Indeed not. “Fine,” Lena said on an exhale, “but we’re going to look. We are not engaging with them.”
Thorn barked a laugh. “Lena declining a fight? Wonders will never cease!”
The thought surprised her too. “This is different,” she snapped.
“Oh?”
“That,” she jabbed her finger in the direction of the inn, “is no ordinary Fallen, and you,” she prodded Thorn’s shoulder, “are no ordinary Vampire.”
She lifted her chin in defiance, yet Thorn only continued to smirk at her. God damn it, he’s arrogant!
Using the trees as cover, they skirted the green, dematerialising at intervals as they went. Their last stop was the roof of the old stable block a few hundred yards from the rear entrance of the pub. Her mouth pressed into a tight line as she measured their position. As long as they didn’t move, even an experienced Fallen like Asher couldn’t sense them at this distance, and, for some unfathomable reason, Fallen and humans alike rarely looked up when searching for their enemy.
She thought back to their earlier meeting with Roarke and Bay, scanning the rest of the customers in her mind. No one, except the two other Vampires had shown even the slightest hint of recognition when she and Thorn were there. It was natural to assume that the landlord must have betrayed them. He was, after all, the only human they’d interacted with.
She chewed on her bottom lip; it didn’t fit. No human was that good an actor and the jovial landlord had been all smiles and genuine hospitality. There was no way seasoned warriors like Lena and Thorn would have missed any stray emotions leaking out from under even the most practised of facades.
Lena watched from the shadows, the fiery heat of Thorn’s bicep pressed up against her left arm. Asher and his lieutenants were loitering by the back door to the inn, across the old cobbled yard. The short, lanky haired one shifted on his feet, glancing at his watch. They were waiting for someone. But who?
Lena glanced at Thorn, but he just shrugged.
The answer came strutting around the corner.
A dark haired woman with her hair scraped back into a tight bun rounded the corner. Her lithe body encased in skin-tight jeans and a figure hugging t-shirt, she sauntered up to the group, her high heels click-clacking on the uneven ground. She stopped just in front of Commander Asher, ignoring the other men. Lena watched her bob a little curtsey. As the woman drew herself back up to her full height, the light from the overhead lamp caught her face, revealing her features for the first time. Lena hissed and she looked back to see Thorn’s eyes widen in recognition too.
“I don’t fucking believe it,” Lena said under her breath.
The woman currently batting her eyelids at the Commander was none other than Rose, the seemingly shy and nervous maid from House Bowman.
“How the fuck did we miss that?” Thorn asked, disgusted.
Good fucking question.
Lena thought back to their welcome at the Bowman coven. Rose was nervous and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye. Granted, it was not the smooth, slick welcome she’d received at other Houses, but Roarke didn't look perturbed. Lena assumed Rose’s behaviour was normal. She mentally punched herself for not asking the why of it. What was it they said about assumptions? Oh, yeah. They were the mother of all fuck ups, that’s what!
Lena turned back to the show across the way.
“Yes, Sire,” the woman cooed, making Lena’s blood boil, “it was definitely Thorn Blackwood.”
“You’re sure?” Asher asked.
“Absolutely.” Rose beamed.
“What about Kaden?” one of the lieutenants chimed in.
Lena’s heart skipped a beat as the woman shook her head. “No, Sire. Lena was with him.”
Fuck!
“The King out and about with only a Guardian for protection,” the lieutenant scoffed.
Asher smirked and shook his head at his subordinate. “Don't be an idiot, Rook. Lena of House Blackwood has never been just another Guardian.”
Lena felt Thorn shift beside her. Was he growling?
“Oh, no!” Rose shrieked, drawing Lena’s attention away from Thorn. “She’s Steward of the Watch now.”
Double fuck.
Asher rounded on her like a spinning top, grabbing Rose by her shoulders. “What did you say?”
“Lena is Steward of the Watch,” Rose whispered.
“You’re positive?”
“Yes, Sire. She has the daggers on her epaulettes; besides, Master Roarke introduced her as such.”
