Shades of Wicked
Page 4
Another gust of wind sliced into me, bringing with it the scent of snow. It would be a white Christmas in a few hours. I hoped to be far away by the time the first snowflakes fell.
I glanced over at Ian. He didn’t seem bothered by the cold and his coat was as thin as mine. Then again, he was from England and I came from the warmer climate of the Middle East. Some things not even the passage of time could dilute. My dislike of cold was one of those.
I checked my mobile again. Quarter to midnight.
“I hope Vlad didn’t pick tonight to go back on his word,” I murmured, more to myself than to Ian.
He cast an unconcerned glance at the sky. “He won’t.” Then he looked back at me. “I’ve run through many possibilities, but I can’t place the origin of your accent.”
“My accent?” I had mastered so many languages over the centuries, I thought I’d long gotten rid of any telltale hallmarks from my original one.
“It’s very slight,” he assured me. “Yet every so often, it peeks out, just like when you occasionally use words that haven’t been popular since America sewed its first flag.”
“Vampires might not be modern humans, but we should keep striving to sound like them,” I said, repeating one of Tenoch’s most frequent admonitions. Then I paused. Why had I shared that?
He nodded. “Too right. We’d whip heads around if we spouted thee’s and thou’s everywhere. Some old vamps refuse to modernize. Outs them to humans faster than flashing fang.”
Tenoch had felt the same way. That’s why my sire had been so adamant about my embracing the new, whether that was speech, clothing styles, mannerisms, or technological advancements.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Ian went on, a gleam appearing in his eyes. “Where did you get your accent? Ancient Sumer, perhaps? You do speak Sumerian better than anyone I’ve ever heard.”
“When have you heard it?” I asked to turn this line of questioning around. “It’s long been a dead language.”
His brow rose. “Yes, and most of Sumer’s culture’s been lost to history, too, so no one would know an authentic accent even if they heard it. I happened to learn Sumerian when a demon I was mates with taught it to me. How did you learn it?”
Nothing changed in my expression although inwardly, I flinched. How did I end up on the defensive end of a conversation about demons and my original homeland? I had to redirect the conversation. Fast.
“Some spells are more effective in their original language. When you’re a Law Guardian tasked with fighting various forms of magic, it behooves you to learn those languages. Why would you bother to learn one no one speaks anymore?” I let out a slight scoff. “Although I’m not surprised a demon taught it to you. Demons have been around longer than humans and vampires both, and they love to prove their imagined superiority over lowly walking corpses, as most demons see vampires.”
Ian appeared to mull that over. “Plausible.” Then he threw a cheery grin at me. “But you’re still hiding something. Rest assured, I will find out what it is.”
The roar of an approaching plane kept me from responding, which was good. Otherwise, I might have threatened to kill him again. That would have only made things worse. Ian tended to take a death threat as a challenge, a joke, or an aphrodisiac.
After it landed, the sleek plane used all of the empty parking lot to come to a stop. Then it waited, exterior running lights off so it didn’t stand out like a beacon in the dark. We ran over to the plane, reaching it right as the door opened.
“Cheers,” Ian said, vaulting into the open doorway. Then he stopped so suddenly that I plowed into his back when I jumped in after him. I pushed Ian aside so I wasn’t hanging half out of the doorway anymore. With him no longer blocking me, I saw the plane contained more than the two vampire pilots.
A third vampire reclined on the leather sofa in the plane’s sumptuous interior. His long black hair matched the stygian shade of his eyes and his skin was the same golden bronze as my own. I should have felt him before I saw him, except he was one of the few vampires in the world with enough power to tamp his aura down until he felt like a mere human.
Now that he’d succeeded in surprising us, Mencheres released his hold and an invisible shockwave filled the plane. It felt like thousands of stings erupted across my skin as his aura rolled over me. At the same time, the air suddenly felt heavy, as if it had morphed into the ocean and we were plunging toward the crushing pressure of the bottom.
