by Lori Devoti
Timur stopped outside a room, his fingers grasping the polished brass door handle. Why wasn’t he opening it? Her gaze met his and she found that same look of concern and sadness in his eyes. Either he cared a lot about his high guard or he wasn’t telling her something.
“If you don’t mind?” she said, intimating the door.
He hesitated a moment, enough to make her nerves kick in again, and then opened the door.
The room was darker than Timur’s office. She stepped inside and heard the door close behind her. To her left was a wide bed with a single lamp lit beside it. There was a bowl on the stand with it and several stained rags.
The air smelled of blood as she breathed it in.
She frowned and walked towards the bed, her throat constricting as the man lying in it rolled his head to face her and came into view.
Now everything made perfect sense—the looks people had given her, the sorrow in Timur and Tynan’s eyes, and the reason she had been called.
Marise swallowed, standing on trembling legs and no longer able to control her emotions.
“Jascha?”
Chapter Two
Dull violet eyes greeted her as his heavy lids opened. He blinked languidly and with too much effort for her liking. Blankets covered him but she could see how badly injured his arms, neck and face were. A thick bandage wrapped around his throat, the side of it stained with dark blood, and gashes covered his arms, long lacerations that were edged with angry red and were weeping.
Marise shook her head and fought against the feelings inside her and the tears rising into her eyes.
“Jascha?” she whispered his name again, wishing now that she could hear his voice and have him tell her that Timur was overreacting—he was going to be fine.
He wasn’t going to die.
Before she had time to stop herself, she was kneeling beside the bed, his right hand held firmly in hers and her cheek pressed against it. She closed her eyes and tears escaped them when his fingers closed around hers.
She wanted to ask who had done this to him. He was strong, far stronger than she had been, and yet someone had hurt him. No, this wasn’t hurting. This was butchering. Anger boiled up inside her. Someone had butchered him and left him to die. Death could be as swift for a vampire as it was for a human. Whoever had done this knew what they were doing and they had made sure that Jascha wouldn’t die that night.
This was a message. Someone was telling her species that they were stronger than them.
Her jaw tensed and she growled.
Someone was going to pay.
Jascha’s fingers flexed weakly against hers and he muttered something that made no sense. She raised her head, taking in the extent of the damage done to his face. It was covered in rich bruises and fine cuts. His split lip and swollen eye made her heart ache for him.
His eyes met hers, pupils dilating and contracting as he struggled to focus.
A tiny frown made his eyebrows shift.
“Mari?” he breathed so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.
The sound of that name brought back all the pain and she dropped his hand, standing and distancing herself from him as her heart broke all over again. She turned her back on him while she pushed all of her feelings back down inside and tried to lock them away in her heart.
“Mari?” he whispered again.
She turned on a pinpoint and stared at him with cold eyes.
“My name is Marise,” she said and steeled herself against the darkness that entered his eyes. It was what he deserved. She couldn’t remember exactly what had been said during the fight that had parted them but she still felt the pain each day.
She moved to the foot of the bed, buying the time she needed to get back in control of the situation and herself.
He sighed.
It said so much.
She knew she wasn’t the only one who had been hurt that day. They had both said things and done things that were the undoing of what they’d had together. Only she had accepted the position as Law Keeper and ran away, and he had been willing to heal the breach.
She folded her arms across her chest.
“If you’re up to it, I’d like your opinion on what happened the night you were injured.”
He gave her a look that conveyed exactly what he was thinking. He was right. It was cold of her to stand here, distant and uncaring while he suffered, but that was what a Law Keeper did. They didn’t mix business with pleasure. Pleasure was a thing of the past for them. To hold this position meant being impartial about the bloodlines and being emotionless. Emotions got in the way and clouded your judgement.
Like hers were right now.
Marise turned her back again and paced across the room. She didn’t need the distance it brought—she needed the darkness. It robbed her sight of its sharpness and meant she couldn’t see his injuries so clearly.
“A simple nod or shake of your head will suffice. That is, if you can manage it?”
Jascha gave her a tiny nod and grimaced, his hand coming up to touch his throat. His eyes closed and she could see the pain in his face and feel it in her blood. She had forgotten the wound there. A part of her said to give him time to recover before questioning him, but the rest overruled it and said to get it over with and get out before the feelings stirring inside her became dangerous.
He was a soldier. She was sure he understood. She needed answers for her investigation and so she could judge whether this case required a Law Keeper or not. This couldn’t get personal. She couldn’t go there again.
“Do you think there’s a reason you were left alive?” Marise held the tremble from her voice so he wouldn’t know how much the sight of him so injured was affecting her.
He nodded.
“I think so too. Timur hasn’t a clue what happened. You do though, don’t you?”
He nodded again and swallowed with a grimace.
She moved a step closer so he could see her better through his one good eye, but kept far enough away that she couldn’t clearly see his wounds.
“Who did this to you? A vampire?”
A shake of his head, tiny and almost imperceptible.
