White Winter (The Black Year Series Book 2) (26 page)

“As much as we appreciate the clan leader’s efforts, Mrs. Black,” the jackal said, “the woman died. The boy who survived only remembers your son’s knee in his back while he tried to keep his face out of his parents’ blood. And there’s no proof the other team - if there was one - wasn’t with the Agency.”

“I’ve given you my word, gentlemen,” Alice said.

The big werewolf leaned forward. “It wasn’t so long ago you were killing my people wholesale, Mrs. Black. Both the Agency and the Foundation have done this sort of thing in the past. The council trusts you, of course-”

“Of course,” the jackal echoed.

“-but the werewolf community doesn’t. They’re scared of you. This was either a brutal return to the old way of doing things, or you have no control over your organization. It’s going to take more than gun footage and words.”

“With all due respect,” the jackal added.

“Of course,” the big werewolf echoed.

Alice’s jaw clenched. Jonas saw a bead of sweat run down the big werewolf’s face. The jackal remained impassive. “Very well,” she said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Black,” the jackal said. “We’ll convene the council and meet in New York City within the week.”

♘

Once they were gone, Alice sat back in her chair and sighed, her eyes distant.

“Are you okay, mom?”

She looked at him as if she was confused, for a moment, but then it was gone. “I’m fine, Jonas. I just wish your father was here. Or Phillip.” She stood and stepped behind his wheelchair. “You’re going to get dragged into this, Jonas. There are too many different interests in play, and any plan Marcus put in motion will try to divide and conquer.”

“Okay,” Jonas said, not sure what she was talking about.

She gently touched the side of his head, then started pushing him toward the door. “What I mean to say is, if there’s anything that’s been troubling you, anything you’ve been waiting to take care of, do it now. You may not get a chance, later.” She opened the door and pushed him into the hallway before closing it again. “Do you remember what I taught you that morning, in the morgue?”

Jonas was having trouble focusing with the pain. “Yeah, I remember. The thing with the stars. I just don’t know what it has to do with anything. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Jonas. When you need it, you’ll know. I believe in you. You have your father’s character, and your mother’s temper, and some things you just have to learn for yourself.”

♘

Kieran lowered him into the vat. It was just a drawer in the morgue, filled two-thirds of the way up with blood. He was naked - no bandages or briefs - and most of his skin was covered in second or third-degree burns, even the parts that hadn’t been exposed to sunlight. On the plus side, his self-esteem would probably never sink lower.

“The virus reacts with saliva to recode the blood with your genetic information, so it’s better to keep your mouth open,” the doctor said, wringing his hands. “Inhale, if you can,” the doctor said.

He slid himself forward until his feet touched the far end, then started leaning back.

“Good. Very Good. We’ll see you in a few days. Samples to take.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up, clan leader,” Kieran said.

The blood covered his face.

He floated there for a moment, mouth open, blood covering every inch of his body. There was a muted clunk, and the world went from red to black as they locked him in, then vacuumed the air out. The vat was sealed against light, air, sound, and magic.
I’m literally a brain in a jar.

He felt for the sides of the vat, just to convince himself they were still there. They were. After a few more minutes, some part of his vampire brain recognized what was going on and he inhaled. His lungs filled with blood. His last thought before he fell into a dreamless sleep was,
I hope I’m still full-vampire enough I don’t pee while I’m in here.

CHAPTER 25

Jonas sat up, grabbed the edges of the drawer, and tried to breathe. He gagged, then his body spasmed and he threw up blood.
Hurk!
It came out of him in a stream, mixed with bile and foam.
Hurk!
He took quick, ragged breaths, blinking against the painfully bright light.

“It’s okay, Jonas,” Kieran said. “I’m right here. It’s okay.”

Jonas gasped and clutched his ribs. His chest hurt. He had a stitch in his side. His teeth chattered, and he rocked back and forth. “How long was I out?” he asked.

“Three days,” the doctor said. “Perfectly normal. Skin’s grown back; try to stay still while I take a sample. Is this the first time you’ve woken up?”

“Yes,” Jonas said, squeezing his eyes, then opening them.

“Hmm.”

“What do you mean, ‘hmm’? How many times was I supposed to wake up?” Jonas asked.

“Anywhere from four to six times, on your first try,” the doctor said. “Older vampires sleep through. Hold still.” He put a rubber tourniquet around Jonas’ arm and started prodding at the inside of his elbow. The skin was smooth and flexible again. Jonas looked away as the needle slid in. He opened and closed his left hand, turning it around to make sure the damage was healed. Then he remembered.

He felt under the blood’s surface, but he couldn’t really tell. He tried to push himself up, but his arm was too weak.

“Hold
still
, Mr. Black!” the doctor said, switching out the tube in the needle.

Jonas looked at Kieran. “Dude! Pull me out!”

“Done,” the doctor said, scowling. He yanked the needle out. Jonas winced.

Kieran reached under his arms and hauled him out of the vat. His legs almost went out from under him, but Kieran kept him on his feet.

Jonas looked down. Blood ran off his body, down the sloped floor and into the drain. He sighed in relief.

“What possible reason could you have to be in such a hurry?” the doctor said.

“Nothing, doc. Sorry. Just gave myself a bit of a scare.” He chuckled. Everything had grown back the way it was supposed to.

♘

Kieran held the door for him and Eve, then followed them out. It was below freezing again, and Jonas wasn’t supposed to burn blood, so he’d had to dress warmly, but at least he didn’t have to worry about sunlight yet.

“You okay, sweetie?” Eve said.

“Yeah.”

They started walking north.

“How’s everything going with Amelia, man?” Jonas asked.

