Venators, page 28
Beltran took in a deep breath. It caught for a quick second, as if he weren’t sure whether to say more or not, and it rushed out in a huff. “You’re a fighter, Grey. A true Venator in the old sense of the word, back when they were the protectors. You lost this battle today, but your war is just beginning. You can decide to fight or quit.” He glanced at Grey from the corner of his eye. “I understand wanting to quit.”
“I don’t want to quit.”
Beltran chuckled. “Oh, I think you do.”
Grey started to object.
“But I don’t think you will. Hell, I’ve wanted to quit hundreds of times. But for me, from where I choose to stand, to stop trying is unacceptable.” His lips pulled up on one side in a soft smile. “And I think you understand that.”
Grey stared at Beltran. He’d assumed the worst of this man . . . this shifter, whatever he was . . . and heeded Tate’s cautionary advice. Beltran, the man he would’ve deemed as untrustworthy, had done everything he could to keep both him and Valerian alive. He’d risked his own life.
Grey, despite being grateful, had written it off as a debt Beltran wished to rack up. Because, in the shifter’s own words, a favor from a Venator was coin he wanted to play in. But then to sit here and listen to such wisdom coming from his mouth—it shook Grey’s foundations. He had misjudged this man’s character so severely. How could he traverse this world if he couldn’t even trust his own instincts?
“How can I tell?” Grey asked, barely audible over the whispering river. “What is evil and what is good?”
“You can’t. Not always.”
“Just great.” He breathed in, steeling his emotions. “OK, I decide where I stand. And after that? How do I know who to trust?”
Beltran stared out at the river. “You left the council house in the middle of the night, untrained, to face down a pack of werewolves that has been harassing the council for years. Rune had motivation—her brother. But you did so without any thoughts of personal gain. Your only motivation was the injustice of the situation. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’d say that from here on out, you trust those who are invested in your cause—justice. I know Tate is—more so than he’ll probably ever tell you.”
“And Verida? How’s she involved in all of this?”
“That’s her business, but I can tell you she has her reasons.”
“And you?”
“Am I invested?” He splayed a hand against his chest. “Obviously.”
“Why?”
Beltran’s old demeanor returned, and he grinned. “Nobody knows that. No offense, but we just met.”
“Then how am I supposed to know if you’re invested or not?”
“You don’t know Tate’s or Verida’s reasons either. And if you’re not convinced after I jumped off a cliff, chose not to swim away as a fish, and followed you over the falls, nothing I say or do will change your mind.” He winked. “I stand where I stand, whether you see it or not.”
Grey evaluated, trying to find some telltale sign of Beltran’s motivation behind his eyes. But all he could see was the whimsical playboy Beltran loved to show everyone he met. The persona had been down, but it was back in play, and Grey would likely get nothing more. He looked away, fiddling with a pebble at his side. He picked it up and threw it. It made a small splash, the ripple barely noticeable.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” The balance had tipped from impossible to possible the moment Beltran had joined their group. “Thank you for everything you did today. Without you . . . I wouldn’t be going home alive.”
The Unexpected Ally
Rune stood at the edge of the cliff near the council house, hidden from view by the largest of the stables. She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug and stared out over the burning valley below, worrying herself sick that Grey had burned with it.
Behind her, Tate leaned against the back stable, silent except for the incessant tapping of his fingers against the hilt of the sword at his hip. Verida paced between the two of them.
The horizon grew pink. At first Rune thought it was haze from the fire, but the color gradually increased. Day was breaking. Extreme exhaustion knocked at the door, but she couldn’t give in. Not yet. She turned. “It’s almost daylight. What are we going to do?”
Verida blew. “I can’t believe you left him out there!” She stopped her pacing just long enough to shoot a seething glare at Tate. “And with Beltran, no less!”
“For the third time, I had no other choice. And before you start yelling at me again, let’s establish that there is nothing I want more than for Grey to be alive. Nothing.”
“Then how can you just sit there?”
He stared at her intently. The pause itself stretched out like a silent accusation. “What do you want me to do? Wrestle a dragon? Run into a flaming forest? Tell me, Verida, what exactly would you have me do?”
“I don’t know! Just bring him back!”
Bring him back. Rune’s hands curled into fists at her sides. How dare she! When Rune and Tate had finished climbing back up the cliff, Verida had been waiting at the top, knowing full well a dragon was hunting them.
And she’d done nothing.
“Why didn’t you come help?” Rune snarled.
Verida flinched as if she’d been waiting for the question . . . and dreading it.
When she didn’t respond, Tate chimed in. “An answer I’d like to know as well.”
“Dimitri knows I let you go. I denied it, but he knows.” Verida crossed her arms and looked out over the forest. “He forbade me from leaving.”
Rune felt like she’d been sucker punched in the gut. “I see.”
“Do you?”
“I think I’ve got it, yeah.” She bit off the words and spat them toward Verida. “You’re here to help us. You’re on our side . . . unless Dimitri forbids it, and then you’ll let us die. Did I get it right?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then explain it to me, because I’m having a hard time seeing something different from where I am.”