I had to fight the urge to take a step backward. I would show no weakness, even if Mencheres was one of the few people that I considered to be a friend. I was old enough to remember Mencheres before he had fangs, let alone a pyramid built in his honor.
“Bugger,” Ian swore. “What are you doing here?”
Ian’s sire smiled at him. “Happy Christmas, Ian.” Then Mencheres’s dark gaze landed on me. “Veritas,” he said, drawing out all three syllables of my name. “Please enlighten me as to what you think you’re doing with one of my favorite offspring.”
Chapter 7
I exchanged a glance with Ian. In that single look, I knew Ian didn’t want me to reveal our true mission. I agreed. Mencheres was what they called old school when it came to the long-standing practice of vampires staying away from demons. That’s why he really wouldn’t support our attempt to kill one. The one thing demons could be counted on for was how they avenged the death of their own. No sensible Master vampire of any line would involve his people in that quagmire. A smart one like Mencheres would also take active steps to stop someone he cared about from doing it, too.
That’s why I’d rather stare down the entire ruling council than the vampire opposite me. For one, Mencheres might be the only vampire with enough power to actually stop us, if he knew what we intended. For another, I didn’t want to involve him in something that would likely get at least one of us killed.
“Mencheres. How lovely to see you,” I said in my most innocent tone.
“Don’t patronize me,” he replied irritably. That put me on alert. Mencheres could level this area with a thought, so he rarely bothered to let himself get to the point of annoyance. “Vlad already told me Ian was in serious trouble.”
“Diiiiick,” Ian breathed. “Leave it to Vlad to both honor his debt and get revenge at the same time.”
“Have you placed Ian under arrest for something?” Mencheres asked me, ignoring that.
“No,” I said, relieved to tell the truth about that, at least.
Mencheres’s gaze narrowed. “Then why would you, a Law Guardian, be spending time with him? Ian’s contempt for the law is outweighed only by his abhorrence for celibacy.”
Ian mimed hefting a glass in salute. “True, that.”
I cast about for a quick excuse. “I’m, ah”—what was the modern term?—“slumming it. I do that sometimes to relax.”
“Lies,” Mencheres said sharply. “You haven’t relaxed since Caesar was stabbed by Brutus. You also almost never take vampires as lovers, so—”
“Oh?” Ian interrupted, interest sparking in his gaze.
“So since you’re not arresting Ian or ‘slumming it’ with him,” Mencheres continued. “What are you doing, Veritas?”
I couldn’t think up a convincing excuse, so I decided to go with brazenness. I straightened to my full height. “Ian is Master of his own line, and he can tell you himself that he’s with me of his own free will. The rest isn’t your concern.”
Mencheres stared at me until it felt as if his gaze was boring into me. I didn’t flinch. We might be nearly equal in strength, but even with all his great power, he couldn’t kill me. Not permanently.
Ian tapped on the plane’s open door in obvious impatience. “Can we continue this pissing contest in the air?”
Mencheres took that destructive gaze from me and settled it on Ian. “Why? What sort of trouble are you in a hurry to escape from?”
The words this time weren’t spoken, but they hung in the air. From the way Ian stiffened
, he sensed them, too.
“As the lady said, I’m here of my own will, so it’s not your concern. Happy Christmas, Mencheres. Grand to see you, but you have a wife to return to and we have our own places to be.”
Mencheres released more of his power. The entire plane began to shake from the force of his aura. I had to resist the urge to wrap my arms around myself. It felt as if my guts might spill right out of me. All Ian did in response to this tremendous display was yawn. Since vampires didn’t need to breathe, it was as blatant as a stiff middle finger.
“Have it your way,” Mencheres finally said in a dark tone. “I will get the truth from Vlad.”
“No you won’t,” Ian said instantly. “If that wanker was going to sell me out, he already would have.”
Mencheres drew all his power back in. My stomach dropped and my coat fluttered as if buffeted by a strong breeze. Then the former pharaoh’s gaze softened as he stared at Ian.
“Why, after everything we’ve been through, will you not simply trust me enough to confide in me?”
