as Aiden released him. The vampire had been the only father he’d known in his lifetime, the one person he’d whispered his secrets to. He’d always felt different from his older brothers. They were careful to include him, wanted to protect him. Yet something had always held him apart. Aiden helped get rid of that feeling. The vampire had never tried to coddle and wrap him in cotton. He always encouraged Winter to be bold and daring, but he also had a way of making Winter feel safe at the same time. There was a deep understanding in Aiden’s soft golden eyes, and nothing he said could ever surprise his father. Winter turned his head to gaze around the surrounding street, a little grateful that they were alone, so no one could wonder at their slightly mad laughing and hugging. He was free. Yes, he was now a vampire, and life would be forever different for him, but he had a second chance. He could finally focus entirely on his mother and brothers. He could be honest with them. He could— Every muscle in his body froze when his eyes fell on something…something so very strange. It was a woman in a fancy gown and an equally extravagant bonnet on her head. She was strolling down the street, with a parasol in one hand as if she were out for her afternoon walk, not seeming to care that it was nearly four in the morning. Oh, and the fact that she was quite clearly dead. Winter’s heart hammered in his chest for an entirely new reason. Relief was swept aside under a mix of shock and wonder. She was entirely white, and he could see straight through her. As she passed steps and a doorway, he could see them through her body. She was a ghost. A phantom. “What? What do you see?” Aiden demanded. Winter looked over at Aiden, taking in his worried gaze, and then at the woman as she continued her walk. “You don’t see her?” “Who? We’re the only ones out on the street.” “The only living people on the street,” Winter corrected, his voice low and a little shaky as his newfound hope drained out of him. “I…I can see the dead.” Had he just traded one trouble for another? His stomach churned, and he was lightheaded. How could this happen? He’d lost the bane of his existence and he was trading it in for what? Ghosts strolling through his life. Aiden followed Winter’s line of sight, staring at the distant sidewalk, but it was quite clear he didn’t see anything. When he met Winter’s gaze again, there was a deep sadness in his eyes, but his lips were pressed into a hard, determined line. “We should speak to your brothers.” “No!” Winter snapped. “Winter—” “Not yet, at least. They have enough to worry about with Mother. They’re still learning to be vampires. They don’t need to worry about me as well.” “They deserve to know.” “I’d agree if it meant they’d have to protect themselves from me or kill me, but I don’t think it will come to that.” Winter grabbed Aiden’s shoulders and placed himself directly in Aiden’s path. Desperation was nearly choking him. He’d been so close. The taste of freedom and hope was still on his tongue. He was not letting that go. Not yet. “Yes, I hear voices, like Mother, but I don’t feel particularly insane now. I don’t feel like you’re attacking me or want to hurt me. I don’t want to hurt my brothers. I’m still me, Aiden.” “And you will always be my Winter, but this…and so soon…” Aiden’s gentle voice drifted. Pain and fear filled his eyes. “Maybe it’s my vampiric gift?” Winter suggested, but Aiden didn’t appear convinced. Not that he could blame him. A vampire’s special gift typically didn’t appear for several months, if not years. Yes, there were exceptions, but it didn’t help that Winter had been hearing voices before he’d been turned. “I’m worried about you. I only want what’s best for you,” Aiden said carefully. He cupped the side of Winter’s head, sadness still scrawled across his face. His father had already suffered the loss of Julianna Varik, the love of his life, to violent madness. Winter knew if he lost him as well, it would kill Aiden. “Winter, I would never hurt you. You’re my beloved son. We’ll protect you, always.” He meant like they protected Julianna, safeguarding her from the world as well as protecting the world from her. It wasn’t what Winter wanted. “I know, but let’s wait for a little while. We’re all still getting accustomed to this new life. We must figure out this feeding thing. And the sunlight.” A hint of a smile teased the corner of Aiden’s mouth, but it didn’t clear away the concern. “You don’t have to figure out the sun. You just stay out of it. Very simple.” Winter gave a little roll of his eyes. “Yes, but we’re quite accustomed to conducting our daily lives in the sun. We’ll need to figure out how to do all our normal things after the sun has set. And then there are other things we need to work on, I’m sure. Like other vampires.” “Stay away from other vampires,” Aiden said sharply. Winter’s smile grew. “See? We have plenty of things we need to worry about.” “You mean other than the fact that you can see the dead.” Winter gave a dismissive wave of his hand, shoving away his own rising worries. “Just a trifle.” He refused to let Aiden see his fears, not that he wanted to start keeping secrets from him. But if his father was convinced that he was sliding down the slope to madness, he’d spill everything to his brothers. No, Winter could handle this, alone if necessary. Vampirism meant having the strength and powers needed to protect his family. A new worry might have started to dog him, but he was also incredibly stubborn when he needed to be. This development was not going to stop him. He might never close the distance between him and his brothers, but he could at least protect them. Aiden groaned, but he wrapped his arm around Winter’s shoulders, pulling him against his taller frame. “You and your brothers are going to be the death of me.” “Pfft…you told me vampires were made of much sterner stuff than humans.” “Yes, and it shows just how troublesome the Varik brothers are. I don’t know how your mother managed to raise you on her own.” It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Aiden that their mother was quite mad, but it didn’t seem like a good time or a tasteful joke, considering his father was now concerned with the same madness running through Winter. “We had a steady stream of tutors passing through our home to help keep us in line,” Winter said instead. “If only there were tutors in vampirism,” Aiden bemoaned, but there was a lightness in his eyes that was now chasing away the sad. Winter bumped him with his shoulder. “You wouldn’t miss training your new fledglings,” he teased. Aiden’s smile grew. “Not for anything in this world or the next.” He gave Winter’s shoulder a squeeze before releasing him. “We should return to Marcus’s house. I’m sure your brothers are anxious to see you and share in your first night as a vampire.” “Yes, but I want to check something quickly.” Winter jogged down the sidewalk, the hard soles of his shoes slapping along the paving stones until he was ahead of the woman ghost. He crossed the street and stood in front of a closed business. He took a second to straighten his jacket and touch his hair, making sure it was still tied back. It seemed a little ridiculous to worry about his appearance with a ghost, but they were well beyond the normal and mundane at this point. When she reached where he was standing, he bowed his head to her and said, “Good afternoon.” It was a small, simple gesture. The same thing he’d do if he’d passed someone he had a passing acquaintance with in the park. He held his breath, half convinced she would not even notice him. But to his shock, her phantom lips quirked in a small smile and she bowed her head to him. There was a slight movement of her lips, and a heartbeat later he heard, whispered in his head, “Good afternoon.” She saw him. She knew he was there, and she spoke to him. And her voice, the way it drifted so lightly through his brain, it was just like the voices he’d grown up hearing. He’d never been sure where the voices were coming from, but now it was quite clear he’d been hearing the whispers of the dead. The only difference now was that as a vampire, he could see them as well. The ghost continued on her leisurely stroll as if it wasn’t the most life-shattering moment in the world. Hell, maybe the ghost spoke to the living all the time. Interesting. He wasn’t quite sure what he could do with this just yet. It meant the voices weren’t necessarily gone. Just now clearly linked to something. Plus, he could speak to them. He’d tried a couple of times when he’d been a child to talk to the voices when he’d been alone, but they’d never answered his questions. Maybe something had changed now that he’d died and been reborn. Did this mean he could possibly use the ghosts in some way? “Well?” Aiden inquired. Winter jumped and frowned at his father. “I’ll answer that question when you promise to teach me to be sneaky like you.” Aiden chuckled. “I don’t have much to teach you, beyond the fact that most people aren’t paying attention to their surroundings.” Winter huffed a laugh. Aiden had a point. He’d been completely caught up in his brief but monumental interaction with the ghost. He hadn’t been paying attention to Aiden or anything else. “She saw me. Spoke to me. Just as normally as I’m talking to you now.” “Interesting.” “And she didn’t even seem surprised by it.” “Winter.” Aiden’s voice dropped to a warning tone. The new vampire held up his hands, halting anything else Aiden might have tried to say. “Time. I’m only asking for time. Let me explore this. The voices I’ve been hearing are apparently from the dead. Maybe they will ignore me. That ghost would have been happy to ignore me completely.” “And you’d prefer it if I didn’t mention anything to your brothers, right?” “Yes, please. We have enough to worry about with the vampirism and Mother. I don’t want to put more on their shoulders until we know we have something to worry about. Please, Aiden.” “On one condition: You tell me everything. You hide nothing from me.” “I will. I promise.” Aiden sighed. He didn’t look happy about it, but after a couple of seconds, he nodded. Winter hugged him tightly, and Aiden growled as he returned the embrace. “It’s not just about protecting your brothers. I want to keep you happy and safe as well.” “I know. It’ll be okay. I promise.” And if it wasn’t, Winter swore he would take care of the problem himself. He would not burden his brothers with ending his life to protect them and the world from the violence he could unleash.