Midnight Sun

by Lyons, Rene

  As the Guardian, he couldn’t stray too far from Seacrest or stay away too long. Not when all of their souls depended on him to fullfil his duty and guard the relic he was chosen to protect.

  In the face of Tristan’s vehement frustration, Lucian sank down on a chair and dropped his head in his hands. His long, dark brown hair fell forward, curtaining him as he fought back his anger.

  Shaking off Tristan’s hold, he turned on him with fangs bared. “You didn’t see those girls, Tristan. You didn’t see what they did to them. You didn’t feel the emptiness of the absence of their souls.” He lifted his head and rubbed his hands over his eyes, trying to dispel what he saw. “Jesus Christ, I can still see the vacant look in their eyes.”

  “Easy, Luc.”

  Lucian stood, feeling the night crawl over him, hand instinctively curling around the hilt of the ever-present sword at his hip. He cut Tristan with a blazing gaze filled with retribution. “When I find who’s responsible for this, I won’t leave enough pieces of them for the sun to burn.”

  “Like I said, we’ll find them and set free the women’s souls. You’ll have your vengeance for their lives. We all will.”

  God pity the monster once the Knight found him, for no Templar would.

  Chapter Eleven

  Five long and lonely days passed since that night at The Gate. Five seemingly endless days since Allie last saw Sebastian and all she could think about was how much she missed him.

  Unfortunately they’d all been busy with their own tasks as they desperately tried to narrow the search for the Daystar while turning Damascus upside down in a mad dash to find Amanda Driver. It kept Allie and Sebastian from finding time to meet during the night.

  The upside to the situation was she got to spend the days with her sister. Having Lex around gave her such a sense of peace she wondered how she’d get through a day once she returned to Florida—if she returned, that is.

  Though she hadn’t seen Sebastian in nearly a week, they talked by phone every night. Right before dawn he’d call her, drowsy as the new day robbed him of strength and consciousness. He wanted her voice to be the last he heard before he slipped into death-like sleep. Allie stayed awake until he called, before collapsing into bed to catch a few hours sleep before she had to wake and begin her search for the Daystar all over again.

  All her hours spent searching the Internet, hunting down ancient texts, pouring through tomes, produced the only new fact thus far, that the Daystar was Druid in origin. Besides that, she found no other information.

  The Daystar was buried so deep in history it was like trying to find the proverbial needle in a haystack.

  Much of her research brought her back to the Order of the Knights Templar. Their own history was steeped in mystery, which left them open to crossing paths with other avenues of history, the Daystar being one of them.

  With so many questions swirling in her head about the Order, it nearly killed her not to ask. First and foremost she burned to know if the Knights Templar truly possessed the Holy Grail. Next was the Arc of the Covenant and King Solomon’s gold, which would explain away where all their wealth came from, a strange thing given the monks all took a vow of poverty.

  Basically, the Templar vampires could, in one conversation, end centuries of historical debate.

  Unfortunately, even with all of their knowledge, none of them knew jack-shit about the Daystar.

  Long hours were spent scouring the Internet trying to find where the legend of the Daystar began. She hoped if she learned that, she’d eventually travel down a path which would lead to the object itself.

  Since time was against them, she doubted she’d find out enough to save Amanda’s life. That was left to the Templars, who went out each night trying to find her. They left no stone unturned, no abandoned structure unexplored. Still, they found nothing, as if the poor girl simply vanished into thin air.

  Lying on her stomach, arm hanging off the bed, Allie cracked open one bloodshot and bleary eye. It took a second for her to focus on the clock but when she did, she groaned long and loud. As usual she’d slept the morning away, which meant she’d have to skip eating and rush around like a maniac to get to the Miller’s bed and breakfast.

  The B&B was in Galilee, which was the next town over from Damascus. Still, she couldn’t be late, so she’d have to hurry to get there by four.