For a second, pain darkened Ian’s gaze and his cocky demeanor cracked. Just as quickly, those flashes vanished and he smiled, bright and confident as the rising run.
“Don’t fret. I’ve got things well in hand.”
Mencheres said nothing. The silence turned into a weight that should have dented the floor. I didn’t glance at my mobile, but I was keenly aware of the minutes ticking by. We needed to leave. Soon, this plane would attract the wrong kind of notice.
“Have it your way,” Mencheres said again.
A flick of his hand later, the door closed by itself. Then the pilots turned the plane around and began to taxi down the lot. Within moments, we were in the air, the faint lights of the city growing dimmer beneath us.
I sat down in one of the cream-colored seats. Now that the standoff was over and Poland was disappearing behind us, I was relieved enough to realize I was hungry. I hadn’t fed since yesterday morning. Maybe I’d be lucky and Vlad’s plane would be stocked with a few blood bags.
Mencheres leaned back on his couch. His posture was still relaxed, but when I met his gaze, I knew that was a lie. His eyes resembled black diamonds as he stared at me.
“We share the same sire and we have known each other for thousands of years. That is why I want you to mark me well now, Veritas. Ian is reckless and impulsive, but you are not. You plan everything down to the last detail, so factor this into the plans you refuse to share with me: I will hold you responsible if Ian dies in whatever scheme you’re involving him in.”
“Mencheres,” Ian began.
“Do not interrupt,” he said harshly. “You are correct; I cannot command you any longer, but neither can you command me. If I choose to avenge you if she is careless with your life, that is my concern, not yours.”
He’d thrown our earlier, defiant words right back at us. My teeth ground. Mencheres’s threat might not be Ian’s concern, but it was now mine. He didn’t bluff. His normal course of action was to telekinetically rip the head off anyone who pissed him off. That sort of decisiveness made threats unnecessary.
Mencheres had taken the time to threaten me. I took that seriously, even if he couldn’t kill me as easily as he could the rest of the world. Instead of being comforted by his sire’s vow of vengeance, Ian appeared exasperated.
“Know what you are, Mencheres? You’re a bloody helicopter mom.”
I stifled my burst of laughter, turning it into a wheeze that fooled no one. Mencheres gave me a sour look, but now I couldn’t stop picturing him as one of those overprotective parents who constantly hovered over their children.
Mencheres gave me another “this isn’t funny” look before returning his attention to Ian. “You are not so strong that you are immune to death. I care for all the vampires I have sired, but there are few I love as if they were my own children. You are one of those few and something is very wrong with you. I could sense it even before Vlad warned me tonight.”
Ian came and slung an arm around my shoulder. I stiffened but allowed it, willing to see where he was going.
“See this lovely hellion?” he asked. “She’s so powerful I can barely keep my cock from standing at constant attention around her. More to the point, she’s extremely invested in keeping me alive. Take assurance from that, even if you can’t take assurance from my own determination not to get killed.”
Mencheres looked back and forth between us. I schooled my features to show nothing except confidence. Ian took another approach. He looked me up and down with leisurely appreciation, then pulled me even closer.
“And soon, this little vixen will want to keep me alive for many more reasons than that,” he all but purred.
I was willing to appear friendly, but I would not be treated as if I were a predetermined conquest. Ian claimed to enjoy pain? Let’s see how much he enjoyed this.
I threw an elbow into his side that broke all the ribs it came into contact with. While he let out a loud “oof!” I removed his arm from my shoulder with enough force to break that, too.
“If your cock comes anywhere near me, I will rip it off,” I said in my most pleasant voice. “However, I am very invested in keeping Ian alive, Mencheres,” I added, pivoting back to him. “Regardless, your threat is noted. Now, continue your conversation by yourselves. I’m keeping my own company for the rest of the flight.”
Then I moved to the section of the plane that was the farthest away from them. I could feel someone’s gaze on me the entire time, but I didn’t turn around to see if it was Ian or Mencheres.