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2 May 16, 2020 Winter cursed himself, the sun, and the assholes chasing him through the parking lot. This was fucking ridiculous. How the hell had they spotted him in the first place? He’d probably done the hoodie and jeans bit a little too much over the past several years. The weather was growing warmer, and the teens he was accustomed to blending in with were in shorts and T-shirts. Not the best clothes when he was trying damn hard to disappear into the background. The problem was that his black hair, blue eyes, and sharp features too clearly marked him as a Varik. Not that he wasn’t proud to be a Varik, but it certainly made it harder for sneaking in the vampire world. Like tonight. Cutting hard to the left, Winter narrowly missed a car turning down the aisle in search of an open parking spot. Behind him, he could hear the thunder of three sets of shoes pounding on the pavement. He needed to find cover. He could take out the vampires chasing him, but being outnumbered three-to-one meant he couldn’t do it in a straight fight. The only way he’d survive would be to pick them off one at a time. And it would be even better if he could remind them that he was the boogeyman of the vampire world. With one eye on the cars moving about in the parking lot, he turned the other eye on the shops. It was nearly ten in the evening, and his selection was getting slim for a Saturday night. Lights were dim in a lot of the smaller retail stores, but his gaze caught on an interesting two-story building still brightly lit. A sporting goods store. Oh, this could be lots of fun. Inside the store crowded with equipment and clothing, he’d be able to break their line of sight at last. If they lost him for only a moment, he’d be able to use his power. His brothers thought of it as simply disappearing. Well, they had until he’d pulled Bel into his gift in an experiment with his wolves a couple of months ago. Now his brothers were starting to understand the truth. Winter didn’t become invisible; he parted the veil that separated this world from the world of the dead. The dead world was a mirror copy of the world of the living. But there, the living took on the appearance of ghosts and couldn’t see Winter. Couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t touch him. And according to Bel’s werewolves, they couldn’t smell him. It was the perfect way to keep an eye on all the people who wished to hurt his family. But there was a price that came with using his powers: The dead noticed him while he was in their world, and it seemed like the dead who drifted through the world of the living noticed him more when he made frequent trips past the veil. Not that it mattered whether he used his gift or not. The dead always liked talking to him, as if he could do something about their plight. But the dead were not his main concern at this moment. No, he was more worried about the three undead bastards chasing him. Someone had apparently noticed him nosing around Christopher Heller’s lair. The Ministry member had increased his security more than Winter had been anticipating, and someone had spotted him. Fuckers. It had been only a matter of time, though. Christopher Heller and Paavo Wetzel had aligned themselves with Damon James, easily the most powerful vampire left on what had been the Ministry. But the ruling body of the vampire world was no more—they weren’t even going through the motions. Damon had all but declared himself emperor, king, and dictator of all vampires in the Americas, and no one was arguing with him yet. For now, the Variks were gathering their army to stand against the ruthless monster, and part of Winter’s job was gathering intelligence on Damon’s confederates. They had to know what Damon’s resources were. The vampire wasn’t going to simply challenge Aiden to a duel. Damon was too much of a coward for that and, as Winter was quickly learning, his sire was much older than he’d previously let on. Damon was no match for Aiden, and he knew it. That left the would-be king scrambling for some edge over the Variks, and Winter was determined to uncover what Damon had found. But if he was going to do that, he needed to be far more careful. Winter slowed his pace as he reached the automatic doors that soundlessly slid open at his approach. He paused in the entrance of the store, eyes sweeping over the line of cashiers to his right. In the middle of the store was a pair of escalators leading to and from the second floor. Racks and racks of clothes filled the first floor, but the clothing on the left ended in what looked to be the camping section at the rear of the store. Smiling, Winter took off at a jog, heading for the taller rows filled with tents and other random gear—that area would have lots of fun toys he could use. As he moved, he looked over the store. He counted only three employees leisurely making the rounds, putting goods where they belonged and generally tidying things up before they closed. Two shoppers strolled among the sports equipment, and he could only assume similar numbers were up on the second floor. If he worked quickly, no one would notice him. Glancing over his shoulder, toward the entrance, he saw the three vampires run into the store and pause, but they had yet to see him. Excellent. Walking farther down the aisle, Winter called on his power. It came so easy now after the long years, almost like flexing a muscle. Before him, a dark slit appeared in the air, running from about the top of his head to the ground. With a slight wave of his hand, the opening widened, and thick darkness poured out. There was no hesitation as Winter stepped inside and closed the slit behind him. The darkness retreated, and his eyes adjusted to the new world around him. This gift was one of his greatest secrets. Besides his family, the rest of the vampire world didn’t know he could essentially become invisible, and it was critical for it to stay that way. So much of his dark reputation was tied to his mystery and how he simply managed to appear out of thin air. While he might have spotted ghosts walking on the streets his first night as a vampire, his ability to slip easily into their world hadn’t kicked in for another several years. But even with the delay, he’d had plenty of practice walking here. He felt at home among the dead as much as he did with his brothers. Looking around, he took in the usual pale glow that emanated from his surroundings, as if things in the living world took on a sort of heavenly inner light that beat back the overall darkness. As a creature that was still part of the living world, he couldn’t move through objects like the ghosts could, nor could he pick things up, which was more than a little annoying. With one eye out for the vampires, Winter hurried through the aisles, glancing over the various objects on display for sale. There had to be something interesting here to use against his pursuers. There were only a couple of ghosts moving through the store. One actually appeared to be a woman fresh off a jog looking through the racks of yoga pants. He tried to move away from her, but she caught sight of him. “Excuse me!” she called loudly. “Excuse me, do you work here?” “No, I’m sorry I don’t,” Winter said solemnly. She made a noise that was part sigh and part growl. “It’s like we’re the only ones in the store. I can’t find anyone to let me in a dressing room.” Winter gave a little nod to acknowledge her before quickly turning down another aisle. Sometimes the dead didn’t realize they had passed on. He wondered if maybe she’d suffered a heart attack while jogging and just continued to the store following death. Others realized and pleaded with him to help them, but there was nothing he could do. All that unfinished business talk was bullshit. It didn’t matter if they accomplished one last deed or not, they moved on eventually to whatever came after this place. Some held on longer than others, but in the end, they all faded. Pausing at an endcap, Winter spotted one vampire sprinting up an escalator to the second floor while another cut to the right side of the store. The last vampire was working his way down the aisles closest to the camping supplies. Winter smirked and hurried ahead of him. He stopped and opened the doorway between worlds just enough to stick his hand through. Snatching up a long bundle of rope, he pulled it back inside and closed the opening again. He repeated the action, grabbing a large knife and a hatchet. Yes, this was just perfect. With his weapons tucked around his body and rope slung over his shoulder, he cautiously circled to where the vampire was still creeping through the left side of the store. It was easy enough to move behind the man since he was invisible to him. The vampire was a large brute with a shaved head and tattoos across his throat. The creature didn’t feel as if he were more than a couple of decades old as a vampire. Practically a baby. Winter almost felt guilty about what he was going to do. Almost. But any guilt was easy to shove aside since he knew these fucks were plotting to kill his family. He just needed to get a little information first. Slipping behind the vampire, Winter opened the doorway again and grabbed a fistful of the man’s shirt before pressing the point of the knife against his back. “What the fuck?” the bastard snarled. “You’re coming with me,” Winter whispered. He pulled the man until he was in the dead world and closed the opening behind him. This wasn’t the most comfortable thing to do—it required more energy to keep the other vampire held in this world. It was as if the dead knew he didn’t belong here and the energy in the world kept trying to spit him out. “Wh-what…what the fuck? What did you do?” the vampire stammered. “I brought you to my world,” Winter replied with a little chuckle. “I hear you want the Variks dead.” “Your clan is destroying our kind,” the vampire spit out, but there was still a little waver to his voice. “Unlike Damon, who wants to set vampires loose on all of humanity like a horde of locusts.” “We’re predators. Humans are prey.” “And Damon is insane,” Winter muttered. He released the vampire and allowed him to stumble away. Baldy bounced off the nearest shelf with enough energy to impact the living world, rattling the displayed items slightly. “Damon’s not crazy.” His eyes darted from Winter and looked around him, taking in his new surroundings and possibly looking for an escape route. “He’s going to be king. The prophecy said so.” Winter grinned and started to stalk his new plaything. He didn’t have a lot of time. He was growing weaker by the second, but at least he didn’t have to worry about the other vampires finding them. “Yes, the prophecy. I heard someone mention the prophecy inside of Christopher’s lair. Tell me about this prophecy.” “Fuck you!” Baldy snapped. He slowly backed away from Winter, his hands opening and closing at his sides. “Tell me, and you might get out of this alive.” “No! There—” Whatever he was about to say was cut off with a startled scream when he spotted the ghost jogger across the store. “That’s a fucking ghost!” The woman looked up and threw him a disgusted look before going about her business. “Yes, we’re dead here,” Winter murmured. “Dead? I’m not dead! I’m a vampire! I’m not dead!” Winter chuckled. “You’ll stay dead if I don’t release you. Now start talking.” Baldy’s gaze jumped to the ghost again and then to Winter. “A witch…a witch will bring the downfall of the Varik clan. A witch has the key to changing our world.” “A witch?” There was no keeping the skepticism out of his voice. Like his brother Bel, Winter had trouble believing in witches. He’d known of only one witch—Zelda—and he’d never actually met her. Just heard stories of her. And there was never any mention of her performing any magic. Just a little so-called prognostication, and even that was so vague it was practically useless. But then, just a couple of years ago, he would have said there was no such thing as werewolves, and now Bel was mated to two of them. “Yeah, a witch.” “And does Damon have the witch?” Baldy’s face split into an evil grin. “Yes,” he hissed. Well, that was all Winter needed to know. There was no doubt he could learn more about Damon’s witch and the prophecy—either at the Ministry leader’s manor or possibly at Paavo’s. It was enough of a starting point. Winter watched the other vampire for a moment as his eyes still desperately searched for some escape. “Last chance. Are you going to walk away from this? Leave Christopher and Damon?” “Never!” Baldy snarled. “Yeah, I thought so.” There was a weariness to