“Noah Grey,” he said. “Where is Jade?”

  “How did I know that would be your first question?” The vampire chuckled, the sound grating in the silence. No breath moved his chest, no blood through his veins, no heartbeat. “She is healing elsewhere.”

  Alek was unsure if he would know if the vampire lied to him, and the thought fueled his rising anger. “Why have you done this?” The vampire wanted Samir’s heart, that much was clear. He had been behind the mage in the Frank, and so in Alek’s mind was responsible for Trueheart and the others who had died from that mage’s evil experiments. He growled as the vampire took a while to answer.

  “I did not do this,” Noah said, waving a hand to indicate Alek’s scarred body. “But we must make do with what we have, no? If Jade gives me what I want, this little stay here will be but a moment in your very long lives together.”

  A lifetime of living with people who could read every heartbeat, micro-expression, and breath kept Alek from reacting. The image of Jade’s blood-soaked face as she pushed her D20 into her mouth filled his mind, but he brushed it away. Even if she had it to give, Jade would never hand over Samir’s heart to the vampire. Hopefully.

  A small voice in his mind whispered that was not true. She had eaten it to save him; the love and desperation in her eyes before the light went out affirmed that in ways no words ever would. Samir’s heart was no longer hers to give, not without giving her own up.

  Alek was not sure Jade would see how poor a trade that was. Which left one solution. He had to get out here before it became an issue.

  “I know where the heart is,” Alek said, pitching his voice low and calm.

  Noah laughed. “I imagine you do. Let me guess, you will tell me if I set you free?” The words were accompanied by no change in expression despite the mirth in them, as though the vampire was not bothering to pretend to humanity or life.

  “Why not?”

  “It may come to that,” Noah said, his voice going somber. “But you are worth more to me this way, for now.”

  It was clear by “that” the vampire meant torturing the answer out of Alek or some similar plan. Alek knew they would find he did not break so easily. He would bash his brains out upon these bars before he betrayed Jade that way. Torture only truly worked in movies.

  “Come closer,” he growled to the vampire. “Perhaps we can work this out between us.” Alek stepped close to the bars again, flexing his hands.

  The vampire did not flinch, exactly, but he did move away, stepping back into the shadows. “Enjoy your stay with us,” Noah said as he left, his steps as silent going as they had been entering.

  This time Alek heard the door close, the sound traveling around the space until he had some idea of the size of the room. Large. Mostly empty. Electricity hummed in the light cords. His breathing rasped. Alek sat down to wait and plan.

  The first time a human pushed a protein shake bottle through the bars, Alek did nothing. He waited until the two men backed away before picking up the bottle from the ground. He waited until they were gone to drink it, then carefully set the empty bottle back on the other side of the bars. One of the men had a cattle prod, which amused Alek. He could take so much more pain than that would offer. But he still had no idea how to open the cage. So he waited, watching, timing each visit, looking for weakness or change.

  The next time someone came, there were three of them. They ordered him to put the empty water jug at the bars and step back. Alek complied, not bothering to ask these minions questions. They had a bought-and-paid for look about them with their identical tailored suits and haircuts. They even smelled of the same soap and aftershave. Company men. It did not surprise him that the vampire employed such. Familiar smells and looks would be soothing to someone with heightened senses, and would promote a sense of order for the humans to feel more comfortable around a predator. They filled his water jug from one they had brought with them. Alek watched this process with interest, for it brought two of them close to the bars, one having to reach through to steady the jug while the other aimed the spout on the refill.

  They fed him random things. Protein shakes in little bottles. A package of pre-cut apples. A string of salty sausages. The men were clearly under a “no conversation” rule; they did not even talk amongst themselves, much less to respond to the easy questions Alek tried to tempt them with from time to time.

