Radje’s gaze burned with the promise of vengeance, but both of them knew it was futile. He wasn’t strong enough to break Mencheres’s hold, and the laws were on Mencheres’s side. He allowed himself another moment to enjoy Radje’s helplessness before releasing him from the hold of his power.
As soon as he could move, Radjedef backed away from Kira as though she were a snake. Then he caught himself, glaring at both of them.
Mencheres smiled. Kira hadn’t moved since she’d detached her arm from Radje’s frozen grip, showing more poise than the ancient Law Guardian. From Radje’s furious expression before he schooled his features into blankness, he knew he’d been shown up by her.
Radjedef flicked his hand in a dismissive gesture at Kira. “I’ve seen enough of her.”
Mencheres glanced at the house, and Kira turned around without a word, leaving the garden. His respect for her grew once again. If she’d panicked before, or argued with the Law Guardian over his deliberate, baiting treatment of her now, Mencheres might have been forced to punish her—which was what Radjedef wanted. But her poise left Radjedef with nothing to do but simmer in his own impotence. The very laws he could have invoked to punish Kira kept him from being able to do anything now.
And once Kira was safely back home and Mencheres was gone, both of them would be forever past Radjedef’s bitter reach. Mencheres smiled again at his old enemy.
“You know the way out, Radje.”
Chapter 6
Two days passed. Kira watched more TV than she’d seen in the last month, plus sunned by the pool, something she hadn’t done in, well, she couldn’t remember how long. Who would’ve thought this was how she’d spend her time as a prisoner in a house with vampires? Still, she didn’t have much else to do. Every time she left her room, she knew she was being politely shadowed by Gorgon, which was equal parts unnerving and annoying. She hadn’t seen Selene, Kurt, or Sam since that afternoon in the kitchen. Kira hoped they hadn’t gotten into trouble for talking to her. None of them had seemed to be afraid of their circumstances, but again, Kira had only seen the surface of life among the undead. Much more might be lurking within the depths, and chances were, a lot of it wasn’t pretty.
Kira also hadn’t seen Mencheres since the day he’d had that ominous visitor. She shivered at the memory of Radje, as Mencheres had called him. So much for her thought that all vampires gave off a calming aura as part of their camouflage. As soon as she’d seen Radje, her instincts went into overdrive with alarms of “danger, danger!” Her short time in the garden with him had been like standing near a rabid pit bull—any sudden moves, her gut warned her, would result in a vicious attack.
And that was before the cold-eyed bastard had tried to bite her. Kira was beyond relieved that Mencheres made good on his vow that no one could touch her while she was with him. When Radje stared at her while Mencheres somehow managed to freeze him into place, she’d felt waves of malevolence pouring off him. He hadn’t just wanted to bite her, she could tell. He’d wanted to hurt and humiliate her even though she was someone he’d never met before.
Even though she hoped never to see him again, coming across Radje had relieved some of Kira’s anxiety. Even staring at him from her perch in the tree before his vicious display in the garden, something about Radje had put her off. That proved her instincts could still transmit danger warnings, even with vampires. It gave Kira hope that Mencheres wasn’t just lying to her in anticipation of the day when he’d use her memories to enslave her. After all, he shouldn’t care if Kira liked her captivity or not. Someone as fast and strong as a vampire didn’t need to worry about consent.
It might be frightening to admit it, but Kira was already powerless when it came to her circumstance. She’d just been deluding herself by thinking that Mencheres would need to control her mind to force her to remain here.
On the plus side, she’d finally managed to reach her sister on the phone. Kira told Tina the same cover story Gorgon claimed to have given Frank—that Kira was home sick with the flu. Tina had been concerned, but both of them knew she couldn’t risk visiting. Not while Kira supposedly had a contagious virus that would weaken Tina’s already-compromised immune system. It didn’t escape Kira’s notice that each of Tina’s laughs ended on a coughing fit, and her voice was thicker, her words heavier. At twenty-nine, Tina was already in the autumn of her life expectancy, as unfair as that was.
The thought was so depressing that it drove Kira out of her room. She’d just spoken to Tina yesterday, but now she wanted to talk to her again. She needed to assure herself that for the time being, Tina was still here, still part of her life.
Kira went downstairs, looking for Mencheres or Gorgon. If she just picked up a phone without checking with one of them, for all she knew, alarms would go off. Then they might not believe that she’d been innocently trying to reach her sister and think she’d decided to call 911 after all. Annoyance flared in her. She might understand why vampires would be protective of their secret existence among humans, but she was still the one paying the price for that for the next few days. At least, she hoped that was all the time she had left to pay the price for unwittingly discovering their existence.
She reached the first floor and did a quick check of the living room and kitchen. No one around. Next Kira went out onto the patio, but the pool area was empty. So was the garden. Kira came back inside, about to check the laundry room next, when a voice right behind her made her jump.
“Were you looking for someone?”
She whirled around, taming her galloping pulse, to see Mencheres. He hadn’t been here a second ago, as if she needed a reminder of how blazingly fast he was.
“I should put a bell on you,” Kira said before she could think.