his tone he didn’t much care for. While Marcus had become the family’s advocate and negotiator, Winter had become its executioner. He was becoming very tired of that role. But he was also very good at it. Palming the knife from his side, Winter surged while the vampire’s attention was on the ghost, plunging the wicked blade deep into the vampire’s chest, straight through his heart. Baldy gasped and stared at the knife in shock while the ghost woman screamed and ran from the store. Even in death, she couldn’t escape the ugliness of the living. The violent stab wound wouldn’t be enough to end the vampire’s existence. With time and fresh blood, he would be able to heal from it. Winter pulled the knife from Baldy’s chest, a great sucking sound accompanying it. The vampire cried out and made a feeble grab for him, but Winter dodged the hand and slashed across his throat, opening up critical arteries. Blood gushed from the vampire. He stumbled, knocking into the shelves as he tried to get away from Winter. But he was weaker, and nothing moved. Blood poured down his chest and onto the floor, but it wouldn’t leak into the living world until Winter released him from this one. Winter tucked the blade away and methodically pulled the rope from his shoulder, loosening it from its loop. God, he was getting tired. He needed to work faster. Baldy collapsed to his knees, choking on the blood. His skin was already turning pale; he didn’t have much time left. Pausing, Winter looked around the store. He needed just the perfect spot. Something dramatic. Something that would leave a proper impression. Remind the other vampires exactly who they were attempting to fuck with. Winter’s eyes fell on exactly what he needed, bringing a smile to his lips. He strode over to Baldy, grabbed the vampire by the back of the shirt, and dragged him across the floor. Working quickly, he wrapped the rope around him and then tied him to the railing. The vampire fought him for only a moment, hatred and fear burning in his brown eyes. Once Baldy was secured, Winter slashed him again across the throat, severing arteries he missed with the first cut. The last of the life flowed from the vampire’s eyes, and a wet gasp left his parted lips. He was nearly gone. Winter opened the veil between worlds around the vampire and reached through to hit a couple of buttons on the scissor lift, sending it up toward the ceiling. A sigh of relief tumbled from Winter’s lips as the added weight of Baldy entered the living world, leaving Winter feeling more balanced. Stepping back, he watched from the dead world as Baldy rose into the air, his arms tied to the railing of the lift and his feet dangling toward the ground. Blood rained down onto the linoleum in a steady patter. It was a terrible, gruesome sight, but as screams of horror started to echo through the store, he was sure it was leaving the proper impression. It was a shame the humans had to find it. They’d briefly be left with a mystery they’d never be able to solve. They’d never find the murder weapon or where the man had been initially attacked. And after the vampire cleaners were done, they’d even lose the body. But the important thing was that his world would see the warning. He watched as the two other vampires caught sight of their dead friend. They paled and huddled close, swearing at the Variks and even Damon. They complained they should never have chased Winter Varik. Should never have listened to Christopher. With any luck, they’d leave the area and stay out of the coming war. “You killed me,” Baldy said in a kind of disbelieving wonder. Winter turned his head to look at the new ghost standing beside him, looking up at the fresh corpse. He could see the confusion turning to anger. “You fucking killed me!” Winter shrugged. “You planned to kill me.” Turning, he headed toward the front of the store. He needed to get home, make plans, contact Aiden about this prophecy nonsense. His family needed to be protected. “You fucking killed me!” Baldy screamed. He swung at Winter, but his meaty fist went completely through Winter’s shoulder. There was a cool, tingling sensation. Otherwise, he felt nothing. He swung again and again as he jogged to keep up with Winter, but he never truly made contact. “How the hell do I get out of here?” Winter paused at the automatic doors and frowned. The damn sensors didn’t register him, so they wouldn’t open, but he didn’t want to step back into the living world and risk anyone spotting him. He waited for someone to run into the store. Luckily, a patrol car had been close, and a pair of cops came charging in, giving Winter the opening he needed to leave. “How do I get out of this place?” Baldy demanded, sounding more afraid than angry. “You don’t. You’re dead.” And if there was even a chance of this prophecy being true, he was going to make sure this fucking witch joined Baldy in death before she had a chance to threaten the Variks.
Chapter 3
Chapter 3 Winter could never quite explain the feeling that came over him every time he walked into Marcus’s house. A deep sense of calm. Belonging. Something he needed after the fight in the sporting goods store earlier that night. He’d not lived with Marcus in nearly seventy years, but his home still enveloped him, welcomed him, whenever he walked inside. Maybe it was the same rugs and framed paintings that had greeted him while he’d lived there. Maybe it was that carved marble jaguar, poised to pounce, always in the same spot in the foyer. His brother’s home had suffered two separate attacks in the past year, but he’d somehow managed to not lose many valuable items. A few vases, a painting or two, but much of his home was the same as it had always been. Marcus was a creature of habit and routine, which gave him a sense of control when there was so much in their lives he couldn’t control. Like their mother and the Ministry. But for as boring as it all seemed, Julianna Varik had been at her calmest when she lived with Marcus. Even if she’d complained of the tedium of living with Marcus, the predictable rhythm had been something her fractured mind could rely on. Sighing, Winter shut the front door behind him and tried to shake off those thoughts. It was the one bad thing about Marcus’s home. Julianna Varik. There was no escaping her memory. Or her ghost. Julianna Varik was still there. He tried to avoid looking at her, but his eyes always rebelled against his wishes and were drawn to her. Since her death, her ghost was almost always in the same spot at the far end of the foyer, near the doorway to a little-used parlor. With no one around, Winter paused and stared at her for several seconds. He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d died. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but rather he was afraid once he started, there would be no stopping the outpouring of anger and hatred he felt toward the woman. She needed to answer for the pain she’d caused his brothers, the blood she’d spilled. But there was no point. Shouting at a ghost would change nothing. He had more important things to worry about now. With his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, he buried those old feelings down deep as he wandered into the library, where he was shocked to find only Beltran and River. Usually Winter was the last to arrive at any family meeting. “Winter!” River exclaimed with his typical boyish enthusiasm, bringing a smile to Winter’s lips. It was impossible not to like River Varik. The young werewolf was playful, snarky, and embraced a joy for life. It also didn’t hurt that he was incredibly protective of Bel. The werewolf jumped up from where he’d been sitting on the couch with his mate and rushed over to Winter’s side. He barely had time to brace himself for another one of River’s rib-crushing hugs. Werewolves were incredibly affectionate once they decided they liked you. Something Winter was still getting used to. “Good to see you too, River,” Winter said awkwardly, lightly embracing him while Bel cackled from across the room. River released him, a teasing smile on his lips, as if he knew how Winter struggled with the hugs. Of course, if he told River to stop, the werewolf would, but Winter didn’t want him to stop. Didn’t want him to alter a damn thing about who he was. River and Bel’s other werewolf mate, Wyatt, had suffered too much in their long lives. They were finally happy, forming their own pack with a vampire. Winter wanted them to embrace every joyous moment in their new life together. “Where’s Wyatt?” “He and his brother went to visit their sister,” Bel said as River walked over to the couch and flopped down on the cushions, so he was practically sitting on Bel. “David from the Montgomery clan?” Bel nodded. “It will be the first time he’s seen Casey in years. He wanted Wyatt there with him.” Winter rubbed his forehead. It was a bit of a mess to take in. After Wyatt had come out to his pack about a dozen years ago, he and River had been exiled, and Wyatt’s family had been forced to scatter. It was only in the past couple of months that they discovered Wyatt’s sister Casey was living with the werewolf pack in the area while his brother David was mated to the leader of the Montgomery vampire clan. “Any news from the Montgomery clan?” Bel shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. David only popped in for a moment to pick up Wyatt on their way to my house.” “You mean the hole in the ground,” River muttered. Bel threaded his fingers through River’s hair, brushing it from his face with a patient smile. “It’s more than a hole. The first floor has walls now.” Winter wandered over to the chair and dropped into it, barely holding back a smirk. “Marcus’s house getting too crowded? I thought werewolves liked living with big families.” River sent him a dark look. “It’s not bad living here. Ethan and Gideon are fun. Aiden is nice. Marcus is…serious.” Winter snorted. “Yeah, Marcus has always been serious.” “I just want our home,” River complained. Bel wrapped an arm around his lover and pulled him in tight. “Soon. The builder said only three more months, and they should be done.” Winter swore he could see longing in his brother’s eyes even while he tried to cheer up River. Bel likely wanted to get back to the life he’d been building with his wolves as well. The former leader of the local werewolf pack had attacked Bel’s house during the day, setting it on fire. It was the stuff that comprised Winter’s worst nightmares. At the time, he’d been in a place where he couldn’t safely leave during the day to reach his brother. Panic and anger had nearly eaten him alive as he’d counted each fucking second until the sun set. Bel, Wyatt, and River had barely escaped, retreating to Marcus’s home to heal. Months later, Bel was determined to rebuild his house on the same plot of land. Stubbornness was definitely a family trait, and Bel would not be run from his home. “Speaking of, Rafe is usually late, but where are Ethan, Aiden, and Marcus?” “Rafe is getting things settled at Blush. I think he’s coming alone and should be here shortly. There’s some kind of big party, and Philippe is staying behind to oversee things until Rafe returns,” Bel said, referring to his twin’s nightclub. “Ethan is finishing up an online class. Aiden and Marcus are talking about whatever they talk about,” River added. “River, why don’t you go get the new guitar that arrived?” Bel said before brushing a kiss against his mate’s temple. “I know Winter would love to see it.” Not subtle. Not subtle in the least, but he could guess what was on his brother’s mind. “Please,” Winter