Jaguar changed the subject. “You might like to know Jeshickah will be out of the way very soon. There’s a Triste by the name of Jesse who seems to think he has enough allies of his own to risk offending hers, and is willing to deal with her for a highly exorbitant price.” Tristes had the strengths of vampires and witches combined, as well as blood that was deadly to any vampire that tried to feed on them. It made them the perfect vampire hunters.
“How long will this take?” Turquoise asked. Vampires often judged time differently than humans did.
“A few weeks, maybe a month,” Jaguar answered.
“I assume then Eric will be able to go back safely?”
“He may be a kid, but he did a lot of work there; it’s chaos without him,” Jaguar admitted. “You’ll be welcome back once she’s gone, too,” he ventured. “Not as a slave. Just a guest. Or, if you ever get bored with Bruja, the town of Pyrige has plenty of spaces for people willing to work.”
“I’ll consider it.” She shrugged. “What’s happening with Ravyn?”
“She’s living it up, enjoying abusing Gabriel’s power. It’s more likely she’ll enslave him than the other way around.” He smiled wryly. “Gabriel has a fondness for women who are willing to kill him; it’s a dangerous habit of his.”
“And yours,” Turquoise observed.
Jaguar paused for a reflective moment. “I like to think you would at least hesitate before trying to kill me. If I’m wrong, kindly don’t correct me. I enjoy my illusions,” he added, attempting to lighten the mood. “Ravyn said something about hoping you still plan to show up for Challenge?” His tone made the words a question.
“Ravyn and I are rivals. Challenge will determine who gets to lead Crimson. If I don’t show, Ravyn gets the title.” She was about to add, “
“What’s the weapon?”
“Whip.”
He looked intrigued. “You know how to use one?”
“Just barely.”
Jaguar shrugged. “There’s not much time, but I’ll teach what I can. Maybe you’ll turn out to have a knack for it.”
“Or maybe I’ll take out my own eye,” Turquoise retorted. In a way, she hoped she would lose miserably, and have an excuse to quit Bruja. Recent events had given her too much doubt.
As always, Jaguar was painfully astute. “Do you want to win?”
“Yes.” After a moment, she changed her answer to, “I don’t want to lose to Ravyn. I’m just not sure I want the title.”
Jaguar nodded. “There’s something that might help you make your choice,” he informed her. “Ravyn’s worried you’ll chicken out of Challenge, so she made a deal with Gabriel. He bought you from Jeshickah; if you win at Challenge, he’ll make you legally freeblood.”
Turquoise frowned. “I’m free now. I don’t care about the legalities.”
“Maybe not,” Jaguar acknowledged, “but if you want to work in our world you will.” He continued, “Shape- shifters and witches are born free. Only their own kind can sell them to Midnight. Humans don’t have that protection; any vampire can pick them up and claim them, just like Daryl did with you.”
“And if I take this title Gabriel is offering?”
“Freeblood means you’ll be treated like one of us. It doesn’t mean no one’s allowed to kill you, but it does mean none of us can claim you. It means the next time you work with our mercenaries, you don’t have to worry about having someone like Daryl pay them to turn you over instead of helping you. And it means that you can walk into Midnight and even Jeshickah wouldn’t be able to break you.”
“And if I kill Daryl?”
“I’m not going to stop you,” Jaguar answered. “Neither will Gabriel. Jeshickah might cause some trouble, but she isn’t fond of him either, and she’ll be out of the picture soon anyway.”
“And then . . . what if I said that I wanted to give up Bruja?”
Jaguar appeared skeptical. “You can’t go back to what you were before Daryl. You’re still human by blood, but in your mind and in your soul you’re no more human than most of the vampires I know.”
Turquoise responded flippantly, “Maybe I can’t go back. But what’s the other choice? Ask you to open a vein so we fix that little problem of blood?”
She had not considered the words, but once spoken they did not surprise her. If she wouldn’t stay in the twilight, and she couldn’t go back to Cathy’s daylight world, then of course, vampire blood would be the only choice.
Voice cool and level, Jaguar answered, “It’s a viable choice, but not from me. Find someone who’s freeblood if that’s what you want—your mercenary friend Nathaniel, for example. He didn’t hesitate to burn Midnight the first time, or to sell two hunters into it. I’m sure he wouldn’t have any scruples about giving one of Bruja’s best immortality. And get rid of Daryl first. He might have no legal claim over you, but you don’t want him arguing ownership for the next millennium.”
Turquoise had hunted vampires for two years. The idea of becoming one of them should have been sickening.
“I don’t know,” she said. She seemed to be saying that a lot lately.
“Go to Challenge,” Jaguar recommended. “Win. Then decide. If you decide to become one of us, you’ll be strong. If you don’t, you’ll still be able to survive.”
Turquoise nodded, taking the advice. Face Challenge now; save the future for tomorrow.
Jaguar frowned, looking past her, then spoke quietly. “I think this one is looking for you.”
Turquoise turned, following Jaguar’s gaze, and ended up looking at Greg.
The human’s gaze was resting on Jaguar with what wasn’t exactly anger, but wasn’t warm fuzzy friendship, either. He looked away from the vampire to greet Turquoise, but his proverbial hackles were up.
“Cathy, hey.” He glanced at Jaguar again, and seemed to decide to be polite. “I noticed you and figured I’d swing inside for a moment. Am I interrupting?”
Flustered, Turquoise looked between the two, caught briefly in a hazy shadow. Greg and Jaguar didn’t belong in the same world.
Jaguar covered for her, standing and offering his hand. “I’m Kyle Lostry, one of Cathy’s friends.” Having Jaguar use her childhood nickname struck her in a most unpleasant way.
Greg banked his hostility, and accepted Jaguar’s gesture of civilized greeting like someone who had never been lied to or manipulated, someone who expected sincerity. “Greg Martin. I knew Cathy in school,” he offered, looking to Turquoise, “but we’ve been out of touch for a while.” He backed off, aware enough to sense awkwardness. “I’ve got to get going; I’m on my way to a job interview.” He looked at Turquoise, and the expression on his face was honest, unschooled. “Give me a call?”
“I will.”
Watching his back as he left, she knew she would. To forestall Jaguar’s questions, she asked, “Who’s Kyle Lostry?”
Jaguar looked startled, as if he had not thought about the name when he had used it. “Someone I knew once—and wish I’d had a chance to know better.”
She sensed that there was a story behind the words. “Is he . . .” She broke off, not wanting to ask whether this phantom was alive or dead.
Jaguar volunteered no more. “Is your Greg why you’re thinking of leaving Bruja?” he asked. Turquoise couldn’t tell from his tone or expression what he thought of Greg, or the idea.
She shook her head. “I ran into him yesterday. He somehow managed to remind me of all the things I left behind, after Daryl. . . .” She trailed off. “I don’t know whether I could still follow any of those dreams, or whether I would still want to, but it hurts to know I threw them away.”
Jaguar was still watching Greg, who had paused on the sidewalk to talk to someone else. “He’s too innocent for you. His life is too innocent for you.”
“I know.”
Jaguar shook his head. “I’ve never known anyone who joined our world and then managed to go back to the
