Evan
Book Two of the Destine Series
Laurie D'Ghent
Copyright © 2017 Laurie D'Ghent
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13:
DEDICATION
To Mimi and Amy S., for keeping their feet squarely in my back.
And to Marsidese Marin, for restoring my confidence.
Thank you.
Chapter one
Paul saw Evan grit his teeth as the car sped down the highway. The extraction team had landed nearly an hour ago. As the six men had deplaned onto the cracked tarmac, Evan had ignored them. Paul thought the men seemed cocky. They swept across the space and immediately took control of the situation, giving terse orders with no attempt at politeness.
One man spread a blueprint across the hood of the SUV that Evan and Paul had just exited. Two others immediately moved to either side of the hood and held the corners of the paper down so that the light breeze wouldn't blow it away. Slamming his finger down onto the paper, the first man began outlining the floor plan. “Only entrance is here. There is a flight of stairs immediately inside the door, leading one level below ground.” His finger moved quickly across the paper. “These rooms, here, here, and here are storage. High voltage equipment here. Bathroom here.” The man stepped away from the car and one of the others began to roll the schematics into a tube. “My men will do a complete sweep of the building. There's no need for you to be there.” It was clear from his tone that the extraction leader viewed Evan and Paul as nothing more than hindrances, children along on a job that required grown men.
Evan appeared completely unaffected by the man's orders. “We will accompany you,” he returned, his voice indifferent but firm.
Paul turned to watch the team leader's response. “Fine.” The new guy was not nearly as capable of maintaining a cool demeanor, and Paul could tell Evan was starting to get his back up. “You can wait outside the perimeter.”
Evan removed an imaginary hair from one sleeve of his suit jacket before pretending to drop it. “No, I think we'll go in with you,” he said, wrinkling his nose slightly as though deciding to contradict his opponent on a whim.
Before the team leader could respond, one of the other members of the extraction team cleared his throat and said, “We should be going, sir.”
The simple comment, spoken with the utmost respect, was enough to return the leader to his senses. With a false smile, he waved his hand toward the car. “After you, gentlemen.”
Paul watched as Evan brushed past the newcomer, carelessly bumping into the man's shoulder, and opened the passenger side door. Paul fought to keep a smile from creeping across his face. The other men piled silently into the car, and the team leader flipped a U-turn, driving faster than was really necessary. Evan calmly straightened in his seat, pushing himself away from the window with his shoulder, pretending nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Paul caught the driver watching Evan out of the corner of his eye. The guard bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to keep his face blank, amused by the childish antics displayed by his superior and the arrogant man next to him.
The driver pulled the car off the road before the building was in sight, and bumped over a faint track leading toward some low mountains. The car jerked to a stop in a small grove of white pines, and the extraction team poured from the car. Chambering rounds and taking safeties off , they kept their guns pointed at the ground and waited for a signal from their leader. With a nod of his head, the team moved out, leaving Evan and Paul behind.
The diseased-looking sage brush was surprisingly sturdy and Paul quickly learned to skirt the larger bushes rather than trying to forge through them, or even past them. After a mile or so, the team leader waved for everyone to drop lower to the ground, and the group crouched low, peering over a slight rise to the complex below them. Evan moved slower than the others, his expression that of someone out on a picnic. The area was deserted and still.
Pointing to members of his team, the leader sent half of them to the far side of the complex to scale the chain link, then led the other half to a position near the opposite side, waiting for the first team to get into position. Evan and Paul trailed behind, forgotten. It didn't seem to bother Evan, but Paul knew better that to assume Evan wore his heart on his sleeve. Evan had lived for centuries longer than Paul, time giving him the ability to hide all emotion. After a moment, the team leader waved a hand and the group moved quickly, but cautiously, forward.
The five men quickly scaled the fence, grasping the razor wire at the top as though it were made of cotton. They dropped to the other side, blood slowly oozing from the various cuts they had received. They moved forward as one, guns sweeping back and forth constantly. Evan glanced at Paul, then pulled himself up and over the fence effortlessly, a look of placid unconcern resting on his face. The extraction team backed up to the building and met the second team at the front door.
Having escaped detection so far, a member of the extraction team dropped to one knee and began picking the door lock. Within a few seconds the tumbler was tripped and the man returned to position. Evan watched as the two groups in front of him, one on either side of the door, stood in line; each man tapped the shoulder of the one in front of him, then the line leaders nodded to one another and the door was eased open.
Each man knew at this point that there was no hope of escaping detection from here on out, the building's small size providing an insurmountable barrier, so noise erupted from all directions, bouncing dully off of the cement walls, ceiling, and floor. Men clattered down the metal staircase and, in pairs, began kicking doors open and sweeping rooms automatically. Evan followed casually behind them, hands in pockets, every dark hair in place. Paul followed at a respectful distance, wishing he was as calm.
