31
Ben was waiting in her caravan when Tenzin returned from the dinner hour in the clearing.
“Hello.” She hadn’t been expecting him after she heard him fighting with René, had instead assumed he’d brood for some time.
“Hey.” Ben stretched his neck back and forth. “Ran into René on the way over here. Got sidetracked.”
“Yes, I heard. Does he still have all his limbs?”
“As far as I know.”
“I did not have sex with him.” She was distracted, disturbed by the scent of Vano on Ben and the faint scent of Ben’s blood. Had he been wounded in his argument with René? Why did he smell like Vano? “René did stay in my trailer. He was telling me what he knows about Fynn, and the sunrise caught him.”
“Yeah.” Ben wrinkled his nose. “I can smell him in here.”
“He was in the bed.” She sat across from him at the table. “I haven’t slept in a while.”
“Stating the obvious,” he muttered.
He didn’t know. Ben could have no idea that she had been sleeping nearly an hour each day the first six months after they’d exchanged blood. Then it had faded away like a beautiful, forgotten dream. “Why are you here?”
“You losing patience with me?” His shoulders were tense.
“Is that what you’re trying to provoke?” Tenzin wasn’t losing patience, but she was mentally tired. “You want to fight.”
She hadn’t been able to fully meditate with René in her trailer. She didn’t trust him that much, even if he was young and seemingly dead to the world. She knew she could rouse him if she needed him to be useful, which was the only reason she’d allowed him there in the first place.
Meanwhile, her emotional parries with Ben had been trying. He frustrated her because he had no idea what he wanted. Normally that wouldn’t bother her, but for the first time in centuries—a thousand years, perhaps—she didn’t know what she wanted either.
There was no balance between them anymore. Neither one could anchor the other, and she had come to depend on that anchor.
She was a creature of the moment, trying to imagine a future that depended on another person’s whims. Ben could embrace her, offer his love again, and agree to pursue this strange new adventure with her. Tenzin was ready for that.
Ben could also cling to his anger like he appeared to be doing in this moment, resent her, and cut her out of his life for the next hundred years. She had every confidence he’d come back to her eventually, but Tenzin had truly hoped it wouldn’t take that long. Life without him was far more tedious than she wanted.
Ben was angry about something, but he wasn’t saying what it was.
“Tell me.” She picked up a stack of notes she’d written during the day while René slept.
“What?”
She set the notes down again. “Tell me why you’re angry this time.”
“This time?”
“Yes. You’re always angry, but this time it is about something specific.” Was it Vano? His foolish obsession with René?
“Did you take the goblet?” he asked quietly.
“No.” Though she wanted to. She really, really wanted to.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Is that supposed to surprise me?” She picked up her notes again. “You often do not believe me. You said you got a rubbing off the citrine goblet, but you never showed it to me. Is it in your trailer?”
“What do you mean, I’m always angry?” He stared at her intently.
“There is no hidden meaning, Benjamin. You have been angry since the moment I met you, and that anger has never waned.”
He blinked. “That’s not true.”
“You hide it well, but it’s always there.” She paged through her notes, avoiding his eyes. He was a predator now—a part of him had always been a predator—and she didn’t feel the need to provoke him.
“You’re just making shit up now.”
Tenzin sighed. “You can lie to yourself, but I am trying to be more honest with you, so don’t insist I lie to you too.”
His hand slammed down on the table and his anger spiked, filling the air around them.
Tenzin carefully set down her notes and raised her eyes. “Do not threaten me.”
His amnis shimmered like heat off a desert plateau. “If I’m angry, it’s because you took the most important choice in my life away from me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That is not why.”
“Fuck you!” He stood and walked away from the table, but there was little room to move, even in a larger-than-average travel caravan.
Cursing was unusual for Ben. At least when he was arguing with her. He was balancing on a very thin edge.
“Benjamin, immortality does not change who we are; it only reveals it.” She drew a careful breath. “You were angry when you were young. You were angry as a child. You were angry as a man. Now you are angry as a vampire. Do not blame this on me.”
Violent energy rolled off him in waves. “I do blame you.”
“I know you do.”
“So why the fuck did you do it, Tenzin?” His rage exploded, the anger mixed with sorrow as his eyes turned glassy and red. “You took away the one person I needed to get through this.”
His pain made her physically hurt. It brought her back to the night she’d flown over the ocean with his dying mortal body in her arms. The memory of rage and desperation threatened to reach up and choke her, but she forced it back.
It is not about you; it is about him.
“I’m here,” she said. “I never went anywhere.”
“But you ruined everything.” He gripped his hair in both his hands. “Because even if I’m okay with this now, I can’t trust you again. And I needed to trust you, Tenzin. I loved you. You were my best friend and my partner, and nothing makes sense without you.”
His pain stabbed at her, sharper—keener—than her own. “I’m still here.”
“Everyone wanted to know” —he began to pace— “why doesn’t Ben want to be a vampire? What’s his hang-up? Why is he being so stubborn?”
Tenzin let him rage.
“Do you know why?” He turned and shouted in her face. “I didn’t want to be like you! Do you understand that? I didn’t want to be a vampire because I didn’t want to be cold and unfeeling and selfish. Like. You.”
