Sex, Lies, and Vampires do-3

by Кейти Макалистер

  Adrian made no comment, but his eyes followed my hands as I slid into the ankle-length silk chiffon skirt and matching beaded crochet sweater.

  Ten minutes later I had brushed my teeth (silently blessing Gigli for thinking of that necessity), combed my hair, and sat down to consult the book of charms she had given me earlier.

  "This is ridiculous," Adrian fumed as he paced by the couch where I sat. "It will not work. You will cease this immediately and let me do what I must. We have no time to waste on such foolishness."

  "It's not foolish. You're on the brink of reclaiming your soul—we're not going to risk losing it now." I turned the page, nibbling on my lower lip as I scanned the Latin text for something that looked like it would serve us. "Let's see… killing someone. Nope. Way too evil. Um… dismemberment. Ick. Turning victim into a wraith. What's a wraith? Is it bad?"

  Adrian nodded.

  "Bad bad, or just semi-bad?"

  "A wraith is a spirit that has been sent into limbo for eternity."

  "Ouch. OK, no go on the wraith curse. Hmm. Here's a charm to lift a curse that leaves the victim with the head of a dog and the body of a snake."

  I looked at Adrian. He rolled his eyes.

  "Right, that one's out as well. Oooh, here's something: a charm for lifting a curse that renders its victim helpless. Hmm. Doesn't sound like the person cursed is injured, just made helpless against the person who orders the curse. I bet that would work."

  I looked up as Adrian stopped in front of me, his hands on his hips. "Even if I agreed to allow you to use your power against the Eisenfaust member—which I have not—the fact remains that you cannot curse someone without invoking a servant of a demon lord, and I doubt if you have the strength or ability to control a demon."

  "I'm sure I don't," I said with a smile. "But you do! You can call up a demon for me, and I'll use it to curse the Eisenfaust guy."

  He shook his head before I finished the last sentence. "Dark Ones cannot summon demons."

  "They can't?" My hopes fell. I knew he was right, knew I didn't have what it took to summon a demon. If we didn't have a demon, I wouldn't be able to cast a curse, and that meant Adrian would end up putting himself at risk by having to turn a mortal. "Damn! Why not?"

  "Our bond to the demon lord is too great. Servants cannot summon other servants."

  I frowned, on the verge of throwing down the book and giving in to a good old-fashioned hissy fit when his words filtered through my frustration and disappointment. I leaped up from the couch, kissing the tip of his nose. "You're a genius!"

  He stepped back as I snatched the book in one hand and his satchel with the other. "Nell—"

  "Don't you see?" I stopped at the door to grab my coat. "You said yourself that I needed to have a servant of a demon lord to cast a curse. We both assumed that meant a demon, but until we lift that curse from you, you 're a servant of a demon lord! I can use you instead of a demon. Come on, the sun's down. Let's go find this Eisenfaust bully and turn him into a helpless blob of German Mafia jelly."

  Chapter Fourteen

  "You know, if I couldn't see for myself that it wasn't true, I'd say I was cursed."

  Adrian shook his head at the flight attendant's offer of a beverage and cocked an eyebrow at me when she moved off.

  "That whole nothing-turning-out-as-planned thing," I answered his silently questioning eyebrow. "First there was you—well, OK, I'm willing to admit that turned out better than I imagined."

  The grin that never failed to make my heart do back-flips curled his lips for a moment before he resumed his scan of the passengers on the British Air plane en route to London.

  "But then there was the cursing in Cologne." At Adrian's look of warning, I pushed up the armrest between us and slid my hand onto the hard muscle of his thigh. Two could play at the possessive game. Not that I'm blaming you, of course. You did your part perfectly, and I'm strangely pleased to know that, should the need ever arise to curse someone again, we're set, but that whole experience of Herr Baxton growing a third eye has given me the willies. You're sure it will go away?

  Adrian's hand covered mine, almost as warm and reassuring as his voice in my mind. I am certain that both the extra eye and the tail that were the result of your curse will disappear with time. The curse you cast was not a strong one, Hasi. It will dissipate in a few weeks.

