All in all, she was a perfect advertisement for an ice princess from hell.
Gabrielle was well known and not particularly well liked in most vampire circles. Her appeal lay in the fact that her lover, Mikhail, was one of the most powerful vampires on the planet. Very few immortals dared to say no to him. Gabrielle was a young vampire, only about a hundred years old and still learning. With Mikhail as her mentor, she was far more advanced than the average century-old vampire. She was also known for her lack of scruples, which made her the perfect partner for him.
Jennifer inclined her head in Gabrielle's direction. "Gaby," she acknowledged, knowing how the other woman detested the shortening of her name.
"Chère Jennifer, so lovely to see you again." Gabrielle's voice was thick with a French accent that Jennifer knew to be as false as her current hair color.
Jennifer turned back to Mikhail. "Where is she?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about." He braced his shoulder against the ornate fireplace mantel. His eyes gleamed with the golden glow from the leaping fire. He reminded her of a sleek jungle cat readying to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. While he might decide to make her his next victim, she wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Who's missing?" His expression was bemused.
"Miranda of Glencoe."
Jennifer didn't miss the spark of satisfaction that flared in his eyes before he feigned surprise. "Really? Miranda is missing? How dreadful. My love," he addressed Gabrielle, "when was the last time we saw Miranda?"
Gabrielle rose from the couch with her unearthly grace and moved toward her lover. "Well, I think it may have been a few years, at least. Maybe it was at Kitty Von Helgen's birthday party? She'd just turned 371 though she doesn't look a day over 40." She reached Mikhail's side and took the glass from him, then turned to Jennifer. "I don't remember seeing you at that party. Weren't you invited?" She took a drink, her sharp eyes watching Jennifer over the rim of the glass.
Jennifer struggled keep her expression impassive. "I hope the next time I see Kitty Von Helgen it will be to spit upon her rotting corpse," she spoke evenly. Ignoring Gabrielle's start of surprise, she turned her attention back to Mikhail. His icy eyes were amused. "You've gone too far this time, Mikhail," she warned.
"Dearest Jennifer, you wound me." He placed a slim hand over his heart as if her words had dealt him a mortal blow.
"How can I wound someone who is not human?" She glanced from Mikhail's amused gaze to Gabrielle's self-satisfied one. They were presenting a united front. Maybe now was a good time to put a crease into it. A little dissension in the enemy's ranks was a good thing when faced with open warfare.
"Both you and I know that I could never actually hurt you, Mikhail." Jennifer moved over to a navy leather wing chair and settled herself on the arm. Carefully she arranged her burgundy skirt, allowing Mikhail a flash of thigh. She swallowed her revulsion as she felt his interested gaze sweep her flesh. "However," she leaned against the back of the chair, her posture deceptively casual. The v-neck of her blouse gaped slightly, allowing Mikhail an unobstructed view of her black lace bra. "We both know that would be a waste of time and energy."
Mikhail smiled faintly. Gabrielle hissed her displeasure as her lover's gaze lingered on Jennifer's exposed flesh. Mikhail ignored her. "What do you want from me, little Jennifer?"
"The truth." Jennifer shifted so her blouse once again obstructed his personal peep show. "Renault found evidence of drugs and he saw you and this she-cat steal Miranda away. I want to know why you have done this. As you know, Miranda is an old and dear friend of mine and quite naturally I am concerned for her welfare."
Mikhail's smile faltered and then returned in full force. "So much for stealth, my dear," he said to the bristling Gabrielle. He looked again at Jennifer, "And here I thought I was being so clever."
Jennifer wasn't fooled. Mikhail was not a stupid man. Unbalanced and reckless yes, but never stupid. He'd wanted Renault to see him and Gabrielle take Miranda. She was as certain as she knew her own name that this little "slip" was a part of his plan. Now she just had to figure out the purpose of his actions and how to get Miranda out of the middle of it. "What have you done with her?"
"I have her hidden away, somewhere safe."
"I want to see her."
"No," Gabrielle snarled. "You cannot see her. Now you toddle off and tell Val..."
Jennifer glanced at Gabrielle, concentrating briefly on the crystal glass in the other woman's hand. A second later it exploded, raining blood and crystal over both Mikhail and Gabrielle, who erupted into shrieks while Mikhail looked pained.
"Really Jennifer, Baccarat crystal. Was that necessary?" He retrieved a snowy white handkerchief from his pants pocket and dabbed at the front of his ruined silk shirt. "I think you have damaged enough of my possessions for one day. First you damage the wall by throwing the door open, now this."
"You fucking bitch," Gabrielle snarled, her accent changed from stilted French to harsh Brooklyn tones.
Jennifer noted with some satisfaction that the exquisite crystal had cut deeply into the woman's hand. Blood flowed from the wound and if it was possible, she looked even paler than before.
Jennifer laughed shortly, "It isn't as if you won't heal." She rose from the arm of the chair, fixing Mikhail with her stare. "I meant what I said, Mikhail, I want to see Miranda before this goes on any longer."
Mikhail tossed the blood-soaked cloth into the fire with a hiss. "Fine. I will...."
"You cannot take her to...." Gabrielle interrupted.
