“Am I allowed to at least stay the night, Sasha?”
“Sure. Just leave your key with Pepper or James tomorrow when you're done moving your things out. I added a letter of recommendation to your final paycheck,” she said, gesturing to an envelope on the edge of her desk.
“Thanks, Sasha.” Laurel picked up the envelope and departed the office after a round of goodbyes with her boss. At least most of her things were still packed in boxes. All she needed to do was pack her clothes and the few belongings on her nightstand and arrange to have it all transferred...somewhere. Closing the door to her bedroom behind her, she glanced around the gloomy space and engaged the deadbolt.
Tossing the envelope on her bed, she walked over to snap on the small lamp and kick her heels off. Thick and cloying, shadows hung in the corners but there was more than enough light to see by. Raising her hands, she drug her palms over the loose layers of her hair, pulling it away from her face. Pepper was going to be disappointed but not surprised. They'd discussed the trickle of customers and what it might mean while they were on duty.
Laurel thought she had enough money saved for about two weeks, give or take, in a hotel room. Sebastian would offer her shelter in his home when he found out, she knew, and she wasn't sure what to think about that. On one hand, it would give her time to get her affairs in order. On the other, she didn't want to come across as needy and dependent. Although, the thought of being under his roof again was appealing no matter which way she sliced it.
What a conundrum.
Walking across to the closet, she opened the door and went inside to pull out an armful of clothes. Tossing them on the bed, she found a suitcase next and flopped it down next to the pile. The zipper buzzed around the edge and she opened it up. In the midst of folding her seventh garment, she paused.
Frowning, she glanced toward the window. The room was utterly silent barring the sound of the wind rustling through a tree outside. She thought she'd heard something more along the lines of a hiss or a whisper.
Her door, when she looked, was still closed and locked.
Putting it down to stress, she resumed packing. Less than four minutes later, she had the undeniable sensation of being watched. Another hiss, like the sound of a sole brushing wood, drew her gaze to the shadowy corners of the room. It was dark, but not so dark she couldn't see that no one lurked there.
Still, a shiver swept down her spine.
The abrupt blare of music from her skirt pocket startled her so bad she yelped. Digging it out, she flipped it open and put it to her ear, forgetting to check the caller ID. One hand planted itself over her pounding heart.
“Hello?”
“Laurel, it's Dad. Honey, you need to get on the next plane home.”
“Why? What's wrong?” The eerie sensation of another presence close by persisted as she listened and started pushing clothes into the suitcase with haste.
What she heard down the line scared her more than any monsters, real or imagined.
“Sebastian, it’s me. There’s been an accident and I’m in Kansas. I won’t be in Sperling when you get there and I wanted to let you know where I am. I don’t have a lot of details right now. My mom’s in surgery and none of us have any answers yet. I’ll try and call you later. Oh, by the way-- Sasha let me go. Is there any way I can store my things at your place until I get back? Thanks. Talk to you soon.”
Sebastian listened to Laurel’s sobbed and broken message. He could hear the confusion and fear through her heartache. It didn't help that she was now without lodging.
More than a week had gone by since their sensual phone call. He had spent the intervening nights restoring order to the vampire population of Madrid and dealing with the backlash of police and media involvement. Handling the fallout had required some deft maneuvering on his part; the papers broke a story about anonymous tips and a shoot-out, which had ended in the deaths of those responsible. Sebastian's influence and power extended into the local government and even then it had required extensive persuasion to snip all the loose threads.
“Bernard.” He growled the name, whirling to depart his office for the sanctuary he kept below ground. Rich dark woods and elegant understatement in the furnishings suggested both wealth and masculinity. To ensure his safety, the room lacked any windows, and the security system on the door required both a number sequence and a retinal scan to gain entrance--at least by mortal means.
Bernard appeared in the opened door mere seconds behind the agitated Sebastian. He was almost always the soul of calm professionalism, which made him a good foil for the Prince. Despite the courtesy between them, there was warmth that had developed over the long period of his service, and a more loyal thrall Sebastian could not have asked for.
“My lord?”
“Pack me a bag, Bernard. I am leaving town for several days. See to it that all of Laurel's belongings are brought here from Mystique.”
“Very good, my lord.”
As Bernard saw about making arrangements for his departure, Sebastian made several calls, pacing the length of his chamber like a caged animal. He could not reach Laurel by phone-- a frustration which left him feeling territorial and possessive -- and he was obliged to track her down through other means.
“Brother.” Isabella’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
When he turned to regard her, his eyes wore pinpricks of red in their centers.
The small sweeping train of her black evening gown whispered over the Persian carpet as she approached him at the fireplace. Long and straight, her dark hair plunged down her spine.
“Sebastian, this is dangerous,” she said. “How long do you think you can continue to hide the truth?”
Sebastian’s concern for Laurel made his tone sharp when he answered. “Isabella, not no--”
“Fratello, if the others find out, you will lose face. Our power will be in jeopardy and her life will be in danger. You have been fortunate so far, but it is only a matter of time." She rested her small hand on his arm, appealing to his sense of duty and responsibility.