The Commander released her with a shove, turning his anger towards his lieutenants. “Tell me. How is it that a mere agent knows something I do not?”
No one answered; instead, each man chose to stare at his own feet.
“Rook, I need to know why the King is travelling without his Keeper. Kaden does not shirk his responsibilities.”
The respect that resonated with Asher’s words as he spoke of Kaden had Lena’s eyebrows shooting skyward. She had never seen this side of the Commander. On the plus side, they clearly didn't know Kaden had been shot by one of their weapons and was currently languishing in the medical centre. She glanced at Thorn who nodded back at her, showing he understood.
“Anything else we need to know?” Asher asked Rose.
“Only that they wanted to talk to Master Crane about the night his father died.”
All four lieutenants looked at each other, some hidden message passing between them.
“I see,” Asher replied, rubbing his hand across the back of his head, as if contemplating what Rose said. Lena didn’t buy it. Asher knew exactly what was going on. “Were any other names mentioned?” he asked.
“I don’t know, Sire. They spoke to Crane in his office and I couldn't get close enough.”
Asher narrowed his eyes at the woman, but didn’t question her further. Instead, he asked Rook, “Have you set the charges?”
“Yes, Sir, set to look like an accident just like you said, but…”
“But what?”
“Well, might they not go back? Would it not serve us better to wait?”
Asher shook his head. “We cannot wait. Even after all this time, we have to assume she’s still alive. If I'm right, and Crane of House Bowman swore an honour oath and they didn't ask the right questions, then he may not have told them everything. We cannot afford for them to go back. No, we close the House now.”
Lena felt a hand gripping her shoulder. She looked down at the hand then back at Thorn. His eyes were blazing and he shook his head. Her brow creased as she looked down at the roof tiles beneath her, then back at Thorn. She hadn’t even realised she’d moved, but she had. She’d crept forward to…to what?
“We have to assume she’s alive.” Asher was talking about Eden.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced herself to refocus.
Glancing back down across the courtyard, she realised Asher was concluding his business. He thanked Rose for her hard work, before warning her to make herself scarce. He clapped his hand on Rook’s back as they walked back to the Land Rover.
It would be so easy…
“Other fish to fry, Lena.” Thorn’s mouth was millimetres from her ear. White-hot heat washed over her body as his breath tickled her cheek. She swallowed hard and watched the Land Rover disappear from view. Damn it, but he was right.
Chapter 11
Thorn didn’t wait to explain where he was going. He knew Lena would understand. There was only an hour till sunrise and they had to hurry. He landed on the road, opposite the fir-lined driveway that led to House Bowman, his keen eyes drinking in his surroundings.
He heard a small thud behind him and was about to tell Lena to keep up, when suddenly he was inhaling gravel and blinking dust out of his eyes.
In less than a second he was on his feet, his gun in his hand. He rounded on his attacker, fangs on full display.
Lena stood there, mirroring his aggression, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “You are a fucking idiot!”
<
br /> He was in front of her in a blink, his nose just millimetres from hers. Her midnight blue eyes widened slightly, but that was her only reaction. “Who do you think you are?” he growled.
She pushed him away. She actually fired both her palms at his shoulders and pushed him away. “I am Steward of the Watch, and you are no longer a mere Guardian, My Liege.”
Thorn just stood there open mouthed, his fists clenching as his body was rocked by fury and something else he didn’t understand. He tried to form words, but the shock clouded his mind. Nothing came out.
“You are a fucking stubborn bastard, Thorn Blackwood, and you forget you are our King now. You cannot just do as you please and you cannot be in the field alone.”
“Christ, that’s rich, coming from you,” was what he wanted to say, but he held his tongue. Damn her.
He studied her face. Her eyes burned with an inner fire and she held her head high. She was not backing down. She’s magnificent. “You amaze me, Lena.”
The corner of her mouth tilted upwards in a wry smile. “Sometimes, I amaze myself.”
