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Authors: Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

BOOK: The Den of Shadows Quartet
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Trust was an almost obscene word inside the mercenary world; it meant you were always susceptible to betrayal. Turquoise was struck with the desire to argue with Jaguar as soon as he spoke the word, but he was right. She
did
trust him, to the point where she had not even flinched for a knife when she had seen him. She had taken him at his word that he meant her no harm in this visit.

Jaguar changed the subject. “You might like to know Jeshickah will be out of the way very soon. There’s a Triste by the name of Jesse who seems to think he has enough allies of his own to risk offending hers, and is willing to deal with her for a highly exorbitant price.” Tristes had the strengths of vampires and witches combined, as well as blood that was deadly to any vampire that tried to feed on them. It made them the perfect vampire hunters.

“How long will this take?” Turquoise asked. Vampires often judged time differently than humans did.

“A few weeks, maybe a month,” Jaguar answered.

“I assume then Eric will be able to go back safely?”

“He may be a kid, but he did a lot of work there; it’s chaos without him,” Jaguar admitted. “You’ll be welcome back once she’s gone, too,” he ventured. “Not as a slave. Just a guest. Or, if you ever get bored with Bruja, the town of Pyrige has plenty of spaces for people willing to work.”

“I’ll consider it.” She shrugged. “What’s happening with Ravyn?”

“She’s living it up, enjoying abusing Gabriel’s power. It’s more likely she’ll enslave him than the other way
around.” He smiled wryly. “Gabriel has a fondness for women who are willing to kill him; it’s a dangerous habit of his.”

“And yours,” Turquoise observed.

Jaguar paused for a reflective moment. “I like to think you would at least hesitate before trying to kill me. If I’m wrong, kindly don’t correct me. I enjoy my illusions,” he added, attempting to lighten the mood. “Ravyn said something about hoping you still plan to show up for Challenge?” His tone made the words a question.

“Ravyn and I are rivals. Challenge will determine who gets to lead Crimson. If I don’t show, Ravyn gets the title.” She was about to add,
“If I do show, she’ll beat me, then get the title,”
when she remembered who she was talking to. “Would you like to help me practice?”

“What’s the weapon?”

“Whip.”

He looked intrigued. “You know how to use one?”

“Just barely.”

Jaguar shrugged. “There’s not much time, but I’ll teach what I can. Maybe you’ll turn out to have a knack for it.”

“Or maybe I’ll take out my own eye,” Turquoise retorted. In a way, she hoped she would lose miserably, and have an excuse to quit Bruja. Recent events had given her too much doubt.

As always, Jaguar was painfully astute. “Do you want to win?”

“Yes.” After a moment, she changed her answer to, “I don’t want to lose to Ravyn. I’m just not sure I want the title.”

Jaguar nodded. “There’s something that might help you make your choice,” he informed her. “Ravyn’s worried you’ll chicken out of Challenge, so she made a deal with Gabriel. He bought you from Jeshickah; if you win at Challenge, he’ll make you legally free-blood.”

Turquoise frowned. “I’m free now. I don’t care about the legalities.”

“Maybe not,” Jaguar acknowledged, “but if you want to work in our world you will.” He continued, “Shape-shifters and witches are born free. Only their own kind can sell them to Midnight. Humans don’t have that protection; any vampire can pick them up and claim them, just like Daryl did with you.”

“And if I take this title Gabriel is offering?”

“Freeblood means you’ll be treated like one of us. It doesn’t mean no one’s allowed to kill you, but it does mean none of us can claim you. It means the next time you work with our mercenaries, you don’t have to worry about having someone like Daryl pay them to turn you over instead of helping you. And it means that you can walk into Midnight and even Jeshickah wouldn’t be able to break you.”

And if I kill Daryl?”

“I’m not going to stop you,” Jaguar answered. “Neither will Gabriel. Jeshickah might cause some trouble, but she isn’t fond of him either, and she’ll be out of the picture soon anyway.”

“And then … what if I said that I wanted to give up Bruja?”

Jaguar appeared skeptical. “You can’t go back to what you were before Daryl. You’re still human by
blood, but in your mind and in your soul you’re no more human than most of the vampires I know.”

Turquoise responded flippantly “Maybe I can’t go back. But what’s the other choice? Ask you to open a vein so we fix that little problem of blood?”