  If the stereo blasting down in the living room was any indication, Lex was awake already. With Lex in tow, she’d be glad for the extra pair of hands. Working alone, it was hell dragging in and setting up all her equipment, which was why she usually only used the hand-helds. Lord knew half the stuff she’d spent a small fortune on she couldn’t even lift.

  After the Millers, Allie had one more appointment scheduled for the day. One with a sad, lost, and lonely old lady whose mind, hopefully, was fully functioning when Allie got there…

  *

  Once the sun dipped bellow the high Appalachian Mountain range, Sebastian woke feeling no better for having slept the day away. If anything, he felt worse than last night.

  He spent the days tossing and turning restlessly, the dreamless death-like sleep evading him. When he did manage to slip into unconsciousness, he still wasn’t given a reprieve from the hurt on Allie’s face. His sleep was haunted by tear-filled emerald green eyes that reflected the betrayal infecting her heart.

  Rolling onto his back, Sebastian let out a low groan, every bone in his body aching. His head pounded as if someone was banging on his brain with a hammer, always a wonderful feeling, he thought grumpily. Lightheaded and weak, if he weren’t already dead he’d swear he was on his way to the grave.

  The condition he was in now was exactly how he felt after a particularly long and brutal battle back in his living days. Sore as hell, bone-weary, and miserable. Only difference was, back then he enjoyed the feeling since it meant he survived another battle with all his body parts intact—for the most part anyway. He didn’t count the gaping wounds Tristan or Lucian had to sew closed to save his sorry hide from bleeding to death. He didn’t dare let Constantine or Raphael anywhere near him with a needle. He’d rather do battle with a Saracen than have either of them stitch him.

  As much as Sebastian enjoyed the modern conveniences of this age, he didn’t belong here. This wasn’t the world he was meant for. None of the Templars were. They came from a time when a man’s hand was made for a sword. When battle meant having to look into your enemy’s eyes before you killed him. A brutal time filled with violent men and, it was a world he’d always belong in.

  He missed the feel of good horseflesh and the quiet that came from the lack of machinery, which was so much a part of the modern day-to-day living. The land had a newness to it back then, when the earth was still largely untouched by the hand of man.

  Born into a long line of warriors, he was trained from birth to hold a sword. He could sit a horse before he learned to walk. He was as out of place in this cushioned era as a modern man would be in his. Hell, half the men born today wouldn’t last a day in his time.

  It felt like only yesterday when his father took away his wooden training sword and gave him his first real blade. The pride that pumped through his young body was something he’d never forget.

  On that day, he’d gone from child to man in the span of one breath to the next. From that moment on, he trained every day, year after year, injured, broken, and sick near to death—none of it mattered. Nothing would keep him from knowing a single day without the feel of his sword in his hand.

  For years he pushed his body past almost inhuman limits for the chance to face off against his sire and know the son surpassed the father. It was what he trained for, what he bled for, and on the day he bested his father on the lists, Sebastian knew true glory.

  That same night he left Rydon Castle to follow Tristan on Crusade.

  Only sixteen when they went off to fight for God halfway across the world, in today’s time it was unthinkable. Neither boy could resist when Guy Sinclair
, a charismatic young lord, passed through their lands in search of able bodies to join his army. They’d relinquished all they’d had, willing to sacrifice even their own lives, to travel to the Holy Land in search of glory.

  To this day, he never returned to Rydon Castle.

  The trek to the Holy Land was one Sebastian would never—could never—forget.

  They traveled for six grueling months to reach a place so hot and dry, Tristan often joked Guy was leading them right into Hell. In retrospect, Tristan hadn’t been off the mark about that.

  Hell was exactly what they found.

  The things he’d been forced to do while serving in the Order haunted him to this night. The blood he’d shed, both guilty and innocent alike, still stained his hands. When he closed his eyes he saw the mutilated bodies of those he’d killed in the name of God—even long after he stopped believing in the Lord.

