Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series

by Laurie D'Ghent

  No longer dizzy, Integrity's head was officially swimming. She was feeling weaker and more nauseous by the second. Quit getting mad at him, she told herself, or you're going to barf again. “Okay, fine,” she rejoined, closing her eyes again. “Multiple personalities scratched from the list, bi-polar disordered checked.” Evan didn't respond, but she didn't care. She raised one hand to her forehead, feeling the sweat dewing there. She began debating whether she needed to make a break for the bathroom—then again, it might be more gratifying to puke on the nut case sitting next to her.

  “Are you going to vomit?” His voice pierced into her consciousness, but she ignored it. In a musing tone, he said, almost to himself, “I don't remember what it's like to vomit.”

  She wanted to tell him he wasn't missing much, but opening her mouth didn't seem like the brightest idea at the moment. She concentrated on breathing slowly through her nose, her pulse thudding uncomfortably, until the moment passed and she dared open her eyes again.

  Evan was gone.

  Є

  “It's amazing how much better I feel,” Integrity said conversationally as she helped Galia make the bed up with fresh linens. “How can you go from feeling like you want to die to being energetic so quickly?”

  Galia laughed lightly. “I'm afraid I wouldn't know.” As she bent over to pick up one of the discarded pillows, she caught a glimpse of the book. She picked it up and raised one eyebrow at Integrity. “You still have it? Have you finished it?”

  “Ugh!” Integrity groaned, dropping one of the pillows on her bed in its customary place. “I wish I'd never seen that stupid book. It's not worth what it's done to my head.”

  Galia turned the book over, gazing at it in interest.

  “You know it's not just the book that's bugging me.” Integrity flopped into the armchair next to her bed, still where Evan had left it. Suddenly serious, she asked, “Do you think I'm really safe here? He's so unpredictable, I half expect to wake up in the middle of the night with a gun to my head.”

  Galia shook the comforter out over the bed, letting it drift gently into place. She didn't answer immediately, and Integrity was glad that Galia seemed to be taking her concerns seriously. Finally, she said, “I don't think you need fear Evan harming you physically. I cannot see him losing control of himself enough to do so.”

  “Oh, that's so reassuring,” Integrity said lightly, sarcasm tracing the words. “So, you're saying that if he does lose control, he will kill me?” Galia raised one eyebrow in response, a wicked smile on her face. “You're such a puke.” Integrity laughed at her. “Good to know you can still mess with me, even over something as insignificant as my life.”

  Galia ran a hand over the already smooth cover. She kept her tone light, but she wouldn't meet Integrity's gaze. “Even if you ceased to live, you would not cease to exist. Not here.”

  Silence reigned for a moment as Galia gathered up her cleaning supplies, preparing to leave. Integrity's thoughts ran to the book, to the “change” it mentioned. Thoughts of dismemberment followed, and she hurriedly sought out a different topic. “Oh!” she exclaimed, pulling Galia up short. “I didn't tell you! You're going to love this one.” She rolled her eyes at Galia. “Guess what? Evan thinks he did me some kind of favor by killing my parents. Can you believe it? What an egocentric...” Integrity trailed off, the look on Galia's face perplexing her. “What?”

  Galia frowned, fiddled with a bottle of cleaner in her bucket. Softly, she said, “Integrity,” then seemed unable to say any more.

  Integrity stood and walked across the room, sitting on the end of her bed so as to be nearer to the maid. “What is it, Galia?”

  Galia licked her lips. “We have spent some time together, no?” Integrity nodded, urging the girl to continue. “We are...friends?”

  “Yes, of course we are,” Integrity said, growing impatient. “Just spit it out.”

  Galia sighed. “I know what your parents meant to you. At least, I know they were important to you. But...it's not easy for others to understand.” Galia was speaking slowly, as though being extremely careful of her word choice. Galia's nervousness only increased Integrity's unease. Galia was fidgeting now. “Vampires don't generally think of mortals as anything more than...food.” She said the last word apologetically, wincing. Raising her gaze to Integrity's face, she pressed on. “Do you ever stop to think about family hierarchy among cows when you are eating a steak? That the cow that died to feed you left behind those who cared for it?”