  It was always the same two or three. Alek assigned them names based on their looks and mannerisms. Big was the one who acted more in charge, always holding the cattle prod and ordering the other two with gestures to do whatever they had come to do. Sandy was the blond who walked like his hips were out of alignment. They were the main two, the third man came only when the water needed refilling. Alek dubbed him Meat, because he was the one who reached through the cage, and Alek had plans for him.

  He debated breaking the toilet to see if they would come in and fix it, but had the feeling that should be a last resort. It would not shock him if they left it broken and started hosing him down or some nonsense, so that plan went to the back of his mind. He was underfed but not uncomfortable in the cage. It was large enough he could shift and pace, or stretch out to sleep, which he did in short bursts to keep his strength up. The lights were constant, no way to measure time except in the brief visits of his captors. The vampire did not return for conversation, despite Alek’s many requests to the minions to bring him.

  The water jug sat at the edge of the cage, empty. Alek knelt on his foam pad, his head down, eyes closed. He heard the door open, the echoing sound of three pairs of rubber-soled shoes, and the soft breaths of the men, one laboring slightly more than the others as he carried a large jug of water. Alek remained still, eyes closed.

  The men drew close to the cage. A buttoned suit cuff made a muffled ting against the bars as Meat reached through to steady Alek’s water jug.

  Alek remained still, eyes closed.

  Water started to move from one jug to the other. Sandy’s breathing smoothed out as the jug in his hands grew easier to hold, its weight transferring to the jug being steadied by Meat. The flow of water slowed, the sound changing as the refill emptied. Sandy’s feet scuffed against the concrete floor as he started to move back.

  Alek struck. The men had forgotten whatever warnings about shifter speed they had been told, lulled by his previous passivity. The shock was evident on their faces as he moved before their prey brains could kick into fight or flight. Alek stomped down on Meat’s arm, snapping it against the cross-bars of the cage and trapping him there with body weight. Alek slid his hands through the cage and caught the lapels of a too-slow Sandy, slamming him against the bars. With one hand securing Sandy, Alek withdrew his other, reaching lower to snag Meat’s gloriously long ponytail. A sharp twist and the screaming man’s neck wrenched enough that he screamed no more.

  Big reacted, rushing the bars with the cattle prod. Alek released Meat and caught the prod full into his left hand, his right still a vise grip on the struggling Sandy’s jacket and shirt. Pain lanced through him as the electricity in the prod fired and Alek laughed through it as he wrapped his hand around the stick and yanked. Big smashed into the cage bars and rebounded back, the prod now in Alek’s hand. Before Big could regain composure, Alek pulled the prod through and flipped it around, his hand on the trigger. He slammed Sandy into the bars twice until the man ceased struggling and sagged, then released him long enough to gain a better grip on his neck, flattening Sandy’s body to the bars.

  “Tell your boss I would like to talk,” Alek said with bared teeth. He doubted that this man had the means to open his cage. It would be better to deal with the head of the snake.

  Big stood for a moment in the lights, shaking his head. He wiped blood from where the bars had cut his forehead and stared at his hand, as though if he wished hard enough, all of this would replay differently. It was a testament to his training and character that he calmed his breathing, looked Alek in the eye with a grimace, and nodded before leaving at only a half run.

  Sandy woke up and put up another struggle before Alek convinced him with the cattle prod to remain still. They were pressed nearly body to body against the bars, Alek staring down at the frightened man’s face and occasionally flexing his grip on the man’s neck.

  “I’m just following orders,” Sandy sputtered, the sad excuse of all men who think working for bad people doing bad things does not reveal their own weakness of character.

  Alek bared his teeth again and the man fell silent.

  Big did not return. The door opened again and Alek knew from the silence that it was the vampire.

  “You were a perfect guest till now,” Noah lamented, looking at the mess the quick fight had left. “That man had a family, you know.” He gestured to Meat’s corpse.

  “We all make choices,” Alek said. “Does this one have a family? Perhaps we can negotiate now.”

  “That one? No, he’s single with no siblings and his mother died of cancer three years ago. I doubt even she knew who his father was.”