  Their damnation came with few restrictions, unlike when they’d been in the Order. There were times the lack of sex damn near drove him mad. Thankfully, abstinence wasn’t among their current precincts. Forcing his body to move, Sebastian dragged himself out of bed. He flinched as the pain shot through him. Jesus Christ, he wanted to kick himself right in the ass for putting himself through this torture. One quick feed and the pain would go and he’d be back to his full strength.

  Sad green eyes kept him from it.

  His body needed the blood of more than just the small and sickly animals he’d been feeding from these past nights. He needed strong blood. Human blood. Nothing less would ease the pain and fully sate his hunger.

  Feeding from animals left him weak and vulnerable, which was a dangerous state given the threat all around them.

  It forced him to feed more often. Every night, actually, and still it wasn’t enough.

  Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to feed from a human. No matter how much his body needed it, he couldn’t imagine touching any woman but Allie. The thought made his skin crawl with revulsion.

  He missed her.

  She was doing everything within her power to find the origins and location of the Daystar. Her perseverance was impressive. The woman was relentless.

  The Templars, meanwhile, went out every night in search of the renegades responsible for the murders of those women. So far, they found nothing, which meant tonight was one more night Sebastian would have to go off and feed to have enough energy to go with the others on the hunt.

  Heading into the bathroom, Sebastian took a hot shower, standing under the blistering water long enough to almost chase away the cold.

  Almost.

  Until God gifted him his soul back, the cold was part and parcel with the whole damnation thing. Only human blood had the power to ease it, and then only for a short time.

  In the middle of getting dressed, Sebastian felt Allie as keenly as if she were right beside him. He didn’t bother to question the elation her presence filled him with.

  A moment later he heard the doorbell ring. He felt the anticipation surge through Allie as she waited none-too patiently for someone to let her in. He was about to go and do exactly that when he heard Raphael’s door open and bang shut. He stomped down the stairs, muttering about needing more sleep as he went.

  Like the storm she was, Allie blew into Randall Manor. “Hey, Red.” Raphael sounded shot to hell with exhaustion. “You’re a welcome sight to wake to.”

  In her excitement, Allie pushed right past Raphael. She didn’t even catch his complement. “Do you want to know how Paul Buckman died?”

  Raphael, still groggy, rubbed the sleep from his eyes. She tried to ignore that he wore only dark gray sweat pants, the rest of his body on display in all its medieval muscular glory. Thank God her affections lay elsewhere or else Allie would be a goner.

  Her gaze went directly to the puckered scar over his heart. She tried not to stare at the spot where Michael pierced him and took his soul.

  All of the Templars bore the scar, same as they shared the identical brand on the top of their right hand.

  “Who the hell is Paul Buckman?” His voice was still gravelly from sleep.

  “Alice Buckman’s husband.” Seeing he was still clueless, she added, “Alice as in Grandma Buckman.”

  His brows shot up in surprise. “Kenny’s grandmother?”

  She brushed past him, striding through the house. “You know another Grandma Buckman?”

  Passing the stairs, Allie couldn’t help but give a quick glance up them, wondering if Sebastian was awake yet or not.

  God, how she missed him. If she possessed half the mettle she pretended to have, she’d march right into his room and lay claim to him once and for all.

  The awful truth was, when it came to Sebastian, Allie was all bark and no bite. Drop her in a haunted house at midnight and she’d be fine, thank you very much. Put her alone in a room with Sebastian and she was awkward and unsure.

  Storming into the kitchen, Allie flipped on the dim overhead and dropped down on a chair at the small, round breakfast table. “I paid Grandma Buckman a visit today. Can you guess what I found out?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  Raphael sat on the chair across from her. He ran a hand over his face, looking like she did when she was in need of a strong cup of coffee.

  She leaned in close, as if she were about to reveal the secrets of the universe to him. “Her husband was killed by vampires. They came for a scroll he bought at an antique shop a year prior to his murder.”

  “Let me guess. This would be the same scroll that piece of parchment came from?”

