“But I’m not. I’m just me. Why should I be more important than anybody else?”
“You are,” he said fiercely. “You wee fool. Have you not figured it out? Your blood, and yes, even Lilac’s blood, it’s richer. Closer to those of our ancestors. It’s why you’ve always been stronger than the others. Why Alcántara wants you alive. Why Sonja wants you dead. Your blood would reinvigorate their stock. And it would certainly be more than enough to buy another year of peace between Freya and Jacob. It’d give us another year to gather our strength. To build our army. Because this is a war we fight, Annelise. And these girls, yes, I know it’s hard, but these girls are a small loss in a single battle, when what we fight is a war. A war that’s spanned centuries.”
I wanted to believe him. To feel in my heart what he felt. I wanted to stand tall with Carden by my side. But how could I when this was his worldview?
His voice gentled. “Listen, dove. Our world is not black and white. It’s never so easy as that. Not even when I walked this earth as a man was the world that simple. Don’t forget the good Freya has done. How she saved me. Spared me that I might care for my family.”
He was entrenched, and there was no getting him out. Not so long as he pledged himself to Freya. I swayed into him. “I just wish things were different.”
Carden shifted me so that he could catch my eye. “I work for Freya. Like it or not, you do too now. I know it’s hard to accept, but trust me when I say she is the lesser of many evils.”
He was kneading my shoulders in a way that was supposed to reassure me, and ever so subtly, I found myself receding from his touch. “You’re right. We can’t let Jacob win. It’s just…this isn’t my war.”
“Aye, love. But it’s mine.”
I put on my game face. Gave him my accepting nod. But inside I grieved. I railed. Because I did not accept this. Would not.
I’d save my mother and then I’d run as far and as fast as I could from here. And if they killed me…well, anything would be better than living among this evil. Because once this war was fought, I was sure there’d be another, and another, and another. That’s just how it was with creatures who craved power as these vampires did.
“Okay,” I said, letting him steer me toward the front. “I get it. But I don’t have to like it.”
“And I do?” Carden mused, but his usual cavalier humor rang false in my ears.
I kept my eyes to the ground as I tried desperately to arrange my features into something brave. Something cold and strong and standing alone.
There was the creak of cold metal as Carden opened the passenger door. He greeted the driver. “So you’re the new errand boy.”
I looked up.
Behind the wheel was Ronan.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I staggered backward and bumped into Carden, who caught me by the shoulders. “Get in,” he said, jealousy pulling his voice taut. “I’ll padlock the back.”
My vampire wouldn’t like seeing Ronan affecting me this way.
But affect me he did. Betrayal seared through me at the sight of him.
I understood why Carden was here. I got his motivations. He was a
vampire
in the midst of a war. He was a creature of honor and loyalty who owed a debt to someone he called his queen.
But Ronan? Ronan was my friend. Probably my best friend. Often my only friend. He had a heart—an actual live, pumping one. He’d always been…well, he’d been my hope. The one ray of light that’d kept me alive, literally and figuratively.
His presence here was incomprehensible.
The deception, the agony of it, slammed into me like a physical thing that wedged deep under my skin, wending through me until the feeling lodged somewhere in the vicinity of my heart and made it hard to breathe.
Seeing Ronan behind the wheel of that truck threw everything I knew, everything I understood about myself, into doubt. My friendships, my trials, my triumphs…none of it meant anything if Ronan was actually this person. This person who could drive a truckload of girls—girls he’d
taught
—into the enemy’s innermost lair, serving them up for this absurd vampire celebration like they were a selection of canapés.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” I said, not bothering to mask the venom in my tone. “I hear you’re the one who saved Lilac. You remember her, right? The one who kept trying to
kill me
?”
I climbed into the truck and dove straight for the back cab area, clambering onto the tiny bench that served as a backseat. Being in this close a space with him was bad enough—I couldn’t bear if I had to sit next to him.
I adjusted myself on the hard, narrow perch, and tore into him. “But I guess that’s what you do, right? Run errands for vampires.
Serve
them. Maybe it’s Sonja, maybe it’s Freya—does it really matter as long as you make it out alive? I guess this is who you’ve really been all this time.”
