Chapter 73 The Meeting
CALLUM
Valentina finds me on the roof two hours after the hunters retreat. I'm watching the Rookeries burn. Not literally. But three buildings got damaged in the fight, fires we barely contained, smoke still rising into the night sky.
"You should be resting," she says.
"Can't." I don't look at her. Keep watching the smoke. "Five people died tonight. Defending me. Defending you. How do I rest with that?"
She sits beside me. Close but not touching. We've worked together for months now but always maintained distance. Professional. Safe.
"They died defending the community," she says quietly. "Not you specifically. Not me. What we're building here."
"Semantics."
"Truth." She pulls her knees up, wraps her arms around them. "Rico broke. Gave Parliament my location. That's not his fault. Three days of torture would break anyone."
"Still got five people killed."
"Parliament got five people killed." Her voice hardens. "Mordaunt sent those hunters. He gave the orders. He's responsible."
She's right. Doesn't make me feel better.
We sit in silence for a while. The Rookeries settles around us. Wolves checking damaged buildings, tending wounded, burying dead. Community taking care of its own.
"Tell me about your mother," I say suddenly. Don't know why. Maybe because I need to think about something other than tonight's deaths.
Valentina goes still. "Why?"
"Because you never talk about yourself. Just bring intelligence, help with operations, risk your life repeatedly. But I don't know anything about you beyond the surface."
Another long silence.
Then she speaks.
"My mother was human. Fell in love with a vampire, had me as a result. Dhampir. Half-breed. Not quite human, not quite vampire." Her voice is carefully neutral. "Parliament didn't approve. Mixed breeding threatens their pure bloodlines. So they killed her. Made it look like an accident."
"How old were you?"
"Eight." She rests her chin on her knees. "Old enough to remember. Young enough to be helpless."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Sorry doesn't change anything." She glances at me. "Parliament kills whoever threatens their order. My mother. Your freedom. Doesn't matter if you're innocent. Matters if you're inconvenient."
Truth. Bitter truth.
"My brother framed me," I offer. Fair exchange. She told me her trauma, I'll tell her mine. "Cormac. We're twins. Seven minutes apart. Grew up together, loved each other. Then our father died and suddenly I was a threat."
"To his position as Alpha."
"Yeah." The wound still aches. Betrayal hurts worse than silver. "He manufactured evidence, paid witnesses, built a perfect case. Made me look guilty of murder and embezzlement. Sent me to prison, then exile."
"And now you're building what he destroyed."
"Trying to." I look at the Rookeries. Seventy-some wolves now, scattered across safe houses. "Some days I don't know if I'm building resistance or just collecting targets for Parliament to kill."
"Both." Valentina's honest. Always honest. "But at least we're together. Better than dying alone."
Same thing I told Danny weeks ago. Hearing it from her makes it feel true.
"Why do you help us?" I ask. "You could leave. Find somewhere safe. Instead you stay, fight, risk capture."
"Because Parliament killed my mother and I'm not forgiving that." Simple. Final. "Because helping you hurts them. Because every day your resistance survives is another day they don't get what they want."
"Revenge."
"Justice." She corrects. "Revenge is personal. Justice is systemic. I want the whole corrupt structure to burn."
I understand that. Want the same thing.
"We're going to die, aren't we?" The question slips out. "Fae illusions might buy time but eventually Parliament will crush us."
"Probably." She doesn't lie. I appreciate that. "But we'll make them work for it. Make them pay for every inch. Show other wolves that resistance is possible even if it's suicidal."
"Inspirational."
"Realistic." She finally looks at me directly. "I'm not here because I think we'll win. I'm here because losing while fighting is better than surrendering."
Our eyes meet. Hold.
There's something there. Has been for weeks. Attraction, connection, understanding. Two broken people fighting the same enemy, finding comfort in shared damage.
I lean closer. She doesn't move away.
"Callum," she starts.
The roof access door explodes open.
Tom bursts through, bleeding from a shoulder wound. "Hunters! Six of them, hitting the main shelter. They're asking for Valentina by name."
Valentina's on her feet instantly. "How long?"
"Two minutes ago. Isla's evacuating but they're cutting off exits."
We run.
Down the stairs, through the building, out into the street. I can hear fighting three blocks away. Screams, gunfire, the wet sound of claws meeting flesh.
"They're here for me." Valentina's already pulling weapons. Silver knife, wooden stakes, holy water vial. "I should lead them away."
"No." I grab her arm. "We fight together."
"Callum, if I leave, they follow. Everyone else survives."
"You leave, you die alone." I meet her eyes. "We don't abandon our own. Ever."
She searches my face. Whatever she sees there makes her nod.
"Together then."
We reach the shelter as hunters breach the front entrance.