"I'll have some of yer things brought over from the hotel so ye'll have them in the morning."
Her dark gaze met his and he saw the gratitude reflected in their depths. "Thank you, Sinjin. You've been a good friend to me."
He stepped forward and slid his hand behind her neck, angling her head down as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Throat tight, he released her and left her in peace to clean up.
His thoughts were jumbled as he walked to the library. When was the last time a woman had thanked him for being her friend? He and Bliss had been friends, best friends in fact, but what woman had he been friends with since her?
He dropped the portfolio on the desk. Placing his palms flat on the highly polished mahogany, he stretched his back, silently willing his tense muscles to release. Friends or not, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so frightened as when he'd seen her strapped to the gurney and the EMTs taking her away. Judging from the marks around her neck, she'd come close to dying this evening.
He straightened. He was tired, though it would be several hours before he would be forced to seek his rest. He wouldn't be able to protect her when he was encased in his dark slumber and she couldn't stay here alone. He'd have to contact someone who could walk about in the day to keep an eye on her, just until he was sure she'd be safe.
With his keen senses, he heard the shower come on. Images of her standing naked in his shower surfaced. Her slender limbs glistening as soap and hot water poured over her baby-soft skin...
His cock stirred to life, straining against his jeans. He glanced down at the taut fabric. It seemed like ever since he'd met her, he'd had a constant hard on. He was as bad as any perpetually horny seventeen-year-old male. So much for his control. He didn't have time for the distraction, not now at least.
He picked up the portfolio and carried it to the closet, opening the door. A large safe occupied most of the small space. With a few flicks of his wrist, he opened the safe and secured the precious documents. His first task was to inform Alexandre and the Council that he had found the diary. No doubt he'd be charged with trying to decipher the text as soon as possible.
He located his cell phone in the top desk drawer. As he dialed, he caught the faint scent of his shampoo. He groaned. Of course she was using his shampoo, what other choice did she have? He could well imagine the streams of white bubbles running down her luscious curves as she rinsed her hair. Her skin slick with soap, her nipples hard-
Alexandre's voice mail interrupted his daydream. At the shrill beep, he left a message. "It's me, give me a call."
He flipped the phone closed and broke the connection before tossing it onto the desk. What secrets would the diary yield? He reached over and pushed the power button on his computer. The bottom line was that Mikhail had to be defeated and the preternatural world united under one leader. But could the current council pull off that feat?
He turned to his computer and opened his email program. The odds were stacked against them. They currently had the largest share of the preternatural world on their side, but Mikhail's followers were willing to die in order to win the war. Nothing was more dangerous than a radical armed with misguided information.
In the bathroom, he heard the shower stop as his incoming email scrolled across the screen. He saw several emails from Lily, his assistant with the chronicles. Should he read them now or see to it that Vivian was settled for the night? He had a lot to accomplish before he sought his own bed but he wanted to see her, just to make sure she was comfortable before he sat down to work.
Sure...that's it...
He ignored the taunting voice in his head as he left the library and approached the bedroom. He tapped on the polished door.
."Come in." Her voice was muffled.
He opened the door and entered. She'd turned off the lights save one small Tiffany lap in the corner. Vivian lay bundled under a pile of blankets and all he could see were her brilliant sapphire eyes.
"Are ye cold?" he asked.
"A little." Through the blankets, she shivered even though the room was comfortable. Shock no doubt.
"Would ye like me to light a fire?"
She pushed down the blankets and peered at the white marble fireplace. "Yes, please."
"I've always loved the scent of burning wood. It reminds me of home." He dropped into a crouch before the fireplace and reached for the matches.
"Did you have a lot of fireplaces in your childhood home?"
Sinjin grinned at the thought of his sprawling castle, Aisling Crioch, secreted in a secluded valley in the Highlands. "Ye could say that. The house has no central heating so to stay warm, all I have are fireplaces and coal stoves."
"Sounds drafty."
