“What’s wrong?”
“It’s time to go before the council.”
Beck’s stomach dropped down to the vicinity of her shoes. Eva’s other hand covered Beck’s and she gave a slight squeeze of reassurance. “They aren’t as scary as they seem. You’re with Achilles. I’m sure everything will work out for the best.”
And as quickly as Eva had appeared, she vanished, as did her coffee and the rest of the beignets.
“Just keep quiet and let me do the talking,” Achilles instructed as they made their way toward the council chamber deep in the heart of the clan complex.
His words set her off in all the wrong ways, but deep down Beck knew it was sound advice. Never having met a vampire council she didn’t exactly understand how it all fit together with his world, now her world for the moment.
“Are they like the Supreme Court or something?”
“Similar. They guide all the laws of the council and share responsibility for administering those laws along with the laird of our clan, Roman Petrov.”
“So this isn’t something minor.”
“Hardly. The council only gathers to determine serious matters. Roman will be seated in the center with the other eight council members gathered around him.”
Beck swallowed. In school she’d been the quiet studious one, and had never been called to the principal’s office. Somehow just the sensation of being the root of serious trouble made her nauseous.
She got up and followed Achilles to the council chambers. At the entrance enormous, intricately carved black doors sported three red interlocked circles and were centered in a wall of chiseled black rock. The only light came from above, casting the faces of the massive guards dressed in black uniforms on either side in dark shadows.
Beck noticed each of the guards glance at Achilles and give him a barely perceptible nod of deference. He had said he was captain of security for the clan. Perhaps these men were under his command. If so, the fact that they respected him, despite his being called before a council for some supposed major infraction, spoke highly of him.
Achilles inhaled, his chest expanding, his shoulders pulled down and back, making him look even more imposing. He glanced down at her beside him. “Ready, Doc?”
Hell, no. But what choice did she have? The only reassurance she had was that he was right beside her, imposing, strong and definitely on her side. Beck nodded, her throat too thick to speak. She resisted the sudden urge to reach out and put her hand in his much larger one.
The guards pushed back the daunting doors and she walked in a step behind Achilles. High on the walls candles flickered in the ornately scrolled wrought iron candelabras, casting shadows on the crimson velvet that curtained large portions of the dark rock walls.
Nine carved cherry-wood chairs sat in a semicircle around a raised, black-tiled dais with an odd interlinked three-circle mark. The design’s red rock contrasted with the surrounding black stone. Beck looked deeply into the eyes of the vampires seated in each of nine chairs.
Several looked positively ancient with long white hair, thin and fine as candy floss, and deeply hooded red eyes hidden in folds of paper-thin skin. Others had pale eyes, that same shade of gray that had flashed in Achilles’s eyes. The effect was startling and more than intimidating. The air crackled with power.
At the center sat one of the three vampires who didn’t have odd colored eyes. Instead his eyes were so dark they were nearly all pupil, and seemed soulless to Beck. Maybe it’s because they all are soulless and undead, she thought. She choked a little, unable to stifle a cough that tickled at the back of throat.
Since he was in the middle, Beck guessed that the vampire with the intense dark eyes was Roman, Laird of the Cascade Clan. He sat at the center in a slightly larger chair, four council members in smaller matching chairs on either side of him. With a gliding motion of his hand, Roman indicated she and Achilles should step up onto the dais.
“We have heard evidence that your fledgling was made by the reiver known as Vane. She’s also been implicated in the development of a product intended to disrupt the creation of new vampires. With such affiliations, she’s a danger to our clan. She can’t be trusted.” His voice echoed in the chamber, reverberating in Beck’s chest and making her feel even more hollow inside. She was suddenly incredibly grateful that Achilles was standing there beside her. A golden knight amid a very dark assembly.
“With respect, my Laird, bloodline alone is not enough to condemn a vampire,” Achilles responded his tone firm but even. “She’d never even met Vane prior to the start of her transition. The ichor came to her through an anonymous third person and was only administered accidentally to her without her consent.”
“How do you know you can trust her?” One of the vampires with long white hair asked. He had gray eyes so pale they seemed nearly white.
Achilles shifted his stance, stepping slightly closer to her and turned to the older council member. “She’s mine.”
“That’s a bold statement coming from a mentor,” one of the red-eyed vampires said, his short dark hair making his skin seem all the paler.
“She’s mine to protect,” he amended, suddenly very aware of the eyes of the council boring into him as he stood in front of Rebecca. “Vane has no claim to her as a maker. He doesn’t even realize that his ichor is the one that was used in the original vaccine, let alone that it unintentionally caused Dr. Chamberlin to partially transition.”
“Partially?”
“My lords of the council, the transition wasn’t complete. The genetic manipulation of the ichor in Dr. Chamberlin’s experiments caused the beginning of a transition, but wasn’t complete enough for her to finish it. She required additional ichor.”
“And who donated this ichor to her?” Fury underscored Roman’s tone.
His gut curled in upon itself. Achilles knew his next words were as close to a confession of an imprint as he could come without spitting out the word. No matter how noble his intentions, if they wanted to excommunicate him from the clan, it would be fully within their rights.
