The objective is in good health but the way forward is obscure.
I scowled at the message. What the hell was that supposed to mean? It was like my dad was channeling his inner Yoda.
But I gathered that Zaq was alive and unharmed, which meant Father had discovered where he was being held. For once I was grateful for my inhuman, cold-as-ice father. If anyone could rescue my middle brother, it was him.
Still, I wanted more information. I was about to text him back when I received a second message.
Do not attempt contact.
I growled but obeyed. He’d probably already destroyed the phone he’d used to contact me anyway.
I reached for my own smartphone, itching to let Rafe know the news, but he was still deep undercover in Montreal. Finagling a meeting with the Tremblay princess was going to take cleverness. But getting her to talk to him? That was going to take a king-sized dose of his famous charm. From what Rafe had said, he and Zoe had struck sparks off each other the size of Mount Vesuvius. Then things had gone bad. Very bad.
Zoe Tremblay had a rep for being as coolly vicious as her mom. He’d be lucky if she didn’t turn him over to Victorine herself.
That left my mom. With Father away, she’d be keeping a human’s hours, but it was almost dawn, and I’d promised to contact her as soon as I had any news about Zaq, day or night.
She answered on the second ring. “Gabriel? You have news?”
“Yeah. Father’s making progress.” I was careful not to say too much, both for security purposes and because it was an unspoken rule in our family that Mom was kept out of Syndicate business.
“Thank the good Lord. Is he—coming home soon?”
I heard the hesitation. What she really wanted to ask was, Are they coming home soon?
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Still, that’s good news—that he’s making progress. What about you? You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. You know Tomas. I can’t take a piss without a bodyguard trying to hold my you-know-what.”
She chuckled. “Poor baby. I feel like I’m on house arrest myself. Lord forbid I try to leave the grounds. I’m like a mother duck with a posse of hard-ass, scowling ducklings. Your father’s orders, bless his heart. I understand, but...”
“I’m sorry,” I said, although on Mom’s safety, my dad and I were in complete agreement. “It’s only until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Don’t worry. I just put my nose in the air and act like a movie star.”
My mouth twitched. I could just see my beautiful, dark-haired mom—who was as down-home as they get—sashaying about like a bored Hollywood A-lister.
Toeing off my shoes, I leaned back in my chair and propped my feet on the sleek black desk. “I’ll send you a pair of sunglasses.”
“Cat’s eye,” she returned without missing a beat. “With rhinestones. Big, glittery rhinestones.”
I grinned. Knowing my mom, she’d wear them, too. “You got it.”
“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
I took my phone from my ear and stared at it. The woman was a witch. “It’s not what you think. Everybody’s fine. I promise.”
“Then what is it?”
I hesitated. Mom wouldn’t be pleased to know Mila was back.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t liked Mila. It’s that she knew as well as me that my father would never accept anyone but a vampire as my mate. I’d hidden Mila from my parents for as long as I could, although I’m sure my father’s spies had informed him I was banging a human. Father wouldn’t have cared if I’d kept Mila as a thrall.
But once I’d decided to offer Mila the blood bond and take her as my mate, I’d brought her home to meet the family.
It hadn’t gone well.
Father had been barely civil to Mila, and after she’d left, he’d called me into his study to chew me out. “You know better than this, Gabriel,” he’d said coldly. “You’re the crown prince. It’s your duty to mate with a vampire, to keep our line strong.”
My fingernails had dug into my palms. I’d been within a hairsbreadth of planting a fist in the center of his lean, tight-lipped face. “You didn’t.”
“You dare?” he’d hissed.
“To tell the truth straight to your face? Hell, yeah.”
His ebony eyes flashed blue, but I glared back. I was damned if I’d back down.
“That was different,” he said. “I’m a vampire. I knew my blood would breed strong sons.”
I drew a slow, shocked breath. A kick to the gut couldn’t have hurt any more. “And my blood wouldn’t?”