added. “I haven’t picked up a new one in years. I think my collection is getting dusty.” River sniffed, not at all fooled, but he still rose. “Sure, but you owe me a look at this so-called collection one day.” “Definitely.” River pressed a quick kiss to Bel’s lips and strode out of the library, whistling some random tune to himself. Bel smirked and rolled his eyes. “They keep you on your toes,” Winter teased. “You have no idea.” Winter automatically held up one hand. “I don’t want to know.” Bel chuckled lightly, but Winter was dead serious. He loved his brothers and was incredibly happy they had found love. Their mates were good people. But Winter had no hopes of finding love himself. His life was too complicated, and he was just hard to love. All he wanted was peace. “Do you still see her?” Bel asked the moment they were alone. Winter didn’t need to ask who Bel was referring to. When Winter had pulled his brother into the dead world in their little experiment, Bel had unfortunately caught sight of their mother’s ghost. It had been a shock to see her outside Marcus’s foyer. He didn’t know why she’d gone into the woods that night with them, but he could have done without it. “Occasionally,” he admitted. Not exactly a lie. “You need to tell the others.” “Why?” “Why?” Bel repeated like he’d lost his mind. “Because they deserve to know.” “To know what?” Winter snapped. He shoved upright in the chair until he was balanced on the very edge of the cushion. “To know that I see our mother’s ghost? She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have some great wisdom to impart. She’s dead. What you saw is just a pale echo of the woman we once knew.” “I know,” Bel said softly, and Winter instantly felt like an ass. “She’s not coming back. I just didn’t expect to see her. I thought…I thought she’d be at peace.” “I think she is.” “Really?” Winter shrugged. “You saw her. She was smiling. Every time I see her, she’s smiling.” Bel’s shoulders slumped a little as he fell into thought. Winter knew this wasn’t the end of it. Bel was a scientist at heart. He had to study and analyze everything. “You called it ‘the dead world.’ That place you took us,” Bel started slowly. “She’s not the only ghost you’ve seen.” He nearly smiled at his brother, the first to uncover part of his truth. He was putting the pieces together fast, but Bel didn’t need to know more than he already did. Unfortunately, he would have to tell Bel something, or his brother would keep pushing. He’d also tell their other brothers, and this was not what the family needed to focus on right now. “No, she’s not the first ghost I’ve seen. Won’t be the last either,” Winter admitted. “Do you see any now?” Winter let his eyes drift away from his brother. There was one older gentleman scanning over the books that lined Marcus’s shelves while another woman was yelling at him in what sounded like German. He was naked while she was dressed in what looked like an old robe. A child sat on the floor near Bel’s feet, playing with a ghostly set of jacks. Happily, they all seemed oblivious to him. It was harder to pretend they weren’t there when they were determined to get his attention. “A few.” To Winter’s surprise, Bel didn’t appear excited by the prospect, but more worried. He chewed on his bottom lip for a second. “You saw Julianna, so I know you don’t think it’s a hallucination. I’m not crazy,” Winter snapped. “Of course not!” Bel gasped. He sounded insulted at Winter having even suggested it. “I’m worried. Why didn’t you tell any of us? We thought it was just disappearing. You were turning invisible, bending the light or something. This is completely different!” There was the distant sound of footsteps on the stairs and voices in conversation. Aiden and Marcus were approaching, and Rafe would be likely arriving at any moment. He needed to end this now. Shoving to his feet, Winter hurried over to the couch and dropped down next to Bel. He placed his hand over his brother’s wrist and squeezed. “I didn’t mention it because it’s complicated to talk about. Death is uncomfortable, and I don’t want our brothers getting their hopes up about talking to Julianna. Marcus is happy. You’re happy. Rafe is happy. And most importantly, I think Aiden has found some peace and happiness. I don’t want to take that from him.” Bel sighed and laid his free hand over Winter’s. “I know. I don’t want Aiden dredging up old pain or guilt either. But what about you? Do they ever bother you? Can they see you?” Winter shoved down a curse. Time was running out. “I’m fine, I swear. And I’d prefer it if the rest of our family doesn’t find out about this. We have bigger problems right now.” “I’m no fool, Winter Varik.” “I never said—” He started to deny, but Bel quickly cut him off. “No, but you’re trying to treat me like one. I’ll leave you to your secrets for now, but you’re on borrowed time. The second this Damon and Ministry nonsense is taken care of, you and I are having a very long chat.” “For science?” Winter teased. It was Bel’s favorite argument for digging into anything or even when it came to sampling a bit of blood for his experiments. “No, because you’re my goddamn brother, and I’m worried.” Bel’s angry words slammed into Winter’s heart, almost knocking the breath from his lungs. An unexpected lump formed in his throat, and Winter had to look away from Bel before his brother saw how deeply touched he was. He knew his brother cared, but it was different when Bel looked as if he meant to shake him out of love. Too often the Varik brothers overlooked how overprotective and astute their mad scientist was. It was too easy with his adorable ties, boisterous laugh, and scientific babble, but there was a hard spine of steel that ran through Bel. He fiercely loved and protected his family. Winter shocked Bel by wrapping his arms around him in a brief but tight hug. “We’ll talk,” Winter whispered and there was a small part of him that prayed they did have that chat. After nearly two centuries, Winter yearned to finally shed this secret, to share it all with his family. For it all to be finally done. But not yet. Not until he was sure they were all safe. He rose from the sofa just as Aiden and Marcus entered the room, followed by Ethan and River. The werewolf had a beautiful guitar cradled in front of his body. “Winter, we didn’t know you were here,” Aiden said with a welcoming smile. “Just arrived. River was promising to show me this beauty,” Winter replied smoothly, holding his hands out as he walked toward the werewolf. And it truly was a beauty. The Gibson SJ-200 was a classic guitar, the kind that had been held by countless talented musicians over the years. Winter had at least two in his collection, but River held something a little above the average. The vintage sunburst seemed to glow with life, and the floral engraved scratchplate gave the guitar an extra touch of elegance. “You really like it?” River asked as he handed it over. “Definitely. This is a real treasure,” Winter murmured as he carefully cradled the instrument in his hands. All the Varik children played instruments, but it had taken Winter a few tries to find his true calling. He’d tinkered with the piano and flute for a few years, but he was finally drawn to the guitar. There was nothing like making it sing for him, whether acoustic or electric, rock or classical. “Where did you find it?” “Online,” Bel answered. “Apparently a collector was cleaning out and decided to part with a few pieces. We lucked into an auction.” “Very lucky,” Winter agreed and started to hand it back to River, but the wolf was shaking his head. “Play something. I’m still learning, and I’d love to hear what it’s really capable of.” Winter looked over at Aiden, who nodded as well. “We’re still waiting on Rafe, and I haven’t heard you play in years.” Winter didn’t need to be urged further. Part of him was dying to try out the Gibson as well. Winter took the guitar over to his seat, sat, and settled it in his lap. He plucked at the strings one at a time, tweaking the tuning just a little here and there. It was like the instrument was begging to be played. When it was ready, he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a few picks. He didn’t know how they ended up there each night. Somehow they were always grabbed with spare change and keys. Sorting through them, he selected his favorite and shoved the rest back into his pocket. The song started slow. It was part of an old Spanish song, but he began to improvise halfway through, putting the guitar and his own fingers through their paces. The notes danced off the strings and echoed up from the hollow body. It was a winding, sinuous dance he could get completely lost in. There was only the music and the Gibson cradled in his arms. The magic of the music. No more whispering voices. No more ghosts. No more Ministry. No more blood and death. Winter didn’t know how long he played. He just let himself get lost in the melody for a time. When he finally looked up at the end of the song, it was to find his family seated around him, smiles on their faces. Even Rafe was now resting on the arm of the couch closest to his twin, a warm look on his face. “Impressive, Wee One. I’d forgotten how skilled you were with that instrument,” Rafe drawled, and Winter rolled his eyes. He really did detest the nickname, but he knew better than to say anything to Rafe. Eventually he would grow bored with it. “Glad you could join us. We were just killing a little time,” Winter said sharply. He turned toward River and extended the guitar to the wolf. “It’s a gorgeous guitar. Keep practicing. She needs to sing.” “I will,” River said, cuddling the instrument against his chest. “Now that we’re all here,” Marcus started, his voice dark and deep. Winter settled into his chair, turning the plastic pick over his fingers while he mentally braced himself. He knew what Marcus was going to announce. Winter had already spoken with Aiden since leaving the sporting goods store, but he wasn’t looking forward to watching the impact on his brothers’ faces. “We’ve learned a couple of pieces of disturbing information this evening,” Aiden continued. “The first is that Damon James has officially disbanded the American Ministry. He has proclaimed himself king of the vampires in all of the Americas.” “It’s fucking ridiculous,” Rafe snarled. “As if the vampires in Argentina and Peru are going to give a shit about him.” Aiden allowed a little smirk. “Most likely not, since not many vampires in the U.S. and Canada venture that far south. Until Damon actually goes down there, they are likely to get away with ignoring him.” “But you’ve also pointed out that the highest concentrations of vampires are in the United States,” Bel said. “That’s true,” Aiden agreed with a nod. “Damon will focus his efforts on subjugating and controlling those closest to home first.” “And the first step will be shoring up his numbers.” Marcus stood and folded his arms over his chest as he took a spot near the center of the room. “We already know he’s got solid allies with Christopher Heller’s and Paavo Wetzel’s clans. I think we can also count on the remnants of the Black Wolf clan and the MacPherson clan to side with Damon.” “That’s a lot of vampires, isn’t it?” River whispered. “Yes,” Bel murmured, not even trying to sugarcoat it for his lover. “But we’re not alone,” Ethan quickly chimed in. “We’ve still got the Montgomery clan on our side, right?” Aiden nodded again, flashing the fledging at the other end of the couch a small smile. “Yes. I’ve spoken with Sofia tonight, and she is not wavering