“Okay, I guess. We had a rough week when we found out I’m… you know. But she seems to still like me.”

Eve snorted.

“What?” Jonas asked.

“Boys. Werewolves. Both. Do you really think she’s upset you can’t have kids? She’s 16! And I don’t care how much of a life planner she is, you’re just dating.”

“What is it, then?” Kieran said.

“She’s probably pissed another one of her boyfriends is in mourning,” Eve said.

Kieran looked at Jonas. “She’s probably right,” Jonas said, feeling his face heat.

“I am. Call it intuition,” Eve said. “Boys are so stupid, sometimes.”

Jonas looked at Kieran and shrugged. Kieran shrugged back. How were they supposed to know this kind of stuff?

“Excuse me, clan leader?” a voice said.

A homeless man stood in a nearby doorway, and Jonas stiffened. The man was only wearing sneakers, jeans, and a gray sweatshirt with the hood up with an olive military jacket over it, but he didn’t seem cold.

“Yes?” Jonas said.

“I’d like to join your clan, sir,” the man said.

Kieran growled in his throat. “He’s diseased, clan leader.”

The man flinched.

“I can smell it on him,” Kieran said, sniffing loudly.

Slowly, the man pushed back his hood. His skin was mottled. Most of his face was walnut brown, like Frank’s, but he had not-quite-symmetrical patches that were as pale as Eve’s.

“It’s just vitiligo,” Jonas said. Eve looked at him in surprise. He shrugged. “I thought my parents had PCT, I’m kind of a skin condition buff.” He turned to the homeless guy and said, “Is that the only thing different about you?”

“Yes, clan leader,” the man said. The hope in his eyes was heartbreaking.

Kieran shook his head. “It’s a mutation, clan leader. He’s only coming to you because no one else will take him. Anyone he fathers or turns will have the same defect.”

Jonas winced at the word
defect
. “Okay, so he can’t breed or turn people, but-”

No.

Jonas staggered.

“Jonas, are you okay?” Eve said.

Jonas frowned and looked at the homeless man. The poor guy was on the edge of tears.

♘

Phillip picked him up by the throat and slammed him into the tree trunk. “I said no, boy! You will
not
bring that abomination into my home, or associate it with my bloodline.”

♘

“Jonas?” Kieran said, waiting for him.

“Sorry,” Jonas said, running to catch up. “I got distracted.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetie?” Eve said, touching his arm. “You were pretty harsh with that guy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be so cruel to someone.”

Jonas blinked. He didn’t remember any of that. Had he blacked out? He opened his mouth to say something and was swept under again.

♘

“—and I told her how Phillip challenged Ewan Gregor - my mother’s dad - for her hand, and Ewan assigned my mom as his champion, so my mom and dad fought a duel over their own wedding.”

Jonas just sat there, speechless. The story seemed familiar, he just wasn’t sure where he’d heard it.

“And she couldn’t throw the fight, even though she liked my dad,” Kieran said.

“Because that would have been unworthy of the old ways,” Amelia added, rolling her eyes.

“So she really went after him, claws, teeth, and all,” Kieran said, as if she was describing a romantic engagement and not a blood match.

“What happened after that?” Jonas asked.

“Bitten, clawed, bleeding profusely, having beaten my mother into unconsciousness, my dad limped over to Ewan and asked, ‘Why would you do that to your daughter?’, and Ewan Gregor, pack-leader in Brooklyn and terror of the eastern seaboard, winked and said—”

“‘Because that’s what every day of your marriage is going to be like!’” Amelia said, stealing the punchline.

Jonas laughed. Knowing Lettie, that was probably true.

♘

Oh God, what’s happening to me?
Jonas thought, gripping the sides of the sink. He felt like he had a lead weight in his stomach. He’d been sitting with Eve, Kieran, and Amelia a second ago, and now he was back in his room. He had blood on his lips. His mouth tasted like raw meat. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there.

He looked up, and Sam stared back at him from the mirror with glowing yellow eyes.

CHAPTER 26

“What are you doing to me, Sam?” Jonas asked the mirror.

“What I’ve always done. I’m keeping us safe.”

“Us? There’s no us, Sam! You’re a fragment of
my
mind that watches over
my
barrier. That’s it.”

“Yes, well, you’re not the only one in here anymore are you?” Sam said, smirking.

“We’ll see about that,” Jonas said, turning to leave the room. He felt Sam’s arm snake around his neck and he struggled, knocking his toothbrush and drinking glass on the floor as Sam pulled him through the mirror.

♘

He slammed into the mats on the floor of the Macreadys’ basement. Stars danced across his eyes.

Phillip squatted next to him, sympathy written on his broad features. “This isn’t worth fighting over, Jonas. You’re not ready to be a clan leader, and you’re not ready to face the Council of Elders. Let me handle it.”

Jonas took a stuttering breath, coughed, then said, “If you’re so great, why are you dead?” He turned his head to the side and watched as Marcus Fangston drove a silver short sword through Phillip’s back.

Phillip fell forward. His mouth bubbled with black foam when he said, “I was coming to save you, you ungrateful whelp.”

♘

Jonas frowned and stood, brushing leaves from his pants. “You’re right,” he said.

Phillip looked disoriented by the change in scenery. “Of course I’m right,” he growled. “I was born to present a winter wolf to the Council.”

Jonas shook his head, stepping out from the great oak’s shadow. “That’s not what I meant. You came to save me. I was almost unconscious, and I watched you die.”

“That’s right,” Phillip said, poking him in the chest. “You owe me.”

“I imprinted you. You’re not real.” Jonas willed a silver short sword into his hand and stabbed Phillip in the heart.

♘