  Good. I'd hate to think Hen Baxton would have to get a whole new wardrobe just because my cursing skills aren't terribly accurate.

  His laughter rumbled in my head as I snuggled into his side. The flight itself was uneventful despite a storm that followed us as we flew toward England. Adrian didn't seem to be much in the mood for conversation, his attention focused on making sure that no one had slipped past his guard. I understood he was worried about Sebastian and Christian finding us, but I wasn't overly concerned. Gigli had sent one of her henchmen along with us to the airport, and both he and Adrian had kept their eyes peeled for any vampires, but neither one spotted anyone suspicious. None of the travelers had paid any attention to us as we collected our tickets and waited to board the plane. The passports Seal had given us had been works of forged art, so perfect that not even the overly conscientious Cologne security had given them a second glance. I had to admit being a bit disappointed that we had no need for the hastily conceived cover story I prepared about who we were and why we were going to London, a story that involved a coffee pot left plugged in, a litter of newly born kittens, and a priceless Picasso, but the realization that we were, at long last, on our way soothed that minor irritation.

  "So, what now?" I whispered to Adrian less than an hour later when a tired flight attendant asked us to make sure our trays and seat backs were upright. Beyond the tiny airplane window, the lights of the London suburbs flashed beneath us. "We find Asmodeus, and we'll find Saer, right? Since you're working for him, you must know where Asmodeus is."

  Adrian's eyes went cold. "Yes. I know where he is."

  "Good. This is going to sound kind of odd, but where exactly does a demon lord stay when he's in London?"

  The plane dropped into its final descent, bouncing slightly when the wheels hit the tarmac. A few minutes later, everyone leaped to their feet and began tugging luggage from under seats and out of the overhead bins. Adrian leaned toward me to avoid being beaned by a woman with a large stuffed panda.

  "Since losing his source of power, Asmodeus has been bound to an ivory figure currently in storage at the British Museum."

  My mouth dropped open. "He's what?"

  Adrian's fingers closed around mine. You must be quiet, Hasi. For anyone to realize we are in England is a danger to us both.

  I scooted out of my seat as Adrian stood, his satchel slung over one shoulder as he waited for me to precede him. I hurried off the plane, smiling at the flight attendant as we left, pausing in the disembarkment area until Adrian caught up with me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout, but, Adrian, the British Museum?"

  He shushed me and nodded, hurrying us up the long corridor to the customs area.

  I grabbed his arm. There is a demon lord in the British Museum?

  Yes.

  Doesn't anyone notice ?

  He slid an irritated glance my way. He is bound to a figurine, powerless until the ring is returned to him. No, no one has noticed he is there.

  Oh. I showed my passport, chatted briefly with the passport control lady, and waited until Adrian did the same and joined me again before I asked, "What sort of figurine? One of those china shepherdesses with all the pink frou-frou and stuff?"

  "Hardly," he answered, his voice dry as we followed the signs to the train station beneath Heathrow. "This figure is ivory, from Toprakkale, in Urartu."

  "Urartu," I said, frowning as I dug around in my historian's memory.

  "Ancient Rusahinili. Eastern Anatolia." Adrian plopped a couple of coins in a machine and grabbed the two train tickets that emerged.

  "Oh, that's Turkey! Gotcha."

  "The statue is
of a griffin-headed demon, one of the figures used in an altar devoted to Asmodeus. Because of its nearness and the fact it had been consecrated in his name, he was bound to it when his ring was lost."

  "Huh. So he's stuck in the British Museum, powerless. Where's Saer, then?"

  "I suspect with his Beloved," Adrian answered as he shoved me toward a train that had just arrived.

  I was getting a little tired of being astonished by what he said, so I didn't stop and demand an immediate explanation. No, I held my tongue until we were settled in the back of the last car, then I asked in a casual, barely interested voice, "Your brother has a Beloved?"