Instead of being annoyed or confused, Mencheres tilted his head. “Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”
So perfectly formal. So rigidly in control of the situation at all times—except for that morning at the warehouse. Which was the real Mencheres? Do you really want to know? an inner voice questioned.
No, she probably didn’t. Especially not in these circumstances, when she was his pampered prisoner.
“I wanted to call my sister again.” A part of her hated to ask permission to do such a simple thing, but the other part reminded her that if Mencheres were a more ruthless person, she wouldn’t even be alive. Dead investigators tell no tales of vampires, Kira thought wryly.
“Certainly,” Mencheres said, as if there was never any chance that he would refuse.
Kira released the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. What a strange scenario this was, being a captive who was treated like a guest—most of the time. Radje’s hawkish features flashed in Kira’s mind. She hadn’t been treated like a guest in front of him. In fact, she’d felt like more of an insect under Radje’s cold, pitiless gaze.
“Will you be expecting that vampire to return anytime soon?” Kira asked, phrasing her words carefully.
Mencheres arched a brow. “I assume you’re not speaking of Gorgon?”
“No, I’m talking about the one with the dark straight hair who looks a little like you.”
“Radje,” Mencheres murmured. “No, I do not expect him to return here in the near future.”
“Good,” Kira muttered. “He gives me the creeps.”
A tiny smile touched his mouth. “Yet more proof that your youth doesn’t preclude you from being wise.”
Kira felt an answering tug of her lips. “I’m thirty-one. In my species, once a female is over thirty, she’s considered to be well on her way to middle age.”
Mencheres laughed, startling Kira, and the sound rolled along her spine in a shivery caress. It was the first time she’d seen him laugh, and his relaxed expression combined with his wide smile changed his features from striking into stunning. God, you’re gorgeous, she thought, glad the vampire couldn’t hear that in her mind—or know how hard it was for her not to stare.
“Such foolish human notions that
women are only beautiful in the first flush of youth. My wife was thirty-five in human years when we married, and she was ravishing . . .”
Just as abruptly, his laughter vanished, that familiar look of impassivity settled over his face.
Kira reached out to touch Mencheres’s arm. “Radje said that your wife was dead. I’m sorry.”
A strange, sad smile flickered on Mencheres’s mouth. “As am I, but not for the reasons you think.”
A dozen questions instantly sprang to Kira’s mind at that mysterious comment, but Mencheres changed the subject in the next moment.
“Come, place your call now. The library should be the most comfortable for you.”
You don’t like that topic at all, do you? Kira thought, her investigative instincts still urging her to find out more about the obviously unusual circumstances surrounding Mencheres’s late wife. But Kira tamped them down. She wasn’t on a case here; she was a captive, albeit a well-treated one. If she asked Mencheres about his wife, and he became defensive, he might not let her call her sister. Tina ranked higher than Kira’s curiosity.
“The library sounds good to me,” was all Kira said, and let him lead the way.
M encheres waited in an adjoining room as Kira made her call. He’d let her have the illusion of privacy by leaving her alone in the library, but both of them knew he was listening.
He marveled at how Kira’s voice changed when she spoke to her sister. It became softer, gentler, with an undertone of protectiveness. Kira’s love for her sister shone through each syllable, and for these brief times that Mencheres listened to their conversations, that love was strangely soothing to him, even though he wasn’t the recipient of it.
Why a woman who would soon have no memory of him could affect his mood with just her voice was bewildering. Soon Kira would be gone, and once she was, Mencheres intended to live only until he could find another convenient way of getting himself killed. He should be spending his final days with the vampires he’d sired, or old friends, or even by asking forgiveness from his co-ruler for the manipulation that had caused such a breach between him and Bones.
Instead, he found himself staying in this house with his thoughts occupied by Kira, even though he tried to give her as much space as possible. It must be her novelty that made her fascinating to him. Kira had known nothing about him when she rushed to his aid at the warehouse, and what she had learned about him since then should only have terrified her. Yet the look Kira had given him the other day when he crouched over her by the pool had been filled with heat. Then she’d casually admitted to her attraction to him, as if that hadn’t leveled him where he stood.
It made no sense. Since Mencheres had wanted as much solitude as possible in his last days, but couldn’t be completely alone without arousing suspicion, he’d chosen this small, modest house. Gorgon and the humans had been given strict instructions not to tell Kira anything about him, so Kira couldn’t know about his status among vampires, how rare his abilities were, that his wealth was far beyond Fortune 500 standards, or any of the other things that had enticed so many others before her. That she would find him desirable based on mere flesh and bone, nothing else, made him equal parts enticed and incredulous.
If things were different, Mencheres might have acted on the draw he felt toward Kira, the first woman in thousands of years—possibly ever—to want him without ulterior motives. But his time was almost finished.
Of course, Kira’s flattering comments could also have been an attempt to sway him to release her. Kira hadn’t hinted at any desire for him since that day by the pool. It was entirely plausible that she’d first sought to charm him into letting her go, realized it wouldn’t work, and thus ceased. Mencheres felt a pang as he contemplated that. Yes. That was far more likely.