“You have no—”
“Verida,” Tate broke in. “She’s right.”
Verida twisted back to face them, nostrils flaring, her fangs exposed. “She’s not right! You have no idea what position I’m in. I’ll pay for tonight dearly—I promise you that. If I’d stuck my neck out any further, my head wouldn’t be attached to it.”
Tate pushed off the stable wall. “I understand your dilemma. You know I do. But we might have lost one tonight. If Beltran hadn’t followed us out there, we’d all be dead.”
“I told you not to go!”
“And you were right!” Rune snapped. “We shouldn’t have been out there tonight. There. Does that make you feel better? I hope so, because when Grey doesn’t come back, at least you can console yourself with the fact that you were right.”
“Beltran.” A tired voice came from somewhere below them. “Enough. Get us up there.”
Rune’s breath caught in her throat, scared to hope. “Grey?”
A distinctive chuckle trickled up on the breeze. “Very well.” Beltran rose silently from beneath the cliff’s lip, wings flapping in a smooth, even fashion. He held Grey in his arms.
“Beltran!” Verida shrieked. She pointed at him and took several quick steps in his direction, stopping only when she came up against the cliff’s edge. “I can’t believe you were just lurking down there. I take it back—I can believe it. What were you hoping to hear, you twisted little bastard?”
“No need for name calling. And to be honest, I’d rather have no father than have yours, Verida darling.” He smiled pleasantly and flew in, lowering Grey to the ground and landing beside him. “I wasn’t hoping for anything, just acting out of habit. Listen first, act second.”
Looking at them both standing there, safe, Rune’s eyes welled with tears of gratitude. She ran to Grey, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re OK!”
He stiffened. “Uh, yeah. I’m all right.” When she didn’t let go, he awkwardly reached around, gave her a halfhearted pat on the back, and pulled away.
Confused, she frowned.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rolled his shoulders forward—looking very much like the old Grey as he stared at his feet. “Valerian didn’t make it.”
She’d been so excited to see him alive that she’d missed the grief rolling off him in waves. No sentiment could express her sorrow besides the most basic, and she offered it, feeling woefully inadequate. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged, not out of acceptance but to show that words had failed him.
“Thank you, Beltran,” Rune said, “for bringing him back.”
“Anything for the lady.” He ducked his head in a bow.
Verida guffawed. “What were you doing out there anyway, Beltran? I made it clear you were to stay away from them!”
“Clear?” Beltran cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, you made yourself veeery clear. But you never asked if I agreed.”
“I don’t care if you agree!”
“Here we go,” Tate muttered.
“You don’t own me, Verida. Never have.”
“Stop it.” Grey was quiet but firm enough to stop the conversation. “Without Beltran, I’d be dead.”
Verida’s face puckered like she’d swallowed a lemon.
“How did you escape?” Rune asked. “I watched you go off that cliff, and . . .” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”
“Well,” Beltran drawled, “after we dove off the cliff and plummeted a few hundred feet while on fire, Grey took out one of the dragon’s eyes . . . with a bolt”—he winked—“while floating down the river.”
Tate laughed out loud. “Disabled a dragon on his first day. I knew you were special, Grey.”
Grey rolled his shoulders even further forward. He looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. “Arwin helped too.”
“Yes, but after you took out that eye,” Beltran corrected.
“Arwin was there?” Verida’s eyes went blank, and she looked like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. “Dimitri will not be happy.”
“I’m certain Arwin has no intention of announcing his involvement,” Beltran said. “A bolt to the eye is a reasonable explanation for how they survived—nothing else needs to be mentioned. Neither Tate nor Arwin were there, and if rumor ever suggests I was there, well . . .” He held both arms out with a flourish, like a magician revealing a trick. “I was just having a little fun, that’s all.”
“This is ridiculous!” Rune burst out. “If the council wants us so badly, why leave us out there to die without offering any help?”
“Because nobody listens to me. That’s why!” Verida snapped. “I tell you to keep your mouth shut at dinner, but do you? No. I told you this was a bad idea—does anyone care? No. Dimitri saw a little too much and is convinced his two Venators are weak, softhearted, and utterly useless. He’d rather procure another set from your side, even if it takes twenty years.”
Beltran whistled. “Not good.”
“And the rest of the council?” Tate asked. “Do you think they feel the same?”
“I don’t think so—at least, not all of them. When I mentioned the council . . .” She gulped. “It didn’t go well. Dimitri had a very specific idea of the type of Venator he was looking for when he proposed their return. What he wants is—”
“Ryker,” Rune whispered.
“Exactly,” Tate said grimly.
Verida continued. “I tried to tell you earlier that in order to survive this world, you need the council’s help. And if you want their help, I need you to put on a show. Convince Dimitri you have darkness lurking inside. Especially you, Rune.”
Grey looked daggers over the roof of the stable to the rising wall of the council house. “They need to know I won’t stand here and let people die.”