She had not considered the words, but once spoken they did not surprise her. If she wouldn’t stay in the twilight, and she couldn’t go back to Cathy’s daylight world, then of course, vampire blood would be the only choice.

Voice cool and level, Jaguar answered, “It’s a viable choice, but not from me. Find someone who’s freeblood if that’s what you want — your mercenary friend Nathaniel, for example. He didn’t hesitate to burn Midnight the first time, or to sell two hunters into it. I’m sure he wouldn’t have any scruples about giving one of Brujas best immortality And get rid of Daryl first. He might have no legal claim over you, but you don’t want him arguing ownership for the next millennium.”

Turquoise had hunted vampires for two years. The idea of becoming one of them should have been sickening.

Should have been
. She found herself contemplating it for a moment.

“I don’t know,” she said. She seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

“Go to Challenge,” Jaguar recommended. “Win. Then decide. If you decide to become one of us, you’ll be strong. If you don’t, you’ll still be able to survive.”

Turquoise nodded, taking the advice. Face Challenge now; save the future for tomorrow.

Jaguar frowned, looking past her, then spoke quietly. “I think this one is looking for you.”

Turquoise turned, following Jaguar’s gaze, and ended up looking at Greg.

The human’s gaze was resting on Jaguar with what wasn’t exactly anger, but wasn’t warm fuzzy friendship, either. He looked away from the vampire to greet Turquoise, but his proverbial hackles were up.

“Cathy hey” He glanced at Jaguar again, and seemed to decide to be polite. “I noticed you and figured I’d swing inside for a moment. Am I interrupting?”

Flustered, Turquoise looked between the two, caught briefly in a hazy shadow. Greg and Jaguar didn’t belong in the same world.

Jaguar covered for her, standing and offering his hand. “I’m Kyle Lostry, one of Cathy’s friends.” Having Jaguar use her childhood nickname struck her in a most unpleasant way.

Greg banked his hostility and accepted Jaguar’s gesture of civilized greeting like someone who had never been lied to or manipulated, someone who expected sincerity “Greg Martin. I knew Cathy in school,” he offered, looking to Turquoise, “but we’ve been out of touch for a while.” He backed off, aware enough to sense awkwardness. “I’ve got to get going; I’m on my way to a job interview.” He looked at Turquoise, and the expression on his face was honest, unschooled. “Give me a call?”

“I will.”

Watching his back as he left, she knew she would. To forestall Jaguar’s questions, she asked, “Who’s Kyle Lostry?”

Jaguar looked startled, as if he had not thought about the name when he had used it. “Someone I knew once — and wish I’d had a chance to know better.”

She sensed that there was a story behind the words. “Is he …” She broke off, not wanting to ask whether this phantom was alive or dead.

Jaguar volunteered no more. “Is your Greg why you’re thinking of leaving Bruja?” he asked. Turquoise couldn’t tell from his tone or expression what he thought of Greg, or the idea.

She shook her head. “I ran into him yesterday. He somehow managed to remind me of all the things I left behind, after Daryl….” She trailed off. “I don’t know whether I could still follow any of those dreams, or whether I would still want to, but it hurts to know I threw them away.”

Jaguar was still watching Greg, who had paused on the sidewalk to talk to someone else. “He’s too innocent for you. His life is too innocent for you.”

“I know.”

Jaguar shook his head. “I’ve never known anyone who joined our world and then managed to go back to the human one.” Turquoise could see in him the same longing she had once seen as he watched Shayla, and could tell he had tried. “You could thrive in my world; darkness suits you. But if you want it, Greg’s world — the world his Cathy came from — might still be worth fighting for.”

CHAPTER 20

D
URING THE NEXT MONTH
, Turquoise’s days and evenings became an interesting study in contrasts.

Her mornings were usually domestic. She or Eric would make breakfast and eat together. A couple of times Greg joined them. Turquoise tried valiantly to bridge the gap to the human’s world. He thought she was a freelancer for a small newspaper, a lie that seemed to work well enough. He also thought she was dating Jaguar, a.k.a. Kyle Lostry. The lies were imperfect, but at least it kept him from getting the wrong impression. She could handle having Cathy’s old boyfriend as a friend, but she quickly realized that they would never be as close as they once were. There was too much of her life she could never share with him. The mischief they had planned together and the dates they had gone on were still bright spots of humor and happiness in his mind, whereas Turquoise remembered them as if they were faded black and white photos. Someone else’s memories, from someone else’s life.

