And they'd seen Nicholas. Stephen tensed for a moment, hoping that in their vaporized state they hadn't recognized the significance of that. It wasn't likely. Unless they knew what to listen for, Nicholas's heartbeat would sound normal, human. Only someone with experience could distinguish the minor differences and know he shouldn't exist.
Five minutes earlier and they would have found Madeleine. A human draped across his couch would have been something to report. The Council left him alone, but they also kept a watch on him. With his history, they would never fully trust him. No human had entered his house for years, with the exception of his human companions. Certainly no one like Madeleine.
The line of his lips flattened out as he faced reality.
I should have just killed her.
She was trouble. He'd known it when she'd appeared on his doorstep. He'd stood on the stairs and watched her, defiantly determined in soaking wet clothes, and known she was trouble. Bulldog tenacity was a dangerous trait in a human. When a human showed up at a vampire's house looking for a lost relative, things were usually starting to fall apart.
She obviously wasn't going to let this go. Convincing the human police to let the case drop hadn't been difficult.
Madeleine wasn't going to be as easy. If he were lucky, the attack in the alley would scare her away. But his luck hadn't been going that way for the last few months. No reason to think it would change now.
Under any other circumstances, at any other time, she never would have left his house alive that first night, let alone gotten free of him the second. He'd let her live on instinct. The same instincts that had kept him alive for two hundred years, years when many vampires had faded or died or gone insane. He'd learned to trust his instincts. He wasn't going to ignore them now.
Unfortunately, Madeleine's arrival at his house tonight and the newspaper article had changed things. Instinct was subject to the laws of logic. And logic said she was too much of a risk to let live. Too much had happened recently. She was a distraction he couldn't afford. He stared down at his hand and curled the fingers into a tight fist.
Madeleine was just the latest addition to the web that was being woven. Did she belong to the weaver or was she just another fly caught in the threads? He was too close, too trapped in the web himself, to know.
He pulled on his coat and left the house. The Council would be waiting for him, watching him. No one ignored an official summons. The thin wisps of the Guardians hovered behind as Stephen walked down the street. He could use his preternatural strength and appear at the Council Chambers in minutes. Or he could drive at normal human speed and arrive in a little more than an hour. He smiled and climbed into his Jag. They could wait.
He drove by Madeleine's apartment. Nicholas lingered in the shadowy corner across the street. He straightened when he saw Stephen's car, but he didn't make any attempt to contact him. It hadn't been the first time Stephen had come by Madeleine's.
Caution and curiosity had drawn him back the second night. And that set the pattern for the rest of the week.
Each night he'd stood in the dark and watched her silhouette undulate against the curtains as she moved through her apartment preparing for bed. Alone. Her shadow flickered against the curtains, teasing him—her hands opening her blouse and sliding it off her shoulders, slipping her skirt down her legs. His mind filled in the rest. Two hundred years had given him one hell of an imagination.
It had also given him boundless self-control. Which seemed to have disappeared since Madeleine's arrival into his life.
He glanced up at her windows but didn't slow the car. She's just a human. But there was something about her that intrigued him. Tempted him.
It had been years since any female, and decades since a human woman, had interested him. Females of both species turned out to be more work than pleasure. Maddie would be all pleasure. His eyeteeth grew at the thought.
This strange attraction was the only explanation for his behavior the night they met. He should have killed her. Instead, he'd kissed her.
It had been a logical move, Stephen insisted quietly in his mind. Human females were much easier to control when passion was involved. The seduction scene he'd fed into her thoughts would surface again. And again. He didn't doubt that she'd been dreaming of him. His body clenched at the thought.
Damn. This can't be about sensation. It's about control. The more tightly they were bonded, the easier she would be to manage.
Stephen drove to the edge of the city and turned down the winding road leading to the Council Chambers. Their arrival in America two hundred years ago had been followed by an immediate land grab. The Community moved each generation, and individual members came and went, but the Council retained their chambers. The location was far enough out of town that visitors at odd hours went mostly unnoticed. Stephen arrived at the Chambers and parked a distance away. The final walk would do him good—give him a moment to regain the control that had slipped.
His amorphous escorts hovered nearby. Having been in that state, he knew the senses were dulled almost to the point of blindness. It was an uncomfortable form for vampires, having grown used to the hypersensitive abilities that came with their conversion.
Two huge guards blocked the Chamber doors with their bodies, arms folded tightly across their chests. They stared straight ahead, ignoring Stephen as he approached.
The doors behind them swung open.
"Stephen, thank God you're here."
The guards stepped back, opening a space for Thomass, Council Member and all-around model vampire. Stephen and Thomass had been raised together—given to Joshua when their conversions were completed—but never were two creatures more different. When a seat on the Council had opened up, unanimous consent inserted Thomass into the slot. Now, Thomass was a leader in the Community and Stephen a self-imposed outcast.
Through all their years, Stephen had never liked Thomass much, but he was the closest thing Stephen had to a friend on the Council.
Thomass grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. He slowed when they were away from the guards but not quite in the main chamber.