As the pair of men walked down the central hallway, they passed by rooms that were being thoroughly searched, merely glancing inside. At the end of the hallway Evan's attention was drawn to a small box, painted a dull, concrete gray, that sat at eye level to the right of the door. He walked forward, felt around the edges of the plastic, then lifted the lid on the box, revealing a keypad. The noise of rooms being torn asunder floated down the hallway toward them and Paul glanced backward, then turned his attention back to Evan. He watched Evan frown for a moment, then reach up and punch in a six-digit code. The door remained solidly closed. Almost immediately, he entered another code. A small frown crossed his face when, with a click, the door swung inward a fraction of an inch. With the tips of his fingers, Evan nudged the door slowly open.
The room looked much the same as the others they had passed, except this one was noticeably less cluttered. A quick glance showed a cot, a blanket, a pillow, and little else. Paul didn't even notice the girl until he took a further step into the room.
The small whimper, he could think of no better word, drew his attention to the corner at the foot of the cot. He saw movement in the shadows underneath. Without hesitation, Evan moved across the room and flung the cot to the side with one hand. The girl scrambled backward, then curled into a tight ball. Finally looking at Evan, she moaned and began to rock back and forth, muttering, “No, no, no,” over and over. The blood drained from her face so quickly; Paul stepped back, his worst fears realized—Ben had changed her into one of them. She was a vampire. Only the absolute terror that colored her eyes almost black gave him pause, made him reconsider.
If Paul hadn't had her image thrust before him for the past four months, ever since she had disappeared from Westmarch, he wouldn't have recognized her. Her physical appearance was barely changed, though her hair was several inches longer. Paul himself had cut her hair extremely short before the girl had
been taken from them; now, it was long enough to trail in her eyes. No, it wasn't how she looked physically that threw him; it was the way she was acting, and he could tell it wasn't for show. She had broken eye contact with Evan, never noticing Paul, and had fallen silent, placing her forehead on her knees and continuing to rock. He could hear her ragged, shallow breathing. I think she's hyperventilating.
Before Paul could decide what to do next, a member of the extraction team swept into the room, marked the girl in the corner, then rushed through the second door, to the left. After some banging, he returned to the room. “Get up!” he barked roughly at the girl.
She froze, no longer moving or, from what Paul could hear, breathing. The extraction team member moved across the room, his gun still pointed at the girl, but Paul stepped forward and blocked his path. “I've got her,” he said. The man stared at him for a moment, then exited the room, shouting his discovery down the hallway to the remainder of the team.
Evan moved forward to help Paul stand the girl up, but Paul waved him off. Crouching low, he murmured, “You need to stand up now and come with us. I'm not going to hurt you.” She stood willingly enough, though she seemed to be running on autopilot. She glanced nervously at Evan, then returned her gaze to Paul's face and allowed herself to be escorted from the room. Paul noticed how much she fidgeted, though her movements were not large. He sensed Evan following silently behind. Paul frowned, unsettled by the girl's actions, and quietly led the group of men from the building.
Once outside of the compound, one team member cut the lock and slid the gate open. The group fanned out around Paul and the girl. Paul watched as Evan meticulously buttoned his suit coat and walked leisurely toward the paved road. He seemed as though nothing worth noting had happened to him for weeks. Paul wished he could feel the same, the girl's fingernails digging into his forearm through the sleeve of his own, less fine, suit coat.
CHAPTER TWO
The tension left Evan's shoulders as the door closed behind him. He set off down the hallway as though fighting a magnetic pull, the distance making his progress easier and easier. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, sighing. What the heck was I thinking?
Even now, several hours later, Evan wanted to hit himself in the head for offering his quarters for the girl, but the feeling was infinitely worse when the king had dropped the bomb—Integrity would stay in Evan's room, but so would Evan. Even now, he could almost hear the ruler's reasoning:
“If you leave Westmarch, others will be seen entering and leaving your quarters. If you stay in another room, the same will occur. The only way the Destine will be protected is if you continue your life, at least as far as the populace will see, in an extremely normal vein.”
What could he say to that? The king's logic was flawless. The Destine was prophesied to have the power to bring the human race into slavery, a power long coveted by the undead. Evan's lips tightened, ever so slightly, as he recalled the way she never took her frightened gaze off of him, how every movement he made caused her to flinch. Evan roughly shoved a door open and exited onto the spacious lawn surrounding Westmarch Castle, the seat of vampire royalty, and the wind tugged at his trench coat. He strode purposefully toward the woods, then caught himself and forced his pace to slow.
What excuse would the king possibly accept for Evan to remove himself from the situation? After all, he was only infrequently at Westmarch. But Evan knew that was a weak excuse, one that left too many arguments open. No one could know of the girl, and Paul, one of two guards who knew the girl's true identity, could not possibly protect her by himself. That left only Evan as an alternative, unless more people were let in on the situation. Still, there had to be a way for Evan to remove himself to a more comfortable distance.
He bent, picked up a pine cone from the damp earth, and threw it against the trunk of a nearby tree, watching it's trajectory blankly. It took a lot to unsettle him. The fact that this girl was able to upset his balance left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Є
When Evan returned to his living quarters, Paul moved to leave immediately. Evan held up a hand up to stop Paul. “Where are you going?”