The tinder caught and within seconds the bark on the logs began to scorch. "Aye, 'tis in spots. The house is very old and made of stone so, no matter what I do, some parts of the house remain as cold as a grave all year 'round."
"I don't think I'd like that."
He rose. "Ye'd love the Highlands. 'Tis the most beautiful place in the world with miles and miles of rolling green, rocks, mountains and cows."
"You miss it."
"Aye."
"Why don't you go back?"
"It isn't time."
Vivian looked thoughtful, then nodded. "I can understand that."
He sat on the edge of the bed. "Is there anything else I can get for ye?"
She shook her head.
"I'll leave ye in peace then."
A look of panic came over her face, stopping him. Her gaze darted around the room as if she expected masked attackers to leap at her from the dim corners.
"Would ye prefer I stay a while?"
In that moment, she seemed to gather herself and the haughty look he remembered from when he first met her was back. "No, thank you."
"Maybe right now I'm the one needing assurances that ye're all right." He chuckled at how quickly she scooted over, allowing him room in the broad bed. He stretched out beside her, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "Do ye want to talk about it?"
She burrowed her head into his shoulder. "It was horrible. I was walking along and he just grabbed me and shoved me into the wall." She shuddered. "I don't want to talk about it. Why don't you tell me a story instead?"
"A story? What kind?"
"A love story, something sweet."
An image of Bliss drifted through his mind and he pushed it away. "Dinna ken much about love stories."
She chuckled, her voice rough from the abuse her throat had received. "I don't believe you."
"Well, 'tis true. My reputation is greatly exaggerated I'm afraid." He felt her shiver. "Still cold?"
She gave a jerky nod.
He pulled her closer and tucked her into his side. A thick layer of blankets separated them as he rubbed on her back and arm, trying to warm her. "I've loved but one woman. The moment I saw her, I knew she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with." He felt her relax against him. "There was never any doubt in her mind nor mine."
"Tell me about her."
Sinjin knew he couldn't tell her the complete truth; Vivian's mortal mind wouldn't be able to accept their story so he'd have to fudge the truth a bit. "Well, she was tiny, blonde and not so fierce as ye."
"I'm not fierce-"
"Ye can be. Bliss was fragile, yet strong as steel in her own way. She was a bit timid when I first met her and she had an overpowering mother who'd dominated her but after we met, Bliss finally got away from her and we spent all of our time together. We shared a love for hiking and the ocean. We went to the opera and for long carriage rides just holding hands and talking. I couldn't imagine ever being with anyone else as long as I lived."
"Then what happened?"
"Her mother stepped in. Said that if Bliss didn't leave me, she would see to it that I was destroyed. Her mother was a very powerful woman and many feared her. While I won't say that I was afraid of her, I was certainly smart enough to be wary of what she could do." He
took a deep breath as the remembered pain lanced his heart. "Bliss was so loyal and protective, and she was torn over what was happening. It was destroying her and, one day, she left."
"Just like that?"
"Aye, just like that."
"Were you heartbroken?"
"I swore to never love another."
"What happened to her?"
"Time passed and we rekindled the relationship as friends. Her mother never knew about it, of course. Then, last year, Bliss was killed in a kidnap attempt." Vivian made a noise of sympathy. "Someone was trying to kidnap the son of a mutual friend and Bliss died saving him."
"Then her death wasn't in vain."
Sinjin paused. He'd never looked at it that way. Max was indeed safe and Bliss had paid the ultimate price for his life by giving hers. Yes, she'd succeeded. Bliss had loved little Max and she'd have been devastated if anything had happened to him. Silent, he gave Vivian a hug.
"What happened to her mother?"
"Died about six weeks after her daughter."
"How sad is that?" Vivian sighed. "Don't you know any good stories?"
"Aye."
"Why don't you tell one of them instead?"
Her voice was growing slurred with sleep.
"Because it's time for ye to rest."