  Integrity frowned, shrugged. “No, I guess not. I try not to think about it at all.”

  Galia clenched her free hand, then relaxed it. “We have no such qualms.” She took a deep breath, looking at the floor once more. “Vampires have a...superiority complex, I suppose you would call it. We—they--believe that mortals exist only for their own use. They think that mortals deserve no more thought than a blade of grass trampled underfoot.”

  Trying to keep her rising anger from showing in her voice, Integrity asked quietly, “Are you defending Evan?”

  Galia's gaze flashed up for a moment, then looked away once more. “No, not precisely.” Integrity tasted something bitter. “He should not have killed your parents. It caused you undue pain and was cruel.” She hesitated again, and Integrity felt as though she was waiting for a piano to topple and fall on her head. “However, it is only fair to say that he did not know that at the time.”

  Integrity saw red. “How could he not know? He'd been following me, right? He saw the way I was with my parents! We didn't fight. We chose to spend time together!”

  “Oh, dear. I'm not handling this correctly,” Galia said to herself. She thought for a moment, then said, “I know that your relationship with your parents was genuine. But, try to understand, relationships are rarely how they seem at Westmarch.” She was peering intently at Integrity now, eager for her to understand. “When you have a boundless amount of time before you, it is easy to learn how to manipulate people. We tend to be superb actors, playing at roles that cover every aspect of our lives. All that matters is making existence better for oneself, regardless of what one has to do or say to achieve that goal.”

  “What could Evan possibly gain by killing my parents? Who were they to him?” Realizing that she was almost yelling, fearful that Evan or Paul would hear and come to investigate, she reined herself in.

  Galia opened her mouth, then closed it again. Integrity gestured impatiently for her to continue. “Evan may have honestly thought he was doing you a favor.”

  Integrity opened and closed her mouth several times, no words coming out, before she managed to say, “What? How? It would have been kinder for a stranger to be the one who killed them!”

  “I cannot guarantee any of this, this is merely my own supposition, but I believe that Evan choosing your parents may have been a strange, twisted form of charity. Evan would likely be glad to have his own parents removed from the picture.” Galia was looking at her seriously once more. “According to what information I am privy to, Evan was ordered to feed in front of you, in an effort to prove to you the veracity of what we are. The choice of 'food' was left up to him.”

  Integrity wrinkled her forehead. “And you honestly don't think he was being malicious?” She couldn't wrap her mind around that idea.

  “Integrity, my world is very different from yours. Things that you take for granted cannot be applied to Westmarch or the undead. Most vampires do not have parents, only creators. Family relationships are nonexistent with us.”

  Integrity rubbed the back of her neck. “I'm trying to understand,” she said, hoping that Galia wouldn't think she was arguing with her when she just needed more information. “You said that there are very few children, right? Vampires don't have kids?”

  Galia nodded. “It is very rare.”

  Integrity shook her head. “But, if they're so rare, don't the parents cherish and protect them? Even love them?”

  Galia shook her head, an apologetic look on her face. “
I'm afraid such is not the case. As with everything else, children are only a means to an end for us. Children are something that can be manipulated to gain power.”

  “How can children be a means to power? They're kids!” Integrity could feel a dull ache at her right temple, building to a migraine.

  “The most ready example would be the king and queen of Westmarch. They married to present a united front, one that would be nigh impossible to destroy, and they produced and heir so that, if they were assassinated, a replacement would be readily available. Evan--”

  Integrity waved a hand in the air, cutting Galia off. “No more, please. I think I've had all I can take for right now. I don't want to know about how many kids Evan has, or anything about Evan at all.” Galia opened her mouth, but Integrity held up her hand again. “Galia, please. I appreciate what you've told me, what you've always been willing to tell me, but I'm about to overflow at the moment. I just want to pretend that Evan doesn't even exist, that vampires really are a myth, okay?”

  Galia bowed her head, said, “As you wish,” and left the room quietly. Integrity hoped she hadn't hurt her feelings or offended her, but she didn't care enough to go after her. It wasn't worth risking opening up the conversation again. She had enough on her plate as it was.

