“Need more evidence than my word. I got it.”
“Beatrice.” He slid his hand under my chin and tipped it so I would meet his gaze. “I’m so sorry for the loss of your brother. I believe that you believe what you saw was real, and was Luc. I do not doubt your word. But, the memories from childhood…they’re so easy to alter in our own minds even as we seek clarity. They’re shadows of reality. I’d hate to condemn a man I trust based on such memories.”
He was right. But everything in my being insisted that Luc was in the vision I’d seen as a child. And his presence in the vision from the brand hadn’t yet been explained either. Even though it was starting to look more like Nicolas was responsible for that crime.
“I know what I saw.” There was nothing else to say but that, although I didn’t have anything concrete to argue with. Frustration and helplessness rolled through me, and must have shown in my expression, because Claude stepped toward me again.
“I’m more worried that they may have seen you. If Nicolas believes you overheard them…” He shook his head. “I can’t let him hurt you, mon amour.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know how to feel. My gut twisted and my pulse raced. Happiness that he cared warred with fear at the resignation in his voice.
“Maybe you should finish getting dressed.” I stepped away. I couldn’t be so close to him right now and still think straight.
He laughed softly. “All right. I will get dressed. We will sleep. And tomorrow, we will do what needs to be done.”
He’d said we. We would do what needed to be done. But he’d meant I. That much was obvious when I awoke alone the next morning. I called his name once, but the silence in the condo was oppressive.
“Fucking idiot,” I muttered. He’d left a note by the coffeepot. Basic, but gut-wrenching all the same. Let him take care of his problem. Couldn’t let anyone else be hurt. Blah blah blah… We’d do dinner.
He was a stupid, heroic vampire. An irreplaceable man. And he was walking into a trap.
Even on the off chance Nicolas didn’t expect him. Wasn’t planning on him showing up to protect me or seek justice. It didn’t matter. Nicolas wouldn’t be alone. As the son of a Magister and powerful vampire in his own right, he’d have handlers or bodyguards or a few fucking yes men to help him off Claude. And Claude was going in with a dangerous assumption: that Luc’s loyalties were with him, not with his own son.
I couldn’t let that happen.
He might hate me for it, might consider it a betrayal, but I had to go to the police.
I dressed quickly and decided to go to Chicago’s Paranormal Unit. My words would carry more weight with the Otherworlder Enforcement Agency, but Chicago’s freak squad was better staffed than the local OWEA branch. And they had more reason to give a shit about Claude. I considered calling, but the situation was too complex, too difficult to explain over the telephone. It would be simpler, and quicker, in person.
As if affected by my mood, gray clouds hung heavily over the city, and the oppressive cold sank through my coat and scarf almost immediately. I looked down the street for a cab. There. I raised my hand to wave, and a sharp pain stabbed the back of my neck. Someone pulled me against his body. I could see and hear the rush of the wind, but I couldn’t move my head to see who held me. My mouth wouldn’t work. Panic roared through me, but I couldn’t cry out. Couldn’t fight back.
The gloved arm pulled me into a car, and finally I caught a glimpse of the man’s face. The man who was kidnapping me.
Luc Chevalier. The Magister.
Frustration fought against the panic as we pulled away from the curb. I was lain across the backseat of the vehicle, my legs across Luc’s lap. I couldn’t see the driver. Dark tinted windows hid us from the rest of the world. For a brief moment, I had the insane idea that they couldn’t see me. That I wasn’t really there. That I was instead locked into someone else’s vision. An idea that Luc quickly shattered.
“I apologize for the spell, Miss Davis. You’ll understand that we couldn’t have you calling out for help or hurting yourself trying to get away.”
The vampire’s voice was smooth, placating. The voice of a politician.
“You won’t be harmed. You have my word.”
Right. Totally a politician. I could see why the vampires followed him. I almost believed him when he said I wouldn’t be harmed. I wanted to believe him. But, I also wasn’t an idiot. People weren’t kidnapped, allowed to see their kidnappers, and then simply released. It just didn’t happen.