A wave of a long-fingered hand. “You’re not a vampire.”
My jaw hardened. “That doesn’t make me weak.”
My fangs had lengthened. If my mother hadn’t entered the study at that point, I think I would’ve either attacked my father, or walked out and never returned.
“Gabriel?” Mom asked now. “What aren’t you telling me?”
I expelled a breath. “It’s Mila. She’s back.”
“What do you mean, she’s back?”
“I mean she’s here. With me. Not in this room, but—with me.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Gods, I sounded lame even to myself.
“I see.” A pause. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Hell, no. “Yeah. If you mean do I trust her, no, I’m not sure. But I’m being careful.”
“Just where is ‘here’?”
“The beach house. I figured it was the most secure place for us both while I figure out why she’s come back after all this time.”
“I see.”
I winced. That made two I sees in a row. “I know you didn’t want me to mate with her. But this is different.”
She sighed. “It’s not that I didn’t want you to mate with her. It’s that I don’t want your kids to go through what you and your brothers did.”
I straightened up. My feet hit the floor with a thud. “What d’you mean?”
“You think I didn’t know how the vampire spawn bullied you? I hated it.” Her swallow was audible. “Just hated it. But your father refused to let me interfere. He said if we did, they’d never have any respect for you. That the only way you could survive in his world was to be tougher than them.”
My nape tightened in memory. Zaq, Rafe and me had had targets painted on our backs from day one. The worst had been the coven gatherings, where the other spawn picked on us unmercifully until we were big and strong enough to fight back.
“Jesus. He’s even more of a prick than I thought.”
“Careful.” Mom’s voice hardened. “That’s my mate you’re talking about.”
I scowled. I was damned if I’d apologize, but my quarrel wasn’t with my mom. “Look, don’t worry. I’ve got things under control.”
She inhaled. I could almost see her rubbing her forehead like she did when she was worried or upset. “You sound just like your father. He won’t like this, you know.”
“I’ll handle him. Mila’s here, and she’s staying until I figure out what the hell’s going on. She accepted my blood bond.”
“I see.” This time the pause was so long I thought she’d ended the connection.
“Mom?”
She heaved a breath. “Just promise me you’ll give her a choice. A thrall contract is one thing. Mating with a vampire—or a dhampir—is something else. And will you be happy with a human mate?”
I glowered, unseeingly, at the wall. “Who said I still want her as my mate? She’s my thrall. The blood bond just means my contract with her is exclusive. She’s a source of fresh blood, and that’s all. End of story.”
Okay, maybe the fresh blood came with hot, mind-blowing sex, but I was not going there with my own mother.
“Oh, cher,” Mom replied in a men-are-clueless tone, and changed the subject.
We talked another few minutes, then I said goodbye and opened my laptop again. The first thing I did was order a half-dozen rhinesto
ne sunglasses sent to Mom in Maryland. Next I ordered clothes and shoes for Mila, having gotten her sizes from Lougenia before she went to bed. The last thing I bought was a gold chain blood-bond bracelet from the Syndicate’s own jeweler.
By then, dawn had reached its glowing fingers through the blinds. I closed them and rubbed my tired eyes.
Mom was right. Father was going to be pissed off—no, furious. All the effort I’d put in to prove I was a worthy heir might go right down the drain.
My jaw set. I’d figure it out. Somehow.
Because I wasn’t giving Mila up.
I turned to leave, then sat back down at my desk. I couldn’t sleep without assuring myself Mila was still there, even though there was no way she could’ve gotten past the vampires prowling the grounds, not to mention my Czechoslovakian wolfdogs, an intelligent, loyal, and menacing mix of German Shepherd and Carpathian grey wolf.
I brought up the house security system on my laptop. A couple of taps and I could see Mila, curled up in the center of the big bed, her dark hair spread out on the white pillow, the sheet pulled up to her chin. The bed dwarfed her, making her look more like a waif than ever.
She muttered something in her sleep, shook her head. Her breath quickened, and the mutter changed to a whimper.
