‘I don’t understand you.’
I don’t get you either, I thought back to the belt as I closed my eyes. You’re on my shit list right now, buddy.
It had the gall to laugh at me. ‘Is that so?’
The rising fury burning in my breast was answer enough.
‘Let me tell you a little story, hunter. Haven’t you ever wondered who I was before I became this hunk of leather and metal?’
My lip curled in response.
‘This isn’t about you, much as you’d like to think you’re such a special snowflake and that it’s all your fault so you can wallow in guilt for the rest of the night. You’re swerving a greater purpose by letting me help you rid the world of these things. I used to be a mage. I lived on the outskirts of Andover. My coven was small, and most of the members were family. We served the local villages as blacksmiths, tanners, and fur-trappers, mostly.
‘Some vampire had already established himself in Boston, but we had little contact with him. We kept to ourselves until he drove a pack of Weres out of Cambridge and into our area. I’m not sure you understand just how much Weres hate magi. They slaughtered most of my family. The few of us who escaped went to petition Max Carlyle—’
That nearly jerked me to my feet. The belt must have been expecting it, because I only managed a slight twitch and a faint sound in my throat before my muscles went rigid against my will.
‘Don’t act so surprised,’ the belt admonished.
I should throw you into the fireplace when I get back to the White Hat hideout, I thought as hard as I could at it. What connection do you have to Max? Why would you want to have anything to do with him?
‘Enough with the dramatics. You’ve met him. You know what he’s like and what he’s capable of. It was custom in those days, and most likely still is today, to petition to the most powerful Other in your region if you wished to seek shelter from or vengeance against another Other. Vampires have never been known for their sense of justice or mercy. Instead of doing something to leash the monsters he had loosed onto my family’s land, he trapped my sister and nearly had me in his hands before the rest of us escaped. With our circle broken, we had little power, no protection, no homes to return to, and no hope of vengeance.’
That confused me. Max worked out of Chicago, not Boston, as far as I knew. And what would he want with a mage?
‘He was driven out of Boston some time ago by Alec Royce. Some other vampire—Ian Taft—runs the northern New England territories now.’
This was all news to me. I couldn’t recall Royce or any of his people ever mentioning this. Shifting impatiently in my seat, I was careful to keep from speaking aloud and drawing Jack or Bo’s attention again, keeping the conversation internal. Somehow, against my better judgment, the belt’s motivations were starting to make a twisted kind of sense, and I was gradually losing my desire to destroy it. Why didn’t you tell me this before? Why didn’t you try harder to kill Max when I was fighting in Royce’s home?
‘You know as well as I do that you wouldn’t have survived the fight.’
Okay. Good point.
‘I’ve waited this long. I knew you’d have a reason to use me eventually, running in the circles you do. That you’d give me a chance to really work through you. You had to be in a certain mindset and use me to kill—which you did—for me to influence you as much as I do now. It’s made you stronger. Better. A more efficient killer. And once you’ve had enough practice, we can take down the one I really want.’
Well. You had to admire the thing’s work ethic.
‘Your mission hasn’t changed, and neither has mine. If you truly want vengeance, then you won’t deviate from this path, and you’ll let me help you do what needs to be done. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be pretty—but in the end you’ll get what you want, and so will I.’
This put things into a different perspective for me. As angry as I’d been at the belt, it did have a point. I’d never expected this hunt for Chaz and Dillon to be easy, or that there wouldn’t be bloodshed along the way. It didn’t make Vic’s death right, but it did make me less inclined to destroy the belt the minute I could take it off.
It also put some of my other dealings into a new light. Maybe Arnold and Chaz had never gotten along for deeper reasons than I previously had understood. There seemed to be a whole different world of politics and history that they’d kept from me. My ire against the Others was rising again.
Maybe it was time I stopped just using the belt, and took some time to listen to it instead.
‘That would be wise. We’ll be much more effective if we’re not working at odds.’
I considered it. Then, another thought struck me.
What was your name? Is any of your family still alive?
The belt didn’t answer me right away. There were some strange emotions roiling around in my mind, deep down in that place where the belt often took up residence, tickling in the back of my skull. Like me, but not, an alien presence that somehow felt right at home. Once it answered, its voice was the most quiet and subdued I’d ever heard it be.
‘No one has asked me that in a very long time.’
That gave me pause. I’m sorry. Do you remember?
‘Isaac. My name was Isaac Tanner. Three of us died to fuel the spell that made me into ... this. My father, Abijah, used me to seek vengeance and try to save my sister, Cornelia. He failed, but managed to pass me to another mage before he died. They’re all gone. Dead. All I’ve known is sleep when I am not in use, then the minds of those who wear me, the weapons they wield and the language they use, and the need to fulfill my purpose. There are no dreams for me, no body, no real rest. I am alone now.’
The overwhelming grief it radiated brought the sting of tears to my eyes. I pressed my fingertips to the leather, though I knew the belt itself couldn’t feel my touch—only feel the sensation through my skin.
I’m sorry. You have me now.
I already hated Max Carlyle, but I now knew that, like the belt, I couldn’t rest until I’d found vengeance for Isaac and his family.
Those thoughts stayed with me when we arrived at Jack’s house, as we carried the body in the dead of night to a small boat moored on the docks behind the house. Though I still felt a faint pang of regret when we dropped Vic in the water a couple miles offshore, still tied up in his tarp trappings and now weighted with rocks, I no longer felt that I’d made the wrong decision.
The hunters knew what they were doing. They felt no qualms or regrets about the death of another Other.
From this point forward, neither would I.
Chapter 8
When we pulled into the dock, almost everyone went straight inside to go to bed or they went to their cars to head to their respective homes. Jack went to the front porch to have a smoke, and no one commented when I eased away from the others to join him.
He offered me a cig when I sat down on the rail of the fencing surrounding the porch directly across from the bench he’d taken a seat on. I shook my head, picking at a splinter in the wood and avoiding his gaze.
“I need to make a phone call.”
Jack ignored me until he’d finished lighting up and took the first deep drag, making the tip of his cigarette glow brightly enough to cast eerie shadows on the valleys and depressions of his face. “Not a good idea. Modern technology can be traced, given the right skills, time, and budget. This mess with the werewolves has the Feds interested, and I’m not interested in leading them here.”