This Time Tomorrow Page 17

  Roksana firmed her chin. Her mother’s appeasement, forgiveness, and possibly even approval would be enough to sustain her through this loss, just like the last one. She’d throw herself back into her training and make her mother proud. To memorialize her friends.

  That was the goal that had seen her through the darkness.

  Why was she losing sight of it now?

  Roksana stomped to the hut, ringing the bell, giving her middle finger to the camera that whirred downward to scan her face.

  The door popped open and she stepped inside, closing it behind her.

  The interior of the small room held nothing but a metal elevator door and it rolled open now. After the slightest hesitation, she let herself be enclosed in the elegant car, her stomach dropping when the elevator started to plummet. She’d never actually been to the High Order’s hold before, but Ginny gave her the address once, telling her she’d always have a room ready if the slayer needed one.

  Roksana swallowed the object in her throat and took a long, bracing breath.

  A well-kept vampire stood with his chest puffed out when the elevator door sprang open. A quick once-over of Roksana was followed by an eyebrow raise. If he was scandalized by her leather minidress she’d been wearing since the poker game, he could join all the pearl-clutching mamas on the flight from Moscow. “Too much leg?” She breezed past the vampire into a dark stone hall. “You’re welcome.”

  The hold seemed to be in a state of transition, which made sense since Jonas had only become the new vampire king months earlier. Torches sat unlit on the walls, a man on a ladder unhooked a heavy velvet tapestry and let it drop to a heap on the floor. There was a scent of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies in the air.

  Vampires didn’t eat baked goods.

  Roksana sighed. “You knew I was coming.”

  “Yes,” Ginny squealed, rushing into the hall and throwing her arms around Roksana’s neck, choking the oxygen out of her. Roksana tapped her friend on the back and Ginny released her with a contrite expression. “Sorry, I’m still getting the hang of the whole superhuman abilities thing.”

  Roksana’s lips kicked up at the corner. “I’m sure it’s a complicated process.”

  “Yes. I’m not allowed to have pets yet.” Ginny clasped her hands together beneath her chin. “So. Are you going to tell me why you’ve been pacing back and forth outside for an hour?”

  The slayer sniffed, disgusted when her cheeks burned with color. “Give me cookies and I’ll think about it.”

  Five minutes later, Ginny had led Roksana upstairs to a small, book-lined study. The friends were sprawled out a butter-soft leather couch, their feet stretched out in front of them, bare toes being warmed by a crackling fire. Roksana had the plate balanced on her full stomach. There was one cookie left and it wasn’t a mystery who would be consuming it.

  “Eating with you is no longer fun,” Roksana complained. “There is no one to share the guilt with.”

  Ginny snuggled her face into a pillow, but couldn’t hide her smile. “You seemed to enjoy it just fine. There was nine of them when we sat down.”

  “Rude of you to count. And I didn’t eat on my flight from Moscow.” She used the heel of her hand to rub at the emptiness at the center of her ribcage. “I was hoping food would make this go away.”

  “Make what go away?”

  “I don’t know. Nerves or something.”

  Determined to ignore the discomfort, Roksana set aside the plate hastily and turned on her side to face Ginny. Having a friend at this stage in her life never failed to make Roksana feel indulgent. Like she was giving in to an unwise temptation. How easily she knew friends could be taken away and wasn’t she just an idiot for setting herself up for that pain again? But a welcoming magnetic pull existed around Ginny, an old soul energy, that made it impossible for Roksana to resist. Quite simply, she loved her.

  And this could be the last time Ginny looked upon her with open acceptance. She couldn’t squander that gift.

  “I am Elias’s mate.”

  Ginny’s lips popped open. “Whoa.”

  “Da,” she sighed.

  “I-I mean, we always suspected there was something serious there. You’d have to be pretty blind to miss the chemistry.” She paused. “But in order for him to know you’re his mate, he had to drink from you.”