Tenzin swallowed the hurt. Ben was young and his emotions were going to be erratic; his control was on a razor-thin edge.
“I am selfish,” she said softly. “And I can be cold. But I am not unfeeling. And being with you has made me less of all those things.”
His smile was bitter. “Oh, I’m so glad I could be part of your modern humanization program.”
She forced herself to speak. “I will never apologize for taking you to my father, but I am sorry that immortality has forced you to face the things you’ve been trying to hide from yourself. I know that is not easy or comfortable.”
“Fuck you. You’re so full of shit. You’ll blame everyone and everything else to avoid your own responsibility.”
“No. I have never done that.” She considered her answer. “I have never done that about anything as important as you.”
“You’re a liar and a thief.” He stepped away. “And I can’t believe I thought we could be… more. That we could get past you betraying me. Betraying us.”
“I am a thief, but I am not lying to you.” She swallowed the ache in her throat. “And I am here when you need me. Always.”
“I don’t need you.” He walked to the door. “And when this is finished, I want you out of my life. For real and for good this time. Just get the fuck away.”
Ben flew to the forest next to the camp, hovering in the night sky and letting the air soothe his anger. It whispered along his skin, petting him and reassuring him.
Angry? He wasn’t angry. Okay, he’d had a shitty childhood, but he hit the jackpot when Giovanni adopted him, and he’d put that in the past.
His t
emper leeched into the darkness; the air absorbed it, enveloped it, and whispered it away. He closed his eyes and imagined being curled in Tenzin’s loft in New York, her slight body pressed to his side, her low voice reading from a familiar story.
There was once a witch who desired to know everything. But the wiser a witch is, the harder she knocks her head against the wall when she comes to it. Her name was Watho, and she had a wolf in her mind…
Ben saw Radu in the clearing, under a starlit, cloudless sky.
“Ben!” Radu rose and called to him. “Come, my friend. Come join us.”
Radu was sitting at the table with Kezia. A bottle of blood-wine was open between them, and Radu’s cheeks were flushed. Ben had a feeling he hadn’t only been feeding from the blood-wine.
He looked at them, two decadent immortals with servants hovering around them. He surveyed the other guests—rich beyond what he could imagine—tossing money at strangers to make themselves disappear into luxury while they escaped the chaos they’d likely caused in the outside world. Parasites indulging in games and wine and music every night in fairy-tale settings while others cleaned up their messes.
Ben was so tired of them.
“Radu.” He sat and nodded to Kezia, trying to mask his disdain. “Kezia, how are you?”
“Contemplating how a fine bottle of schnapps ended up spilled across my floor,” she remarked dryly. “Do you have any ideas?”
Ben didn’t feel like playing her games. “Are there earthquakes in this area?”
“Not usually.”
Radu said, “But there are earth vampires, are there not?” He laughed and nodded toward René, who was glaring at Ben from a distant table. “One of whom you invited yourself.”
Kezia smiled. “At your urging, if I recall.”
“Was it?” Radu lifted his glass. “It’s good to see old friends.”
“Like Tenzin.” Kezia looked at Ben. “I know you and Tenzin are old friends, are you not?”
“Whatever Tenzin and I are, it’s definitely more complicated than friendship,” Ben said. “Though I’m sure I haven’t known her as long as you two have.” He forced himself to smile.
“Yes.” Radu pointed his glass at Ben. “In that you are correct. I told you…” He glanced at Kezia. “Tenzin is an accomplished thief.”
You have no idea.
“Foolish men.” Kezia smiled. “Tenzin only steals things that want to be stolen.”
Radu snorted. “What wants to be stolen, my sister?”
She turned her eyes to Ben. “Some things.”
He forced himself to ignore the glaring subtext. “Whatever her reputation, Tenzin has been a good partner in the art-acquisition business,” he said. “Though obviously we only retrieve items for clients like Radu who are the true owners of a piece.” He reached for an empty glass and helped himself to some blood-wine. “Like the icon.”
Kezia and Radu exchanged a look.
“Of course,” Radu said. “So wonderful to have it back in my collection.”
“Yes,” Kezia replied. “A sacred treasure should be with its rightful owner.”
Ben turned to her. “Do you think so?”
“Absolutely.” She pouted. “Now if I could just find a new bottle of schnapps.”
Radu said, “Perhaps Tenzin could steal one for you.” He laughed uproariously and slapped Ben on the shoulder. “I am joking of course.”
He was definitely not joking. Radu still thought Tenzin had the goblet.
Ben noticed Vano lurking along the edges of the clearing. “Your brother is here,” he said. “Should we invite him for a drink?”
“Oof.” Kezia rolled her eyes. “Vano is the definition of that American phrase: buzzkill.”
Radu laughed. “I am afraid I have to agree. Vano is the businessman among us, Ben. He cares nothing for telling stories.”
“Really?” Ben openly stared at Vano as the man stared back. “I don’t know; he seems hungry.”
Kezia said, “He is always working. Work, work, work.” She rolled her eyes. “He is spending the week before Vashana asking the darigan for household inventory. Why? Let them relax!”