  Surprised to hear Sebastian’s voice, Allie darted her gaze to the doorway. All the breath left her lungs when she saw how gorgeous he looked. Tired, but gorgeous.

  A black button down hung open to reveal a smooth expanse of pale, muscular chest. Her gaze locked on the scar over his heart long enough to wish she could kiss it away.

  The snug blue jeans encasing those massive tree-trunk legs rode low on trim hips. Following the length of those jeans down, she saw he was barefoot. Normally Allie couldn’t stand feet, but seeing Sebastian’s, she wasn’t at all surprised to see even his feet were nice.

  As she drew her gaze back up, she couldn’t help but notice the bulge of his groin. The man was certainly blessed, she thought wickedly, remembering the feel of him when he’d ground his body into hers.

  When she dragged her eyes back to his face, she nearly died of mortification at his knowing grin. Leaning back, Allie did her best to maintain her composure after getting caught gawking at his crotch.

  “You bet it is. When vampires tried to take the scroll, Paul fought them. In the scuffle, the bottom corner tore away. It’s the same corner Kenny found.”

  Not a hint of reaction passed over Sebastian’s features. His expression might as well have been set in stone.

  “What else did Grandma Buckman say?”

  Forcing her hungry gaze from Sebastian, Allie looked back at Raphael to answer his question. “Nothing. As quick as her memory came, is as quick as it went. I was surprised I even got that much out of her. Do me a favor, guys. If I ever get that bad when I’m old, put me out of my misery. Don’t let me suffer like that.”

  Her saying that finally put some expression on Sebastian’s face. A flash of irritation crossed his features. “How did she know it was vampires who killed her husband?”

  “The poor woman went on and on about the demons who killed her Paul,” she explained, ignoring the way Sebastian practically barked the question out at her. “She claimed they had unholy glowing eyes and fangs. I think it’s safe to say she was talking about vampires.”

  Raphael sat back in the chair and stretched out his long legs. “So, what do we do now?”

  “Nothing. We’re back at square one,” Sebastian announced, his tone laced with frustration.

  “How so?” Allie countered. “At least we know there’s a scroll floating around out there. That’s more than we knew this morning.”

  He cocked
a brow at her. “Care to tell me where to begin looking for it?”

  Good point. “Okay, so we’re back at square one,”

  Raphael stood and slapped his hands against his thighs with a huff. “Well, I’m going to get dressed. You’ll be home tonight, right, Sage?”

  If Allie didn’t know better she would swear Sebastian threw Raphael the hairy eyeball.

  “You’re not going out with them tonight?”

  Sebastian released a long, drawn out sigh after a short, yet pregnant pause, almost as if he were resigning himself to the answer he planned on giving her. “No, I’m not.”

  “Oh.”

  After Raphael left to get dressed, Allie suddenly felt shy with Sebastian staring down at her. “I guess I’ll go,”

  She made no motion to stand. He made no motion to walk away. “How’s your sister?”

  “Good.” Allie was pleasantly surprised he remembered that her sister was in town. “She wanted to go out tonight but I told her that wouldn’t be a good idea. The last thing I need is for her to be running around unprotected.”

  “I’m sure she wasn’t happy about that.”

  “Actually, once I told her about what’s been going on, she understood.”

  “Smart girl.”

  “Yeah, well, Lex is the smart one.” She stood; ready to leave Sebastian to whatever it was he planned on doing tonight. “Out of the two of us, I got all the balls and she got all the brains. Guess that’s why I’m Crazy Allie.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Huh?” Allie was clearly bewildered.

  Sebastian stalked over to her. He leaned down close to her ear and she shivered deliciously. “The logical thing would be for you to leave, sunshine. It would take balls for you to stay here with me.”

  His hand reached out to her, the seal burned into his flesh drawing her attention. The stark reminder of his past and what he was might have frightened another woman. But not Allie. Looking back into his face, the sight of the fangs, which he made no attempt to conceal, caused her heart to race with excitement.