in her allegiance to us. She’s working to strike up more alliances. We also have Moon and Novik, though their numbers are smaller.” “After what you’ve told us about Damon, I’m sure the Tambor werewolf pack would help,” River offered. Damon was a monster that wanted vampires to openly feed and kill humans. He wanted to pull vampires out of the shadows and allow them to claim the top spot on the food chain. That wasn’t good for humans or werewolves. “I appreciate that, but for now, I’d like to keep the wolves out of this fight for as long as possible. I’ve spoken with the alpha a couple of times in the past month, and he has an understanding of the current state of vampire politics.” Aiden was being polite. What he really meant was, shit was going to hit the fan very soon, and it was smart if the wolves kept their fucking heads down for as long as possible. “But the plan isn’t to start a war with hundreds of vampires,” Marcus said. He shifted from one foot to the other, as if anxious to take action rather than simply discussing it. “We can kill Damon, and this will be all over.” “Cut the head off the snake,” Winter murmured, and Marcus nodded. “It worked with Minerva and the Black Wolf clan. It worked with Nolan and the MacPherson clan,” Bel listed. “Maybe,” Aiden softly hedged. Winter sat up from where he’d been slouched in the chair, eyes narrowing on their father. Aiden had been incredibly tight-lipped when it came to Damon, other than to point out his lack of respect for human life. Any life, really. “What are you thinking?” Winter inquired. “Killing Damon would create a power vacuum. The forces are already gathered. I wonder if someone wouldn’t simply step into that opening and pick up where he left off.” “Like Christopher Heller?” Bel asked. Winter was already shaking his head. “I’ve watched him. He has no more ambition than Damon lets him have. He can barely manage his own clan. They follow him out of fear of Damon.” “No, I was thinking Paavo,” Aiden admitted. “I’ve encountered him a few times in my long existence. He’s smart, crafty. I think Damon’s ego makes him miss some critical things when it comes to Paavo. The vampire would happily use the murder of Damon as an excuse to deftly seize power and come after us.” Aiden paused and scratched his jaw. “We need to think on this some more. We can’t do anything rash.” He looked directly at Winter when he delivered that final statement. As if his father knew he’d just decided to pay the vampire’s lair a little visit. With a smirk, Winter nodded. He would hold his blade for now. Aiden then turned his gaze over to Rafe. “As much as I hate to suggest this, it would be a good idea to close Blush temporarily.” “What?” Rafe cried, jumping to his feet. “You can’t be serious.” “I am. Damon would have no qualms over starting this war in front of the humans. And he would have you at a great disadvantage.” “The security at Blush is excellent,” Rafe snapped. “But limited. You and your people wouldn’t hesitate to save the humans that packed the club. Damon’s soldiers would use that. They would happily slaughter countless humans, using them as a distraction to hurt you and any vampire who worked for you.” The angry energy in Rafe drained away to be replaced with weary resignation. His brother loved his nightclub, and he loved his human customers. They had been a source of endless amusement for him over the years, and he was quite protective of them. Aiden’s words rang with a painful truth. Rafe would do anything to protect the humans, and he would die trying to keep them safe. Winter could easily see the same thing happening to Rafe’s mate, Philippe, and his friend Lola. “You’re right. Closing Blush would also make it harder for one of Damon’s little bitches to get to a clan member,” Rafe grumbled. He nodded and returned to his seat. “I’ll tell them tonight that the party was a bit of a farewell. I’ll see the staff paid handsomely and the club closed for the foreseeable future.” “I’m sorry, Rafe,” Bel murmured. He reached around River to place a hand on his twin’s arm. The vampire smiled as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but there was worry in his deep blue eyes. Winter could see it even from across the room. “No worries, my sweet Bel. This will give me a chance to spend some much-needed quality time with my Philippe.” Ethan snorted. “Yes, I’m sure he’s been sorely neglected.” “Bite your tongue, Little Varik. I’d never neglect mon ange. I was just thinking of some more intensive bonding,” Rafe finished with a devilish deepness to his voice. “Just keep it off Instagram and out of my text messages,” Winter groused. Aiden cleared his voice as if he were trying to cover up a laugh and pushed on. “Damon’s gathering army is one concern, but it’s not our only one.” He turned his attention to Winter, indicating he should take over. “I recently spent some time poking around Christopher’s lair. Their security has improved, but they are definitely more disorganized than what I’ve seen from Damon or Paavo.” Marcus groaned, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “I don’t want to think about you being anywhere near any of their clans.” He turned and dropped onto the love seat with Ethan. His lover cuddled close, wrapping his arms around his waist as if he could protect Marcus from what was still to come from Winter’s lips. “Apparently there’s a prophecy floating around about the demise of the Variks,” Winter continued. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Rafe demanded. “A prophecy? What utter nonsense!” “This coming from the man who is friends with a so-called witch,” Winter mocked. Rafe sat up and pointed one long finger at his brother. “Keep Zelda out of this. She is a very powerful witch.” “Well, I have a feeling Zelda is the one who has put herself in the middle of this. I heard her name mentioned several times as I was sneaking about. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think it’s very possible she’s the witch who has graced Damon and his followers with this prophecy.” Rafe’s mouth fell open, but no sound came out as his eyes jerked over to Aiden in stunned silence. Winter turned to their father as well. “Would your friend hand out such nonsense about our clan and not tell you?” Winter snapped. “I honestly don’t know,” Aiden replied softly, and Winter hated the stunned, lost quality to his voice. “Are there a lot of witches out there who are as powerful as Zelda? Could it have been another witch? Someone we don’t know.” Winter pressed. “Possibly. I’ll admit Zelda is the only witch that I know,” Aiden said. Winter looked over at Rafe, and his brother shrugged. “It’s by sheer luck that I even know Zelda. I know of no others.” “I’ll try to get in contact with Zelda, see if she’s heard anything about this prophecy,” Aiden said. “What about the prophecy? Do you know what it says exactly?” Bel inquired. Winter shook his head. “I haven’t gotten the exact wording yet. All I know is, a witch is supposed to bring the downfall of the Variks. A witch holds the key to changing our world.” “Well, isn’t that delightfully vague?” Rafe complained, throwing his arms up in the air. “True, but it apparently was enough for Damon and his minions to act. There’s a witch being held by Damon.” Silence claimed the room. It had been easier to brush the idea of a prophecy off as nonsense until that moment. Even if the prophecy was true, there was no proof that this witch held the key to the fall of the Variks. But a captured witch definitely made it all the more real. “My plan is to sneak into Damon’s compound and reach the witch. I’ll either kidnap her so we can get to the root of this prophecy insanity or kill her on the spot.” “Absolutely not!” Marcus shouted first, launching to his feet. The other brothers joined in with their shouts a heartbeat later, just as Winter had predicted. Winter didn’t actually blame them. It was an insanely dangerous mission, but he had the best odds of succeeding. While his brothers yelled over each other, Winter turned his gaze over to Aiden, who was watching him with a growing sadness in his eyes. He didn’t like Winter’s proposal any better than Marcus, but at least he recognized that Winter was their only real chance of getting close to this witch. “He’s the only one who can get in and out of Damon’s undetected,” Aiden said carefully. The others fell silent for only a couple of seconds. Marcus was the first to start growling. “There has to be another way!” “What if Winter takes me with him?” Bel suggested. “I’ve gone with him to the other side.” “No!” River shouted. He grabbed Bel’s arm, his eyes wide and frantic. The wolf had already suffered through being disconnected from his mate once before. River and Wyatt had described it as feeling like Bel had died. Winter couldn’t imagine they’d be in a rush to experience it again so soon. Winter shook his head. “I can’t. It’s far too draining, and I would need to do this for an extended period of time. It’s easy enough for me to manage alone, but not with you there. Plus, what if I can manage to kidnap her? I know I can’t hold the three of us there.” “It’s too dangerous,” Rafe declared. “It’s more dangerous if we don’t strike against this prophecy and witch while we can,” Winter countered. “If I go alone and succeed, it will leave them scrambling and confused. If all of the Variks go, we’re declaring war.” “Damon has already declared war on the Variks!” Aiden was shaking his head. “Not yet. There have been zero attacks on our clan, and I’m hoping to stretch that period for as long as possible. Winter’s suggestion helps to remove one more advantage from their arsenal. And if Damon’s allies know of this prophecy and we steal away the witch…” “He could lose allies,” Marcus finished. “Winter has to go,” Bel added, sounding haunted by the idea. He tried to smile at his brother, wishing he could ease the scientist’s fears. “Just a quick in and out, Bel. I’ve done this more times than I can even count. Damon and his men will never know I was there.” “What about the witch? What if she doesn’t know anything about this prophecy? What if she doesn’t mean us any harm? Is it right to end her life?” Ethan demanded. His wide eyes darted around the room as he grabbed a throw pillow and clutched it tight against his chest. “I mean, I obviously don’t want any of the Variks to be hurt, or our allies, but what if this isn’t her fault either?” No one seemed capable of meeting Ethan’s eyes. Frowning, Winter looked directly at his new brother. “I’ll do what I can to determine the innocence of the witch. If she means to hurt us, I won’t hesitate.” Ethan nodded, and Winter didn’t comment about what he’d do if the witch was innocent. He’d been careful in his long life. He didn’t believe he’d ever killed a person who was truly innocent. All the blood on his hands had come from people who meant to harm his family. But this witch might prove to be the one exception. “When will you go?” Rafe asked. “Soon. I need to strike before Damon figures out we know about the prophecy.” Conversation largely died off after Winter’s announcement. There was nothing more to discuss. They made plans on how to strengthen their own defenses and what resources they could pull on for information. Winter watched his brothers draw into themselves with worry. The Variks had spent their entire lives protecting each other, always there for their siblings. But in those early years, the threat had largely come from Julianna. It had been easier to band together. This time, Winter was leaving his brothers on the outside, and they all hurt for it.