"Silence," Mikhail ordered. He glanced down at the slowly expanding pool of blood at her feet. "You are ruining my Aubusson. Get a towel and go drip somewhere else."
Gabrielle cradled her injured hand to her chest as she started toward the door and threw a venomous glare at Jennifer. "I will get you for this, you bitch," she snarled. "You are only a revenant, a servant of the Master, and you can be killed."
"And you are a woman of your word, aren't you, Gaby?" Jennifer's smile was thin. "Go do your roots, they need attending." As the female vampire stormed from the room, Jennifer knew she would regret her words sooner or later. Her smile faded. Gabrielle would not soon forget this slight and she just might end up paying dearly for having the last word. Jennifer could only hope that she would not end up paying with her life.
Mikhail chuckled, causing chills to roll down her spine. "And you thought that I was bad."
Jennifer forced a mocking smile. "You sir, are not a very attentive lover."
He rolled his eyes theatrically. "If my dearest Gaby were in true mortal danger, as it were, I would leap to the ends of the earth to save her, or at least into town to get her some bandages. But we both know she will heal within moments and be back to prick your side with yet another thorn."
"Which we know will do very little if no lasting damage to me as well," Jennifer said lightly.
"Touché." Mikhail smiled as he moved across the room to take her arm. "You asked to see Miranda. She is this way."
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for his touch. As his cold hand clasped her arm, the chill sank instantly through the silk of her shirt and fear once again reasserted itself. The first thing she was going to do when she got back to the house was burn her clothing and take a searing hot bath. Yet she nodded serenely and allowed him to lead her from the room. Mikhail escorted her out into the foyer and toward the back of the house.
"You have heard the old adage, 'Be careful what you wish for because you soon might get it?'" he asked.
Jennifer ignored her growing sense of unease. "What do you hope to accomplish?"
He laughed and shivers rippled across her skin. "Even you should know the answer to that one, Jennifer. I want retribution from Val." He shrugged easily as he opened a small door tucked beneath the mammoth staircase. He gestured for her to go first. "He owes me."
She glanced uneasily down the narrow, twisting staircase. The scent of mildew, rotting cardboard and somethin
g not easily defined reached her nose. She didn't think Mikhail would play foul with her; he needed her too much to accomplish the next step in this deadly game he played. But she still wasn't one hundred percent sure. Besides, she'd never liked small, dark places.
"Scared?" Mikhail's smooth voice taunted.
Jennifer squared her shoulders and stepped through the door into the stench, stopping at the small landing at the top of the steps that descended into her own personal version of hell. "What does Val owe you for?" she asked, desperate to keep her mind off the numbing darkness that awaited her on those narrow steps.
"Where shall I begin? Stealing my women, for one. Shai was mine as her mother was before her. Maeve was also a chosen one as was her sister Rebecca. And let's not forget you, dearest Jennifer. You were to be my greatest triumph until he ruined it. Val had no right to interfere in my plans."
He shut the door with a soft click and the darkness was complete. She pressed her back against the wall as he maneuvered past, her hand curled convulsively around the wrought iron banister. He took the opportunity to press tightly against her, and she felt the iron of his arousal. Biting her lip until she tasted blood, she held herself stiff, unyielding as he reached around her, his breath caressing her unprotected throat.
"Do you remember that night?" Cool fingertips caressed the exposed skin. "The night I made you immortal?"
"Made me a monster, you mean?" Jennifer choked, unable to hide the bitterness in her tone.
"You aren't a monster, darling, and you know it. You will live forever, just like me," his voice trailed off as he pressed a tiny kiss against the base of her throat. "Just like me..."
"I am nothing like you," she ground out. She raised her hands to his chest and pushed, but he didn't give an inch. Panic blossomed in her chest as the twin devils of the darkness and the vampire began to claw at her soul.
"Ah, darling, you are exactly like me. More like me than you will ever know. That is why I chose you. I would have loved you forever, Jennifer. I would have put you above all others, even Shai. But then you left me." His tone was mock-sorrowful as his hands skimmed down her back to grab at her backside, and he thrust himself against her even tighter.
"Escaped is what you mean. Are you angry with Val for taking away Shai and rescuing Maeve or because he, too, escaped you? Is it because he beat you at your own game? He's one of the few vampires that don't cower before you, and that bothers you doesn't it?" She concentrated on her words rather than the man who was pressed so tightly against her. Panic threatened to strangle her as a scream built in her chest.
He shoved her, knocking her head into the wall with a sharp rap. "He did not beat me and neither did you. You came back to me not long ago, and you will again," he growled. His hands slid up her back to grip her shoulders, his breath, stale with old blood, on her cheek. "You betrayed me. But then again you betray all the men in your life don't you, my dearest?"
Jennifer stiffened at his verbal jab. "I was taught by the master. Aren't we a little old for groping in a closet?" she snapped, struggling for a tone of disdain.
Mikhail laughed and then released her abruptly. He flicked a wall switch and the narrow staircase was flooded with light. "If you prefer a bed, I can accommodate you." He moved away, gesturing for her to begin the journey down the twisting steps.