“I did, my lords. It was that, or as a mentor watch my fledgling die.”
The council members bent their heads together deep in discussion, blocking their thoughts from him. Roman glanced at them all, waiting until their attention was once again fixed on the two standing on the dais. “As a mentor you are charged with doing all you can to protect and guide your fledgling in their transition and training. For this we approve the decision you made to give ichor to your fledgling. However, be aware that should an imprint form between the two of you, there will be a full council convened to discuss your excommunication from this clan.”
Achilles resisted the overwhelming urge to glance in Rebecca’s direction. “I am aware of that risk, my lords, and the consequences should I fail.”
Roman stood, the weight of his words spearing straight through Achilles to his most vulnerable part. “You may continue to train your fledgling, but be aware Vane will not rest until he has claimed her.”
The thought of Vane even glancing in Rebecca’s direction caused anger, hot and acidic, to well up within him. He closed his eyes for an instant. Despite Vane, he knew who the bigger threat was to his fledgling. Himself. At that moment he hated himself for his own weakness. Spartans did away with the weak.
If he allowed the imprint to fully form and she transitioned back into a mortal form, he’d never get her back again. He’d forever be a halfling. He’d be excommunicated. It made death look damn inviting.
“My lords, you know I have suffered for my past choices.” Two of the vampires with long white hair nodded knowingly. “I respectfully request that should it ever come to a point where you would decide to excommunicate me, that you would behead me instead.”
“No!” Rebecca shouted. It echoed in the great cavern of the council chamber.
He glanced at her only briefly. She had no idea what it meant to suffer as he had. She couldn’t possibly understand that beheadi
ng would be far kinder than slowly going insane with no hope, no love and no release of death to greet you.
Roman ignored Rebecca’s outburst. He stood, placing his palms together. “I shall grant your request, Captain. But you realize that if you should fail, the price shall be your head.”
Achilles nodded, placing his forearm, fisted close over his chest in a kind of salute. “Thank you for your kindness, my Laird.”
He pulled a sputtering Rebecca with him as he stepped down from the dais and exited the chambers. “Kindness? Kindness! He’s going to kill you if you screw up!”
He came to a dead stop and looked at her. “Then I’d better not screw up.” But a line across his throat burned even as he said the words, because he knew the imprint had already begun. Their only hope was that the good doctor would find a way to become mortal again.
Chapter 10
Later that afternoon they met in a large well-lit gym with old-fashioned wooden bleachers stacked high against one wall and a matted workout area spread over the highly polished wood floor. The only good thing was that unlike the high school gym of her memories, this one smelled of lemon wood polish rather than stinky socks and stale sweat.
For a moment Beck had a high school flashback, only back then there was no way she would have been alone with a guy this hot in the school gym—or anywhere else for that matter. She’d been the science geek. Unfortunately, this hot guy’s sole purpose was to make her hot and sweaty in a totally unromantic way.
“Now that you’ve transitioned and your powers have emerged, it’s time for me to train you,” Achilles said.
“Just a heads up, Achilles. I was lousy at sports, P.E. and everything else athletic. I don’t think I’m going to do any better at vampire boot camp.”
Achilles grinned as he pulled at the hem of his black T-shirt, yanking it off over his head in one fluid movement. Beck had only imagined what he’d looked like when she’d felt the rock hard strength beneath his clothes. But clearly her imagination wasn’t all that good. He looked even better. She sucked in a startled breath. God, he was sexy as hell.
“I don’t have to take off my shirt, too, do I?” she asked, her voice nearly squeaking, her mouth dry as cotton.
His eyes glittered in a way that spoke of pure male interest. “It would be better if you didn’t. We have lessons to focus on.”
Beck hopped from foot to foot in a slow jog, shaking out her arms. “What’s up first, professor?”
He glanced at her feet and she slowed to a stop. “As a vampire you move faster than any mortal.”
“Do we have to keep saying mortal? Why can’t we call people human?”
“Because technically vampires are human, too. The only difference is the genetic twist that makes us immortal.”
Beck nodded but she wasn’t paying all that much attention. She’d always been a sucker for a great set of shoulders and muscular arms. Achilles had both in ample amounts. “Fine. You were saying something about moving faster?”
Achilles rolled his shoulders to take the edge off. It did no good. Being in the training gym with her was a heady experience. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, exposing the elegant length of her neck and enticing curve where it smoothed into collarbone. The T-shirt she’d borrowed from Kristin outlined her breasts, dainty waist and the womanly flare of her hips, while the shorts gave him far too good a view of her long silky legs. Gods, she’d make a glorious vampiress.
His ichor moved in a quick rhythm through her veins. Her eyes dilated as her glance bounced from his torso to his eyes. The scent of her vampire pheromones shifted, the deeper jasmine scent becoming more pronounced. Looking at him half-clothed turned her on. Another measure of his reserve crumbled. Focus, soldier. It doesn’t matter if she likes what she sees, get back to the lesson. She is still a threat to you. He swiped his tongue hard across his upper gum line to soothe the ache of pressing fangs.
“To move faster, push yourself into the movement with focus.”