Panic rose in me again at the thought, and I pushed it down as best I could and tried to think my way through the situation. I still couldn’t move. But chances were, if this was a basic disabling spell Luc commissioned, I would be immobilized for less than an hour. Surely it would take longer than that for them to take me somewhere to kill me, or whatever they had planned for me first. I’d get my chance then.
But what kind of chance would I have?
Luc was one of the strongest vampires in the country, and definitely on the shortlist for the most powerful in the world. Sure, there were probably a few who could take him out in Europe and Asia where the older families lived, but I didn’t have an ancient vampire handy, so fighting my way free wasn’t an option.
I’d have to run. Or scream. Possibly run away screaming.
Awesome plan.
Luc didn’t say anything else, and we rode silently for a while. Finally, a tingle started in my fingertips. The spell was wearing off—and by my estimate we’d been driving nearly an hour. If I had to, maybe I could surprise them. Jump out of the car when it slowed. Bruises and broken bones were better than being dead.
Before I could contemplate how best to roll when I hit the ground, the car slowed and the light outside the windows dimmed. The car engine ceased its rumble, and Luc opened the door. We’d arrived, wherever it was we were going.
Luc pulled me out of the car carefully, then carried me as if I were a bride, across the threshold into a house. The smell of cigarettes touched my nose, but I couldn’t be sure if it was the house, or someone walking in front of us. A cottage-cheese ceiling was all I could make out from my vantage point, and I frowned. No way were we at the Magister’s house. The vampire just didn’t strike me as the type to have 1980s popcorn ceilings anywhere on his property.
My arm twitched of its own volition and Luc made an approving noise.
“Good. You’ll be able to move normally in a minute or two. That’ll make this easier.”
We emerged from the hallway, and the smell of old cigarettes filled my nose. Oh yes, it was the house that stank. Whoever lived here wasn’t worried about cracking a window for a smoke. Luc lay me down on a couch, gentle again. If he really intended to kill me, would he be so careful not to hurt me now?
A door slammed in another room. A loud thump, like an exterior door, but not from the same direction we’d entered. The light sound of footsteps approaching. My heart jumped into my throat. Another vampire? Why the hell not? I could handle three as well as two—meaning not at all.
“What the hell did you do to her?” The voice was familiar and, even across the room, sent hope rushing through me. But the hope was quickly stamped out by dread.
Claude was here. But so was Luc and who knew how many vampires?
What chance did we have?
“It’s a simple disabling spell. She’s otherwise unharmed.”
Movement in the corner of my eye made me start, and to my surprise, my body actually twitched.
“Jesus, Luc. I could have picked her up. This wasn’t necessary.” Footsteps against carpet, then, “Can you move, Beatrice?” Claude’s voice was low and soothing, and only inches from my ear. “Try to move.”
It took a couple of minutes, but with some concentrated effort and a whole lot of built up fear and anger, I was able to work myself up into a sitting position.
“…Fucker,” I finally managed once I could speak again.
Luc offe
red me a small, apologetic smile. “I understand why you would be upset. But we needed to speak to you without making a scene. And Claude was otherwise detained.”
“I was checking on the capture of a rogue witch—one your son is well-acquainted with. You could have given me more than fifteen minutes to return your phone call,” Claude growled.
“I’m afraid time was of the essence.”
“Could’ve…asked.” Forming words was still a challenge. Like I’d been tossed in a deep freeze and was trying to thaw my muscles. Thankfully minus the cold.
The room revealed by my sitting position wasn’t much better than the smell. The couch I sat on was old and frayed, and a stack of beer bottles sat on the coffee table next to a full ashtray. It looked—and smelled—like a bachelor pad of a college-aged boy who’d decided to party his early twenties away instead of actually going to college.
“You’ll understand if I didn’t think you’d be likely to trust me, considering my presence in your visions,” Luc said, and the man behind him who stood in the shadows shifted almost imperceptibly. Only two of them, then—Luc and the driver? Fewer than I would have guessed if he was looking for a fight.
