Page 2 of Dark & Darker Still (Vane and Roc: Origin)

Two

Vane

I enter the Joker’s Den from our private door in back.

It spills in between the bar and the billiards room where walls made of bubbled glass show silhouettes moving around the tables mid-game.

Tonight’s guest musicians are playing violin and lute along with our piano player, Big John and his son, Little Tom who beats at a handheld drum.

Roc is at the end of the bar waiting for a round of shots to be poured.

“Do you feel better?” he asks and turns to me, his back pressed against the bar, his elbows resting on the nicked and worn dark oak top.

I steal one of the shots before the bartender finishes his pour. “Yes,” I answer and sling the drink back. Darkland whisky is smoky and sweet but so fucking smooth.

“You do know she does that just to get your attention.”

I’m not about to admit to my older brother that for some fucking reason, I like it when Alice provokes me. It’s a game we play on an endless loop. I pretend she doesn’t matter and then she baits me and makes me prove that she does.

I come to stand beside Roc and lean into the bar top, sliding the empty shot glass back to the bartender. “Of course I do.”

“One of these days it’s going to get us in trouble.”

“What, exactly, are you getting at?”

Roc angles toward me. “The way you two obsess over one another.” He clicks his tongue. “It’s not healthy.”

“Don’t lecture me on what’s healthy. You’re fucking half the Umbrage.”

“Are you slut shaming me?”

“Oh please.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “So, I fuck half the Umbrage…do you see Alice trying to get back at me for it? Flirting with others in front of me? No, because, one , she knows I wouldn’t care, and two , she and I do not obsess over one another. We have a healthy relationship.”

“ Healthy . That’s like calling a burger with lettuce a salad.”

“I mean…”

“Shut up. Okay, then, what’s your sage advice?”

“I wish I had some. I’m just perfect. What I am cannot be replicated.”

“Such a fucking asshole.”

He sobers, leans into me and lowers his voice. “I’m serious, though. Just figure it out. We have bigger problems to worry about.” He straightens, slaps me on the back and says, “Now help me carry these shots to the table.”

“You know we have servers for this shit.”

“Yes, but they’re busy making us money so shut the fuck up and help me.”

With a grumble, I grab three glasses and follow him to our table in the far corner.

The table is a half-circle with a booth and three more chairs positioned in front of it. All of the seats are taken. They usually are.

“Get the fuck up.” Roc nods at the man at the end. The man was moving before Roc even opened his mouth, scurrying out of the way to make room for us.

Roc slides in first and I follow behind.

Shots are divvied up. There’s Comor, our most trusted leftenant; his girlfriend Pen; two of our bonebreakers, Tin and Pike; our cousin, Hana, still a respected member of the Lorne Court; and Callista, a Lorne Court healer, previously a Heart Court blood witch from Wonderland.

But we don’t talk about that. All of us refugees from Wonderland don’t talk about who we were before or what we could do.

Calli was one of the most powerful blood witches in Wonderland.

Roc and I have tried to poach her from the royal family but she won’t budge even though I think healing is beneath her.

Tin and Pike, sitting in the chairs opposite the booth, scoop up the shots before anyone can even suggest a toast. The alcohol is quickly sliding down their throats. They’re already drunk. It’s their night off so I suppose they’re allowed to get fucking blitzed.

“Where were you?” Hana asks, claiming her shot with two tattooed fingers.

“He was falling for the oldest trick in the book.” Callista winks at me as she tosses back her shot.

“Christ. Not you too.”

Roc drapes his arm over my shoulders and reels me into his side.

He smells like cigarettes and blood and liquor.

There’s a looseness about him tonight, like some of the pent-up energy of the last few weeks has finally abated.

He’s been a fucking prick the last month as we worked on striking a deal with the Lorne Court to take over Caligo Port, arguably the most important harbor in all of Darkland.

Today we shook hands on it.

Not without a price, though.

“Oh, don’t feel bad,” Callista goes on, spinning the empty shot glass on the table.

Her dark hair is half tied back, with several small braids hanging along her face.

There’s a silver hoop in her eyebrow and two hearts through her earlobes.

She may have left Wonderland a long time ago, but she still wears her loyalty to the Hearts like a badge.

“Alice is a Spade after all,” she says. “They really can’t help messing with your mind and pulling you down into the baser human instincts we all try to hide, dismiss, or ignore. You want my advice?”

“I don’t.”

“You can’t trust anything a spade says or does.”

“It’s not like I’d trust a heart either, Call,” I say back. “So, you don’t have a lot of room to talk.”

Comor whistles. “Damn.”

The witch pretends not to be phased. And maybe she isn’t. I’ve never seen Calli get ruffled. She served under the Queen of Hearts and somehow escaped Wonderland during the worst of the war. I don’t enjoy her company, but I do admire her tenacity.

I’ve known Alice longer than I’ve known Callista, but Call has a point. Wonderland Spades are smart, strategic, and sometimes diabolical. It’s why Roc and I brought Alice in under our wing. She’s good at what she does, gathering info, charming people, bending people to her will.

But sometimes I fall victim to it too. I fucking know that. I’m just not going to admit it to a heart witch.

“Oh look,” Call says, changing the subject, “you’re being summoned.”

I follow her line of sight across the Joker’s Den, where a group of people has entered from the inky darkness outside.

Half of the Lorne Court, with Prince Claude and Princess Rosalind at the front, followed by two of the lesser nobles, and Lady Genevieve beside them. Lady Gen is the daughter of the Duke of Darkland.

It’s Gen waving me over.

My shoulders tense up.

“Go,” Roc urges me, his expression now serious.

This is the price we had to pay, my duty to our future, compensation for our past.

At one time, Roc was in line to inherit the title of Duke of Darkland. We grew up among the Darkland elite, just as much a part of the Lorne Court as Hana. And then our father tried to overthrow the royal family.

We had anything we wanted. But apparently, everything wasn’t enough for Aaric Soren Maddred.

When his plans were uncovered, we went from titled noble assholes to banished assholes, stripped of our titles, our wealth, anything resembling an asset or luxury.

The Umbrage was the only place that took us in.

We were monsters, after all, and monsters make great bonebreakers.

Those in power in the Umbrage were happy to use us when they needed people to disappear.

Roc quickly became known as the Devourer of Men.

He’s nearly reached boogeyman status at this point.

So, is it a surprise we are now in control of most of the Umbrage?

Devouring an asshole or two was worth it.

But somehow, we’ve circled back to the Darkland elite.

And now they’re summoning me to their side.

I don’t love this arrangement, but there’s no room to have feelings about it.

I will do what needs to be done. And I will do it quietly.

I steal Hana’s shot and pound it back.

“Hey!” She lifts her hand in exasperation. “I was just going to drink that.”

“Roc will get you a new one.”

“I will, Hanny. Promise.”

She rolls her eyes at the childhood nickname but gives him a nod.

Gen waves again, more insistently this time, so I slip from the table and make my way across the bar to the future that awaits me.