"Not tired..."
He chuckled. She was like a two-year-old fighting sleep and getting cranky. "Hush now."
She was silent for a moment, then spoke again. "There were two of them. One big guy and a little guy."
He rubbed her shoulder, not saying anything as he silently willed her to speak and get everything off her chest. It would enable her to sleep better if she told someone of her traumatic experience.
"They were looking for a book and they must have thought I was someone else." She rubbed her face against him like a sleepy cat. "I don't even have a diary."
Diary?
"They told ye they were looking for a diary?"
"Yes, but one said I was the wrong woman." She shuddered. "I keep thinking about her out there somewhere and she has these thugs looking for her and she probably doesn't even know it yet." Her voice trailed off as she drifted into sleep.
This was no random mugging. They were looking for Elena and had mistaken Vivian for the werewolf. They were roughly the same build and long dark hair, though Vivian was taller. In the dark they would look similar enough that they could be mistaken for one another. Was it Miles? Did he know Elena had the diary and he'd returned to claim it?
Whatever the answer he had to find out fast. Vivian had almost lost her life over the book and her relationship with him had placed her right on the front lines. The only way to keep her safe would be to get her away from him and New Orleans.
He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of Vivian by his side and knowing that, for her own good, it had to be the last time.
"Did you get the diary?"
Miles gripped the phone, his knuckles white as Mikhail's voice grated in his ear. "No, not yet. We've found the woman and expect to have it in our hands within twenty-four hours."
Mikhail chuckled. "See to it. I have work to accomplish and this little snag is impeding my progress."
The click on the line announced the broken connection. Miles barely controlled his rage as he replaced the receiver. His current lowly position in the hierarchy of Mikhail's army grated on his nerves. This was what he got for trusting a woman. Silently he cursed Cass and her treacherous ways. She'd paid the ultimate price with her life, but she'd left him in an untenable situation. He'd have to claw his way to the top of the heap again. Then he would make Mikhail pay for brushing him off so lightly.
The rustle of sheets brought his attention to the prostitute in his bed. Her dark hair was tangled about her head, her dusky limbs tied to the posts of the bed, leaving her nude and spread- eagled. Needle tracks marked her arms, leaving them bruised and reddened from her drug habit.
She was a nasty, sad piece of work. If it weren't for her resemblance to Cass, he never would have gotten near her. Nude, he set the phone on the floor and stalked to the bed. The whore was slowly coming around, her head moving as she moaned softly.
He wrapped a meaty hand around his cock, jerking on his semi-erect flesh as he imagined the woman on the bed wasn't a twenty-dollar whore, but Cass with her perfumed limbs and heated gaze. He closed his eyes as the memory of her sultry laugh wrapped around him, energizing him. His erection surged in his hand and he panted as his movements increased.
Just as release neared, he climbed onto the bed and rammed himself into the prostitute's damp flesh. His fingers curled around her slender throat as he pounded into her again and again.
"Cass..."
Beneath him, he could feel the woman struggle, but she made nary a sound as his fingers tightened. Her neck snapped as his release washed over him.
* * *
Chapter 9
The first thing Vivian heard upon awakening was a moan.
She lay silent for a moment, trying to place the noise. The room was quiet and the scent of wood smoke lingered in the air. Wondering what time it was, she moved and the moan echoed again. This time she realized it came from her own throat.
She stilled. It hurt to move, even breathe. Remaining still, she took stock of her injuries. Her head throbbed, but her throat hurt worse. It was as bad as the time she'd had tonsillitis in grade school. Combined with her headache, it was worse than any hangover she'd ever experienced in her life. Her right side was sore where she must have landed on it and her elbow was tight and hot.
But the most pressing problem was that she needed to go to the bathroom. Just the thought of attempting to get out of bed made her stomach roll dangerously.
"Pills," she moaned. "I need drugs."
"So you're awake."