  Roksana rolled over until she was face down on the couch and groaned. “There was a potion involved and…I had a rare lapse in judgment.”

  Liar.

  I’m always this desperate for you. Every minute, every second, every day. The drink only took away my ability to hide it. Believe me, Roksana.

  Her eyes had been wide open and so were his.

  Roksana shoved her face further into the pillows.

  She sensed Ginny sitting up slowly. “Where is Elias now?”

  “I don’t know. Probably en route from Moscow.”

  Several seconds went by. “Um. About those nerves you’ve been feeling…”

  “Nyet.” Roksana sat up so fast she grew momentarily dizzy. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s not the same thing.”

  Ginny failed to disguise her skepticism. “When we found out I was Jonas’s mate, because of—you know—that whole accidental fang scratch?” She shook her head. “You were with me, Roksana. You know how much suffering I went through.”

  “You experienced his hunger because he was also your mate. Your soul knew this even as a human and…no. No, I am a slayer. A permanent human. There might be a boyfriend or a husband someday. That is all. I cannot have a mate.” Her friend said nothing, just letting the conclusions draw themselves. The answer Roksana had been staunchly avoiding since the yearning woke inside of her. “Perhaps it’s heartburn?” She avoided Ginny’s gaze so she wouldn’t have to see the doubt there. The complications dangling in front of her on invisible strings. “My mother…if she knew…”

  “If she knew, what?” Ginny asked softly.

  She would ridicule me. Have me beaten. Turn her back on me.

  Hadn’t she already done those things, though?

  Roksana mentally leapt back from the shock of the truth, lunging off the couch to go stare into the dancing flames of the fire. A crowbar seemed to slide between her ribs and twist, but she forced herself to breathe. To have no outward reaction. She was stronger than most, wasn’t she? If she ignored the yawning pit of hunger inside her, it would go away.

  If Ginny’s theory was true, though…Elias was feeling it, too.

  And it would never go away for him. Until he died.

  “I knew Elias before he was a vampire,” Roksana whispered, turning to face her friend.

  She drew up short when she found Jonas framed in the doorway of the study, several yards behind his wife. “I know,” he said, striding into the room in that royal way of his.

  Roksana took several breaths, attempting to get her shock under control. It wasn’t so much shock that Jonas knew. The king surely made it his business to know everything, especially about his closest allies. It was the acknowledgment that the night she’d met Elias in Vegas existed. It had been real. That another person believed her, validated her, made Roksana want to sink to her knees and wail like a baby. In triumph, in pain. In both.

  It wasn’t a dream after all.

  Jonas laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder and Ginny covered it with her own, her face betraying nothing. Had she known, too? It would likely remain a mystery, because Roksana sensed Ginny would never reveal anything Jonas told her in confidence.

  “How did you know?” Roksana asked Jonas, hating the threadbare quality of her voice. “He couldn’t have told you, because he doesn’t remember.”

  The king’s stoic expression didn’t change. “I made it my business to know everything about Elias Perry before he became part of my inner circle. What I learned about his past satisfied any doubts about his character.”

  Roksana breathed a humorless laugh. “Maybe you didn’t learn the whole story then.”
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br />   Jonas’s head tilted ever so slightly. “Does that sound like me?”

  She ground her back teeth together. “My friends were mutilated by his hand. He was there. He put me in an office to be tortured by their screams—”

  “Until I became king, I only had second-hand accounts of what happened that night. I trusted them. But I inherited a lot of things in addition to the throne.” He seemed to be unconscious of the fact that he was cupping Ginny’s cheek, tracing her earlobe with his thumb. “Whenever a vampire risks discovery by humans, evidence is collected.”

  Roksana’s heart missed a beat. “What do you mean ‘evidence’?”