“No, no, nonono…”
My chest tightened. I wanted to go to her, take her in my arms and comfort her. But I remained where I was, afraid it might be me who haunted her dreams.
“Promise me you’ll give her a choice.”
I scraped a hand down my face. The hell with that. Three years ago, I’d given Mila a choice, and look where it got me.
This time, it was different. She’d come to me, accepted the blood bond. Sworn she knew what it meant.
That didn’t make her my mate. The mate bond was a unique, soul-to-soul link, while the blood bond was basically a thrall contract, even though it was an exclusive and unbreakable one.
No, the blood bond didn’t make Mila my mate. But it did make her mine.
I blew out my breath. Because it wasn’t that easy, and I knew it. The woman was so thick with secrets, I could practically see them, a sticky web entangling her.
She sighed and stopped moving. I waited until I was sure she was okay, then closed my laptop.
I’d asked her why she’d left, and she’d refused to answer. But that had been my heart—and my hurt pride—talking, not my head.
Because the more important question was, why had she come back?
11
Mila
I woke to sunlight pouring through the bedroom doorway from the living room. I automatically reached for my phone to check the time, then remembered I didn’t have one.
I looked around for a clock. But the bedroom, while comfortable, was furnished with just the basics: a nightstand, a lamp, a tall dresser, a single chair. It was more like an upscale hotel room than a residence. Even the painting over the bed was pretty but impersonal: a beach scene with a lone white Adirondack chair shaded by a striped umbrella.
I made a pit stop to wash up, then pulled on a fluffy blue bathrobe to explore.
In the living room, I got my first view of the Atlantic. My breath caught. The house projected out over the cliff. Outside was nothing but blue sky and the ocean far below, an intense turquoise that shaded to indigo farther out. It crashed against the rocks, wild and free.
I set my palms on the window and pressed my nose to the glass, drinking it in.
Gabriel knew I loved the ocean. It was like he’d bought this house with me in mind.
Yeah, right. I gave myself a shake and turned away.
Still no clock, but a knock on the door told me someone knew I was awake. “Your clothes are here, miss.”
A click and an electronic beep, and the door swung open. A golden-haired woman waited on the other side, dressed in the same black uniform—slim black pants, button-up shirt embellished with a snarling silver wolf—as the rest of Gabriel’s security force. Not a vampire, though; they’d be asleep now.
She wasn’t any friendlier than the vampires, though. She gazed at me, unsmiling, over the stack of boxes in her arms. “Where do you want them?”
I reached out. “I’ll take them.”
“As you wish.” She dumped them into my arms and bent to pick up another pile.
“Wait,” I blurted, juggling the boxes. “These…they’re all for me?”
Scorn flickered over her fine-boned features. “Of course.” She stacked five shoeboxes inside the living room next to the door.
“Thank you,” I said, and got a stiff nod in return.
She dropped several intriguing bags next to the shoeboxes and straightened. “When you’re ready, Lougenia said to tell you brunch is in the dining room. Your door will be unlocked during the day.”
She pulled the door closed with a decisive click.
“Well, screw you, too,” I muttered, then forgot her to take in my loot.
Color me shallow, but I love presents, and I hadn’t had a gift in three years. No Christmas gifts. No birthday gifts. Hell, I hadn’t even been using my own birth date. Not that I’d let anyone get close enough to learn it anyway.
I set my own packages down with the rest and knelt, not opening anything at first, just shaking the boxes one-by-one and examining the labels before turning to the bags. I didn’t recognize a single store name, but I could tell they were from trendy little boutiques that don’t bother with price tags. Because if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.
I wasn’t surprised Lougenia had gotten everything delivered so fast. The Syndicate probably owned half the shops, and if they didn’t, the owners would have fallen all over themselves to do Gabriel Kral a favor.
Scooping up an armful of packages, I took them to the bedroom and sat on the bed to open them.