Sebastian’s features displayed his tension in stark lines, making a muscle in his jaw twitch. He recognized the wisdom of her words. She said nothing he had not already agonized over.
“Our house has been in power too long to jeopardize it. Tell her and give her your mark, or you must let her go.”
Silence lapsed between them as they stood regarding one another, Isabella with sympathy in her eyes and Sebastian with tension along his shoulders.
His mark. His blood. She would be his thrall, bound by his blood to be loyal. Sebastian turned it over and over in his mind; an expression of distaste crossed his features.
“My lord, the car is waiting.” Bernard spoke into the silence, prompting Sebastian to move. Leaning forward, he kissed Isabella on either cheek. No words passed between them, but then none were required. They both knew she was right.
Chapter Six
Caleb listened to the exchange between Isabella and Sebastian from the hallway outside. Although their voices were muffled from the thick slabs of concrete that separated them, he had no trouble making out the words. So Sebastian was going after the girl. Their Prince meant to go coddle and mingle with mortals.
A part of him seethed inside at the insult he perceived in the action, and another part reveled in the fact that he'd been right. Sebastian was putting them all at risk by becoming so involved with the humans. Isabella seemed to agree on the point, from what he'd just heard, and he took advantage of the moment, bleeding through the shadows to appear behind her in the Prince's sanctuary.
“He is soft on this human woman. His weakness with her will bring shame to our house," Caleb said.
Isabella snapped her chin to her shoulder to fix him with a cool look. “Do not be insolent, Caleb. No matter what else, Sebastian would never allow that.”
He looked down at her from a height just over six feet. Dark brows pulled into a frown over a pair of moss green eyes. Stalking a half circle
around her, he ran a finger along the curve of his bottom lip.
"As the eldest, Sebastian should be setting an example. If anyone outside this house discovers he has broken one of the covenants, it could initiate a war."
“Your faith swings so easily the moment a question of his judgment arises. He will do what is right. He always has,” Isabella challenged him, lifting her chin.
Caleb's eyes narrowed. “I wouldn't have to be questioning my faith in him if he ruled like a Prince should. Personally, I have my doubts that he will act in the best interest of his kind after seeing him run off after this girl.” He flung a hand in a general direction but his point was clear. As Isabella's anger ignited, he felt her presence rise in the room.
“Have a care, Caleb, with the insults you are throwing around,” she said, a warning clear in her tone.
“I have a right to question his decisions-- as I noticed you did before he left. What was it you said, Isa? Our power will be in jeopardy, among other things. You are not the only one allowed to voice your discontent,” he said, snarling with indignation. Before she could reply, he sank into the same shadow and exited the Prince's sanctuary.
Stalking into the foyer, he walked out the front door and got into his car. It was still parked in the circular drive where he'd left it earlier. Cranking the engine over, he sped away from the manor and down the road toward the heart of Sperling.
After navigating the streets for a quarter of an hour, he parked along the curb before a quaint Victorian home with elaborate scroll work around the trim and dark windows. His senses told him there were no other vampires in the vicinity other than the one in the house, and that the closest mortal was a half block down, walking a dog.
The porch was cloaked in shadows, and rather than knock or ring the bell, he used them to enter the dwelling. Moonlight, filtered by shades, gave the rooms an eerie glow. He followed the scent of his brethren to a formal parlor lined with books and a fireplace that sat cold and unused.
Luceph stood there examining photos lined up along the mantle.
“He has just left for Kansas,” Caleb reported, standing behind a plush chair.
Luceph didn't immediately reply. He picked up one of the photos-- a mother, father and three kids—and studied it with his back to Caleb. Finally, he said, “He wasted no time. Did he say how long he will be gone?”
“Several days that I know of. And he ordered that her things be brought to the manor.” Annoyance made his words brisk. The thought of a mortal who wasn't a thrall actually living in the house sat ill with him.
Luceph set the photo down and turned to face him with his brows arched. “That's interesting, isn't it. I wonder if he is moving her in permanently.”
“He better not be,” Caleb said, frowning. “While it makes her an easy target, I dislike the thought of her roaming around at will.”
“What you need to do now, is go to this address and sit down with our brethren there. Begin to convince them, slowly, that they are better served to put their power behind you. These vampires are not as loyal to him as they could be, so it's a better place to start than with the ones in his inner circle.” Luceph moved across the room, extending a folded piece of paper.
Caleb accepted it and inclined his head. “I will. I have amassed quite a following already.”
“Hundreds of vampires might seem like a lot, Caleb, but you will need to command thousands when you take the reins of Europe. You see how many Sebastian has—and most of them are willing to bleed or die for him. First, take him down from the top. With his peers. And then go after whatever armies will not accept the change in sovereignty,” Luceph said.
Tucking the paper into his pants pocket, Caleb regarded Luceph with a determined expression. “I think Sebastian is doing most of my work for me. Even Isabella inquired about the girl tonight before he left.”
“Isabella is just watching his back. She will never turn on him or be anything but loyal. Don't waste your time trying to convert her,” Luceph said. “I met her, you know. The girl, I mean. Laurel. I wanted to see for myself what kind of mortal would capture Sebastian's attention so.”
