Sophia

by D. B. Reynolds

  She only hoped she’d also survive whatever Lucien had waiting for her.

  * * * *

  “What do you mean, you don’t know where he is?” Sophia demanded darkly.

  “Do we need a translator? Is that the problem, Sophia? I don’t fucking know where he is, okay? He doesn’t exactly check in with me.”

  Sophia leveled a flat stare at the vampire sitting across from her. Darren Yamanaka was Lucien’s lieutenant. In name only, she thought viciously. She could squish him like a bug. She’d probably quite enjoy it, in fact. Her eyes narrowed appraisingly, but Darren met her gaze without flinching. He wasn’t as powerful as she was, but he wasn’t weak either. And he had courage. She’d give him that. What he didn’t have was even the slightest clue as to the whereabouts of their mutual Sire.

  “When did you last see him?” she asked with forced patience.

  “I’ve already told you, and no matter how many times you ask, the answer will be the same. Lucien walked out that very door eight days ago.” He pointed dramatically across the big conference room and through the open double doors to the heavy front door of Lucien’s Vancouver headquarters. “He said he was off to meet another of his women. You, of all people, should remember how fond Lucien is of his women.”

  Sophia held back the snarl rising from her throat, forcing herself to remain calm. She hadn’t flown halfway around the world, risking her long immortal life, to lose her temper with this pipsqueak of a male. Everybody knew Lucien loved women. Hell, Lucien loved men, too. But the fact that Sophia had once been his lover, and that he’d made her Vampire because he’d been unwilling to lose her to human age and frailty . . . that was not something everyone knew. Although, Darren clearly did. Lucien had been telling tales before he’d disappeared, the bastard.

  “Was he alone when he left? Not even a bodyguard?”

  “No,” Darren admitted reluctantly. “He usually took someone with him, but not this time. He claimed the woman was someone he’d known a long time, that it was safe. And that he could defend himself if it came to it. I argued with him. But . . . you know Lucien.”

  She did know Lucien. He was handsome, brilliant, utterly charming, and sometimes a complete idiot. Especially if a woman was involved.

  “Why do you think he called me?”

  “I have no fucking idea. I don’t even know if he really did. It’s awfully convenient that Lucien disappears and now you show up. How long’s it been, Sophia?”

  “Not long enough, Darren,” she said with saccharine sweetness, before her voice hardened. “But if you’re suggesting I have in any way harmed our Sire, you should say good-bye to whoever is foolish enough to care for you because I will kill you where you stand.”

  He stood, leaning across the table, his eyes gleaming yellow. “You can try, bitch.”

  Sophia felt his power pressing against her, felt her own surging to meet his. She also stood, matching his aggressive stance, and pushed back just enough for him to feel the weight of it.

  Darren’s eyes widened in surprise, and he froze for a full minute before he slowly sank back into his chair. His gaze was riveted on her, like an animal that has just discovered a predator hiding in its nest.

  Sophia smiled pleasantly and sat back down, satisfied for now. She didn’t want to kill Darren. Not if she could avoid it. What she wanted was to find Lucien and discover what the hell was going on.

  “Have you looked for him?” she asked in a mild voice.

  Darren blinked, then said, “Of course I have. We all have. He’s alive, but you know that already. It’s odd, though—”

  Sophia’s gaze sharpened. “Odd? What’s odd?”

  “Have you searched for him since you’ve been in the city?”

  She frowned, puzzled. “I haven’t, no.”

  “Try. Then tell me what you find.”

  Sophia regarded the other vampire silently. Obviously, she couldn’t trust him, but his concern for Lucien seemed real enough. And there was definitely something weird about all of this.

  “Is there somewhere secure?” she asked abruptly. A thorough search for her Sire would require a level of consciousness that was almost a meditation. She would be vulnerable to attack, especially in this house.

  Darren nodded. “I’ll show you.”

  * * * *

  Sophia waited until Darren had left, then shot the lock on the door and set her own barrier of power to secure it. She waited even longer, until the other vampire’s footsteps had faded and she could no longer sense him nearby. Then she turned to regard what was clearly Lucien’s private retreat. The sense of him was everywhere in here, and she was struck by a longing so sudden and so strong that it was a physical pain, as if her heart had stopped beating for a moment. What if the impossible had happened? What if someone had somehow taken down the powerful vampire lord who was her Sire? Was he dying even now, wasting away as she stood here squandering what little time he had left? She shook herself slightly and crossed the room, pulling open the French doors to the balcony beyond.

  Bracing herself against the cold and wind, she stepped onto a balcony high above the city. Lucien’s study was on the third floor of his manse, which was itself at the top of one of the steepest hills surrounding Vancouver. The skies were dark overhead, only the occasional star or glimpse of moon breaking the overcast. She longed for the warmth of her southern home, for the familiar pulse of life and vitality. She took in the lights twinkling down below. Although, she thought, Vancouver had a pulse of its own. Different, but no less alive.