“No.” Verida shook her head. “Bad. Very bad.”
Grey turned to stare at her incredulously. “You really want me doing what the council asks?”
“We want you acting on your own,” Tate clarified. “But you’ll need to acquiesce to a few requests to prove you’re worth keeping alive. It’s a delicate balance, one of deception and careful word play. You both could do a lot of good, but not if you’re dead or embroiled in a deadly cat-and-mouse game with Dimitri. For now, we need to repair the damage that’s been done and get you both back in Dimitri’s good graces.”
“And how are we doing that?” At Tate’s calm, impassive gaze, Verida rolled her eyes. “You already have a plan. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’ve learned that you don’t listen very well when you’re angry,” Tate said.
Beltran snorted with laughter, and Verida shot him a death glare. He shrugged. “It’s true.”
“You were so angry you didn’t even ask me about that.” Tate jerked his head in the direction of the bag he’d laid against the stable. “I know you can smell it. You don’t think I brought home a random head, do you?”
“Cashel,” Verida said. Her shoulders relaxed. “That might do it.”
“Grey, are you ready to present this to Dimitri?”
“No.” Rune squared her shoulders. “Let me do it.”
Tate’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
“Because Grey isn’t in a state to do that right now. Look at him—he’s grieving. We need to show Dimitri we’re strong, that we’re the Venators for the job. Right now, I’m the one to do that.”
Tate peered, looking at Rune, Grey, Beltran, and back again. It was obvious that Rune’s speech had left him completely unconvinced of her motivation.
Verida sighed. “No, she’s right. I already hinted that Rune has what he’s looking for. Dimitri hasn’t felt grief or remorse in so many years, I doubt he remembers what it feels like. The only view he has on such emotions is that they’re signs of weakness. Grey is noticeably upset to the human eye, so imagine what I’m seeing.”
“I don’t know, Rune,” Tate said. “You were a wreck in the dining room. Dimitri already thinks you’re weak.”
“All the more reason for me to go. I need to prove I’m not who he thinks I am.”
“I could stand to have a little faith restored in me as well,” Verida said. “If Rune can prove that what I said was right, Dimitri will be less suspicious of my reports.”
Tate was still hesitant—Rune could tell by the set of his jaw—but he held out the bag, soaked black with Cashel’s blood.
“No,” Rune said. “Have Grey carry it. I don’t want Dimitri to smell it until after we’ve talked.”
Verida’s eyes glanced at Beltran. “Good idea,” she said dryly. “I wonder how you thought of it, Rune.”
Beltran smirked. “She’s a smart girl.”
Cat and Mouse
They snuck back in the way they’d come, through the tunnels and the weapons room. As they passed the kitchen, Rune worried about the bloody bag Grey hauled. But the staff had been well coached on proper etiquette, as Verida put it, and no one stopped their work to stare at the Venators.
They headed into a new wing of the castle.
“Weren’t there any doors coming off the servant tunnels we could’ve used to get here?” Grey asked.
“No. Dimitri had the one closest to his quarters walled up. And the rest of the doors only access the main hallways, not the residencies.”
“What’s the point in that?” Rune asked under her breath.
“They were built to allow the servants to move around during events without disrupting the guests.” Verida slowed near a square oak pillar, putting a hand on Grey’s arm. “This is as far as we go. Any closer, and we risk Dimitri picking up the scent.”
Rune’s breath caught in her throat as she stared down the long hallway. Dark wood panels ran from floor to ceiling. The wall sconces burned low, casting the hall in an eerie light. The shadows looked like fingers, shaking a warning, and she was half-tempted to listen.
“You’re sure Dimitri’s in the study?”
“That’s where he always goes when he’s angry, so yes.”
“Just perfect.” Rune tried to wipe her sweaty palms on her black pants, but they were covered in a thick layer of dirt and grit and blood.
“Hey,” Grey said gently. “You’ve got this, Jenkins.”
The name brought back years of competitions and reminded her what she was capable of. She grinned and nodded.
Game face.
“Leave your weapons here,” Verida said. “All of them.”
As she placed one foot in front of the other, it felt like the hall stretched out even farther in response, creating a never-ending journey. It was her own fear causing the illusion, but knowing that didn’t seem to lessen the effect.
This is for Ryker. You can do anything for Ryker.
Grey and Verida were under the impression that she was going in to beg for forgiveness and then subsequently offer up Cashel’s head as restitution for their wrongs. But she had another plan in mind. Beltran had given her a few bits of advice on how to get what she wanted, and at this point, it was all or nothing. She chose to roll the dice.
Stopping at the twelfth door on the left, Rune turned to face it, slowly exhaling a mouthful of jitters. Beltran’s advice whispered in her mind. Dimitri likes strength in his allies and his opponents. Don’t knock when you reach the study—just go in. This seemed like a good way to piss him off before they got started. But knowing nothing about this world or Dimitri, Rune heeded the advice and grabbed the iron knob, pushing the door open without knocking.