Still no reaction from him, so my voice rose in intensity. I was letting it all out, all the terror and heartbreak that’d built up during my time on the Isle, I let it all rip. “All your talk of caring about me, looking out for me, it’s all been bullshit. Pretending to be sad when you lost your so-called friends—remember Amanda? Tracer Judge?—it was so perfect how you pretended to be
so sad
when they were killed, but they’re the ones who died, right? Not you. Because you never risked anything. Because all this time you’ve been this…this…
person
who throws girls into the big old vampire wood-chipper, and then afterward you pull out the ones who are still breathing and take them to where they’re needed most. Supper’s on, right?”
He was silent. But I needed him to talk, dammit, so I pressed, “What are you even doing here? You knew I’d be here. Aren’t you ashamed to show yourself in front of me? Why did you come?”
He turned, and damned if I hadn’t situated myself too close. His face was inches from mine, his words exploding in a tormented rasp. “You think I’d really just let you go?”
The earnestness, the anguish in his voice was a fresh spear through my heart. Because I knew now.
It was all a lie.
Carden swung his large body into the passenger seat, and I flinched away so abruptly, I thumped my head on the back of the tight space. “Dammit,” I hissed.
He looked from me to Ronan, and something like distrust sharpened his features. But then he slammed the door and kicked back in his seat like he was on a chaise in the South of France instead of a box truck headed for an industrial island infested with ancient evil.
“Did you have any trouble?” he asked Ronan.
The Tracer gave a tight shake to his head.
The truck rumbled back to life. Ronan put it in gear and put the safe house behind us.
There were a few beats of silence before Carden, sounding impatient, pressed, “You can’t tell me Fournier just let you go.”
“Fournier is dead,” Ronan said curtly. “Alcántara is in charge.”
A bark of a laugh escaped Carden. “That sop?” Then he was instantly serious. A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Not for long. Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, but I knew. There’d been a time when Carden’s words would’ve upset me, or confused me, or worried me for his safety. But now they only shored up this wall I was rapidly constructing around my heart. It was always going to be some battle or other with these guys.
“So Fournier is dead, huh? And the Spaniard finally found the spine to make his move.” Carden stared out the window, contemplating. “Fournier, dead. Dagursson, dead. All we need to do is dispatch Sonja, and once more we shall claim
Eyja næturinnar
for our own.”
Ronan only nodded.
In a move I was sure had been cultivated to annoy, Carden reached over and jostled his shoulder. “You seem tense, pup. What’s your concern?”
Without looking at me, Ronan twitched his head ever so slightly toward me. “It’s not safe for her.”
Fresh outrage erupted like lava in my belly. I was so not about to be discussed in the third person.
I craned my body forward to the very edge of the bench seat. “So
that’s
why you came? To stop me? Because you think I’m weak? Or are you just scared I might hurt your sister?”
Ronan’s face was like granite, but those haunted green eyes flicked to the rearview mirror and locked with mine for the space of two heartbeats.
He looked back to the road and said flatly and simply, “There’s a cloak on the floor. Put it on. Cover yourself with the blanket. When we reach the tunnel, you must hide as best you can. I don’t want you with the others. It’s too dangerous.”
“
Now
it’s too dangerous?” An exasperated breath puffed from my mouth in a cloud of steam. “Fine. Whatever. You boys clearly know what you’re doing.”
I settled myself under layers of fabric, muttering curses with every bump and jostle of my body against the hard bench. I focused on the sound of the truck’s shifting gears.
We slowed. There was a jarring
thud-thud-thud-thud
as the wheels clattered rapid-fire over what sounded like metal bars set in the tarmac.
Sound began to echo differently. Electric light sliced into the truck, strongly enough to glow amber through the layers of fabric covering me. Ronan sped up again.
We were in the tunnel.
After a few minutes, there was an explosive burst of air outside the truck and I was shrouded once more in blackness.
Out of the tunnel again.
We gradually slowed to a stop. Ronan unrolled his window, and a deliciously fresh breeze rushed into the cab, carrying the loud caws of sea birds. There were shouts, too, and I strained to make sense of voices calling out in German, English, some Nordic languages, too.