Lougenia—or someone—sure had good taste. One box was filled with cute little shorts, and another held a dozen pretty T-shirts and tanks in a rainbow of colors. I also found button-up shirts, dress pants, yoga pants, two hoodies and four swimsuits ranging from a bright yellow one-piece to a tiny red bikini. There were even a couple of sleepshirts.
My next trip yielded several flirty summer dresses that I could actually see myself wearing, and the shoes, all five pairs of them: running shoes, sandals, flip-flops, and two pairs of high heels.
The last bags held sexy bras, panties and nighties so sheer they’d make a porn star blush.
“In your dreams, Kral,” I muttered as I dug around until I found a few exercise bras as well. But I couldn’t help fingering the slinky red mesh romper with the crotchless panties and picturing how Gabriel’s eyes would heat if I wore it for him.
My stomach growled, reminding me that I’d missed breakfast. In fact, from the height of the sun, it was closer to lunchtime. I pulled on shorts and a roomy orange button-up shirt with big blue flowers, then shoved my feet into the flip flops.
My hair was in wild tangles around my face. I brushed it and pulled it back into a ponytail, securing it with an elastic band I found in the bathroom.
The hall was empty except for another guard, this one a lean feline of a man with close-cut brown curls. Like the golden-haired woman, I couldn’t tell if he was dhampir or human, but at least his smile was genuine.
“Good morning, miss. I’m here to take you to the kitchen.”
He turned to go, but I said, “Wait. Is Gabriel up?”
“Not yet.”
I glanced at Gabriel’s door. “What time is it, anyway?”
“A little after eleven.”
I blinked. I hadn’t slept that late in years.
“What time does he usually get up?”
“I couldn’t say, miss. But if there’s something I can help you with, let me know.”
“No. I’m fine.” Just itchy to see Gabriel.
“Then if you’ll come with me?”
I followed him back to the foyer and through a door down to the lower level, where I found Lougenia bustling around
the kitchen. Like the rest of the beach house, the kitchen was comfortable, almost casual. Somehow I’d figured all vampires lived in Gothic manors complete with heavy velvet curtains, antique furniture and flickering iron sconces. Black Oak Manor had been kind of like that.
But the kitchen and the adjoining dining room were clean, airy spaces with off-white cabinets, maple floors and sea-colored walls.
“There you are.” Lougenia gave me an easy smile. “You must be starving. Here.” She handed me a glass of orange juice. “I have brunch ready for you.”
She led the way into the light-filled dining room. My guard faded back into a shadowy corner. Maybe he was a vampire after all, although the windows had a bluish-green tint to protect sensitive skin.
“I wasn’t sure what you like.” Lougenia gestured at a large maple table heaped with enough food for a family of four.
My stomach growled. “I’m not picky.”
I sipped my orange juice and grinned at Lougenia. “Oh, that’s good. You must’ve squeezed it fresh.”
“Sure did,” she returned, pleased. She nodded at the nearest chair. “Sit yourself down, then. I’ll bring you another glass.”
“Thanks,” I said as I took my seat. “And may I have some coffee, please?”
“Coming right up.”
I ate some of almost everything: eggs, bacon, home fries, and a Belgian waffle topped with blueberries. I considered the pancakes but decided I’d had enough, although I couldn’t resist the fresh cantaloupe.
When I was finished, I carried my plate and silverware into the kitchen, but Lougenia snatched them out of my hands. “That’s my job,” she scolded.
I lifted my shoulders in apology. “I’m not used to having someone wait on me, and besides, I wanted to tell you how good everything was.”
A smile lit her broad face. “Tomorrow I’ll make my mama’s famous shrimp étouffée and grits.”
I grinned back. “Bring it on.”
Leaving the housekeeper to her work, I carried my coffee mug to the balcony outside the dining room. The wind tore at my hair and clothes, and far below, the surf threw itself against the rocks.
Pursued: A Vampire Syndicate Paranormal Romance (The Vampire Syndicate Book 1) Page 7