He inhaled, catching her intoxicating scent and had to close his eyes. When he looked at her again, she was all business.
“Right. What’s the plan?” she asked.
Thorn looked across the road at House Bowman. There was now less than an hour till sunrise and the place was silent. Too silent. “How are you at bomb disposal?” he asked.
Lena gave a short laugh in response.
“Yeah, I know. Where’s Mercury when you need him?” Thorn replied.
“We should call him.”
Thorn shook his head. “We need to get the Bowmans out first.”
“Not without finding those devices. We are not charging in like a couple of headless younglings.”
“Agreed.”
Thorn sent up a little prayer that the Fallen hadn’t changed their M.O. and used different explosives. They were in a shit load of trouble if they had. There was barely enough time to get the job done as it was. Waiting for Mercury to arrive would be cutting it too fine.
Vampires could sense anything natural as easily as they breathed in and out. Synthetic chemicals like the ones Fallen used in their explosives took training. Thorn and the rest of the Order kept up to date with everything on and off the military and terrorist markets. That didn’t mean that some smart-arse with a chemistry set and an internet connection wasn’t busy concocting their own brand of evil in a garage somewhere though.
Thorn scanned his surroundings. House Bowman was still silent. His brow knitted; there was no movement inside whatsoever. Odd.
He inhaled and caught the faint whiff of sweet almonds on the air. “Lena?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Oh goodie! Good old C-4.”
“More than one site,” Thorn replied.
“Yep, but it shouldn’t be too difficult. As long as we can get to the detonators, we should be fine.”
Thorn nodded, hoping she was right.
“We need to check the main exits first,” she added.
“You check the front and I’ll see about those patio doors at the back.” He moved towards the driveway but Lena blocked his path, her arms folded. “What?” he asked.
“Did you forget about the part where I called you a fucking idiot?”
How could he? No one spoke to him like that, except maybe Kaden, but he didn’t count. Funny then, that he wasn’t annoyed about it. He rather liked it in fact. Actually pushing him over? Whole different story. He rubbed his chin, double checking he’d got rid of the grit.
“Well?” Lena prompted.
“No. I haven’t forgotten.”
She just stood there, defiant.
Thorn sighed. “Fine. We go together. You want to hold my hand? Make sure I don’t run off?”
Her beautiful blue eyes widened before she suddenly felt the need to inspect her boots. Lena looked embarrassed! Did she want to hold his hand? As soon as he thought it, his brow knitted. Lena holding hands with anyone was ridiculous. Besides, he couldn’t be sure what she wanted; the damned woman hardly ever gave anything away.
His mouth lifted into a small smile. She did growl though. Shaking his head, he stalked towards the front door, Lena by his side. Whatever the hell was going on between them would have to wait. Again.
Lena tried to match her stride to Thorn’s. It was nigh on impossible and left her feeling like those stupid power-walkers she’d seen charging round Hyde Park. Minus the Lycra, of course.
As they approached the front door, the sickly-sweet smell of marzipan hung so heavy in the air, Lena felt like she was inhaling treacle. “Ugh. I hate C-4.”
“Yeah, but it could be worse,” Thorn replied.
He was right. C-4 was pretty simple in the grand scheme of things. Easy to detect, easy to defuse and — unlike in the movies — it didn’t blow up if you so much as sneezed on it.
Lena watched Thorn tracking the sweet smell. There was no point in them both doing it. Besides, after her calling him an idiot and then burning up at his “want to hold my hand” comment, she didn’t think she could stand being so close to him.
Thorn was poking about in the flowerbed, bent at the waist. Lena bit down on her lower lip to stop the moan desperate to escape. Thorn’s combats stretched tight across his thighs and his t-shirt had ridden up to display a small strip of exquisite flesh. The taste of copper bloomed in her mouth as she watched him move, his muscles bunching and flexing like a well-oiled machine.
“Lena, have a look at this!”
She swiped her tongue over her lip, making sure her self-inflicted wound healed before Thorn noticed. She looked down at the flowerbed and arched a brow. “Well, he did say it was rigged to look like an accident.”