"Things are not going well, Stephen." Thomass glanced around nervously before continuing. "I don't like it. There are so many rumors going around, unbelievable statements. About you. You've never been a favorite of the Council—"
"For obvious reasons," Stephen interjected.
"Well, yes. But now, even those sympathetic to you are starting to question your loyalty."
Stephen didn't answer though Thomass paused long enough for him to do so. There was nothing to say. They'd never earned his loyalty, and he'd never given it.
"Be careful when you go in there. I know you don't like them or respect them, but some of them are very clever."
Stephen nodded. Thomass was right and he'd do well to remember that.
"Is there anything happening I should know about?" Thomass asked.
Stephen raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"I don't know. Anything unusual. Anything out of the ordinary. Anything." He repeated the furtive glance up and down the hall before dropping his voice. "I think one of them is having you watched. I can't be of help to you if I'm surprised by what I hear. So, is there anything I should know about?"
Stephen scrolled down the list in his mind. An illegally created vampire, a tenacious family member, and a physiological change that could threaten the whole community.
He shook his head. "No."
A glimmer of disappointment sparked in Thomass' eyes, almost as if he knew Stephen was lying. Stephen brushed the disturbing thought away. He'd spent years learning to control his physical responses. But then, Thomass had been with him during those years. If anyone was going to recognize the signs, it would be him.
"Ready?" Thomass asked and waited for Stephen's nod. He shook Stephen's hand and stepped back. "Okay, let's go."
Stephen let Thomass precede him, the vampire's anxious fluttering grinding on his nerves. He'd face the Council, leave
, and go kill Madeleine.
And at some point, he had to apologize to Gayle. He'd only known Gayle for a dozen years, but he knew the other vampire could pout for that long, or longer.
He added it to his mental list of things to do before dawn and entered the Council Chamber.
The room was lit entirely by candles, ostensibly because of sensitive vampire eyes. Stephen knew it was for atmosphere—the better to intimidate you with, my dear. The low light created shadows deep enough to hide the creatures that entered the Chamber.
He walked to the center of the room and waited. Sound slowly faded as he began a deliberate scan of the Council members.
He let the anger and memories flow into his eyes as he moved from person to person. It had been years since he'd seen most of them. He passed by the new members and lingered on the original Council. Some looked away. Stephen waited patiently until they looked up and met his eyes.
They'd created him. They could damn well acknowledge his existence.
Silence prevailed until he reached the last Council member.
The Leader, Simon, sat at the top of the half circle that formed the Council table.
"Stephen, we asked you to come here tonight—"
"You entered my house without permission," he interrupted.
Simon had the courtesy to look embarrassed. "As to that, we apologize for the rudeness of our messengers. They were overzealous in extending our invitation."
"Invitation?" The corner of his lip curled into the mockery of a smile. "Then I'm free to leave?"
"Well—"
"Of course he's free to leave," Thomass interjected. "This isn't a trial, is it? We wanted him here to answer questions, nothing more."
Simon acknowledged Thomass with a nod and then turned back to Stephen. "As Thomass has stated, you are free to leave. We hope, however, that you will stay and speak with us."
Stephen nodded. He wanted to hear their questions, wanted to see how much they knew. And how much they suspected. He decided to push a little to see what came out.
"I hear you lost another one," he taunted, silently thanking Gayle for the information. He looked again at the table behind which the Council was seated. Three chairs were empty. "Joshua, Bernard, and now Mikel. Some people might consider being a member of this Council hazardous duty."
"Murderous bastard!" Robertson bolted to his feet, sending his chair clanging to floor. "Chain him to the field. Let the sun have him. We all know he's the one."
Stephen ignored the ranting vampire and continued to stare at Simon.
"You're well informed," the Leader acknowledged.
"I like to keep up on things."
"Then you probably know the rest. He was found in his lair…"
"Death by silver dagger," Stephen finished.
Simon nodded. "Three vampires, all killed at night with silver daggers. We have to look at—" He paused. "All options." Suspects, Stephen mentally substituted. "Anyone who might have a grudge against this Council."
"And you suspect me? I'm honored."
A low hum of voices vibrated across the floor. The Council was used to being respected, feared at the very least. Simon held up his hand, and the grumbling slowed. Anger flushed the faces of several vampires. Shoulders hunched, teeth were bared.
Stephen felt his own eyeteeth extend, his body preparing for attack.
"This is ridiculous." Thomass' voice rang clear over the rumble of voices. He stood and opened his arms wide, hands uplifted. "Unless Stephen has suddenly developed an immunity to silver, and I'm assuming he'd tell us if he did…" Several vampires around the table smiled at Thomass' sarcasm. "He isn't the one."
"Whoever's killing us is using a human," Robertson said.
"Stephen doesn't like humans," Thomass dismissed.
"He seems to have developed a taste for one or two." Robertson's smug tone indicated he knew something.
So, they know about Madeleine. And Nicholas. Thomass was right. They had been watching him. Stephen held himself still, crushing any reaction.