Chapter 4
Chapter 4 The meeting ended not long after his brothers reluctantly accepted that Winter would be sneaking into Damon’s lair. But he was deeply touched by the fact that each of them pulled him aside and offered any kind of assistance he might need, whether it was a getaway driver or a possible distraction. Bel offered to cook up some tranquilizer darts that were effective on vampires. Winter turned them all down, but he was warmed by their offers. He was loved. When he approached Damon’s compound, he wasn’t going to feel alone. His brothers’ love and support would be going with him. As his brothers and their mates drifted out of the room, Winter found himself alone with his father, who was watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. That was strange in and of itself. Winter had gotten quite good at reading Aiden’s expressive gold eyes over the years. Of all the family, he’d probably spent the most time with Aiden, though Winter doubted any of them were aware of it. The man had thick brown hair and a hard, square jaw. He appeared to be in his early to midtwenties, barely older than Winter, but they’d learned recently that Aiden was considerably older than they’d all known. But by appearance, Marcus looked older than their father. A small smile finally formed on Aiden’s lips, and he pushed to his feet. “Take a walk with me. The weather is still nice.” Winter nodded and rose as well, following Aiden through the house to a set of double doors that led to a broad stone patio. They walked in silence for a while, strolling along the paving stones and then across the back lawn. A dark forest rose up not far away, but there was no sense that anyone was watching them from the trees. “How’s living with so many Variks under one roof?” Winter asked after a moment, earning a low chuckle from Aiden. “An adjustment, but I do love it,” he admitted. “Too many years alone.” Aiden lifted his shoulders a bit, but Winter understood the gesture. When Julianna was alive, he couldn’t be too close, or he risked setting her off on one of her black moods. He’d traveled constantly, trying to stay ready in case he was needed. “I know Marcus gets frustrated with having me close,” Aiden stated, though he sounded more amused than hurt by the idea. “He’s so accustomed to making all the decisions and not conferring with me. I know it ruffles his feathers to check with me now, even if I tell him it’s not necessary.” Winter snorted. “Marcus is a bulldozer. He likes to have everything within his control, so he can just plow through it all.” “Ethan is teaching him delegation.” “Ha!” Aiden bumped him playfully with his elbow. “I’m quite serious. Ethan is trying to teach Marcus to let me handle things. The incentive is that they can now spend more time together.” “Little Varik is an evil genius. We’ve all underestimated him time and again,” Winter said, using the nickname Rafe created for Ethan. “That is very true. Bel and his wolves seem to have settled in faster than I have, but then, Bel has lived with Marcus in the past.” “It doesn’t hurt that Wyatt and River are easy to be around.” Aiden hummed his agreement before stopping. He bent down and picked a wild flower growing along the edge of the forest. Its delicate purple petals seemed to almost glow in the moonlight. “Rafe and Philippe stop by often. Your brother is still warming up to the wolves, but Bel has gotten sharper in his teasing of Rafe.” There was a heavy weight in the silence that fell between them. Aiden had carefully worked his way through all the Varik brothers except for Winter. He was the aloof brother. The secretive brother. The brother who managed to be both distant and close at the same time. “I’m fine, Aiden,” Winter said a bit testy. “Bel knows something of your secret,” Aiden replied. “He hasn’t said anything to me yet, but I can see the wheels turning when he looks at you.” Winter bit the inside of his mouth, thinking over Bel’s words from earlier in the night. He didn’t feel guilty about not telling his brothers about Julianna. They’d all gotten more time with her, even if it was strained and nerve-wracking at moments. But Aiden didn’t. They were together for less than two full years when she’d been a human. After he turned her, he couldn’t be near her again for fear of risking the lives of her children. She’d lived nearly two hundred more years, and Aiden was never able to see her again. He couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t even say good-bye. Was it wrong of Winter to deny his father that chance now? He could at least tell him about the ghost. Give him the option. Winter sighed heavily. “He…he saw Julianna that night. When I used my gift on him.” Aiden was quiet for a long time, his eyes locked on the flower he slowly spun by its stem between two fingers. “It’s not really her, Father,” Winter pressed on. Panic rose in his chest. His father had already suffered so much for his love of the woman, and Winter didn’t want to cause him another second of pain. “She doesn’t talk. Most of the time I only see her standing in Marcus’s foyer. She smiles. That’s it. She doesn’t try to interact with me or anyone in the house.” “She—” Aiden stopped and cleared his throat, trying again. “She’s smiling? She looks happy?” Winter nodded and blinked fiercely against a rush of tears. “She does. I think…I think she’s watching over us. Just kind of happy to see us living our lives.” “And you think she can see all of us? She can see me?” “Yes,” Winter said, though the word nearly became trapped behind the lump in his throat. And then he asked the one thing he swore he wouldn’t. “Would…would you like to see her?” Aiden was silent for so long, Winter had begun to wonder if he’d actually heard his question. After nearly a full minute, Aiden slowly shook his head. “It’s better if I don’t. I will always love her, but she’s gone. I said my good-byes. My focus needs to be on the children she blessed me with. If she can see me, she can see I’m happy and loved by her sons. That’s enough.” Winter grabbed Aiden and hugged him tightly, roughly wiping tears on the man’s shoulder. “You are loved,” he whispered in a choked voice. Aiden held him. “I know. My sons have always made me feel loved.” When Winter stepped back, reluctantly releasing Aiden, the smile was a little steadier on Aiden’s lips. “And because of that love, I feel confident in saying that you should tell your brothers…everything.” Winter groaned and turned toward the house. It was an old argument Winter had spent one hundred and seventy-seven years dodging. “Now is not the time. We’ve got other things to occupy us.” “There’s always a new excuse, but I know it comes down to fear. You’re scared of how your brothers are going to react. Scared they will look at you with fear or pity.” “Yes!” Winter snapped, throwing his arms up. “Of course I am. After all we went through with Mother, I don’t want them looking at me like I’m a fucking ticking time bomb. Even after all these years.” “I don’t think they will.” “Well, now is definitely not the time to get into it.” At least with the threat of Damon and the witch, he felt on firmer ground with his evasion. He started to walk toward Marcus’s house, and Aiden fell into step beside him. His father didn’t say anything, but Winter knew he was right. He’d put it off with the excuse that they had to put all their energy into protecting Julianna and their family. Now it was about protecting the clan from Damon and his pack of assholes. There would always be a new excuse. He’d spent almost his entire human and vampire lives hiding things from his brothers, and it was getting old. The weight pressed heavy on his chest. He was so damn tired. “Could you do me a favor when you talk to Zelda?” Winter asked suddenly. “Of course.” “Ask her about my prophecy.” “Winter…” Aiden started, but Winter was already shaking his head. This was the other thing they’d gone around and around about over the years. They were never going to agree on it, and Winter had reconciled himself to it. Aiden had spoken to Zelda shortly after Winter had been reborn a vampire. He wanted her opinion on Winter’s strange ability to hear the dead, to see the dead. Zelda had replied with the one and only prophecy she’d given the Varik clan. When the mother finds peace, And the brothers find joy, The youngest shall find silence divine. Winter might not necessarily believe in witches and magic, but some irrational part of his brain had clung to those words for so many years. He just needed to know that it would be over one day. He hadn’t known it would take one hundred and seventy-seven years for them to complete the first two parts of the prophecy, but he had to believe that the end was finally upon him. Right now, all he prayed was that he would last until after Damon was taken care of. Then he’d find his own peace in silence. He’d always taken the final line to mean that he was meant to die. What other divine silence could there be? How else was he supposed to shed this curse? Aiden clung to the hope of some answer, but Zelda had provided no new enlightenment or guidance. Part of him remained skeptical, but her words were his last and only hope. “Talk to her for me. I’m tired, Aiden. I just want to be rid of the dead at last.”
