Page 283 of Golden Eagle

Vlad ran careful fingertips down her back and frowned. “I wasn’t going to let herstarve.” He sounded appalled by the idea.

Val did laugh then…until he found himself sniffing back a few tears.

“You’re covered in blood,” Vlad said, stern tone threaded with worry.

“Oh, brother.” Val sat his projection down in a tufted leather chair. “We stormed the facility here in New York tonight. How veryyouof us.”

“You didwhat?” Vlad came half out of his chair, sending Poppy scrambling for cover.

Val told him of it, laughing and then wiping his eyes in turn.You’re hysterical, he thought to himself.The stress has finally cracked you. But he sobered when he got to their uncle’s progeny.

“I know Mehmet was of Uncle’s turning, and that he was…wrong, inside. But he was never like this.” His voice trailed off to a faint whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“They’re terrible,” Vlad said, without any great feeling, his frowning gaze still fixed on Val. “Which is why I’d hoped you would run far, far in the opposite direction from them.”

“Ah, yes.” Val raised an index finger; ignored the way it quivered, the way his hand shook. “But apparently, your heroic streak is a shared family trait.”

Vlad did stand, then, hands planted on the desktop, scowl going murderous. “It isn’t heroic. It hasneverbeen heroic. Ugly things must be done to preserve the innocent.”

Val let his words ring between them a moment. “Is that not the very definition of heroism, Vlad.”

Vlad sat back down, the chair groaning beneath the force of the movement.

“You would have done the same,” Val said, as gently as he could. “If you’d been here to see how corrupt it was, to witness what they’d done, you’d have done just as we did.”

Vlad huffed an angry breath, but didn’t disagree. “You got your mate hurt,” he said, but it didn’t sound like a barb, not meant to wound.

“She wouldn’t sit aside.” He swallowed. “Just as I won’t. This is indeed a war, brother, and we’ve both got blood in it. There’ll be no sitting on the sidelines for us. Nor…for the people we love.”

Silence descended between them. Rain struck the window; the fire crackled.

“I leave for Bucharest in a few days,” Vlad said. “I will end this.”

“Will you let me come?”

“No.” But then: “Your friends need you. And I – I need you to be the strong point in the New World.” He lifted his brows, conveying silent meaning:I need you to be the backup, in case I fail.

Val nodded, throat tight.

When he returned to his body, he was sitting on the dirt floor of the warehouse, leaning against a stack of wood, a foam cup pressed to his lips. Anna touched his face and said, “Drink up.” It was her blood beneath his nose. “Mia’s doing great. They got the bullets out, and she’s already healing. Should be awake soon.”

He reached up a shaking hand, and let her help him drink.

~*~

“We removed the spell,” Red said, wiping her hands together and making a face, like she’d touched something foul, though her palms were clean.

“Nasty piece of work,” Tuck said, folding a blanket up over Dante’s chest. Another rested beneath his head, a makeshift pillow. “Whoever cast it was quite strong. One of you boys?” he asked, looking toward Severin.

It took Severin a moment to understand the question, and then he wanted to take a step back, appalled. “No. None of us.”

But itcouldhave been him. One of his handlers could have come to him, and explained the process to him, and told him how important it was that he weave his power into a new shape, and plant it between the fold’s of someone’s brain. Dante wouldn’t have been Dante then – his friend – but another subject in the lab. Someone his handlers owned.

He shuddered at the idea.

“Could it have been done remotely?” Alexei asked beside him. “We were dream-walking, and someone – a mage, he said – appeared. That was when the pain first started.”

Tuck and Red exchanged a look.

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