  “My sire kept records of vampire transgressions. For blackmail, no doubt. We all remember how he liked eliminating his own kind as punishment while neglecting to provide them with the correct tools for survival.” Jonas’s jaw popped. “Most likely, the High Order are responsible for cleaning up the mess of that night. Paid off law enforcement to keep quiet. Hid it from the press.” He gave a heavy pause. “Roksana…there is an archive of evidence here in the hold. I’ve only begun to go through it, but…”

  Ginny tipped her head back to meet her husband’s eyes.

  Her friend definitely hadn’t known this part.

  “I warn you, it won’t be easy to watch,” Jonas said quietly. “But I can show you what happened that night.”

  An invisible fist buried itself in the center of Roksana’s stomach. “There is a tape?”

  “Surveillance footage, yes.”

  She stiffened. Could she watch her friends’ lives being snuffed out? Being behind a door and listening to the slaughter take place had been the worst moments of her life. But seeing it? She would never get the images out of her head. And…

  What if she had no choice but to alter the scene she’d envisioned for so long?

  Elias ripping out the throats of her childhood best friends, feasting on them with the same lips he’d used to kiss her so passionately the night of the poker game. She’d operated with a strict set of beliefs concerning that night for so long…what if watching the tapes blew them sky high?

  Don’t be a coward.

  She’d spent years failing to avenge the deaths of her friends. Didn’t she owe it to them to at least watch this tape and go through the suffering with them?

  “Show me.”

  Roksana sat on a hard chair facing a computer screen.

  She didn’t look left or right. Jonas had led her to this room and she’d gone silently, a numb woman walking, afraid to stare anywhere but the path ahead, worried doing so might tempt her to escape.

  “The events prior to this are unclear,” Jonas said, his finger hovering over the keyboard. “Elias hasn’t told me who Silenced him. Or how it happened. Maybe he truly doesn’t know—”

  “Does it matter how? He got what he wanted. To be immortal.”

  The king’s skepticism was obvious. “Even if you really believe that was his motive, how could he have ended up at this chapel—”

  “I told him we’d be there,” Roksana cut in, voice hard. “I brought this on them.”

  Jonas gave a long exhale. “Roksana, those first few days and weeks after being Silenced are normally a tortuous blur. For Elias to not only remember the location, but transport himself somewhere with a clear mission? It’s not only unlikely, it’s practically impossible.”

  “I recently played poker with some murderous fae,” she muttered. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that nothing is impossible in this world.”

  Jonas hit a button on the keyboard and left the room. She was grateful for it. She had no idea what it would be like to witness the hellish night from her memories and didn’t want an audience. The screen remained blue for several seconds before soundless, grainy black and white footage commenced, waves of static passing through a still image of the chapel’s interior. It looked so much smaller than the place in her memory, the cheap pews and three-day-old flower stands especially garish without her friends’ laughter to make it an adventure.

  Roksana watched in a trance as she appeared on the screen, her smile effusive and youthful. Why wouldn’t it be? At that time in her life, she’d been happy to pretend the horrors of the earth didn’t exist. She’d chosen to live a life free of the lessons her mother tried to teach her, picking ignorant bliss instead. There was an extra lightness in past-Roksana’s step, too, courtesy of meeting the man of her dreams the night before. Knowing she’d see him again tonight. Never in a million years could she have imagined what was about to take place.

  Her knuckles ached from gripping the arms of the chair, but she didn’t abate the pressure, needing it to stay grounded. Kira twirled down the aisle of the chapel, her skirt fanning out around her. Roksana passed around an inexpensive bottle of champagne to her friends, the chapel director trying to wrangle the group of free-spirited Russians and get them in place for the ceremony.

  Suddenly, everyone in the group jumped, backing away from the entrance. They all moved, trying to find cover, but Roksana remained in place, frozen. Vampires prowled into the space. God, she didn’t remember there being so many of them, she’d been so focused on Elias. A lot like now, when she held her breath, watching him stagger into the open, obviously trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

  Elias…

  That was him, but not. Her memory hadn’t catalogued details that stood out to her now. His gait was disjointed, blurring in short bursts of speed, then stopping, as if he couldn’t get control of his movements. His clothes were torn and streaked with blood. His own? And the misery etched into his features. How could she not have remembered?

