Crossing the field that separated the monastery from the town, he sensed the night began to lose its hold and hurried to reach Vasilije's before the sun gained the world. As he entered the house, he was met by the tense stares of the rest of the Sons of Navarus who were assembled just inside the door, each focused intently on him.
Vasilije stepped forward with a look of inquisition on his face. "Where have you been?"
"It's been a long time since I was young enough to have a curfew, dad. Where I've been is my own fucking business. Now if you don't mind, the sun's about to come up and I'd like to go to my room in your vampire Holiday Inn."
As he attempted to move past Vasilije, Dante taunted him. "Have a nice night out, Saint? Find any poor peasant girls to take the edge off?"
Before he could tell Dante exactly how to fuck himself, Saint felt Vasilije's hand on his arm. Looking down at where his hand lay, he said, "I suggest you remove your fucking hand and let me pass, Vasilije."
"Little touchy tonight, Saint? No luck with the local girls?" Dante goaded.
"Enough, Dante! We don't have time for this," Vasilije barked. Turning to face Saint, he continued, "You need to come with us."
"Why? It's almost dawn. Whatever we need to talk about we can do later. I'm not in the mood to talk any more shop today."
Yanking his arm from Vasilije's hold, Saint stepped forward but his progress was halted by Ramiel, the only son big enough physically stop him. "Something's happened, Saint. We need to act."
Saint looked from one man to the next and saw each had the same look of concern on his face. What could have happened? He'd already lost his only brother because of the Archons, and he had no other family.
"They've taken everything they could. There's nothing left."
"Saint," Vasilije began. "It's you."
Instantly, Saint knew what he'd say next.
"You're the one they're after now."
Chapter Two
Vasilije led the way to the meeting room and settled in behind the antique oak desk as the rest of the Sons took their places around the room. Another guest would join them in a few minutes, but before that, they had to convince Saint to do something he'd rarely done in the years Vasilije had known him.
Obey.
"So what are you saying? They still want you and we're not having long-faced meetings about that."
Saint's surly attitude wasn't a good sign. He wasn't going to fall in line easily.
"That's different."
"How?"
Vasilije sat back in his chair and folded his arms. "They don't know about this place. And there's Sasa."
Saint raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I get it. Because you're not single..." He suddenly stopped his train of thought and shook his head. "No, I don't get it. And what the hell do you mean they don't know about this place?"
"You're going to have to go into hiding. We can't risk the Archons finding you here. Ramiel and Thane are too important, and we can't move them."
"Explain to me why you don't have to go into hiding. Don't you put them in danger by staying here too?"
Vasilije remained silent for a long moment before asking Sion to close the door. Lowering his voice, he explained, "I don't want Sasa to hear this. They think I'm dead already. One of my vampires gave his life to complete the illusion. So I don't put anyone in danger."
Saint mumbled something and then asked, "Where are you asking me to go?"
The sharpness of his tone when he said "asking" didn't go unnoticed. Saint had been quite clear in his disgust for the idea that any one of them, especially Vasilije, was the leader able to order him around. It didn't help that the two of them hadn't liked one another since the night Vasilije had turned Teagan. And then after a problem between the brothers, Saint had cut himself off from everyone associated with Teagan.
Walking around the desk, Vasilije faced Saint. "We believe we've located a place for you to stay for a while until we can get more of your vampires' help."
Nico stepped out from near a bookcase and stood beside Vasilije. "We need you safe to fight the Archons, but your vampires have been slow to..." Hesitating as if to find the right words, he looked at Vasilije and finally said, "Slow to come around."
Saint smiled fakely, nodding his head. "I know what you're thinking and I don't fucking care. Just because I don't rule over mine like a dictator doesn't mean they're any less devoted. Just tell me where this place is."
Before Vasilije could answer, the door opened and in walked Sasa with another woman. They'd barely closed the door behind them when Saint's thin veneer of civility evaporated in front of everyone's eyes.
"What is this?" he asked angrily. Turning back from glaring at the strawberry-blonde next to Sasa, he faced Vasilije with a look of pure rage. "What the fuck is this?"
"Sorry I'm late, Vasilije," the woman said. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."
"No, we were just discussing..."
Saint cut him off in mid-sentence. "No, we weren't. I'm done with this."
As he spun around to leave, Vasilije grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. "Saint, hold on." Seeing that he had his attention, at least for the moment, Vasilije nodded toward the door to signal the rest of the Sons to leave.
Once they and Sasa had left, he relaxed against the edge of the desk and dropped Saint's arm. "Let's talk. We all know each other. How long has it been since you and Solenne saw one another?"
Solenne touched Saint's sleeve and smiled warmly at him. "It's been a long time. How have you been?"
Ignoring her, Saint pulled his arm away. "What the fuck is this, Vasilije? Why is she here?"
"She's going to help you hide out for a while."
"No."
Vasilije folded his arms across his chest. "She's perfect for the job. She's helping us spy on the Archons and she has her house in France that's secluded enough that no one can find you."
"No."