“Treatments again?” Kira’s voice interrupted his musings. It sounded like she took in a deep breath as her pulse sped up. “Well, those do help, and I should be able to go with you . . . I told you, I feel better, and I’ve been on antibiotics for days now . . . Yes, my phone’s still acting up at home . . . well, I fell asleep and forgot to charge my cell. Sorry I missed your call. I’ll call you tomorrow. Promise. Love you, Tiny-T.”
A click signaled that Kira had hung up, but Mencheres stayed where he was. The sudden raggedness of her breathing said she was fighting back tears. Kira hadn’t been prone to overreactions thus far, so her sister must be quite ill. Mencheres felt a twinge of guilt that he forced back. Whatever her sister’s condition, it didn’t sound as if it were new, and Mencheres couldn’t let Kira leave with her memories intact. With luck, she would only be here another day or two.
“I’m done now,” Kira called out, her voice throatier than normal.
Mencheres rose, glad she hadn’t tried to covertly make another call. That showed caution and intelligence, two things undervalued in modern times, from what he’d observed. When he came into the library, Kira’s eyes were dry; but a frown stitched into her forehead, and her scent was deeper with worry.
He hadn’t tried mesmerizing her in the past two days. Maybe enough time had passed that he could erase her memories, even if he still couldn’t hear her thoughts.
“Kira, I will attempt to breach your mind again. If I am successful, you can return home tonight.”
She gave him a glance that was both hopeful and wary. He found that he had mixed feelings about this as well. Logic stated that the faster Kira was gone, the better it would be for both of them, but despite that, he knew he would . . . miss her.
The stupidity of missing a woman who wanted nothing more than to forget she’d ever met him was so enormous, he’d find it funny if the jest weren’t on him.
“All right,” Kira said, standing up.
Emerald blazed from his eyes as he locked them with her light green ones, compelling her not to look away.
“Kira.” Her name was barely a whisper, but seething energy filled that single word. “Come to me.”
She did, taking the hands he held out to her. Her heartbeat, breathing, and blood rushing through her veins were a symphony of sounds calling to him. But her mind remained quiet, secluding its secrets behind a wall he couldn’t penetrate.
“Open your mind to me,” he breathed, releasing more of his power.
“I’m . . . trying,” she gritted out, her hands flexing in his grip.
That mental wall flickered, but didn’t fall. Mencheres released her hands and stepped back.
“It’s still too soon,” he said, more disturbed by the knowledge that he was relieved he wouldn’t need to say goodbye to Kira tonight than by his inability to breach her mind yet again.
“It’s been almost five days since that morning at the warehouse,” Kira said, spinning around in frustration. “Five days of being trapped here. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Come on, let me go.”
She had no qualms about wanting to forget him forever—or at best, never to see him again. If only he felt the same single-minded detachment over her.
“Your sister believes you to be recuperating from the flu, and your job is secure. I know this situation is not of your choosing, but it will be over soon.”
Kira’s fists clenched, and her natural sweet scent soured. “My sister isn’t well.”
“Is she in danger of dying in the next few days?” Mencheres asked bluntly.
Kira hesitated, biting her lip. “No.”
“Then I cannot justify the risk.”
“Look, she’s scared!” Kira snapped. “I don’t suppose that happens very often with vampires, but it does with the rest of us. These hospital stays are hard on Tina. They beat on her back to loosen the mucus in her lungs, then give her treatments to help her breathe easier. She’s my little sister, I told her I’d be there for her.” Kira’s voice wavered, becoming huskier. “I told her she could always count on me.”
Mencheres closed his eyes. Kira didn’t know it, but loyalty was one of the qualities he prized most. And he understood, all too well, the sens
e of responsibility Kira felt toward someone she considered hers. He studied her strong, lovely face and the curve of that stubborn jaw. Any manipulations Kira might have tried on him were justified. Mencheres would have done the same himself, if he were her.
“There is one thing that might hasten my ability to erase your memories.”
Kira’s expression became hopeful and she took a step toward him.
“What? Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
Would she still say that once she heard what it entailed? “Your blood would give me greater power over you. For humans with very strong minds, drinking them is sometimes necessary before they can be mesmerized. You are very strong-willed, Kira. Perhaps more than my blood in your system is preventing me from manipulating your mind.”
Kira paled as she digested what she’d have to do. Mencheres watched her, keeping his expression blank. Was her protectiveness for her sister greater than her fear of offering her throat to a vampire?
She swallowed hard, then gave a short nod. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
He was surprised by her quick capitulation. “You realize this means I will bite you and drink your blood?” he asked, just in case she hadn’t understood.
Kira let out a small laugh. “You’re a vampire. I didn’t think you’d use a needle and a straw.”
“You’re not afraid?” he challenged.
Her pale green gaze was steady even as her pulse began to race. “You promised not to harm me. So then I have nothing to be afraid of.”
Loyalty. Bravery. Determination. Kira’s attributes were like a torch shining on all his dark years of ruthlessness. Long-dormant emotions rose in him, and his eyes flared green. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d met someone of her quality, and her blood would become part of him when he drank from her. When Kira pulled back her hair and came to stand only inches away, he found that he wanted her blood inside him so badly that he dared not touch her lest he injure her with his urgency.
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