  A hand appeared in front of the lens, blocking the view of the interior. But not before she saw a white feather in the grainy corner of the screen.

  Her stomach bottomed out.

  There’d been a vampire in the bar with her and Elias the night before with a white feather in his hat. How could she have forgotten?

  The implications dug into her flesh like sharp dagger tips. She was still sorting through them when the camera moved and all she could see was the rear of the chapel.

  Roksana shot forward in her chair, uselessly pressing buttons on the keyboard. “No.”

  She needed to watch. She wanted to be there with them. For them.

  Roksana started to call for Jonas to ask if readjusting the footage was possible, but Elias moved into the frame again, this time carrying her over his shoulder. His eyes were pinched shut, his nostrils flared. Starved for blood. At the time, she wouldn’t have recognized a vampire’s thirst, but she did now. Especially this man’s.

  On the screen, Elias went so far as to press his fangs to her neck and inhale, his muscles flexing with the effort of restraining himself. But he didn’t give in. Instead, he pushed her into a room and slammed the door, dropping to his knees and holding it closed.

  And that’s where he stayed, grinding his forehead into the doorjamb as if tortured.

  Protecting Roksana from the same fate as her friends. Fighting his physical and mental upheaval in order to do it. Nothing had happened as she imagined. Reconciling the Elias she knew with a violent murderer had always been difficult. Still, she’d always assumed his involvement in their butchery of her friends ran much deeper.

  She’d made a career out of hating him for it.

  What if she’d been seeing everything in black and white, while ignoring shades of gray?

  What if she’d been wrong to blame Elias?

  She stared at the screen long after it went blank until finally Ginny and Jonas entered the room, guiding Roksana to her feet and down the stone hallway. “Come on, I’ve got a shower running for you and a change of clothes.”

  “Who were those other vampires? Do you know the man with the white feather in his hat?” Roksana asked, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. “I always thought Elias led the vampires who Silenced him to the chapel. But I never stopped to ask why. Why would he have targeted me and my friends if all he wante
d was to feed? And…he didn’t even do that.”

  “They’re not familiar to me,” Jonas said quietly. “I’ve made inquiries since finding the video, but I’ve had no luck.”

  Roksana nodded dazedly, replaying the scene over and over again in her head.

  If the man with the white feather in his hat was in the bar with her and Elias…did he overhear the name of the chapel? It wouldn’t have been a stretch, considering the superhuman hearing of an immortal. Did the vampire, not Elias, target Roksana, perhaps recognizing her as the slayer queen’s daughter?

  Elias’s behavior in the video was not that of a man embracing the vampire lifestyle, as if he’d been seeking it out. Quite the opposite, actually. He’d appeared devastated.

  If Elias wasn’t a willing victim…had she led the vampires to him? Did his fateful association with Roksana lead to him being Silenced against his will, instead of the ritual being welcome, as she’d always believed?

  Oh God. Oh no, please. It can’t be true.

  A wave of pain rammed straight into her middle and she barely managed to hide her reaction from Ginny and Jonas. “I’ll take you up on that shower,” she managed.

  Ginny watched her oddly, but nodded, stopping outside of a door at the end of the hallway. “Try and sleep afterward, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Roksana nodded and left the pair, closing and locking the door behind her. Well aware of her friends’ keen sense of hearing, she forced herself to enter the bathroom and step under the running shower spray before she succumbed to the pain in her middle, curling beneath the stream of water in a fetal position. And she could no longer tell if the pain was due to Elias needing to feed…or proof that her own vengeance had made her blind.

  It was impossible to know how long she stared at the water circling the shower drain, but the spray was ice cold by the time two strong, familiar arms slid beneath her limp form, lifting Roksana from the tub.