Chapter 5
Chapter 5 Winter glared at the massive house glowing against the darkness in front of him. Of course, Damon’s house was enormous. It’d taken Winter three nights to get to Damon’s compound in Virginia. He’d been careful to drive from his place in Connecticut, checking over and over again to be sure he wasn’t followed, that he wasn’t found by humans or vampires when he was forced to stop for the daylight hours. Even after he reached Fairfax, Virginia, he kept a distance from Damon’s house, avoiding vampires and humans. He wasn’t sure who was on Damon’s side—he just had to assume they all were. But there was one group he could safely speak to—the ghosts who lingered close to Damon’s grounds. And there were more than a few former vampires who would share all they knew about Damon’s home and security, seeing as how the new king had killed them. It was how Winter had gathered mountains of information on his enemies over the years. Not every ghost noticed him, and not all wanted to speak to him, but they saw everything. And the ones looking for a little attention, or just a little vengeance, were happy to spill their secrets. Damon had killed scores of vampires and humans over the years in Virginia. Plenty wanted to tell all of what they’d seen inside the place. Their reports on the security were hard to judge since ghosts didn’t really have a sense of time, and Winter was confident Damon had beefed up his safeguards over the past few months as he dismantled the Ministry and seized power. Glancing at his watch, Winter checked the time yet again. Two hours until sunrise. He was cutting this shit close, but it was the best plan he could cook up. If he took out the witch and made his escape close to sunrise, it would be impossible for any of Damon’s vampire minions to track him down or follow him. Damon wasn’t the type to have any humans he trusted to look for him. Winter just needed to get enough space between himself and Damon’s goons. He closed his eyes and called on his powers. The veil parted, and it felt like the world gave a happy sigh as it welcomed him back into its embrace. The opening closed around Winter, and he was in the world of the dead. Sadly, ghosts filled the grounds of Damon’s home. Both humans and vampires found their end here, thanks to Damon and his clan. This was merely a preview of what would happen to vampires and humans across the continent if Damon was permitted to ascend to power among the vampires. Jogging across the vast expanse of neatly trimmed lawn, he skirted the front door and circled around the building, counting the guards and security cameras as he moved. While he was quite adept at picking locks and had hacked more than his share of security systems, it was too dangerous to do it here. It would require him to leave the dead world, and he wasn’t willing to do that unless absolutely necessary. He needed them to open the door for him. At the rear of the house, he found a door that looked as if it might lead into the kitchen. Definitely not the type of place he’d find Damon or any of his upper-level disciples. No, here would be the underlings and the servants. Maybe some guards trying to keep a low profile or take a break. He could make this work. Turning where he stood, he took a quick inventory of his surroundings. Off the door was a small stone patio with a couple of cheap folding chairs and a bucket. He glanced inside the bucket to find old cigarette butts and ashes. Human servants with a bad habit? Or just some stressed-out vampires? The nicotine wouldn’t affect the vampire any longer, but there could be some placebo effect going on. The old habit helped to settled nerves more than the chemicals. Bel would love to study these poor creatures. A slow grin spread across Winter’s lips. This was just perfect. Checking once again for the placement of the video cameras, he reached inside the bucket while also creating a small opening between the worlds. He snatched up a cigarette butt that had a good length of tobacco before the pale brown filter. Winter walked over to one of the bushes that would have been just at the edge of the security camera view but still a short distance from the patio, and he pulled off the small sling backpack he wore whenever he was on missions like this. The bag held essentials such as rope, knives, matches, cash, bandages, and even a small squeeze bottle of lighter fluid. With the bottle and matches in one hand, he reshouldered the bag and took a deep breath. He needed to work fast. An opening couldn’t be moved, and neither could the bush, which meant his hands would have to be in the realm of the living to light the fire. Once his nerves were settled, Winter pushed the veil aside just enough to carefully place the cigarette among the branches and leaves at the top of the bush, as if someone had simply flicked it in that direction rather than putting it out in the bucket. He sprayed the leaves around the cigarette with the fluid and the lit the match. The fluid instantly caught, creating a bright light in the darkness. Winter immediately pulled back and settled the veil closed again. He shoved the squeeze bottle and matches into his pockets as he moved over to the kitchen door. He didn’t need a large fire. Just one big enough to catch someone’s attention to send them outside. The important thing was that it needed to look like an accident. He didn’t want to tip his hand just yet that someone was trying to infiltrate the house. To his relief, it didn’t take long for someone to notice that a bush was on fire. The door was thrown wide, and a vampire stepped partially outside. He held open the door while remaining in the doorway, casting a shaft of golden light across the patio. “What the fuck?” the bloodsucker snarled. “Who the hell was out here last?” He turned toward the interior, shouting, “Someone get me a bucket of water or the damn fire extinguisher.” He’d slammed the door shut behind him before Winter could move. Winter hovered near the door, cursing under his breath. The bastard had blocked his entrance into the house with his body. His plan wasn’t working quite how he’d expected, but he wasn’t ready to give up yet. A few seconds later, the same vampire returned with a bucket in hand. He strode across the patio, toward the fire that was increasing in size and threatening to spread to another bush. A second vampire followed him out, but he stepped through the open doorway just enough to allow Winter to squeeze inside. Releasing his breath in a rush, Winter slipped down the short hallway that ended in a large kitchen filled with polished stainless-steel appliances and a fancy tile floor. Everything was either white or silver, making the room feel oppressively bright. The only thing out of place was a pair of dirty glasses and some empty bags that had once held blood. Looked like Winter had interrupted their late-night snack. He had barely gotten across the kitchen when the two vampires returned with the empty bucket. There was some talk about a cigarette starting the fire and why someone named Leslie couldn’t fucking put his butts out in the bucket like everyone else. Winter nearly laughed to hear that his distraction had worked so well. There was no suspicion that anyone had set the fire on purpose. Continuing through the house, Winter took note that even more ghosts were crowded inside of Damon’s house than outside on his lawn. He would have thought most of his victims would prefer to move away from the murderer if possible, but maybe they were hoping to exact some kind of revenge on the bastard. Besides the ghosts, there were even more vampires walking rounds through the house. Two were stationed by the front door, and another two were in front of a set of double doors on the first floor that he was willing to guess was Damon’s office. He counted at least three more walking rounds through the place, poking their heads into open rooms and checking windows at regular intervals. It was as if Damon were expecting to be attacked at any moment. Winter wished he could stroll into Damon’s office now and cut the fucker’s heart out, but he held back on that dark impulse. Aiden was right that Damon’s death would create a power vacuum. They’d lose one threat and just move Paavo or some other vampire into Damon’s place. Right now, Damon was a known threat. Something Winter could at least partially plan for. The soft scuff of a shoe across the tile floor was his only warning. He’d been lost in thought and hadn’t noticed a new pair of vampires on their rounds. He ducked out of the way just in time to avoid one of them plowing right into him. Winter released a heavy sigh of relief, leaning against a wall for support. The vampire stopped right where Winter had been and gave a whole-body shiver. “What the hell? You feel that?” he muttered, looking over at his companion. “What?” “Cold spot. Right here.” “What?” The vampire with short blond hair and a goatee turned around where he stood, his eyes passing right over where Winter was plastered to the wall. “A cold spot. Like the air dropped twenty degrees right here.” The other vampire with brown hair waved his hand right in front of the first vampire, his face wrinkled with confusion. “I don’t feel anything. You’re crazy.” “I’m not. I wonder if I walked through a ghost.” The brunet groaned and resumed walking. “You’re fucking insane. There’s no such thing as ghosts.” “There totally is. Haven’t you heard that cold spots are an indication of ghosts?” the blond pressed, taking a couple of quick steps to catch up with his friend. “You’re the reason there are all those stupid ghost-hunting shows on TV. I hate you,” the brunet continued before they disappeared down another hallway. “Please tell me you’re here to prove to them that ghosts are real by turning them into ghosts.” Winter’s head snapped around to see a ghost standing in an open doorway, watching him very closely. He hadn’t even noticed her standing there, but then, he’d gotten very good at tuning the ghosts out over the years. He didn’t say anything as he continued toward a long hallway off the foyer, but the ghost continued. “You’re Winter Varik, aren’t you?” Winter’s gaze jerked up to stare at the ghost, really taking in her appearance. She looked like she’d died young, twenty-two or twenty-three. It was impossible to tell if she’d died as a human or a vampire. But judging by her jeans and 2017 Fun Run T-shirt, she’d died not that long ago. “I am,” he said softly. The ghost laughed and spun on the toes of her left foot while clapping. “That totally explains it!” She sucked in a breath she didn’t need and smiled broadly at him. “That’s why you’ve got such a reputation for being scary and invisible. You can sneak around with all the ghosts.” “You’ve heard of me?” She nodded and took another step closer. “Damon complained about the Variks all the time, but your name came up the most. He’s scared shitless of you.” Winter grinned at his new friend. That news was always nice to hear. He just didn’t know how he’d turn it to his advantage. “Did you work for Damon?” The ghost sniffed and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “Hardly. Unwilling blood donor. One of his fucks picked me up while I was running an errand to the grocery one night. Kept me locked up here for about a month before Damon finally managed to kill me.” “I’m sorry…” “Cara,” she supplied. She gave one small shrug of her slumped shoulders. “Thanks. Way it goes, I guess. Definitely not how I thought I was gonna die.” “Have you been in the house long?” Cara nodded. “I think so. Time…time feels weird now.” It wasn’t the first time Winter had heard that complaint from a ghost. They didn’t register the passage of time the same way the living did. It was how they could exist for centuries in the same region and not go completely insane from the boredom. Decades could pass in the blink of an eye for them. But if Cara had been in Damon’s house for at least a few months, she might know about the witch. “Do you know if Damon is keeping anyone prisoner within the house right now? Someone who is not a blood donor.” A broad smile blossomed on Cara’s face, and he had to admit, it was the most bloodthirsty expression he’d ever seen on a former human. “Second floor. Down the hall to the left from the main staircase. You’ll find at least two guards outside the door at all times.” Winter’s heart skipped a beat at this wonderful news. This was exactly what he needed to know, and it saved him from having to search every inch of this place. Too often prisoners were kept either in a basement or even another building on the grounds. Winter didn’t have time to check out every inch of Damon’s place, and he certainly didn’t want to come back another night. “Thanks, Cara!” He turned on his heel and started to jog toward the stairs, but Cara’s shout stopped him. “Wait! Are you going to kill Damon?” Winter paused with one foot on the bottom stair as he turned to look at her. “Not tonight, but very soon. I promise.” “Good,” she said with a sigh. “And if you could make it really painful, I know a lot of us around here would appreciate it.” Winter grinned. “I’ll do what I can.” Cara laughed and started to do a