  "He's found her, but they haven't yet Joined. At least they hadn't when I last heard of Saer." Adrian sat stiffly next to me, his eyes constantly moving around at the people filling the car. It was just before dawn, a fact that seemed to worry me more than Adrian, but he was focused on the occupants of the car. Most of the people were commuters clutching travel cups of coffee, blinking with bleary eyes at the morning paper.

  I put my hand on Adrian's and gave it a squeeze. "Angelpants, I know you're just doing the protection thing, but I really don't think you have anything to worry about here. No one knows we're in England, and quite frankly, I don't think anyone on this train gives a hoot about us."

  An eyebrow cocked as he slowly turned to look at me, his lips thinned. "Angel… pants?"

  I sighed and raised my hands in surrender. "I'm trying to find an endearment for you, but nothing seems to fit. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a love name for a vampire? You guys thrive on names like Betrayer and Spike and Vlad the Decapitator, none of which lend themselves to cute, adorable cuddle names."

  Adrian's eyebrow arched even higher. "I believe you are referring to Vlad the Impaler, the man later known as Dracula."

  "Whatever. My problem is that honey is too bland, and I don't like darling, and sweetie really is not you, so that leaves me with babycakes, angelpants, and love."

  "I choose love," he answered, trying to look stern and unbending, like a man feared for centuries as the Betrayer, but I saw the corners of his mouth quirk.

  "You know, the more you do that, the easier it'll get," I teased, leaning over to kiss the curved corners of his mouth.

  "I have not had much in my life to smile about," he admitted, his eyes starting to go dark with desire. Mindful of the passengers around us I moved my kisses to the safer region of his stubbly cheek.

  "I know you haven't, but that's going to change. You've got me now, and all my friends say I'm a wacky girl. I'm just what you need."

  He looked for a moment like he was going to argue that point, but stopped before he said anything. I leaned into his side, content to be there with him, the feel of him warm and solid next to me bringing me a sense of fulfillment and completeness I'd had no idea was missing from my life.

  So, was Vlad one of you guys?

  A Dark One? No.

  What was he, then? And why did Bram Stoker think he was a vamp?

  Dracula was a strigoi, a member of a rare blood clan. Strigoi ingest blood as sustenance by choice.

  Whereas you guys have to have it?

  Adrian's thumb brushed along my jaw in a tender gesture that melted my heart. Dark Ones cannot manufacture blood. We must absorb it from other sources, but we do not ingest it. The blood I take from you joins with my own to give me life.

  A little erotic shiver ran down my spine, but whether it was from the soft touch of his mind or the remembrance of just how exciting I found it to feed him, I didn't know. I did know that I had to stop thinking about it, or the early-morning commuters on the train to Oxford were going to get the show of a lifetime.

  "Let's back up a minute to your brother. Why would he not Join with his Beloved?"

  An interesting mixture of regret, pain, and something that looked very much like embarrassment passed over his face before he turned his head to look out the window. "Saer has always been determined to wield great power. I have done what I could to deny him the power he seeks, but I fear my reign of influence is at an end."

  I looked at him, for a minute confused. His jaw was tight, and his hands fisted, both indicators that he was revealing another facet of his character that he felt would show him in a bad light. I knew better—I'd seen into his heart, and I knew he was not a vindictive man.

  "You've done bad things in your time, Adrian," I said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. His body tensed as he slowly turned to look at me. I smiled, allowing him to see the love in my eyes. "But you are not responsible for them. You did not ask to be cursed by a demon lord. You do not take pleasure in the acts he's forced you to do in his name. You are not an evil man, so I know that you must have had a good reason for putting the stymie on your brother."

  He stared at me in disbelief for a moment, his eyes bright with astounded wonder that darkened into sadness. "You are the only person who has ever believed in me, Hasi. You are the only one who has not feared me. I swear by all the saints, if I could change the inevitable outcome of what must happen, I would. I would give the soul you have all but reclaimed for me in order to change my future, but it is not to be."