In the afternoons, Jaguar came over, and they practiced until midnight every night. During their breaks, Jaguar would fill her in on what was going on in Midnight, and in his town. The owner of the town’s only inn had decided to elope with a young woman he had met on vacation, and the building, one of the few remaining properties Jaguar had not owned, had gone up for sale; now he was just looking for someone to manage it. He was less than subtle in suggesting that Turquoise could have the position, if she wanted it. She dodged him and they went back to practice.

The owner of the local community recreation center wanted to start a course in self-defense for teenagers, and was looking for an assistant. The job sounded more up Turquoise’s alley, but she still shook her head. Challenge first. Then she planned to kill Daryl. Then she would see to the future.

Over the weeks of practice, Turquoise’s own whip had given her almost as many bruises as Daryl ever had, before she had gotten the knack of it and learned not to hit herself. She was lucky Jaguar had amazing reflexes, or she probably would have taken out her own eye more than once.

She and Jaguar dueled occasionally She used every move, piece of furniture, and dirty trick she could think of, and he kept most of his talent in check to avoid giving her more welts than she cared to receive.

At first she was hesitant to really fight, but Jaguar had offered no mercy until he was sure she was using her full force. He would heal from any wound she managed to give him, but if she got used to trying not to
hurt her opponent, the habit would cripple her in a confrontation.

That was not to say Jaguar ever allowed her to hit him. Mostly he managed to evade her blows, recognizing from her form which direction the weapon would move and where it would land. Occasionally he used his own whip to catch hers, snagging the weapon out of her hand until she learned not to relinquish her hold on it.

Two quick snaps from Jaguar, and Turquoise found an X cut neatly into the stomach of her shirt.

“Careless,” Jaguar chastised. She had tried an overhand snap, which left her mid and lower body unprotected, while Jaguar was in a position to attack the vulnerable area. “Do you need a break? It’s late.”

Turquoise took the opportunity, and faked a setup for a low crack. Jaguar moved to avoid the blow, and she brought the movement around a full circle to strike high. It had taken her days to get over her desire to wince at doing so, but she checked none of her ability; the blow landed home, and cut open Jaguar’s skin.

He ignored the injury which healed too quickly to even bleed, and soon they were again engaged in a no-mercy duel.

It was well past midnight when they finally took a break, and collapsed onto the dew-dampened grass.

Turquoise’s gaze alit on the nearly full moon. Another few days, and she would have her chance to beat Ravyn in the Challenge rematch for leader of Crimson — and she
could
beat the other hunter. She had
been practicing with an expert, and had no doubts as to her skills.

She just didn’t know if she wanted to.

She was getting used to companionship. Eric’s company was always entertaining. She enjoyed having him there for her noontime breakfast, and chatting with him during the day. He liked cooking, and she well-appreciated having dinner made for her; cleaning up afterward was a small price to pay While domestic chores such as shopping and laundry were dreadfully dull, she was getting into the habit of seeing people.

And as annoying as it could sometimes get to discuss college, work, the news, and whatever else was on the all-too-human young man’s mind, she was even getting used to Greg. His conversations were about normal, innocent life; it was so exotic to her that she could listen to what would otherwise have been dull chatter for hours.

But she couldn’t juggle the two lives forever. As fond as she was becoming of her suburban life, she could not ignore what she knew. A human life would never completely suit her, because most humans would deem her mad if she tried to confide even the smallest hint of her past. And, “Yes, I work nights as a vampire hunter,” usually wasn’t a good line to make new friends with.

Maybe Cathy wasn’t dead, but she had grown. Turquoise couldn’t fit into that old life. Besides, as fond as she was of having companions, sitting around in suburbs was making her gray matter go stagnant. She needed challenge; a break was nice now and then, but boredom was not a state she would tolerate for long.

Save tomorrow for tomorrow. Deal with now first
.

CHAPTER 21

T
HE BRUJA HALL
was not imposing from the outside. Anyone looking at its exterior would see nothing more important than a redbrick house with black trim and white shutters that were always latched.

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