  Her gaze scanned the horizon. She had to give it to Darren. This was the perfect location from which to search for their master. Whatever the other vampire’s feelings for her, he seemed genuine in his desire to help her find Lucien. Perhaps he loved their Sire as much as she did after all.

  Drawing a deep breath, Sophia closed her eyes and set aside her dislike of Darren, set aside the cold and the wind, the strange scents and sounds of this foreign city. From somewhere deep inside herself, she touched the invisible, unbreakable bond she shared with Lucien. He was her Sire, the vampire who had ended her life three centuries ago and given it back to her as something more, something eternal and strong and beautiful. Sophia loved being Vampire, delighted in the power it gave her, in the exquisite heightening of her senses until she could hear the soft fall of an orchid’s blossom on a dark night. Certainly she missed the feel of the sun against her face, the smell of her skin after a day at the beach. But it was a small price to pay for what she’d gained. And it was all because of Lucien who was missing and perhaps in trouble.

  She stretched out her senses, drawing on all of her considerable power, and cast a net over the city

  Hours later, she opened her eyes, exhaustion seeping through her pores, weakening every muscle in her body. She had searched through the night, had followed every trail, no matter how faint. And there were so many trails—the traces of Lucien were everywhere in this city. This had been his home, his lair for hundreds of years. If there was a single street or alley where he had not walked, she hadn’t found it. But the very pervasiveness of his scent was somehow wrong. He was alive. She was certain of that. But it was almost as if he’d intentionally spread himself thin, so thin he barely existed in his own city anymore.

  She shoved herself to her feet, shaking out legs gone almost numb from sitting in the same position for so long. Sunrise wasn’t far off. She could feel it in the sluggishness of her blood, the dullness of her nerve endings. The time shift imposed by her rapid journey from South America only made it worse. Her body was telling her the sun had already risen, while her brain knew she still had an hour or so to get someplace safe and dark. Jet lag was hell on vampires, too.

  She wondered if Darren was still about, or if she’d have to find her own lodgings somewhere in this massive house. It had been much smaller when she’d been here last, but she suspected some things hadn’t changed. Either way, it hardly mattered. She’d been providing her own safe havens for hundre
ds of years; this morning would be no different.

  She walked wearily back into Lucien’s study, just in time to hear a timid knock on the door. She eyed the closed panel speculatively. It was a vampire; she knew that much. And it certainly wasn’t Darren tapping so softly. She used power to release her personal shield and unlock the door. “Come,” she called out as she sank into one of Lucien’s chairs.

  The vampire who entered was tiny but most definitely adult, her breasts amply displayed by a tight-bodiced gown which gave lie to her childlike stature. She had to be very old, harkening back to a time and place when her diminutive height would have been the norm among women. But whatever her age, she had little or no power. Sophia wondered what it would be like to live that long as Vampire, but to be so weak that she was forever frozen on the bottom rungs of power.

  The vampire smiled gently, as if she knew what Sophia was thinking. “Lady Sophia, I am Larissa, Lord Lucien’s secretary.”

  Something about the way she said the word secretary told Sophia, she meant it in the old way, an assistant and a confidante. Sophia had never met her before, so she’d probably come from one of Lucien’s other cities sometime in the last hundred years, which was how long it had been since Sophia had been to Vancouver. But if Larissa had been close to Lucien, she just might know more about what went on with him than anyone else in the house.

  Sophia didn’t offer to shake hands. Judging by her manner and dress, Larissa would not be one of those who embraced the modern custom. “Larissa,” she said, nodding, “How can I help you?”

  Larissa again gave her that knowing smile. “You are kind, my lady, but I am here to assist you. You will want a place to rest, yes?”

  Sophia breathed a tired sigh. “I will, thank you. And is there blood in the house?”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  “Does Lucien still maintain the guest cottages? If so, is the smallest available, the one in the gardens?”

  “The fire is already lit, my lady. Lucien was well familiar with your preferences. Shall I send the blood to the cottage, then?”

  “That would be most appreciated. Thank you, Larissa.” She stood and started to turn away, but then frowned as the meaning of Larissa’s words penetrated her tired brain.

  “Wait!” she called out. “Lucien told you I was coming to Vancouver?”

  Larissa nodded. “Some weeks ago,” she replied. “He told me you would be coming, my lady, and he left something for you. Only for you, he said.”

  Sophia stared at the tiny female. It had been days since Lucien had summoned her home, not weeks. “What . . .” She swallowed hard, suddenly certain that she didn’t want to know the answer. “What did he leave for me?” she made herself ask anyway.

  Larissa crossed to a bookshelf, pulling aside several volumes to reveal a hidden wall safe. It was the older kind with a numbered dial rather than a keypad. She spun the dial several times and pulled open the door, reaching in to withdraw a fine, white envelope. Setting it on the shelf, she carefully closed the safe and replaced the books before turning to face Sophia once again and holding the envelope out to her.