  Є

  Integrity walked through the expansive mansion, a pleased smirk on her face. The opulence was apparent in every furnishing, the touch of a professional decorator kissing each object, each choice of fabric. The polished, dark wood of the massive table gleamed under the unique chandelier, seating for at least ten arranged immaculately around the oval. She traced the tips of her fingers along the high back of one matching chair.

  A noise caused her to turn, though she was not startled in the least. A handsome man stood behind her, frowning. She was used to that expression. He was never pleased to see her. She left him feeling unbalanced. Her smile grew.

  A knock at the door. She moved fluidly to open it. When the lock snicked back, the door was thrust aside and she was thrown backward through the air. A man rushed into the room, throwing his shoulder into her as she stood. She crashed through the plate glass window behind her, crushing the shards that preceded her. She still smiled.

  The newcomer, a vampire, his face bleached and sunken in preparation to feed, turned from her toward a flight of stairs. He was going for the triplets. She knew it instinctively. Her gaze flashed to the handsome man, the father of the infants. He was moving to intercept the vampire. She sighed inwardly. Mortals were so naïve.

  Moving with superhuman speed, she intercepted the two men, shoving her employer out of the way as though he were nothing more than a drape billowing in a breeze. Turning her attention to the vampire, she growled low in her throat, feeling deliciously feral.

  A quick succession of blows rained, the girl obviously gaining the upper hand. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, the vampire broke away and leaped through one of the remaining plate glass windows, shattering it easily. He loped off.

  She turned back to the man who still lay on the floor where she had thrown him, propped up on one arm. A look of horror washed over his face. He knew. She touched her face lightly, feeling the almost waxy consistency of her sunken flesh. She sighed audibly this time. “I had so enjoyed being your nanny,” she said regretfully, moving slowly toward him.

  “You're...you're...” he stuttered, unable to continue speaking. His gaze flashed to the stairs, concern for his children apparent in his wide eyes.

  “Don't worry, sir,” she said, almost purring. “I have a place for your children. They will be very happy there. Very...safe.”

  Just as her dream self lunged at the helpless man, Integrity startled awake, her back damp with sweat. It took several moments for her to gain her bearings in the pitch-black room. It was just a dream, she told herself with a shudder. It was just a dream...

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Crap!” Integrity said, slamming the two of clubs down on the coffee table before her. “Just take it, see if I care,” she grumped, glancing at the six sets Paul had laid out before him. “Winning's overrated anyway.”

  Pulling three more cards from his hand, he laid them on top of the two she had relinquished, straightened the pile reflexively. “Oh, I don't know,” he said calmly. “I think it's quite nice.” Integrity stuck her tongue out at him.

  The door opened and Integrity tensed, ready to spring for cover. Evan walked in, turned, and shut the door quietly. She relaxed, sighing inwardly. Regardless of his motivations in killing her parents, the man caused her stress. Paul stood, and murmured, “Sir.” Integrity sighed again, physically this time, though she hoped it wasn't loud enough for Evan to hear.

  Without acknowledging Paul, Evan walked over, shoved the couch near to the coffee table Integrity and Paul had gathered around, and sank into it. “Well, I have officially left Westmarch once again,” he said laconically. “What are we playing?” He leaned forward, looking at the cards laid out.

  “We're,” Integrity said, emphasizing the word, “playing Go Fish.” She wanted to ask what he was playing, but bit her tongue. He was being reasonably pleasant, for him; she shouldn't spoil it automatically.

  Evan pulled a face. “Really?” He sounded disbelieving, and condescending. “You have the full deck, correct?” He gestured at the cards before them.

  “Yes, sir,” Paul responded.

  “Well, then,” Evan said, as though that settled things. He brushed the cards toward him, and began shuffling.

  “Hey! We were in the middle of a game!” Integrity protested, unable to keep from speaking up. What, was he raised by wolves?

