Page 14 of Dark & Darker Still (Vane and Roc: Origin)

Thirteen

Vane

Roc grabs me by the arm and yanks me out the back door and into the alley that runs behind the Joker’s Den.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I light a cigarette and drop myself onto a small stack of crates, some of the adrenaline ebbing out.

Some of the fog has cleared from my head and the needling feeling of regret pulses behind my eyes.

It was a bit reckless, a bit impulsive, but it wasn’t without reason.

“Whether she likes it or not, she belongs to us. And if it belongs to us, it must be defended.”

“We claiming women like property now?”

“No.” I take another hit trying to orient my thoughts. “It’s not about her. It was never about Alice. It’s about us.”

Roc crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m listening.”

“If the Umbrage sees us capitulating to a girl, then to Nix, what then? The whole point of me marrying Gen and negotiating Caligo Port is for fucking power, Roc! We can’t grow soft now.”

“So, this has nothing to do with your desire to control Al? To have her when you want and only when you want.”

“No.” The word comes out too quickly, tasting sharp like a lie.

My big brother, who knows me better than anyone, can see it too. But none of that matters. Not right now anyway.

“We lost everything at one point. And we could easily lose it again.” I look up at Roc.

“And then what kind of life would we give Lainey? We owe her something beautiful and safe. Mother and Father couldn’t give it to her, not with any kind of permanence.

So, it must be us. It has to be her big brothers who build her something lasting. ”

Roc exhales and leans against the brick wall of the Den, some of the tension leaving his body. “Alice isn’t going to let you get away with this so easily.”

“I can handle Alice. Let me deal with her and our fucked-up relationship at a later date.”

He snorts. “Good luck with that, dear brother.”

How much time can I buy myself? A day? A week? I’d prefer a fucking year, but Alice is even more impatient than I am. I’m shocked she isn’t out here right now demanding I answer for myself.

One of the crates further down the alley rattles and a dog saunters out. I thought I’d heard another heartbeat nearby. I whistle to him and he ambles over. Some of his ribs stand out against his dark fur. “Hungry, boy?” He looks up at me with heavy eyes.

Roc pulls open the back door and shouts inside for Comor. Our leftenant comes out a second later.

“Feed this mut for us,” I order. “And some fresh water too.”

“You got it.”

I give the dog a scratch behind the ears and he sits back slowly on his hind legs.

“Lainey would love you,” I tell him. “She’s always begged for a dog.”

“When this is all done,” Roc says, “let’s take a week off and go spend it seaside with our sister. We can take the mut with us. She could use a watchdog. Ms. Ollen may be a retired assassin, but she’s closer to courting death than she is to greeting the morning.”

The back door opens again and Comor appears with a bowl of leftover steak and another with fresh water.

“Make him comfortable, Comor,” Roc says. “We’re keeping him.”

“Got it.”

I straighten. “This vacation, is it before or after I get married?”

Roc shrugs. “I’ll leave that up to you. You think your new wife will let you disappear for a week at a time?”

“Let? I don’t need anyone’s permission.”

The dog whines and turns his head, staring down the end of the alley at nothing but the night.

Roc laughs and slaps me on the back. “You’re going to make the best husband. I can see it already.”

Comor sets the bowl down. “Who, Vane? He’s going to be the worst husband ever.”

Roc laughs harder.

“You can both fuck off.”