  Sophia met and held the other vampire’s gaze for several minutes, searching for any sign of betrayal or malice. Finding none, she accepted the envelope, glancing down to see her name written in Lucien’s extravagant script. Judging by the weight and heft, it held several sheets of folded paper. She stared at it a moment, then asked, “Do you know what’s in here?”

  “Not all of it, but enough.”

  Sophia caught the note of sorrow in Larissa’s voice and looked up, surprised and worried—very worried—to see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Larissa?”

  “Read what’s there, Sophia,” she whispered. She backed away and turned to leave, pausing by the door to say, “If you need anything, my lady, you have only to ask. I’m here . . . in this house. Always.” She pulled open the door and was gone, leaving Sophia to fear that Lucien had gotten himself into a mess that even he could not get himself out of. She could only hope it was nothing more than that.

  Chapter Four

  North of Seattle, Washington

  The sleek, black limo glided through the sturdy gates of the new Seattle compound. They still called it that, although, in truth, it was no longer in Seattle. That city, once a haven for those seeking to get away from the crowds and congestion of places like L.A. and San Francisco, had become the very thing they’d tried to escape.

  For Raphael’s vampires, that meant their old compound, which had once been located on ten acres of isolated countryside, had found itself in the middle of a crowded suburb. It had taken some time, but his people had finally located a suitable new site in the hills some distance from Seattle. They’d bought up adjoining parcels this time, until they had a hundred acres as a hedge against future expansion. The new compound had taken nearly as long to build as it had to find the site. There were no humans Raphael would trust with such a commission, and those few vampires who were both trustworthy and sufficiently skilled were in great demand. Of course, they were also his own children, which gave him a certain priority in requesting their services, but above everything else, Raphael was a businessman. He wasn’t about to demand that any of his vampires sacrifice their businesses just to save him a bit of time. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

  The limo took the final curve of the driveway and the main building came into view from behind the trees. Wei Chen, head of the Seattle nest, emerged onto the steps along with several others, standing under the gray, concrete overhang, waiting to greet him.

  Cyn sat next to him in the limo, her long leg warm against his, their fingers laced together. She’d been extra vigilant since his nightmare, almost obsessive about his security. She was armed, as always—a .9 mm Glock in a shoulder rig beneath her jacket—but she was also wearing a second identical weapon tucked against her lower back, into the waistband of her slacks. She hadn’t even tried to hide it from him and had made clear her preference that he remain in the car until she’d checked out who and what waited for them. His woman, his very human mate, thought it appropriate to put herself in danger for his protection. As if the phalanx of vampire guards deployed around them weren’t enough, as if he wasn’t visiting one of his own nests where every vampire present was pledged to him personally . . . or as if he wasn’t fully capable of protecting himself and her, as well.

  A wisp of pain tugged at his awareness and he stared out the rain-darkened window at the new compound’s stark gray concrete and redwood construction, at the solemn faces of his assembled vampires.

  “What’s wrong?” Cyn asked abruptly.

  He turned his head to meet her gaze, her green eyes boring into his with a sure knowledge of his moods.

  “I’m not certain,” he admitted. “Something . . .” His voice trailed away as he tried to capture whatever it was that had caught his attention. But there was so much emotion among the vampires in that building—fear and grief, as well as pain at the terrible loss they’d suffered. Surely that was it, that two of their number had been wiped from the earth as if they’d never existed, their flames extinguished in seconds as their shocked cries bit into his soul. But that wasn’t it. Or that wasn’t everything. His gaze sharpened.

  “Stop,” he commanded. His driver hit the brakes, bringing the limo to a full stop before his conscious mind was aware of what he was doing. Raphael was only vaguely cognizant of the alarm spreading through the ranks of his security, of Cyn’s voice calling his name as he opened the car door and stepped out into the wet night.

  Wei Chen and the others hurried toward him, their faces creased with concern.

  “My lord.” Raphael’s lieutenant, Duncan, appeared at his side, while his Security Chief, Juro, calmly deployed various personnel to accommodate this new development. There was very little that could rattle Juro; it was why Raphael had chosen him.

  “Sire.” Wei Chen was out of breath from the dash through the rain, testimony to his lack of any kind of
routine physical activity.

  Raphael lifted his head, his gaze searching the elegant face of the building, his heart aching at the pain he felt there. “Jeremy,” he realized suddenly. He turned an inquiring gaze upon Wei Chen, his black eyes beginning to gleam silver with anger. “What’s happened, Wei Chen? Where’s Jeremy?”

  The nest leader met Raphael’s regard without flinching. “His house was attacked earlier, my lord. His mate, Mariane—”

  Raphael had stopped listening. He was already moving, heading for the main entrance, following a trail of pain that was as clear as if it were painted on the ground before him.

  Wei Chen hurried to keep up with him. “Jeremy is in the infirmary with her, Sire. He’s sharing his blood—”