“I didn’t think so. Were they human?”
He hesitated. There was uncertainty in his eyes.
“Niet,” he said, voice strained but the accent that had always melted her was still there.
It was just like him to fall back on his native tongue. She hoped he would keep his answers simple. She never had grasped the language.
“Did they look human?”
“Da,” he croaked and rubbed his throat again.
Marise stepped closer and had to look away when fresh blood seeped into the bandages around his neck. Her stomach roiled at the thought that she was hurting him by making him speak. She wanted to ask him to stick to nodding or shaking his head, but she couldn’t let him see how much it was all affecting her.
“Do you think they were demon or were they wholly human?”
“Ya ne pani’mayu.” His voice sounded tight and he pushed himself up as he coughed.
Blood trickled down from the corner of his mouth.
“Damn it, Jascha! I told you to shake or nod.” She stormed across the room and sat down on the bed beside him. Her hand was against his cheek, holding him and forcing him to look at her. Everything she was ready to say slipped away and instead she wiped the blood off his chin with her thumb.
She took her hand away from him, gathering herself while she wiped her thumb on the dirty cloth beside the bed.
There was a canister of blood and a stained glass pushed to the back of the small table. They were feeding him old blood? How was he supposed to heal? Anger stirred inside her and she shot a black look at the door. She could sense Timur outside with the guards. Was Tynan there too? Surely he wouldn’t let Jascha suffer like this?
Marise undid the buttons on her jacket sleeve and pushed it up her arm before setting to work on the buttons of her shirt cuff. She rolled it up and
tugged it out of the way.
Thinking about what she was doing, she justified it by telling herself that a dead witness was of no use to her. This was about the case. This wasn’t personal.
She extended her claws and pressed one into her wrist.
Blood beaded against her skin.
This wasn’t personal.
She looked at Jascha. He was lying back on the bed again, eyes closed and his jet-black hair falling loose from his ponytail. Rogue strands of it criss-crossed his face. She ignored her temptation to clear them away and extended her arm to him.
His nostrils flared.
His eyes rolled as he opened them and gave her an incredulous look.
She moved her arm closer, frowning at him, but silently pleading him to drink. Without fresh blood, he would never heal. Her blood would suffice until she could get Tynan to hunt for her. Was there any way she could have words with Timur about the canister of blood without it looking as though she was bringing her feelings into this?
Her eyes widened when Jascha’s mouth latched onto her wrist and she gasped when he bit her. It was the last thing she had been expecting. She half closed her eyes when he began to drink, stirring all too familiar feelings inside of her. He was the last person to do this to her. She looked at his face, studying him and taking everything in.
Was it really fifty years since she had seen his face?
No. She saw it each day in her dreams. He was always with her. She was just too stubborn to admit it.
His drinking slowed and before she knew it, it was over and he was licking the wound on her arm. She held it there for a moment when he stopped, the smallest part of her heart hoping he would continue. He didn’t. He lay back on the bed, his eyes still closed.
“Jascha?” she said and he looked at her. It seemed to take a lot of effort. Her blood was probably making him drowsy as it worked its way into his body. It wouldn’t quicken his healing as fresh human blood would, but it would restore some of his strength, more so than the stored blood he had been given. “Was it a vampire hunter?”
“Da,” he said.
“But not one like we’ve met before?”
“Niet,” he whispered and closed his eyes again.
Marise smiled now that he couldn’t see her. Ghosting her fingers down his cheek, not brave enough to touch him, she looked at him a moment longer and then rose from the bed.
“I’ll arrange for fresh blood for you. I have more questions I need to ask. If you remember anything, please ask for me.” She hated how cold she sounded.
Rolling her sleeve down, she stopped when she saw the marks on her wrist and stared at them. They were shallow and it wasn’t because he was weak. It was because he hadn’t wanted to hurt her. She ran her fingers over the marks and then buttoned her sleeve, covering it with her jacket.
Marise walked to the door, paused and looked back at him. It hurt to see him, to have the memories of their time together come back, and to see him in so much pain. She hurt so much. He had taken her feelings and smashed them. That much she could remember. They had broken each other’s heart that night.
She wanted to say something more but couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. She had already brought enough emotion into this investigation. If anyone found out, she was likely to be punished.
She reached out behind her and took hold of the door handle.
Turning, she opened the door.
She hesitated a moment when he spoke.
“Da svi’daniya, lubov moya.”
Marise held the smile inside on hearing such familiar words. Was she still his love?
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and closed the door behind her.
She killed all her feelings the moment the door clicked shut and turned to look at the people in the corridor around her. The two guards were still there and she didn’t recognise either of them. They looked wet behind the ears. Younglings no doubt.
Her eyes sought out Tynan but he was nowhere to be seen so they settled on Timur.
“I will have more questions for him come sunset tomorrow. For now, he must rest. His injuries are extensive, severe enough that a full interrogation may be the end of him. If that happens, I will have no answers to support my involvement in this situation and you will have no Law Keeper to protect you from this human.”