Vivian's eyes flew open and she sat up at the sound of a strange voice. A young woman sat by the window and Vivian thought for a second it might be her friend, Shai. Then pain shot through her skull and she grabbed her head, praying it wouldn't come apart. She heard a soft mewling sound, like that of a kitten, and she was astonished to realize it came from her.
"There now, take it easy." The voice was soothing as were the cool hands that helped her lean back against the abundance of pillows that miraculously appeared stacked behind her.
Vivian felt the bed dip as the woman sat down beside her.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
"My name is Maeve. I'm a friend of Sinjin's."
Another one of his women no doubt.
Hesitant, Vivian opened her eyes, blinking at the intrusion of sunlight. For a second, all she could see was a feminine figure clad in black. Around her head was a coronet of gold like the paintings of religious figures from the medieval period.
Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the intrusion of light and the stranger beside her took form. Her resemblance to Shai was breathtaking. Her hair was deep auburn, the shade women strived to achieve by coloring but usually failed miserably. Long and loose, it caught the sunlight and exploded into flames of silk on her shoulders.
Her eyes were the same shade of emerald, and they were the oldest eyes she'd ever seen. Deep in their mesmerizing depths resided a wealth of knowledge and life, and from her appearance, not all of it was good. She had the look of a warrior, her body well-toned, her arms rippled with muscles. Dressed in black pants, black tank top and a small silver pentagram on a chain around her neck, she looked ready to do battle.
"Have you looked your fill?" her tone was amused.
Vivian blinked. It wasn't often someone took her by surprise but this woman had managed it. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare."
She smiled. "It's not every day you find a stranger in your bedroom."
"It's not that. You resemble a friend of mine."
"Shai Jordan?"
Vivian gaped. "You know Shai?"
"I do. 'Tis a small world we reside in, Vivian." Maeve said. "I've met most of your circle. Erihn, Shai, Jennifer, and I've
heard stories of you." Her eyes gleamed with amusement.
Vivian gave a throaty chuckle, then winced in pain. "I'll bet you have. But she was another woman."
The smile slid from Maeve's face, her expression now sober. "That's too bad. I'd always thought I would enjoy meeting that Vivian. She sounded like a lot of fun. I hope she isn't completely gone."
Vivian gave her a wobbly smile. "Well, maybe not all of her is vanquished." She glanced around the room, noting the open door and the gloom of the hallway. She shivered.
Maeve gave her an understanding smile. "Don't worry, Vivian, you're safe here."
"I don't feel very safe." To her dismay, she felt her lip tremble.
Maeve laid a hand on her arm and a strange sense of calm invaded her. It was as if a mild pain medication had been released within her system. Vivian could feel her body relax as her pain faded to a more manageable level. "No one would dare trespass here. Sinjin will see to that." She removed her hand and the odd, floaty sensation remained in place of the pain. "Now, let's get you cleaned up and I'll fix you some breakfast."
Numb, Vivian nodded, strangely willing to follow wherever this magical woman wanted to take her.
The sun was warm on her skin as Vivian lay in a comfortable lounge chair in the overgrown courtyard. Beside her on a small table was a glass vase filled with a bright arrangement of flowers from Detective Draven. She smiled. What a nice man he was. Handsome, charismatic and she could tell he would be good in bed. He knew how to make a woman feel like the center of the universe when he talked to her. With his concentration focused on her, nothing else existed but the two of them. Too bad she wasn't attracted to him. Her smile faded. A nice, uncomplicated relationship was preferable to the emotional tangle Sinjin had placed on her shoulders.
She sighed and looked around the wildly overgrown courtyard that Sinjin called home. Crumbling brick paths were weed choked, the flowerbeds resembled a wilderness with only a few roses gone wild. In the center was a dilapidated fountain. Moss grew thick over what she suspected was a young woman, though she looked as if she were bundled for winter weather in her voluminous green pelt. The basin was filled with thick, stagnant water and wisps of weeds.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 6 Page 10