A male voice was suddenly right there, loud and speaking to Ronan at the window: who was he, what was in the truck, who sent him, what was his affiliation?
Carden began to speak, but a thickly accented voice stopped him. “Not you. We want to hear what this human has to say for himself.”
As Ronan delivered his answers—delivery…offering for the Rising…for Jacob…I serve Freya.
It was probably the first time he’d publicly claimed to side with her instead of Sonja, and while I might’ve been pissed at him, I had to give him props for courage.
But the sentry wasn’t so impressed. He peppered Ronan with more questions, and as the Tracer replied, he pitched his voice in a subtle extension of his persuasive powers.
But it didn’t work. The male voice grew tense.
I was taking only shallow sips of air now, petrified that this guard who stood a mere foot away from my head might detect me.
They sounded increasingly strained as the interrogation went on. Yes, Ronan knew Sonja. As did Carden. No, Ronan was simply a courier. Yes, he’d spent time on
Eyja næturinnar
. Yes, just a courier.
“A dumb courier who knows nothing,” Carden interrupted.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” a female voice cut in.
I sucked in a breath and held it, nails cutting into my palms. Because I recognized that voice.
“This is no mere courier. Brother dear, how lovely you could join us.”
It was Charlotte.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Lottie,” Ronan said.
Not Charlotte. Not crazed-vampire-shrew. But his old nickname for her.
Lottie
.
How terribly sweet.
The feeling of being double-crossed, of being lied to, betrayed, and stabbed in the back by the one person I’d thought I could trust bloomed anew, turning my stomach, making me feel like I might puke in the back of this stupid truck.
“Did I hear you say you bring gifts from
Freya
?” she purred. “How very curious. That could only mean you’ve switched sides. I didn’t know you had it in you. I mean, who’d have guessed that a pair of brass balls came with the pretty face?”
From the sounds in the front seat, it seemed like he flinched from her. “Oi, girl, hands off.”
Charlotte giggled.
My cheeks were damp, and I hated myself for the tears I realized were falling. Because it was a regular family reunion up front, what with Ronan clowning around with his sister…whom he almost certainly knew wanted me dead. Just as Lilac had wanted me dead. Lilac, whom he’d rescued from
Eyja næturinnar
.
It was becoming completely clear just how little I actually knew Ronan. His voice was light, speaking with his sister, and the sound of it made me feel like the loneliest person in the world.
“And look who you brought,” Charlotte chirped. “Carden McCloud. Please tell me this is
my
gift.” She tittered some more. “So Carden, you’ve sided with Freya, too? It’s not like you to be so bold with your alliances.”
A guard called out, his voice shifting as he spoke to someone behind him. “It’s McCloud.”
What had I thought? That we’d sneak in, I’d save my mom, and sneak back out? Stupid. They’d all warned me how dangerous this mission was. I’d been stupid and stubborn not to listen. Because apparently Carden was the only thing standing between me and Charlotte, and things weren’t exactly looking great for him.
Ronan was all business as he said, “Just let us pass, Lottie.” I heard another rustle as he shifted, probably checking his watch, because he added, “It’s getting late. Jacob needs what’s in this truck as soon as possible. So if I were you, I’d expedite this, aye?”
“It’d be no good for anyone if these goods were to spoil.” Carden sounded like he’d casually leaned across the cab to say it.
Spoiled goods.
That’s what we were to these vampires. Goods, then spoiled goods. The concept was so repellent, I shrank into myself even more. Would that I could shrink into nothing and just disappear.
The sentry, further away now, said, “Jacob is occupied and doesn’t give two shites about your goods.”
“It’s true.” Charlotte sighed, sounding bored. “Jacob is busy interrogating Sonja. She’s being asked to…explain herself. In fact, it’s very lucky for you two that you’ve decided to question your loyalties. It’s not a good time to be allied with her. Everyone who does seems to end up dead. Jacob thinks she’s lost control of her little kingdom.”
Banging on the passenger door startled me, and I almost gave myself away by flinching.