  I leaned forward to kiss him, changed my angle of attack, and flicked my tongue across the tip of his nose instead. He looked startled by the gesture, just as I intended. "You know, I've never been one to buy into that whole fate thing. I've always believed that life is what you make it, and as I fully intend to spend the rest of mine with you, I'd appreciate it if you weren't quite so doom-and-gloom and 'I am the Betrayer, I must perish!' and start thinking about ways to beat your brother, because I'm not giving up on you. On us. So let's talk about Saer and what his weak spots are. I understand that he wants power, and heaven knows he certainly has that with Asmodeus's ring, but what does his Beloved have to do with it? And why wouldn't he Join with her if it would give him back his soul?"

  Adrian sighed a long, put-upon sigh, one that had me smiling to myself. I knew how hard he struggled to maintain his bad-boy image, but I also knew that his Betrayer days were over. It was time he realized that he'd been dealt a bad hand, but now the deck had been reshuffled and I was dealing. "For a Dark One to Join with a Beloved means his life is bound with hers. Their souls are entwined and cannot be separated."

  I ignored the pointed look he gave me and nodded.

  "Thus any decisions he made would affect her, and vice versa. The type of power Saer seeks would require him to forfeit not only his soul, but that of his Beloved as well."

  "And he doesn't want to damn an innocent woman that way," I said, nodding again.

  Adrian shook his head. "I would like to believe that Saer could not hand over his Beloved, even without having Joined with her, but the truth is simply that only she can make the decision to submit to a demon lord. Saer, on his own, cannot force her."

  "Oh." I thought about that for a few minutes as the train stopped at a station, a couple of people leaving, but more getting on. Adrian peered at each person intently, relaxing only when everyone settled into their seats. "So he hasn't Joined with her because she won't give herself up to a demon lord, and Saer needs to be able to do that to get the power he wants. Got that. But why is he trotting off to see her now?"

  "He has the ring," Adrian answered grimly, glancing out the window. There wasn't any sun to be seen, it being a typical rainy English day, but the gray outside was lightening significantly. "He will Join with Belinda, then use the ring against her to force her into compliance with his plans. It is the only way he can do so."

  My heart sank. Not only had I screwed up royally in failing to rescue Adrian's nephew, now my stupidity had damned an innocent woman to an eternity as a demon lord's slave? "Crap!"

  "Exactly," he agreed, watching as the next station's advance warning signs flashed by. "We will get off here. I cannot risk being caught out in the full light of day."

  "Do you know Saer's Beloved?" I asked, more to distract myself from wallowing in guilt than becaus
e I really wanted to know. I followed Adrian off the train and through the small suburban station.

  He shot me an odd look as he pulled up the collar of his coat.

  "You called her Belinda," I pointed out. "I wondered if that meant you know her."

  "Yes, I know her. She is… she was… I mated with her. You will please go ask that taxi if he is free. If he is, I will join you and we will go to Belinda's pub. If we hurry, the light should not harm me."

  I grabbed his arm and shoved him into a corner of the room, out of earshot of the few people trickling in and out of the station. "You mated with her?"

  He frowned, just as I knew he would, but at that moment I wasn't overly concerned about his emotions. "Yes. Did you think I was a virgin?"

  "No, of course not, but you don't just blurt out something like that. And especially you don't use the word mated. It sounds so… so… animalistic."

  "It was animalistic," he answered, still frowning. "I thought at first she was my Beloved, but as soon as I merged with her"—I ground my teeth, pushing down hard on the need to rail at his cavalier manner of flaunting his ex-lovers at me—"I realized she was not. We engaged in sex for a few months. That's all there was to it."

  "New rule," I said, releasing his arm to shake my finger at him. "No introducing lovers without warning. No using the word 'mating' in a sentence mentioning said lover. And absolutely, positively no warm remembrances of your fun time in the sack with her!"

  "You are overreacting," Adrian said. "You were not a virgin, and yet I did not demand to know everything about the two men you were with before you gave yourself to me."

  "How do you know it was just two men?" I asked, momentarily distracted from my diatribe.