"We've all seen the paper." Robertson held up the same article Gayle had shown Stephen earlier. "There's more to the story. I spoke with the fledgling Stephen volunteered to raise for our community." Robertson was one of the Council Members who had disagreed with Stephen taking on Dylan when Joshua was found dead.
"I don't see what the problem is," Thomass said. "Yes, it was sloppy, but these things happen. Bodies do get found."
Stephen felt the approval of several members as Thomass finished. He shifted his shoulders, trying to loosen some of the tension that had crept up his back. Yes, one body had been found. His hope was the other three would stay where they were supposed to—dead and buried.
"This isn't just a question of tidiness, Thomass." Robertson held up the paper. "This woman was staked and her body found on your friend's property—now, she's got a cousin who's asking questions. And it looks like she's turning to Stephen for the answers."
One by one, each set of eyes turned from Robertson to Stephen. It wasn't an official rule—the Community had few official rules—but it was an unspoken one. Any family member who appeared looking for a victim was eliminated. Immediately.
The survival of the Community depended on myth and legend—on the disbelief in the supernatural by the general human population. One human who knew the truth could cause problems that would rock the vampire world across the planet.
Madeleine.
Stephen ignored the heated stares and looked back at Simon. They were looking for proof or protest. Something from Stephen to say he was innocent. He would give them nothing.
"Stephen?" The Leader turned his name into a reprimand.
"Yes. The cousin has been to my house."
"On more than one occasion," Robertson added, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Why haven't you destroyed her?" Simon asked, his voice turning logical. "You, in particular, understand the danger of allowing family members to search for the lost."
Stephen pulled his lips back at the reminder but kept his voice steady. "Yes. She won't be a problem."
"Why haven't you destroyed her?" Simon repeated.
Stephen stood silent. He didn't have an answer. Didn't have one to satisfy himself and certainly didn't have one that would satisfy the Council.
"Because of the press, of course," Thomass said. Stephen as well as the entire Council looked toward Thomass. "If Stephen had killed the cousin so recently after the death of the woman, we'd have press swarming this case. You know how the media loves a good multiple murder."
Members seated at the table nodded in agreement.
"I'm sure that as time goes by, Stephen will address the issue. Right, Stephen?"
Stephen nodded. It was all so simple. A little too simple.
"But how many of us will die before he decides to kill the woman?" Robertson shook his head. "Whoever has been killing vampires is using a human to help." He pointed to Stephen. "He's always hated us, he's got a family history of silver daggers, and now he takes up with a human. Interesting coincidence."
"But I thought the woman just came onto the scene when her cousin died." The voice of reason came from Charles, one of the newer Council members. Stephen had no feeling for him at all, but he was pleased someone had asked the question. Logic among the Council had to be encouraged.
"That's what he'd like us to believe. I think we should talk to the fledgling he's been raising." Before anyone could stop him, Robertson nodded to the guard, and a side door opened.
Dylan stumbled into the room. He looked young and scared. Stephen was amazed at the lack of sympathy he felt for the fledgling. It struck him again how unusual the choice was for Joshua. If Joshua was going to convert a human, why Dylan? They didn't seem like a good match. Joshua had believed in truth and tolerance. Dylan was too smooth. No, they weren't a good match. So why?
Dylan looked at Stephen as he walked by. "I'm sorry," he pleaded.
"Fledgling, speak to me." Dylan turned to
face Simon. "Tell us what you know about this situation." He tapped the newspaper article.
"It was nothing, really."
"Tell us."
"Well, I was friends with this girl, Danielle. A human. I was going to make her my human companion when I moved out of Stephen's house. I came home one night, and she was there. But she wasn't right. There was something wrong with her." His voice sped up to a hysterical pace. "And Stephen said he'd take care of it. I left to go feed—" He glanced at Stephen and looked like he was about to apologize again.
Stephen watched dispassionately. He wasn't about to become part of Dylan's little show. The lies were clever and close to the truth. Close enough that explaining the subtleties would be a waste of time.
With one more pleading look, Dylan turned back to Simon.
"When I came back, Danielle was dead and her cousin was there."
"Had you ever seen this cousin before?" Robertson asked. "Maybe she was one of Stephen's friends," he prompted.
"No. I mean, I knew about her." Dylan shook his head. "No. I know what you're thinking, and it isn't possible. I'm sure Stephen didn't know Madeleine before that night. I'd swear to it."
He sounded so earnest, so sincere—so unbelievably loyal that it became obvious to Stephen, and probably everyone in the room, that Dylan would lie to protect him. Stephen could barely contain his sneer. Dylan was setting him up. Why? And who was pulling Dylan's strings?
"Stephen? What do you have to say to this?"
"What would you have me say? You said this wasn't a trial, yet you bring out witnesses. If there is an accusation to be made, do it now."
Gazes fell and turned away as he boldly looked back at the Council set on condemning him. They were just two hundred years too late.
"The disposal was a mistake," Stephen continued. "I admit to that. I will handle the cousin when it is appropriate."
"It's been enough time. We will send someone after her," Thomass announced.
"No!" Stephen felt his teeth extend at the threat to Madeleine. "She's mine. I will handle it."
Silver Dagger Page 5