"Vasilije, would it be better if I go?" Solenne asked.
"Yes," Saint answered in a nasty tone.
"Solenne, give us a minute." Vasilije said as he escorted her to the door.
Alone, the two men stood silently until Saint spoke and Vasilije heard the anguish in his voice. "Not her."
"Saint, she's the best chance we have until more of your vampires come forward to help. As one of Teagan's vampires, she wants to do anything she can to keep us safe and get back at the Archons who killed her sire."
"Anyone else. Just not her."
"Plus, she's agreed to give you blood while you're at her house."
Saint backed up, shaking his head. "No. I don't drink from any vampires but my own."
"We don't have that option yet, Saint."
"This is what I get for not being an overbearing fuck like you," Saint mumbled as he turned his face away.
"I don't see what the problem is. Solenne and you go way back, and she's one of Teagan's. Plus she's easy to look at. Christ, you'd think we'd set you up with someone who looked like a warden at some women's prison."
"How long?" Saint asked, his shoulders hunched in resignation.
"Just until we can know you've got some of your vampires behind you."
Saint scowled and sat down heavily in a nearby chair. The look on his face seemed odd to Vasilije considering he was about to be holed up in a French country house with a woman willing to risk her life to help him.
Saint's preference for human women was well-known, but Vasilije couldn't believe he'd see his time in France with Solenne as a chore. He was cantankerous and difficult on his best days, for certain, but he wasn't crazy. Surely, even he could see the benefits this arrangement could offer.
Vasilije called Solenne back into the room and after bringing her up to speed with Saint's agreement, albeit reluctant, to the plan, he moved on to more important matters. "What else have you found other than Saint being the new target?"
"Not much yet," she said shaking her head. "They just found out about you and there's been a lot of celebrati
ng. Lots of patting one another on the back for getting you."
"Nice," Vasilije said, disgusted by the actions of his own kind. "One of their own dies, and it's time for champagne. At least we know Brandon's ruse worked. I can't thank him enough. None of us can."
Brandon. The thought of his taking the stake for him touched Vasilije more than he could express. The last time he'd seen him before leaving for New Orleans, he'd been the picture of a lost soul, the happiness gone from him as if it had been drained out of his very soul when Arden had succumbed to a hunter's stake eight months earlier. That he'd sacrifice his own life for Vasilije and what the Sons were trying to do without being asked showed the depth of his pain.
He only hoped he'd have the courage to do the same if he lost Sasa.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Vasilije. I know how it feels to lose one you care for."
Solenne lowered her head and sighed. He understood her pain at the loss of her sire. He'd felt it all those years ago when Nina had been staked right before his eyes. Still felt it in quiet moments when his mind drifted back to her.
"I know, Solenne. I miss him too."
Nodding in silence, she forced a smile and then looked over to Saint, who sat grimacing at the two of them. "I'm sorry about Teagan."
Slowly, he rose from his chair and walked to stand in front of her. A look of hatred settled into his features and when he spoke, his words came out as if they were hissed.
"I hadn't seen my brother for almost one hundred years because of you. Don't give me your sympathy. I don't want it."
Vasilije watched as Saint's expression hardened even more. Solenne stared back in sadness, obviously hurt by his words. "I think it's time you two got on your way. Solenne, keep us up-to-date with what's happening with the Archons. And be safe. If they find out what you're up to, pet, they won't hesitate to stake you too."
"I will. And don't worry about this. I won't let you down."
"Just let me know as soon as I'm done doing my time," Saint said in disgust as he left.
***
Looking around the eighteenth century French country house, Saint saw that little had changed since the last time he'd been there. Expensively furnished, Solenne's home had been some important sire's until she'd decided that the French countryside offered little of the excitement an ancient vampire craved. At least that was the story Solenne had told. Who knew if it were true.
As he stared up at the crystal chandelier above his head, he said what he wished would be the last words he'd have to say to her. "Just tell me where my room is and where I can work out."
Solenne stood staring at him, and he felt her eyes boring holes through him.
"Saint, I'd hoped we could put the past behind us to work together. Can we at least talk?"
He lowered his gaze to meet hers and saw ocean blue eyes wide with hope staring back at him. That she could think that giving him some doe-eyed look and meaningless words would be enough to erase everything that had happened only made him more enraged about the situation.
"I'm not interested in talking or taking some stroll down memory lane. Just point me to my room and where I can work out."
The fiery look that instantly filled her eyes showed she was the same Solenne from all those years ago. He knew that oh-so-helpful woman from Vasilije's was just an act.
"It doesn't have to be like this. I'd hoped you'd be a bigger man and see how we could work together. I see you're the same man you've always been, unfortunately."
The same man he'd always been? As if he'd been to blame for any past problems between them. Fucking Vasilije and his plans! Squinting his eyes, he pushed down his anger and explained just how this arrangement was going to work.
"Solenne, here's how we're playing this. Once you tell me where I can sleep and where I can work out, we won't have to see each other much, assuming there's food in this house."