Radu waved a careless hand. “His motives are inexplicable.”
“Perhaps he’s worried they don’t have what they need,” Ben said.
“He should look to his own house,” Kezia said. “For mine is well-provisioned.”
Ben wondered if Kezia had as good a grip on her people as she thought. More than one revolution had started because the people were dissatisfied with the excess of their rulers. And he hadn’t forgotten what Radu said when he first took the job.
…if confidence is lost at any time, the mortal and immortal members of the Poshaniya will overthrow that member and choose another.
Ben didn’t want to probe too hard. “Tell me about this festival,” he said. “What does it commemorate?”
“It is a celebration of our sire’s day of turning,” Radu said. “During the first full moon of the summer, all the Poshani gather. It is a party of course, and a chance to catch up with friends and family.”
“But,” Kezia said. “The terrin—my brothers and I—we also take up important matters.” She glanced at Radu. “This year is particularly important for our people’s future.”
“Oh?” Ben was curious how much she’d share.
“Outsiders should take no special notice,” Kezia said. “You are invited for the parties, not the politics.”
Radu cleared his throat. “Ben, what has been your favorite part of traveling with the Dawn Caravan?”
“Other than the company?” Ben lifted his glass.
Kezia and Radu clinked theirs with appreciative noises.
“Of course the company!”
“A good story will save a night,” Kezia said. “And what else?”
“I love the music.” He saw Vano headed in the direction of Tenzin’s trailer. “Uh… the food has been great too. Just everything. I love the scenery.”
“We are headed to a beautiful lake region,” Kezia said. “You will enjoy it.”
“Perhaps.” Radu’s voice was sharp. “The darigan, of course, decide where and when the caravan travels. They take many things into consideration.”
“Yes.” Kezia smiled. “We all depend on the wisdom of the darigan.”
Ben lifted his glass. “To the wisdom of the darigan.”
“To the darigan,” Radu toasted.
The corner of Kezia’s mouth turned up. “May they never burn us alive.”
Tenzin hovered in a shadow, listening to Ben, Kezia, and Radu speak.
“May they never burn us alive.”
Wow. Dark.
Tenzin wasn’t worried about the darigan burning her in her sleep. She didn’t sleep and she always had an escape plan when it came to any situation. Currently, it involved a very heavy cloak stored under her bed and the location of natural limestone caves within a few minutes’ flying distance, should the need arise.
But why was Kezia questioning the loyalty of the darigan? Had something fundamental changed? The interdependence of the darigan and the Hazar was a foundational part of Poshani culture. What could disturb that?
Tenzin landed softly on the grass behind a kitchen trailer and started walking back to her caravan. She’d suspected Vano from the beginning, but now she was wondering just how much Kezia might be involved. Maybe it wasn’t Vano trying to maneuver Radu out of the terrin. Maybe it was Vano and Kezia trying to make a trio into a duo of power.
She rounded the corner and sensed a large group just ahead.
Vano and some of his men if she had to guess by scent.
Interesting.
She hesitated for a moment and considered taking to the air. But seconds later, she felt something tight wrap around her ankles as a thin metal net enveloped her from head to toe.
What on earth?
Tenzin allowed herself to fall to the ground. She was curious what their plan was.
Vano walked o
ut from behind her caravan. “A bird in a net.”
Tenzin stared at him. “Do you actually think this will hold me?”
“It will hold you long enough.”
Four men grabbed her.
Tenzin laughed as they lifted her on their shoulders and flew away. “The hospitality of the Poshani has been greatly overstated.”
32
“Oooooh.” Brigid’s voice was pained. “She told you.”
“Told me what?” Ben was in his room, an hour before sunrise, still brooding over what Tenzin had said.
“The anger thing. That’s what reminded me so much of my life from the beginning.” She moved from a babble of background noise into silence. “Now listen, I know you’re probably—”
“I’m not an angry person, Brigid!” Ben was pacing again. He was very ready to be living in something bigger than his kitchen back in New York. The Poshani caravans might be the height of camping luxury, but they were still cramped. “She’s completely off. I mean, I’m angry about this of course. I’m angry about her.”
“I was going to say you’re probably in denial.”
What the fuck? Ben’s mouth fell open. “You think she’s right?”
“Right?” Brigid asked. “Of course she’s right. Carwyn and I talked about it immediately after you turned.”
Ben could only blink.
“Your childhood was shit, Ben. Your mother is a con artist and your father was abusive. You’ve told me that yourself. And childhood shouldn’t be shit, so you have a right to be angry about that. I also think you have a little bit of a death wish and have had for quite a while. Which is related but another thing altogether, and I’m not a therapist.” She took a breath. “Have you considered visiting Anne?”
“I don’t need therapy!”
“Of course you fecking need therapy. We’re all messes; we all need bloody therapy. You stole a vampire’s wallet at age twelve. And then when he wanted to adopt you, you just went along with it. I mean, Gio’s a good person, but did you know that at age twelve? Of course you fecking didn’t. You don’t think you had a death wish?”
Dawn Caravan: Elemental Legacy Book Four (Elemental Legacy Novels 4) Page 24