Luc’s words sank in, and my gaze shot to Claude. Sure enough, he glanced down. Guilt covered his expression.
“You told him? My great big secret I only just confided in you? How long did you wait, Claude? Did you call him last night, or did you wait to slither out of bed this morning to do it?” Betrayed. By Claude. I couldn’t even grasp the emotions washing through me. Anger and fear and such an overwhelming sadness that I had to choke down tears.
Overrunning it all was exhaustion.
Why the hell had I crawled out of my comfortable bed, my safe life, to help this man? To crack open my past that would have been just fine staying where it was. In the past.
“I’m giving him a chance to explain. He’s an honorable man.” Claude turned to Luc, his brows pinched in annoyance. “I didn’t think he’d spell you and bring you here. And I’m still not clear why we’re meeting in this place.”
“It’s a good thing he trusted me, Miss Davis.”
“Agent Davis.” I faced Luc and the rage started to win. “A good thing? I saw your face, Luc. I know you were there when my brother was killed.”
Forcing myself to my feet, I struggled for balance. I couldn’t face this man sitting down.
“I’ve seen your face in my nightmares, Magister.” I spit his title with as much venom as I could manage. “You’ve haunted my nights since I was ten.”
A muscle in Luc’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t otherwise show any outward emotion.
“Listen to him, mon chou.”
I whirled on Claude, catching myself with the corner of the couch’s armrest before I could topple over and ruin any chance I had of being taken seriously. “Don’t call me that. You just lost that right.”
Claude flinched as if I’d hit him with my fist instead of my words. “Please. Just listen.”
Guilt hit me at his words, his pained expression. He’d done what he thought was right. Was his decision so much different than my own when I’d decided to get the police department involved? Not really. Biggest difference was, I hadn’t had the chance to betray his secret.
“I know that the last thing you want to hear is the sound of my voice, Agent Davis, so I’ll be quick. I was there when your brother disappeared. But I didn’t kill him.”
I narrowed my eyes at the vampire. “Bullshit. Visions are related to emotion. He would have seen you as the most important thing in the room for your face to imprint onto his clothing. And it would have had to have been during a heck of a traumatic event.”
“I might have been the most important thing to him in that moment. But it’s not because I killed him.” Luc’s eyes revealed an iron will, and I could see why he’d ruled his small part of the world for so long. But I was beyond fear of this vampire. I’d lived my life afraid of him, of what he represented, even when I’d just thought him a nightmare. I was done being afraid.
“Oh, really. Then why the hell would your face be the first thing I saw?”
“It’s because I saved his life. Your brother, Agent Davis, is not dead.”
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re a liar.” If the Magister had physically punched me in the gut, I didn’t think it would have hurt as much as the twisting pain that struck me with his words.
I started to turn to look at Claude, but movement behind the Magister drew my eyes back. The man who had been hovering behind the Magister stepped out of the shadows, and all the air left the room.
The fine line of his jaw was the same, as was the carrot-colored hair and pale skin. His hair hadn’t darkened into a true red like mine; it had stayed lighter. But he looked smaller somehow. The young man I remembered had always seemed so large.
But then, he would have seemed so to a ten-year-old.
The young man in front of me, tentative smile on his face, was of average height and slight build. And more important, he was a young man.
My brother had been nine years my senior when he disappeared. I had been ten. The man in front of me hadn’t aged a day since—he looked every bit nineteen years old.
“Vampire.” My voice was barely perceptible to my ears, but vampires had great hearing. Mind reeling, I couldn’t for the life of me get it to stop. Couldn’t come up with a single thought other than that word.
“Your brother was injured that night. Gravely. I saved his life and made him a vampire—against vampire law, I should point out. I’ve had to pay dearly for it, but I’d do it again. No doubt that was a powerful enough event to imprint his coat.”
Something about that wasn’t right, but I couldn’t grasp it. But Claude wasn’t as affected.