“And what did you think? I've met her.” Caleb crossed his arms over his chest.
“I expected someone dripping with elegance and poise and sophistication. Imagine my surprise to find a waitress who seems more like a college student than a debutant. She's quite striking-- in a girlish, uninhibited sort of way.” Luceph grunted and slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
Caleb laughed. “I think several of us are surprised. She seems fairly tenacious despite her relative innocence. Sometimes I wonder how bad she'll crumple when she finds out what we are.”
Luceph hummed a thoughtful note. “I cannot say. Get back with me when you know more about how long he will be gone.”
“I will.” Caleb departed by the same means he entered, leaving the Prince alone with his thoughts.
Sebastian stalked through the doors of the hospital, the scent of bleach, blood and disease assaulting his senses. His presence commanded the attention of two families sitting in the waiting room, their gazes following him all the way to the information desk.
The elderly woman with coke-bottle glasses and accidental pink hair glanced up when he arrived at the counter.
Sebastian wasted no time with trivial conversation. "Dotty Mayfield's room, please."
He exerted his influence over her mind so that there would be no queries, no hesitation on her part.
"Second floor, room one-seventeen," she answered, a perplexed frown on her brow.
Sebastian pivoted away from the desk and toward the elevators. There were too many people around to use the shadows.
Stepping out on floor two, he turned right, sensing Laurel was somewhere down the hall in this direction. He could smell her scent in the corridor. Running a hand down his blue tie, he passed another, smaller waiting room filled with people and honed in on a room near the end of the hallway. More people clogged the doorway, hovering half in and half out.
Laurel stepped out just then, fingers rubbing her temple. She looked exhausted. Dark circles smudged the skin under her eyes. Glancing up, she caught sight of him and paused. Like she couldn't believe it was really him.
"Sebastian?"
He never stopped, never faltered. Isabella's words rang in his ears even as he enveloped her small body, drawing her to him. "I'm here. How is your mother?"
Quite a few of the people in the doorway were staring. Some were murmuring between themselves.
"She's out of surgery and the doctors say she'll be fine now. I'm so glad you came." She lifted her face to him, both arms wrapped around his middle.
"Good. I will make sure she has the best care, Laurel. When have you slept last, or eaten?" Sebastian was as concerned about Laurel as he was about her mother. She looked peaked, weak. He was ready to take complete control of the entire situation.
"I… don't remember. I'm okay though. They think she can probably go home in about a week. I'll stay here until then."
"Let me see to the arrangements. In the meantime, I'll have dinner brought for you and your family. We'll start there, alright?" He stroked a protective hand over her hair and cupped her chin. Her lips trembled when she smiled and her gratitude was evident in her eyes. In that moment, he thought he would have moved heaven and earth to please her.
Over the next several days, he arranged for steady meals to be delivered to her entire family and for extra seating to be brought into both waiting areas. Sebastian pulled strings so Dotty's room would be upgraded to a larger, private one. He met Laurel's entire family and found them to be sincere and friendly. The men all shook his hand and the women hugged him like they'd known him for years. Roy, Laurel's father, a weathered man with kind eyes and calloused hands, seemed overwhelmed with all Sebastian did for the Mayfield family.
And Dotty, bruised and bandaged, nevertheless managed to charm him with her courage and harmless questions.
It was Lau
rel Sebastian worried most over. The lack of appetite and fretting over her mother was hard to miss.
Also, it became exponentially more difficult to explain his absences in the daytime and he resorted to the explanation of phone calls or work. No one questioned him. It didn't make the lies more palatable. He didn't like leaving her, and disliked deceiving her over the reason even less.
On the seventh day, Dotty was released from the hospital. Of course it happened at noon when he'd gone to ground for the black sleep. Sebastian's people had found a nearby home to rent for his stay so that he could conduct his business or lure Laurel there for several hours of much needed sleep. It was safer for him in the ground, but the home and car rentals added convenience and believability to his story.
He arrived just after dusk in a vehicle with sleek lines and a growling engine. It was rural and rustic, the two story yellow farmhouse she'd grown up in, and he took pleasure in every room she showed him. Especially her bedroom where Gone with the Wind posters hung on the wall and The Wizard of Oz figurines littered her dresser. Nothing had been changed in her absence. He studied her high school photos with a sting of jealousy for the young man on her arm at the prom and smiled to himself at her cheer-leading picture on the back of her door. He thought it all enchanting for its simplicity.
Sebastian hadn't seen this side of mortal life in centuries.
When it was finally time to leave Kansas, he paid his respects to her parents and whisked Laurel away to the private airstrip where his plane was waiting. She fell asleep leaning against him on the ride and Sebastian regarded the dark sky out the small oval window, one arm draped around her thin shoulders.
Give her your mark, or let her go.
If he told her, if he brought her into his world filled with blood and death, he would be stripping the very innocence from her he admired. Would she leave him, if she knew? Would she despise him for leading her to believe he was a man like any other?
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