“Kind of like materializing objects?” She nibbled at the side of her bottom lip.
An image of kissing her rose crystal clear in his mind. He squeezed his hand into a fist banishing the image and tried to focus on her training.
“Correct with the same focus.”
“So then are you technically materializing yourself to a different place?”
“Must you analyze everything, woman? Can’t you just try it?”
“Yes, I must, and no, I need to understand it to do it.”
He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. Patience. He needed patience and perhaps an entire tub of ice cold water. “The mechanics are basically the same. You’re phasing, but it’s not the same as transporting.”
“Why?”
“Gods!” In a blink he was right up against her. “Perhaps we ought to try it another time. Clearly you aren’t ready.” The truth was he wasn’t prepared for the assault her very presence waged on his senses.
She gave him a wicked smile. “Really?” In a blink she was standing on the top of the empty bleachers. Her grin was wide, and her eyes bright as she punched the air in triumph with both fists, then shook her butt in a mini touchdown dance of her own. “That was a rush.”
He nodded in approval. “Sometimes there is no time to think, only time to act.”
He watched her move toward him, but it was only because he was a vampire that he glimpsed her quick actions at all. She stood before him now, her full lips bent into a small teasing smile that made him hard. Gods, preventing an imprint with her would be as easy as asking him never to drink blood again. In other words, totally impossible.
“Hey, I’m not even breathing hard.”
He brushed back a stray piece of hair that escaped from her messy ponytail and curled down the side of her face. “That’s because you aren’t breathing,” he said drily, releasing her hair.
“What else?”
He wanted to tell her that she was filling the air with vampire pheromones that were knocking him senseless. To tell her that all he could think of was hitting the showers with her in tow and rubbing her down with soap so he could feel the silky slide of it against her bare wet skin. But he didn’t dare. Control. Absolute control. Spartan control.
“You also aren’t aging.”
She slapped at his shoulder. “That’s not what I meant. I want to know what else I can do.”
“See the top of the bleachers?”
“Yes. I was just there.” She grinned with satisfaction and a bit of smugness.
“Let’s take a jumping lesson.”
He grabbed her hand in his. An electric arc sparked between them. Achilles tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder and harder. “Same focus, only this time picture your destination and think up.”
He crouched, the muscles in his legs coiling. She glanced at him and followed his example. “Ready?”
She nodded locking her gaze on his, the hazel a kaleidoscope of changing greens and browns bright with excitement. “On three. One. Two. Three.” He launched upward, and she easily followed. They landed together with a solid thud.
They straightened up and Beck let out a burst of excited laughter. “Okay, now, that, that was cool.”
“See? I told you being a vampire has its perks.”
She bounced up on the balls of her feet, enthusiasm vibrating in the air around her. “Can you imagine the implications of what this could do for people if you just knew what genomes were responsible? This could revolutionize medicine.”
Rebecca’s mind was as alluring as the rest of her. Her intelligence, her desire to know all the answers—no matter what the subject—fascinated Achilles. She was forever thinking, analyzing, prodding and probing. He’d only known one other woman this analytical, this focused. Rebecca was just like Ione in that way.
He shoved the insane comparison away.
“Now let’s work on your hand-to-hand combat skills.” Gods. He was going to have to touch her for this. Touch her silky skin,
brush against her soft breasts, position her sleek body.
Rebecca heaved a great sigh. “Seriously? When am I ever going to need to fight in hand-to-hand combat?”
He jumped down to the floor mats and she followed, but before she could straighten up from her crouch, he’d rolled her and pinned her to the smooth cold mats. Her hands were locked above her head and her hips were tucked beneath his thighs.
“You think another vampire isn’t going to fight you? There’re plenty more reivers where Vane came from. And they won’t stop because you’re a fledgling. Or give a damn that you’re part of the clan. They’re out to get what they want, no matter what.”
Beck was breathing hard, more out of the sexual hormones spiking in her system than because she actually needed the oxygen. She lifted her hips hard trying to dislodge him. No response. Nothing. Nada. Well, that was if she didn’t count the rock hard erection she’d definitely felt. Even with her newly found vampire strength, she wasn’t a match for a centuries-seasoned warrior trained old school. But she had one thing he underestimated—pure twenty-first-century spunk.
She watched his mouth as he spoke, wanting desperately to kiss him. But he’d made it plain he was only her mentor. The council had made it plain that an imprint between them was unacceptable. Kissing him would only make her want more. Things he couldn’t give her.
He looked down at her, his face reserved except for his eyes, which smoldered with longing. “You can’t leverage me off you. Use what you have.”
“You’ve got my hands pinned. What do want me to do?” she asked with sarcasm. If she did reach up and kiss him, that would certainly throw him off balance. God knew it had the last time she’d done it.
“What would you do if I were Vane?”
“That blond red-eyed jerk?” All thoughts of kissing fled.
Achilles nodded.
Flick. Her razor sharp fangs descended and she whipped her head to the side to tear at his wrist with her mouth. He simply moved his hand and hers out of her range as if he’d anticipated the move.
The Vampire Who Loved Me Page 11