  “Sir, please,” Sandy said, stopping abruptly as Alek squeezed his throat. The man wet himself, the stench mingling with the sharp scent of his fear.

  “I would prefer you not slaughter my people,” Noah said, his tone still conversational but his silver eyes narrowed.

  “I would prefer not to be in a cage,” Alek said. “Let me out and no one dies. No one else dies,” he amended.

  “You were so patient, and yet you chose this night of all nights to rebel. Interesting. It is almost like your primal brain knows, perhaps?” Noah cocked his head to the side in a way that reminded Alek of being eyed by an eagle in the forests of his youth. The vampire’s words chilled him, raising hairs along his neck and spine.

  “Knows what?” he growled.

  “Jade has proven troublesome, which I suppose surprises neither of us. She ate Samir’s heart, didn’t she?”

  Alek did not react that he could feel, but perhaps his heartbeat changed for half a breath; perhaps his mouth flattened slightly or his chin rose a touch. Whatever gave it away, whatever confirmed what the vampire suspected, Alek had no control over it, but he saw it in the vampire’s face, a certainty, a firmness that had been missing and now appeared between one moment and the next.

  “You will be free of that cage soon enough,” Noah said, his meaning cryptic, making the words sinister instead of comforting. “I would prefer you not kill anyone else.”

  Alek looked down into Sandy’s hazel eyes. “I learned the hard way that following orders is not always the best idea,” he said to the terrified man. He tossed the cattle prod over his shoulder and then used his other hand to help snap the unfortunate minion’s neck, releasing the body to slide down the bars.

  “Yes, well, enjoy your last night here,” Noah said with a grimace that was definitely all for show, though Alek surmised he did it from habit more than desire.

  “Jade will come for me,” Alek said. “She will never stop coming for me.” He knew this in his heart in the way that he knew water was wet and humans died when you separated or crushed the upper vertebra of their necks.

  “She already has,” Noah said as he retreated into the shadows. “That is the problem. So I am going to have to make you someone else’s problem.”

  Alek shivered, finally feeling the creeping hollowness of fear. He had expected the vampire might kill him if he were no longer useful, though that would incur Jade’s wrath forever, but with those parting words, Alek realized death was not to be his fate.

  If his instincts were correct, and they were rarely wrong, the vampire was about to hand him over to the First. Death would have been kinder. His fate would likely be far, far worse.

  Exhausted in spirit and body, we gathered again in the small room where the plan had hatched the night before. This time there was no giddy feeling of reunion, no anticipation. I could barely look in my friends’ eyes, not wanting to see pity or grief or perhaps my own roiling tumult of emotions reflected. The drive that had sustained me all through fighting Samir’s mind-ghost, dealing with Ainsley, escaping and confronting the vampire, raising Lilith… all of that was drained away, leaving a raw hole in my chest and a heaviness to my limbs.

  This feeling had a name. I’d danced with it many times before. When my mother sent me away from the only home and life I’d ever known. After Samir killed Ji-hoon and my second family. When Jasper died. Kneeling in the snow watching Alek dying in front of me while my heart beat in Samir’s hand in those moments before I’d turned back time itself and changed the world. Waking and realizing that I’d watched Alek dying in the truck, watching him dying over and over as Samir tortured me through memory and dream.

  Despair. I thought it only, not saying the word aloud as people settled in around me. Harper sat close, but not quite touching. The weight of my friends’ gazes rested on me like stones crushing the guilty. Expectant gazes, in my imagination, since I lacked the courage to open my eyes. I was supposed to be the big badass. I was supposed to save them.

  I curled my legs up onto the cot and squeezed my eyes more tightly shut. The black wave rising in my mind couldn’t be allowed to drown me. I choked back the words I wanted to scream at them, these caring, trusting faces that loved me. Didn’t they realize I’d always failed everyone? In the end, I had. Every damned time.