Chapter 8
Mencheres didn’t stay long. When the plane flew over Romania, he left. He could have had the pilots land first. Instead, he used his power to form an invisible barrier over the door so we didn’t suffer a catastrophic loss of cabin pressure when he opened it. Then he jumped out, closed the plane door and resealed it with his power, and flew away.
Mencheres wasn’t normally this showy with his abilities. His dramatic mode of exit was another warning. I’d known he was fond of Ian, but I hadn’t expected this. Mencheres was making it clear that he held Ian’s life in the highest possible regard—and I had better do so, too.
That was a problem. I’d meant it when I told Mencheres I was invested in keeping Ian alive, but that investment had an expiration date. Once Ian succeeded in bringing Dagon to my trap, my focus would shift to bringing the demon to his long overdue justice. Not to preserving Ian’s life. Now, I had to kill Dagon while making sure both Ian and I survived? How?
“Thank God he’s finally gone,” Ian said, sauntering over to my side of the plane.
I considered ignoring him. I’d told him I was keeping my own company, after all. Then, I decided to ask what I’d been wondering about this past hour.
“Why are you refusing to tell Mencheres about Dagon?”
His lips tightened before he covered that with a careless smile. “Because he’d ruin our fun.”
“His power would be very useful,” I pointed out.
“Think he’d agree to use me as bait to draw a demon out?” Ian rolled his eyes. “Naïve doesn’t suit you.”
“It doesn’t,” I agreed, my tone hardening. “So stop pretending Mencheres wouldn’t agree to anything if he knew your soul was on the line. I didn’t know that two hours ago, but now, it’s obvious. So why are you refusing to tell him about Dagon even though his involvement would increase your chances of survival?”
“I don’t owe you a reason,” Ian said, spinning around.
I caught him before he made it down the aisle. “Yes, you do. Mencheres all but said he’d murder me if you died, so if I survive and you don’t, I’ll have to battle one of my oldest allies to the death. I refuse to do that without at least knowing why.”
Ian’s jaw clenched and emerald blazed from his eyes. At the same time, I felt his muscles coiling beneath my hands, as if he were trying to hold back something wild inside him. If we weren’t several thousand feet in the air, I�
��d think he was about to attack me. But if we fought under these circumstances, we’d bring the plane down, and that would cause bigger problems for both of us.
“Mencheres saved me,” Ian finally said.
I didn’t let go of him. “All vampires save the humans they sire. That can’t be all there is.”
Now his hands landed on my shoulders as well. “Ever been lost? I don’t mean unaware of where you are. I mean lost in every sense of the word. Hundreds of years ago, I fled a brutal New South Wales penal colony for the even harsher Australian outback. I was dying of thirst, half blind from the sun and wracked with pain from fighting off the local wildlife. It didn’t take long to hope to die by croc or venomous snake so it would be quick instead of more agony, but none of that was the worst part.” His voice thickened. “The worst part was knowing no one cared enough to save you. That’s what you remember forever. Not the physical pain or the never-ending fear, but the despair of being utterly alone and knowing you’ll die that way. Ever been lost like that?”
Memories rocketed to the surface, so strong and fast, my throat closed and my eyes stung with the instant surge of tears. It took all of my willpower not to allow these tears to fall as something long buried inside me began to scream.
Tenoch! You saved me, and I failed you when you needed me the most. I’m so sorry, my beloved sire. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . .
I had to look away from Ian or I’d lose the remainder of my control. I couldn’t bear to see the echo of my own pain reflected in the naked emotion of Ian’s gaze. He might be loath to reveal his real feelings, but when he did, he let them burst forth in all their scalding intensity.
“Yes.” I could barely force the word out for fear of my voice breaking. “I’ve been lost like that before.” Many times.
He released me so abruptly, I took a step back to steady myself. “Then you know why I refuse to hurt Mencheres by telling him the truth. If Dagon kills me, Mencheres will grieve, but if he knew my soul was lost, too . . .” His lips twisted. “Not that I’d given him any cause to hope for that stained, shriveled husk even before my deal with Dagon, but Mencheres has ever seen the best in me, and I can say that about no one else in this world.”