“A grave injury cured by a vampire turning? Sounds like he was bitten. Another mistake of Nicolas’s?”
I couldn’t for the life of me tear my gaze from my brother Eddie’s face to look at Claude, but I could hear the growl in his voice. The anger.
“Is there ever going to come a time when you realize his harmless mistakes are anything but?” Claude asked.
Luc smiled bitterly, and the vampire behind him—my brother—shifted on his feet. “As you can see, your brother is alive and well. We’re in his house, in fact. He is not being held prisoner, nor is he being coerced.”
I could see that, but that created more questions in my mind than it answered.
“Why didn’t—” I shook my head, and it was as if pieces of a puzzle settled, each fitting into its rightful place. Anger settled into my chest, smothering any affection. I glared at my brother, hard. If looks could have killed, he would have dropped right then and there. “You just took off for a new life and left the old one because you didn’t give a shit, didn’t you?”
I wanted him to argue the fact. I wanted him to say he was coerced or had amnesia or was locked in a dungeon. I wanted him to tell me that my memory was faulty, that he hadn’t been as unhappy with his lot in life as I remembered. That he hadn’t constantly argued with our parents. That he hadn’t just left without a word.
But he just shrugged. “I gave a shit. Hell, I missed you, Bea. But you know how they were to me.”
His words sounded hollow, and the whiny, self-entitled tone I’d heard from my teenage brother was still there in this pseudo-man. He’d missed me the way he might miss a favorite record. Not like he should have missed a family member. Had being made a perpetual teenager kept his attitudes the same as the truculent kid he’d been back then, or would he never have grown up, even if he’d been given the chance?
“Since your brother is quite alive, I beseech you both to let go of this needless investigation into my family.”
That would be so much easier. And in fact, I ached to leave this whole mess behind me. Leave Eddie behind me. Leave all these damn vampires to their business. Even Claude. Especially Claude. To go and find a life that didn’t involve vampires of any sort. To pretend my brother
died that night—or hell, maybe reach out to him to figure out if he might potentially grow into a good man.
But Claude—Claude had worked to bring Nic to justice for years. Maybe decades. Probably longer than I’d been alive.
And despite the fact that he had blabbed my secret to a man I considered an enemy, I realized that I loved the misguided vampire. Enough to put myself on the line to help him bring his obsession to a close.
“Blood isn’t everything. A man as old as you should know that. Your son deserves to rot in prison—or worse. And as far as I’m concerned, you do, too. Go fuck yourself,” I told Luc. I nodded to my brother—how little he deserved that title. “And you can go fuck yourself, too.”
Luc, resignation in his posture, turned to Claude, who said, “I’m with her. He has to be stopped, Luc. I know that you don’t want to believe him truly evil. I know you want to attribute his actions to simple rash decisions—to emotional outbursts. But he will continue to hurt people. And I just can’t allow it. Not any longer.”
As if a light switch had been clicked, Luc suddenly looked every bit the ancient vampire—the old man—that he was. His perfect skin didn’t wrinkle, neither did his hairline recede or his muscles fade. But he looked exhausted, and resigned. He nodded slowly, as if the gesture pained him. “Nicolas warned me that you would not bend on this. I’d hoped that I could convince you.”
“Nicolas knows of this?”
“I didn’t tell him I was coming here, talking to you and the agent, if that’s what you’re asking.” I half expected Luc to attack, but he simply stood a moment.
“You’ve been helping him.” Claude’s voice lost all of its anger. He sounded let down. “You were there when he used the brand to mark that selkie. Just as you were there when Beatrice’s brother was almost killed.”
Becoming the topic of conversation didn’t agree with my brother. He fidgeted when Claude’s gaze slid to him, and glanced nervously at the front door behind me as if he wanted to run away.
“Of course I was there,” Luc said. “I am present for all of my son’s sins. I clean them up. I punish him. And I pray that they will not be repeated. But I am never without sorrow. Never without regret.”
Vampire Games (Entangled Ever After) Page 11
