“If you’ve seen nothing like it, then obviously you weren’t watching me.” Robin frowned at the blood spatter across his pants. “And I do it with unparalleled panache and style, but of course that wouldn’t be noticed while you’re so occupied ogling your mother’s property.”
So Robin wasn’t getting anywhere with Cherish. That had to sting. I didn’t think he’d not gotten anywhere with anyone he wanted except for Niko. Robin was lethal too, in a whole lot more ways than one. In the bedroom, out of the bedroom—he bragged about both. For a guy who practically excreted Rohypnol out of his pores, this had to be pissing him off like crazy. I gave him a grin to let him know I knew, and he gave me a silent snarl back. Moving over to Niko, I asked, “You okay? I know traveling isn’t such a hot feeling when you’re not an Auphe.” Which, I thought, was why it didn’t bother me.
I might not have said it aloud, but he heard it anyway. “You are not an Auphe,” he said between clenched teeth, clenched probably to keep his lunch down, although the muddy color of his skin was fading and returning to normal. “And I’ll recuperate. Give me a few minutes.”
“Yeah, okay.” It wasn’t a lot to ask considering he’d gotten a good feel of what was inside an Auphe, and, like it or not, what was inside me. It was an unnatural thing, ripping a hole in the fabric of reality. You knew that as soon as you saw it, but to pass through that rip, you felt the unnatural twist of it to your bones. It wasn’t right. It was unwholesome and awful and it wasn’t right.
I’d used to feel that. . . . Like Robin had. Like Niko. The wrongness of it.
I didn’t anymore.
Whatever that meant, whatever it said, it wasn’t good.
But you play with your Auphe half and you can’t expect it to stay buried. It wanted to play, a lot more than you did.
Robin laid his sword on the dining room table, folded his arms, and sighed. “What now? Samuel and his happy-go-lucky band of game wardens? Or are we pushing our luck there, making them our personal janitorial team?”
“I’ll take them.” We really didn’t want to push the Vigil into thinking we were their version of overt. That was all we needed on top of everything else. And if the Auphe could get rid of an eel the size of a truck, I could get rid of three panthers. “I’ll open a gate to the river. If it’s good enough for the Sopranos, it’s good enough for us.”
I didn’t wait for Niko to object, and he would have. Risking sharpening the Vigil’s attention on us versus me playing with Auphe fire, he’d take the first any day. But that wasn’t the right thing to do. Everyone was already in danger from the Auphe because of me. I wasn’t going to add the Vigil to that. Who knew how long they’d listen to Samuel that we were okay, that we weren’t going to get noticed. I squatted down to study the nearest ccoa. Because, let’s face it, we did shit that had a damn good chance of getting noticed.
And we did it a lot.
“What do you think? Two hundred and fifty pounds? Three?” I opened the gate absently.
That was a mistake, thinking it was as simple as the small amount of effort involved. Thinking that I didn’t need to pay attention. Forgetting how much my Auphe side did want to play.
But it had gotten so easy. Once it had brought pounding headaches and unconsciousness. Two weeks ago it had brought blood gushing from my nose or ears. Now it was like turning a key in a lock. Normal. No pain. No exhaustion. Just the feeling of doing what I was meant to do.
Maybe what I was meant to be.
The last male Auphe.
It was back . . . the cold touch, the slither of bloodthirsty satisfaction. I laid a hand on wet black fur, still warm, and lifted it back up to stare at my red palm and fingers. I had killed, I would kill again. And, hey, was that such a bad thing? Was that so wrong? To do what you were born to do . . . to follow the fire and ice that burned and seared your blood. To touch blood, to wear it, to spill it, to taste it . . .
No.
No. Absolutely fucking not.
This was not going to happen. That’s not who . . . what I was going to be. I took all the control I had, made the massive effort, and shoved those alien thoughts out of my mind. They had to be alien . . . otherwise they were mine. All mine. And that couldn’t be. It couldn’t, damn it. Luckily, I pushed them out or down before Niko clocked me one. He’d been across the room; now he was kneeling beside me, looking grim. “Control,” he said.
“I’ve got it. It’s gone.” I wiped the blood from my hand onto the black jeans.
“Pay attention.” That was said with an edge, an edge that had every right to be there.
“I know. Sorry.” Sorry didn’t quite get it for not treating opening a gate with the cautious respect it deserved. It was wild and feral. I wasn’t going to tame it, and if I weren’t careful, it would eat me alive. The best I could hope to do was control it and keep it on a short leash. And watch it—always watch it. Keep a wall up. I wasn’t what those bitches said I was. I was human, at least enough to stop the part of me that wasn’t.
The gate was still open, the cold light spilling through the ragged gash. I sucked in a deep breath. I had it now; it didn’t have me. “Let’s get them through.”
To the side I saw Cherish watching me with the clouded black eyes of a vampire ready for battle. “You are Auphe. I thought you were lying.”
“Why the hell would I lie about something like that?” I bit off as Niko and Robin helped me heave the first dead weight through the light. “How’d you know?” I went on quietly for Nik’s ears only. But as usual, Robin couldn’t let anything be for someone else only, not if that someone wasn’t him.
“You were speaking Auphe.” The fox face pulled into an expression of distaste.
Those two years they’d had me—I must’ve learned the language then. I’d seen that when I understood the Auphe before—telling me I was the last male. But understanding it and speaking it, those were two different things. . . . And they were just two more things tying me to them.
“What’d I say?” I didn’t remember, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. If it had been anything like what was going through my mind . . . Jesus.
“I have no idea. I don’t understand Auphe, and I don’t want to. Imagine ground glass shoved into your ear canal. That’s what it sounds like, and it’s about that pleasurable to hear,” he grunted as we tossed the next cat through. “But your brother knew before you started with that. He was already moving.”
“Nik?” The last ccoa slid into the gray. I closed the rip and ignored the disappointment of letting it go. Control. I had it. I did.
“You opened that thing and you weren’t you. Before you touched the blood. Before you spoke that hell-spawn language. I knew the second you opened the gate and weren’t paying attention.”
It was something Niko didn’t allow himself often—anger—and it was completely justifiable. I hadn’t paid attention and I’d nearly gotten lost. I’d gone from swearing not to open any more gates, to doing it to try to outthink the Auphe, to emergencies in case of attacks, and finally to just cleaning up around the house.
Which is how the road to hell is paved with a little maid service.
“It won’t happen again,” I said grimly.
“See that it doesn’t. I won’t enjoy knocking you out, but I will.” I took it for what it was: reassurance. Niko was my lifeline. If I started to fall, he’d drag me back.
“No one I’d rather have beat my ass into unconsciousness,” I said wryly.
“Not that this macho brotherly love fest isn’t bringing a tear to the eye,” Robin drawled, “but I think we need to talk about moving. Oshossi knows where we are now. If we don’t go, every night is going to be Sundown Social at the Zoo. Pet the predator. Kiss the carnivore. All things I could do without.”
It was a good point. Niko, Robin, and Promise discussed it; Cherish watched my every move with wary eyes; and I, ignoring her as I ignored most of the others who gave me that look, ended up playing Go Fish with Xolo. Which, in a strange way, was what I needed. I didn’t want to think about Oshossi and his overgrown kitties. I didn’t want to think about the Auphe. I didn’t want to think about me.