  “It’s late.” Ezee’s voice pushed through my hopelessness, gentle and comforting. “The First already has Alek; not much is likely to change in the middle of the night. We can figure out a new plan tomorrow. Freyda said you can sleep in here, Jade. Rosie is bringing blankets.”

  I wasn’t tired, not in a sleepy way. I was just tired down to my core of failing. I wanted Alek back. I wanted his strong arms around me and him telling me it would be okay in his deep voice. I wanted to be able to look him in the eye and tell him the same.

  I opened my eyes and met Ezee’s dark gaze. “If it were your mate in Schrödinger’s proverbial box, would you be able to sleep right now?”

  “I’d be doing something rash and likely suicidal,” Levi said.

  Ezee sighed. “I can’t argue with that.”

  “I’ll get snacks, then,” Levi said, his forced cheerful tone dragging my attention to him. He stood next to his twin, and while his face held concern, I was relieved that there was no pity there. “All-night planning sessions need snacks.”

  “I don’t have a plan,” I said. The words hurt to say aloud, as though they gained more weight, more finality.

  “Of course you don’t,” Harper said sharply. She linked an arm with me and twined her fingers through mine. “You’ve been in captivity for weeks, we just had a minor wrench thrown into things by that fucking vampire, and we haven’t even begun to catch you up on what we know here. If you need time to rest and deal with what happened tonight, it’s okay. This crisis has been weeks in the making, maybe months. It can wait a few hours.”

  Somehow her words did what nothing else had since I’d taken out Ainsley and confirmed that Alek was alive. Tears flooded my eyes and ran down my face before I could so much as blink them away, much less try to stop them. I squeezed her hand and leaned into her strong shoulder, letting myself cry for a few breaths. Letting myself feel and be held.

  Levi and Ezee both left, giving us space, and for the first time, Harper and I were alone.

  “I failed,” I said. “Why do you keep trusting me?”

  “Wow, self-pity party at one AM,” Harper said.

  Her green gaze was intense but kind as I met her eyes. I wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my teeshirt.

  “I don’t have a plan,” I said again.

  “What’s with the ‘I’ there, team player? We don’t have a plan. Yet. And really, we’ve been waging a sort of guerilla war against the First for weeks. The Alpha of Alphas isn’t exactly a pushover or without resources.” Harper didn’t mention what we both knew from the details they’d given me the night before. They were waging a war, and slowly losing.

  She had a point even so. I wasn’t alone. This wasn’t solely my problem to solve.

  “Also, if you think about it, the vampire did us a favor.”

  “A favor?” I raised my eyebrows, wondering how Captain Optimism here was going to spin this one.

  “We already had to deal with the First, right? Well, now we can deal with the First and get Alek back. Two problems, one stone.” Harper grinned. “Also, the vampire is gonna to kick himself later when he realizes what a prime opportunity he missed.”

  I raised my brows higher.

  “Have you ever seen a more perfect moment for a ‘your princess is in another castle’ quote?”

  Ezee came back into the room, sparing Harper’s life. He was followed by Freyda, Lara, Rose, and Levi. The last three were carrying blankets, bottles of water, and crackers.

  “Iollan is recharging in case we need him,” Ezee said, glancing between Harper and me. I didn’t ask about Brie and Ciaran. They had done what they could, it seemed, and if there was more aid they could render, they would likely have offered. They knew the rules and boundaries of the Fey better than any of us.

  “I’m telling Alek you called him a princess,” I murmured for Harper’s ears only.

  “He’s going to demand a tiara,” she whispered back. Neither of us could quite summon a laugh, but we smiled at each other, much to the confusion of everyone else. Then we got down to business, my heart lighter, friendship lifting the weight of despair so I could get to work.

  Levi mentioned that Junebug sent her love but had to sleep—the baby was wiping the floor with her energy levels. We arranged ourselves much as before, and I forced myself to eat a few crackers that tasted like dust while everyone laid out what we knew and didn’t know about the First’s operations.