Timur’s eyes widened, showing the white around his irises and exposing his fear to her again. He fidgeted and she frowned. He was petrified of the thought of this human coming after him. Having seen what this person had done to Jascha, she could understand that fear, but as lord of his bloodline, he shouldn’t allow himself to be ruled by it. He was safe in his home. Or did he think that he wasn’t?
“I will speak with the other guards and see what they know,” she said, hiding her true intention. She had to find Tynan. It was unlike him to leave Jascha suffering like this. She wanted to know what had happened to change him. “Ensure that only your guards are allowed out to hunt for the house.”
Timur swallowed, hard enough that she saw it.
“What is it?” She didn’t give him an inch as she stepped towards him, straightening to her full height and staring down into his eyes. He was still hiding things from her and all the secrecy was starting to annoy her. How was she supposed to do her job if she was being kept in the dark about things?
“No one is allowed to hunt,” he muttered under his breath.
She frowned, her eyes narrowing.
“Are you insane?” She was tempted to take hold of his shirt collar and rattle him. Either that or she was going to throttle him. She took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm. If he saw how shaken she was by the sight of Jascha so hurt, he wasn’t going to give her the respect she needed and deserved.
“They are still out there.”
Marise ignored his worried look and the childlike pleading in his eyes.
“You are weakening your house. You are letting Jascha die!” She clenched her fists and struggled to rein in her anger.
A dark look entered his eyes and for a moment she thought he was going to remind her who ruled their bloodline. She couldn’t believe how weak he had become. She couldn’t believe that he was risking the lives of everyone in his house because he was frightened of a vampire hunter.
“I am sending your guards out to hunt whether you like it or not. This house needs fresh blood. You have to keep your people strong or they will be lambs to the slaughter should this vampire hunter attack with allies.” She didn’t wait for a reply. She turned and stormed down the hall towards the guardroom.
Fury fuelled her as she took the steps down into the basement level of the house. It had been given over to the servant ranks and the guards long ago, before she was turned. The guards had their restroom down here and the training rooms. She was sure she would find Tynan there. How could she have thought that it had been his choice to feed Jascha old blood? She should’ve known that he would never willingly allow Jascha to die like this. Timur had effectively tied his hands behind his back and forced him to watch his brother die.
Pushing the door to the guardroom open, she strode in and scanned the faces. She recognised some of them. They all looked stunned to see her. Before she could locate Tynan, he was standing beside her, silent as always. She didn’t acknowledge him, instead she kept her eyes fixed on the others.
“You are to hunt in groups. Bring fresh blood to the house. Timur will not punish you. I have seen to that.” She held their gazes and then whispered out of the corner of her mouth to Tynan, “I need a word in private.”
He nodded and left the room. She waited a moment and then followed him out into the hall. Looking around, she caught a glimpse of him heading into the armoury. She casually walked to it, her whole body shaking with the release of emotions that the idea of speaking to him brought. She knew that with him, she had no chance of remaining cold and business-like. Her heart said that he would never tell anyone about how she acted in private with him, and it seemed t
o give her feelings free rein to do as they pleased. She couldn’t control them no matter how hard she tried.
It was a dangerous way for her to feel.
“I need a moment,” Tynan said as she entered the room.
The guards gathered there nodded and left without questioning Tynan’s order. He must have gained rank in their time apart. Her eyes traversed the room while she waited, taking in the assortment of swords, spears, bows and axes that lined the dark walls.
She had never liked it in the armoury. It was gloomy and reminded her of death. Her family never took up arms lightly, so being assigned to work in the armoury was almost a punishment. No one came here and the long hours each guard had to work were often passed alone.
Tynan turned to face her.
Marise avoided looking at him for as long as possible and then lifted her eyes to meet his. He looked concerned. She wished he didn’t. She was having enough trouble holding herself together without him encouraging this revolt by her feelings.
He sighed, his broad shoulders heaving with it. He was taller than Jascha and had a far broader build, but other than that they looked so similar. Their hair was black as midnight, although Tynan’s was short, and they were both incredibly handsome, their fine features lending them an unusual air of grace and distinction.
When she had first met Tynan, she had never seen a man as beautiful as he was, until the night she had seen his brother Jascha.
He had made her feel as though her heart was pounding even when that was impossible.
Tynan’s dark eyes searched hers. She was glad that he differed from his brother there too. It meant that he could never wholly remind her of Jascha.
No one had eyes the stunning colour of Jascha’s.
And no one could set her heart on fire with a single look like he could.
Marise paced the room and fought for control, gathering her scattered emotions. This was no time to fall apart, not even if Tynan would keep her secret for her. She had to be strong, as a Law Keeper should be, and stick to procedure on the case. Her old feelings for Jascha shouldn’t be allowed to interfere with her work. Even this meeting with Tynan shouldn’t be taking place.