twirling dance across the main hallway. She held up the middle finger on both hands, flipping off the front door guards as she passed them by. He had a feeling she was going to gleefully flip off all the vampires she passed in the house as she celebrated Damon’s coming demise. Resuming his trek up the stairs, Winter found the door she’d indicated, with two vampires standing guard outside of the room. He leaned against the wall opposite them, scratching his jaw. How the fuck was he supposed to get past these bastards? Well, he could kill them, but it would be damn hard to quickly hide the bodies and any blood splatter that would inevitably happen. And if he didn’t work fast enough, they could raise the alarm. He might be able to escape, but Damon would definitely put extra protection on his precious prisoner. No, he needed another distraction. Something that would draw the guards away from their posts. Pushing off the wall, Winter headed along the hallway in the opposite direction. Most of the doors were open, revealing empty bedrooms that were extravagantly decorated. He doubted they were ever used. Just opulence for the sake of opulence. Marcus’s house might be a tad over the top, but at least his rooms were regularly used by family. There was no way Damon was allowing his security staff to sleep in here. He probably had a plain dormitory-style room dedicated for his bodyguards. A dungeon for his poor blood donors. It was a shame he couldn’t set free anyone else trapped on the premises, but there wasn’t time, and he had to keep his focus on the witch. She was the key to everything. Taking care of her meant the Variks were one step closer to getting rid of Damon. At the end of the hall, he stepped into a large empty bedroom overflowing with lace and flowers. The room looked as if it would belong to someone’s eccentric great-aunt whose mind was trapped about a hundred years in the past. Old wooden dolls with wide, unblinking stares sat in doll-sized chairs. Their hair was arranged in fat sausage curls. The room was straight out of a horror movie, and Winter couldn’t think of a better place to start a fire. Just a little fire. It had worked outside and if he kept it small, he’d be able to draw the guards away from their door to the room. Winter grabbed the bottle of starter fluid from his pocket and began searching around the room for a perfect spot. It wouldn’t make sense for a fire to spontaneously break out in the middle of the bed or in the cluster of creepy dolls. Fuck, he hated those damn dolls and their eyes. But some faulty wiring could definitely spark a fire. He checked along the wall, searching for something plugged in. Settling on an outlet with a bedside lamp, he parted the veil enough to spray the last of the fluid around the plug and up the wall as if the fire had followed along the wiring. He had no clue if an electrical fire would act like that, but it would at least look convincing. The point was to buy himself a couple of minutes to get to the witch and take care of her. He couldn’t have the guards looking for him while he was dealing with the witch. Winter tucked the empty bottle away in his pocket; then he struck a match and held the tiny flame to the fluid nearest the outlet. It took only a second for the liquid to catch and rush up the wall, eating into the floral wallpaper with a loud crackle. Winter put out the match and shoved it into his pocket, leaving behind no evidence as he closed the veil. The accelerant had no smell, and the acrid scent of smoke was already overpowering any odor created by the match. With a smile, he left the room and started down the hall. He crossed past the staircase and found the same two vampires outside the room as the smoke alarm closest to the burning bedroom shrieked. As expected, both vampires jumped at the noise and turned toward the room where smoke was starting to trickle into the hall. Cursing, they ran to the burning bedroom, leaving the witch’s prison completely unattended. It was so nice when a plan came together smoothly. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his lock picks. The lock on the door looked like a standard model, one he’d had plenty of practice picking. He’d need to exit the world of the dead, but this would take less than thirty seconds. The guards would be occupied for at least that long with the fire. Parting the veil, Winter stepped into the world of the living and grabbed the doorknob. It was unlocked. Of course, the hall and door had been guarded by two vampires, but it seemed strange all the same. He put away his lock picks and palmed his knife in his right hand. Winter slipped inside, silently closing the door again behind him. As he whipped around, preparing to dip into the dead world so he could sneak up on his prey, all thought stopped when his eyes fell on a young man stretched out on a thin mattress. Bright red hair sprung from the top of his head, and his skin was a flawless white, as if he’d been spun from pure moonlight. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a rumpled black T-shirt that had some kind of company logo on the upper left side. There was a pair of worn sneakers on the floor in front of the bed as if he’d kicked them off before getting comfortable. His hands were bound together and tied to the metal bed frame with rope. Winter watched as the fear evaporated from his soft olive-green eyes and his full lips tilted into the most tantalizing smirk. A smirk Winter suddenly wanted to lick from his beautiful mouth. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” the man mocked. “What?” Winter squawked. “I mean you’re no Luke Skywalker, but I’m assuming you’re here to rescue me.” He shifted on the mattress, trying to pull his legs up underneath him so he could sit up. “I’m feeling very Princess Leia in the cute white outfit right now.” Winter could only blink at him. He was lucky his brain was working to keep the air flowing through his lungs. This was all wrong. He hadn’t expected there to be other prisoners. He hadn’t checked the entire house. Was the witch being kept in another room? He’d been positive the witch would be at Damon’s. There was no way the damn vampire trusted anyone enough to protect the witch. When Winter didn’t reply, the man heaved an enormous sigh. “You’re one of those really old vampires, aren’t you? One of those who doesn’t like moving pictures. How can you not know Star Wars?” “I know Star Wars,” Winter grumbled, though he wished he hadn’t. It was the least important thing to focus on at the moment. “Who are you? Why is Damon holding you prisoner?” “Fox Turner,” he replied with a grin. “These bastards grabbed me because of some stupid prophecy.” “Wait! You’re a witch? The witch?” Winter pointed the knife at Fox. Fox’s smile dimmed as his eyes locked on the sharp edge of the knife. “Yep, I’m a witch.” He swallowed hard and seemed to regain some of his bravado as he winked at Winter’s confused expression. “You were expecting a woman, right?” “I thought male witches were called warlocks or wizards.” “Nope, witch is gender-neutral among my kind, thank you very much. Wizards are for Harry Potter.” “Lovely,” Winter muttered. This was all going wrong. Not that it should matter whether the witch in the prophecy was a man or a woman. All that was important was this person supposedly bringing the destruction of the Varik clan, and Winter was not going to allow that. Fox was finally sitting upright in the bed. He flexed his fingers a few times as if trying to get blood flow back into them. “But you are here to rescue me, right? I’ve been here at least two nights, and they’re starting to get a little frisky over who gets to drain me.” Winter hesitated. “Rescue” was not a term that had entered his brain when it came to dealing with the witch and the prophecy. He’d not let himself think about the witch being a person. He couldn’t if he was going to end her…rather, his…life to protect his family. If Winter were honest with himself, he hadn’t planned for the stealing part. He’d largely expected this to be a quick execution, and then he would escape to Connecticut and his family. But was this Fox Turner guilty of anything other than being named in a prophecy? It was clear he was there against his will if Damon felt the need to tie him up in a barren room and set two guards outside his door. “Why are you trying to destroy the Variks?” Winter demanded. “Look, I have no idea who the Variks are, and I’ve got no beef with them. And I definitely have no idea why they think I’m the witch mentioned in this stupid prophecy. Trust me, they’ve got the wrong guy.” Winter didn’t miss the tremor in Fox’s voice or the growing desperation. Beneath his earlier joking and bravado was a thick wall of fear that he was doing his best to hide. There was a good chance that, just like Cara, Fox was entirely innocent and had been grabbed by Damon’s goons. And Winter didn’t kill innocent people if he could help it. “Man, come on. I don’t know what all that commotion was about earlier, but we got to get out of here while the getting is good!” Fox lifted his bound hands as much as he could, pulling at the rope. Winter’s eyes skimmed over his slim form and muscled forearms straining against the rope. There were fading bruises on his arms and face. A dried trickle of blood cut across his temple. Damon’s men likely knocked him out so they could kidnap him more easily. Clenching his teeth, Winter nearly snarled at the swell of need inside of him. He didn’t want to kill Fox. He wanted to protect him. This man was too like Cara and all the other dead haunting Damon’s grounds. People he couldn’t save, but Fox was right in front of him, wide green eyes begging Winter to set him free. “Please, man. They’re gonna kill me, I know it,” Fox pleaded. His hands shook as he held them out toward Winter. Winter wasn’t sure if Fox was telling the truth about his involvement with the prophecy, but he did believe that. Whether Fox willingly helped Damon or not, he was living on borrowed time while in this house. “Fuck,” Winter swore softly. This wasn’t supposed to be the hard part. Time was ticking down, and they were going to lose their window. If he took Fox with him now, it meant he was away from Damon and his goons. That was a plus. He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do with him afterward. But if they could escape Damon’s place and return to his own house, then he could question Fox safely, find out what he knew about the prophecy. Winter hurried across the last few feet separating them and pressed the knife to the ropes, but he didn’t cut. “I set you free, you come with me. You do exactly what I say, or we’re never going to get out of here alive.” “Sure. Of course,” Fox agreed eagerly. Winter figured the guy would at least behave until they were away from Damon’s. Grumbling silently in his head, Winter sawed through the ropes, setting the witch free. For a second, Winter held his breath, waiting for it all to blow up in his face. But nothing happened. Fox let out a grateful sigh as he rubbed his red wrists. “Thanks!” “Silence,” Winter hissed. “Anything you say, sexy.” Winter rolled his eyes and ignored the unexpected flutter through his stomach as he grabbed Fox’s arm and pulled him to his feet. Sexy was not a term anyone had ever used to describe him. Evil, frightening, and bastard were all common terms, but definitely not sexy. He quickly released him again and rushed to the one window in the room. Checking it for alarms, he disabled them with the knife and thrust open the window. Heat and the scent of sweat pressed close as Fox looked around him and out to the back lawn. “That’s a bit of a drop,” Fox observed a bit nervously. “You don’t happen to be one of those vampires who shapeshift into things, do you? Like maybe a giant bird.” They were only on the second floor. Not an impossible drop. Winter had made plenty from this height and managed just fine. He wasn’t as sure about the witch. “Vampires don’t shapeshift, witch. Besides, we’re not going this way,” Winter announced as he stepped back from the window. “But…” Fox started, looking from him to the window. A slow smile spread across his lips. “Oh, a red herring. A bit of misdirection.” “Exactly. Now, shut up.” Grabbing Fox’s arm, he pulled him in until the other man’s elbow brushed his side and they moved to the exit. Carefully, Winter opened the door and peeked out. The hallway was still empty. He tapped his power, also opening up the veil between worlds. “Whoa…” Fox whispered. Winter glared at him and Fox snapped his mouth closed with a wide smile. He even made the motion of zipping his lips shut, locking it, and throwing the imaginary key over his shoulder. Winter internally groaned and pulled them both through the opening. As he sealed the rift, he also grabbed the knob behind Fox, closing the door as well. Fox’s silence wasn’t required for stealth now that they were in the dead world, but Winter definitely appreciated the lack of distractions from the man. So far, only a little “eep” had slipped out of him, but one look at the man saw it was an excited eep rather than a terrified one.
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