“I'm going for provisions, sir,” Paul answered simply. When Evan raised an eyebrow, Paul elaborated, “She has to eat.” Evan seemed to hesitate, then gestured for Paul to leave. Turning back at the door, the guard said, “She's still in the bedroom.”
Paul left the room, closing the door softly behind him, then hurried down the hallway. He knew, or at least thought, that Evan wouldn't hurt the girl, but Paul didn't know if that meant she should be left alone, either. With the drastic changes she had undergone, Evan's actions could be disastrous. He increased his pace even more, having to hold himself back from breaking into a jog.
The girl's fear of Evan had seemed to solidify as time had passed. They had only been back at Westmarch for a few hours, but her behavior had become increasingly erratic. Unsure how to help, Paul had left her in one of the bedrooms in the suite, sunk into a corner much as he had found her at the power sub-station. When he had asked if she wanted Evan to sit with her while he was gone, her reaction had been vehement, though she still did not speak.
Paul had reached the kitchen by this point and began cramming food into a bag at random. From how thin the girl was, he doubted she would be particular in what she ate. He frowned as he compared the girl she was now to the spitfire he had known only a few months before. Whatever had been done to her, it had been done thoroughly.
When Paul returned to the ornately carved wooden door that led into Evan's chambers, he knocked politely, then pushed the door open and quickly closed it behind him. Evan did not turn or acknowledge Paul's presence at all, his back ramrod straight. The guard moved cautiously toward the bedroom he had left the girl in. He could not call her by her given name, even in his mind. She had changed so much, she was no longer Integrity to him.
The girl still sat huddled in the corner, her breaths coming more quickly. Her gaze was blank and he had to crouch in front of her and speak her name before she seemed to notice his presence. “Are you okay?” When she averted her gaze from him once more, he slowly stood and grabbed the bag that he had dropped on the bed. “I brought some food. Are you hungry?” There was no response. He grabbed a sleeve of crackers and opened them. He held them out to her, asking if she wanted some. An uncomfortable amount of time passed, and he finally set them on the floor in front of her. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he told her, “I'll go get you some water. Those will make you thirsty.” He turned and walked quietly from the room, doing his best to not make any sudden movements.
In the sitting room, he walked to the small bar that was set up and proceeded to fill a glass with cold water, being careful to avoid Evan's gaze. He had learned over the months that it was best to not approach his superior when Evan was in one of his “moods.” The glass full, Paul moved with it back toward the bedroom. He heard Evan clear his throat and turned to face him. “Get her out of my room,” Evan said smoothly, then turned back to the book he held in his hands, placid as always. Paul frowned, not realizing that he had placed the girl in Evan's room. He moved the girl to the neighboring room, grateful that she was compliant. The less he had to fight with her, the better. The less he fought with Evan, even more the better. Paul really didn't need to deal with a nervous wreck and Evan's mood at the same time.
Є
It had been only two days, but Evan was at his wits' end already. The girl maintained her facade of fear and insecurity, and Paul continued to play right into her snare. He felt like he could tear through the stone wall.
It seemed that he was constantly tripping over Paul, finding things out of place. His privacy had been stripped from him completely, and he felt as though his one sure place, his sanctuary, had been defiled by a marching crowd. The constant noise of people where there should be none was enough to make his head pound. Someone would die, if things continued this way.
Only this l
evel of desperation could lead him to seek an audience with the king. He had spent the past several hours arguing with himself, only to come to the conclusion that things could not possibly get worse than they were right now. He'd just have to trust his judgement and press on—otherwise, he was certain he'd lose his sanity for good.
As he entered the conservatory, Evan automatically scanned his surroundings. Other than the normal contingent of guards, the king was alone. Evan was somewhat glad to see that the queen was absent; he knew she'd only make things more difficult than they needed to be. As Evan walked up the gravel pathway between flowers that smelled sickeningly sweet, the king waved a hand laconically and the guards melted into the background. Evan knew that they would not listen; even if they remained within range of the conversation, which was unlikely, they knew it was more than their lives were worth to eavesdrop on royalty.
Without looking at Evan, the king continued to cut flowers, seemingly at random. Allowing the flowers to drop to the ground, he asked, “What is it you have need of?” The sound of metal rasping against metal accompanied another flower's death, even as the king's mellow tones faded.
“I'm leaving Westmarch.” Evan took a slow breath.
“Oh, that can't be allowed. You know that.” Snick. Another flower fell. The king's voice was perfectly modulated, as ever.
Evan curled his toes. “Yes, but you have stressed how vital it is that regular appearances are kept up—I'm rarely at Westmarch for long.”
The king trod carelessly on a fallen rose as he moved to another plant. “You generally stay more than two days when you do materialize, you must admit.”
Evan bowed his head in agreement, then continued, “However, the populace still believes the Destine to be in a secure location outside of the castle. They also know that when the Destine was removed from Westmarch, I left, as well. Only a fool would not think I were protecting her. My leaving will only reinforce what you want them to believe.”
Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series Page 1