Despite the pungent smell of almonds, there wasn’t actually that much C-4. Thorn had dug down and moved some recently disturbed earth to expose the gas main that ran parallel to the front of the house. The explosive moulded to the side of the pipe was no bigger than a butter bean. The detonator and fuse weren’t anything special either, though both were almost guaranteed to be obliterated once the gas ignited.
Lena knew this wasn’t Thorn’s first bomb disposal. She knew, as explosives went, C-4 was almost as stable as you could wish for. She knew he was safe. Ninety-nine percent sure anyway.
As Thorn pulled the detonator out from its plasticine-like home with a slow steady movement, that one percent of doubt flooded her mind. She held her breath as her heart staccatoed in her chest. She thought it very likely that for those few agonising seconds, the world stopped spinning on its axis.
Thorn stood up, detonator and fuse in one hand and a marble of C-4 in the other. Self-satisfaction flowed from him like an ocean wave so that the sweet almond smell of the explosive was almost undecipherable under the mask of his arrogance. “Well, that was easy!”
Lena rolled her eyes. “C’mon, MacGyver. Let's check the rest of the house.”
“Let’s make it quick. I still don’t like how quiet it is around here.” He scanned the skyline. “And we’re running out of time.”
Lena led the way as they checked the rest of the perimeter. They found four other charges, the detonators all set at intervals. Of course, Thorn played superman for each one. And every time, Lena’s universe stood still. Exhausted, she finally took a proper breath when Thorn placed the last ball of C-4 in a plastic bag and stashed it in the lower pocket of his combat trousers. Without the detonators and fuses, they were about as harmless as play-dough but that didn’t stop the bile rising in her throat at the thought of Thorn carrying explosives in his pocket.
The colour of the sky was changing, getting lighter. The new yellow tones streaking across the horizon reflected in Thorn’s eyes so that they burned with a new intensity.
“Lena?”
Shit. She was staring again. “Sorry. What?”
“I said, let’s get inside.”
God, she was a moron. Lena nodded as Thorn opened the front door.
&nbs
p; Silence.
“Told you it was too bloody quiet. Even this close to sunrise, it shouldn’t be like this.”
Thorn was right. It was quieter than the grave. Lena sent her senses out, washing down the entrance hall and through the rest of the house. The images of the ground floor that came back were monochrome with not even the barest hint of life.
Lena pushed out a frustrated breath. “Nothing.”
“Try harder. We have to be sure.”
She closed her eyes and followed the map in her mind. The black and white image made House Bowman look like a movie trailer for a ghost story. Nothing had any substance, each object fading into the next like whirling smoke. She rounded corner after corner, down corridors and through rooms. The lounge they had sat in earlier was empty, as was Crane’s office.
She continued down the hall until she came to a door she couldn’t penetrate. She focused all her strength but her mind couldn’t get past it. Given the way these journeys were reported back to her, she couldn’t see the door as a whole. She took a step back, studying each part of it individually, the edges bleeding out of her field of vision.
On the surface, it looked much the same as all the other doors. It wasn’t. The oak skin matched, but the door itself was solid metal. Lena took in the bluish-grey lustre peeking out from behind the hinges. It had to be Osmium.
Her mind was just starting to turn away when she caught something else. There, at the lower right hand corner was a soft pink glow. Only Vampires burnt brilliant red on Lena’s charts. If they were defended by a solid wall of Osmium, the only thing on the planet impervious to any Fae powers, then it stood to reason that their light would dim.
Satisfied, her mind snapped back to the entrance hall and she rocked on her heels as she opened her eyes.
“Well?” Thorn asked.
“They’re safe.”
“You’re sure?”
“There’s some sort of safe room at the opposite end of the corridor to Crane’s office.”
“How safe is safe?”
“Osmium-door-safe.”
“Blimey! No wonder it's quiet around here. House Bowman has deep pockets!”
Bound to Blackwood Page 13