  Evan looked at her and raised one eyebrow. How do people do that?!? “Trust me, there will be plenty of time after nap and snack time.” Finished shuffling, he began dealing hands with ease. “The game's Texas Hold-'Em,” he said, suddenly all business, “Jack's wild.” Finished dealing, he slapped the remaining cards on the table and raised his own, automatically organizing his cards into groups.

  “Whoa, wait a minute,” Integrity interrupted, watching Paul follow Evan's lead. “What the heck is Texas Hold-'Em?”

  Paul glanced at Evan, then hurried to explain, “It's a form of poker, miss.” Integrity clenched her jaw, frustrated that Paul reverted to a servant so instinctively whenever Evan appeared. She forced herself to focus on the matter at hand.

  “Poker? I don't know how to play poker.” She was careful to keep her voice defiant, not comfortable with having to admit that she didn't know something in front of Evan. Eager to make up for her weakness, she said casually, “Besides, I don't gamble.”

  Evan looked at her over his cards, leaning back against the couch. “Go get the gambling chips from my room, and a pen and piece of paper,” he ordered. Integrity stared at him blankly, unable to decide if she should be more upset over being ordered around, or the thought of entering his private domain. Before a full second had passed, Paul laid his cards face-down, and moved to the hallway. Integrity realized that Evan had not intended for her to fulfill his demands. She glanced down, then back up at him.

  “Did you not hear me? I don't gamble.” She ached to reach out and straighten her cards, their disarray disturbing to her, but she forced herself to keep her hands laid calmly in her lap.

  One side of Evan's mouth turned up slightly. “Of course. You have nothing with which to bid.”

  “That's not it,” she said, feeling a blush creeping up as she was reminded of her dependent status. Speaking each word slowly and distinctly, she repeated, “I don't gamble.”

  Evan waved one hand dismissively. “Relax. Paul has nothing to bet, either. We'll only use chips.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Although, you could always threaten the loser with your charming presence.”

  Integrity couldn't help but tighten her hands. Evan's smirk grew, and she knew he'd seen her do so. “The fact still remains that I have no idea how to play poker or Texas Hold-'Em or anything else.”

  Paul
returned, setting a small wooden box with different colored chips on the table. He sat and placed a small pad of paper and a pen down, as well. He looked to Evan. “How much are we starting with, sir?”

  “Just divvy it all up,” Evan said.

  As the multi-colored chips hit the table, Evan began stacking his neatly. Integrity followed his example, just to have something to do with her hands. As soon as Paul was finished, he pushed the pad of paper and pencil toward her and began explaining the different hands and their order. “Oh, I get it,” she said after a moment, writing down a straight. “It's like Yahtzee.”

  Evan snorted. “Yeah, except if you get a yahtzee, we know you're cheating.” Integrity stuck her tongue out at him and started rearranging her cards to her liking.

  The trio played several hands, Paul steadily winning more than either Integrity or Evan. When Integrity's own pile was desperately small, she folded early on and sat back to watch the hand play out. She took advantage of Evan's concentration to look at him without his knowing.

  His hair is longer now, she mused, just long enough to get messy. She noted that he always had to wear the sleeves of his dress shirts unbuttoned and rolled up in order to accommodate the brace he still wore. I wonder how much longer he'll have to wear that thing. Evan traded out one card, Paul kept all of his and raised. Evan raised right back. “You have nothing left to bet, sir,” Paul said. Integrity's gaze flashed to the table before Evan and saw that all of his chips were in the pot.

  “I'll raise you an hour of babysitting,” Evan said, jerking his head toward Integrity without looking at her.

  “Oh, so now you want to spend time with me?” she said, knowing full well he meant the opposite.

  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye for a moment before looking back at Paul. “Loser has to take over whenever the winner says. Deal?”

  Paul looked at Integrity, obviously uncomfortable with the bet. “You may as well take it,” she told him. Raising one hand to her mouth, as though to keep their conversation private, she said, “As long as you lose, of course. Who wants to be with him?” Paul smiled and turned his hand so she could see his cards. She sighed and slumped back in the chair. “Ah, take it anyway. It'll be good for him to get knocked down a notch or two.”