Saint stared down at her feeling pleased about laying down the law. Vasilije may have given her the impression that this was going to be her show, but she had another thing coming if she thought that was reality.
"Saint, we'll have to see each other so you can feed from me. I told Vasilije I'd be willing to..."
"No. And if you want me to stay here, I'm either going to go out each night or you're going to have to find me human females to feed from."
The effect of his words was immediate, and the stunned expression on her face pleased him more than it should have.
"Humans? Why would you choose to feed from humans when you can have my blood?"
The sound of hurt in her voice was unmistakable, and somewhere deep inside Saint loved it. Now to finish what he' d started. "You know why they call me Saint, don't you, Solenne?"
The hurt in her tone moved to her eyes and with a catch in her voice, she said, "You don't expect me to be your pimp, do you? I won't do it."
"Then I'll be leaving each night to find blood. Or maybe I won't be staying at all."
Saint headed toward the front door, but Solenne caught up with him just as his hand landed on the doorknob. Turning back to look at her, he saw he'd won this first match between them.
"I'm only doing this because you're important to the other Sons. I don't give a damn who you sleep with, but remember this is my house."
"Well, since you'll be choosing the women, I'm sure we won't have any problems."
Solenne regained her composure and matter-of-factly pointed him in the direction of his bedroom and the exercise room before she turned on her heels. As she walked away, the anger at his words came out in each pounding step she took.
"Solenne?"
Saint intentionally took the edge off his voice when he said her name, sure she'd refuse to listen if he didn't. She stopped her furious march and slowly turned to face him, her eyes once again full of hope.
"Yes, Saint?" she said in that sweet voice she'd used with Vasilije.
"Anything but redheads. And have someone here tonight when I wake up. Make sure she's willing. I don't want to fight for blood when I first get up."
Solenne's face grew flushed with anger, and for a moment, Saint swore she would lunge at him. Instead, she ran her hands through her strawberry-blonde hair and plastered a stiff smile on her face before storming out.
Nice to see you again, sweetheart.
The bedroom he'd stay in during what was quickly feeling like his incarceration was as nice as the rest of the house. A king-sized antique bed faced a fireplace, and he had his own bathroom.
Not bad for a prison.
"Maybe I won't have to see her except when she brings me French farm girls," he said with a grin as he laid back to relax on the bed. He didn't have much experience with French women—farm or otherwise—but he suspected they'd be much like any other human female. In all his travels around the world, he hadn't found much difference among human women.
Not that he necessarily paid attention. His time with them was a means to an end. More truthfully, two ends. He needed blood as a vampire to keep him connected to his world, and since none of his vampires were nearby, he'd drink from a human. And he needed that release sex provided—that moment of bliss that quieted the demons and memories.
That he only slept with human females had earned him the nickname "Saint" and a status as some kind of oddity in the vampire world. The sexual joining of sire and vampire was considered to be the most sublime facet of being a vampire sire, and that first taste of a newly-turned vampire's blood slowly teasing her sire's tongue as he entered her was a moment of sheer ecstasy.
Or so he'd heard.
Never with any of the hundreds of females he'd sired had Saint slept with one of his vampires. Their turning had always been the same as with the males he'd sired. Of course, when his female vampires heard about what they'd missed out on from others, they asked and even begged for that closeness with him, only to be denied again and again.
The last vampire he'd made love to would be the only vampire to share that with him. He'd gone nearly one hundred y
ears since then. He'd go another hundred or as long as he walked the Earth only sleeping with human women. That was part of his penance. He'd done it for so long, it was part of who he was.
In his limbs, he felt the sun begin to rise higher above the horizon, but restlessness kept him from some much-needed sleep. Being back in this house brought memories of Teagan back once again.
How many nights since hearing of his death had he spent thinking of him? Thoughts of a lifetime ago and the closeness of two brothers made vampire on the same night but by two very different sires crept into his mind.
His brother's sire, the son-of-a-bitch who'd consigned him to this place so full of the past, was nothing like his own sire. Where Vasilije was overbearing and ruled over those he sired with an iron hand, Kir was simply absent. When he was staked just a few years after making Saint a vampire, it meant little since he'd not seen him after being released from his control only months into his new life.
He'd tried to be different with his vampires, but the scars left by his choices ensured that even when he was near them there was a distance that arose from simply being him. More of that penance for what he'd done.
Saint covered his eyes with his forearm and cursed the ability of vampires to remember. How much easier his existence would be if he could forget.
Forget them.
This place.
What he'd done all those years ago that had made him into the creature he was today.
Forget her.
Chapter Three
Solenne struggled to keep her anger in check, but Saint's words repeated in a vicious loop inside her head as she lay in bed waiting for the last remnants of daytime to relinquish their hold on the world outside. Over and over, his words were like knives that cut fresh wounds.
Human females to feed from.
In only minutes, she'd be forced out into the early night to find him a woman to take blood from. And likely have sex with. Right in her own house. A human woman over her.
The insult wasn't lost on her, a proud vampire female.
Blood Betrayed Page 2