"Not on your life." She started down the circular staircase, ducking her head to avoid hitting it on the steps above.
"I wouldn't bet on that if I were you." His hand slipped neatly beneath the weight of her long hair, finding the sensitive nape of her neck. She stumbled and had to put her hands on the rough wall to avoid plunging down the remaining steps. "Whose life will you bet on it? Miranda's?"
"Stop that," she snapped.
Mikhail laughed again and withdrew his hand. "The gods hate cowards."
"I would hardly call it cowardice. I would call it good taste," she replied, starting down the steps again, this time keeping herself at least three steps in front of him.
"Still mourning for Conor MacNaughten, my dear? Or shall I call him 'The One Who Got Away'? How about your 'Knight in Tarnished Silver'?" He taunted. "He left and never looked back, did he? Called you a few choice names if I remember correctly. Of course your name was Lilith then, wasn't it? Was betrayal your middle name then too, darling Lilith?"
Jennifer clutched at the narrow banister, grateful that Mikhail could not see her stricken expression. She'd driven Mac away for his own good, not that he would have seen it that way had he known the circumstances for her defection. Both of their lives had been damaged, hers irrevocably, by her actions. On that night, over a century ago, she'd been left no choice. But not this time. The vampire wouldn't win this game and she would gladly forfeit her life in an effort to stop him from destroying the lives of others.
She forced a carefree laugh from her tight throat. "We parted amicably enough over a century ago, Mikhail. Everyone knows that. Why bring up ancient history?"
"Is that all it is? Has the love of your life been relegated to 'ancient history' in your mind?" He chuckled and Jennifer dearly wanted to drive a rusty nail into his heart. "Somehow I don't think so. I think he mattered very much and he still does, much more than you are letting on. Of course, I alone know that he really wasn't the man for you."
"Then once again, Mikhail, you are wrong as you were then. I never thought he was the man for me."
Engrossed in conversation, Jennifer missed the bottom step. She staggered through the doorway, clutching the doorframe to regain her balance. It opened into a cramped, dank hallway lined with three black doors, each with heavy padlocks.
She glanced back at Mikhail. "Is this Let's Make A Deal and I get to pick a door?"
He shook his head, his blond hair gleaming in the subdued lighting. "No, I would say it is more like my own personal chamber of delights." He moved around her easily and strode to the middle door. He unlocked the padlock and opened the door with a flourish. He stepped back, allowing her to once again lead the way.
Jennifer saw with a start that the walls of the small room were covered in a shiny reflective material. Candlelight glowed on the walls, giving it an odd golden gleam. She felt like she'd been wrapped in tinfoil. On closer inspection, she noted that thin sheets of beaten sterling silver had been affixed to the walls, floor and ceiling so not a crack of plaster or wood was visible. No vampire or revenant alive would be able to telepathically link to someone on the outside and call for help.
Including her.
The door closed with a soft snick and she struggled to quell her burgeoning panic. She swallowed, forcing herself to focus on the problem at hand. Now was not the time for hysterics. Miranda needed her calm and focused. Her friend's life depended on the outcome of the next few minutes. In control, she turned toward the narrow bed and the battered woman who lay imprisoned upon it.
Under normal circumstances, Miranda of Glencoe was a strikingly beautiful woman. Almost six feet in height, she was built like a Rubenesque statue. Now she lay on the bed, emaciated and pale. Her long black hair was dirty and tangled, her wrists raw from the silver chains that kept her immobilized. Jennifer noted the tattered clothing and the partially healed bite marks on the woman's throat.
"What have you done to her?" she whispered, unable to hide her horror.
Mikhail tittered. "Only what I knew would bring Val running."
Jennifer swallowed the bile that burned at the back of her throat. Rage clawed at her heart. If it took everything she had for the rest of her days on earth, she would see to it that Mikhail paid for the ill he had perpetrated on Miranda. Even if he killed her in the process, it was a small price to pay for a woman who had been one of her only friends so long ago.
She forced herself to move toward the bed, her usually graceful movements jerky. She seated herself on the edge of the bed before her knees collapsed beneath her. Hesitantly she touched the woman's hand, where a golden Celtic knot ring gleamed. Jennifer drew her fingers over the familiar pa
ttern that matched the silver ring on her own right hand. A ring of eternity given a lifetime ago from an old vampire to a young and frightened revenant.
A low moan escaped Miranda. From the pale hue of her skin and her apparent weakness, she surmised it had been some time since the vampire had fed. Luckily Miranda was an Elder and could go for a long period of time without feeding and she wouldn't sustain any lasting damage.
"Miranda, it's me, Jennifer." She gently stroked the woman's dark hair until her eyes fluttered.
"Jen," she whispered through cracked lips.
"Hush now. I had to make sure you were alright." Tears burned the back of her eyes as she noted the hollow look of Miranda's expression. What she had endured, Jennifer didn't know, but she had a few ideas of the terror dealt at the hands of Mikhail.
"You are in danger here. Leave this evil place," Miranda whispered. "Tell Val that I have caused him enough pain..."
"How noble," Mikhail sneered.
"Tell him to take his women far from here." Miranda's voice failed her.
"No," Mikhail shrieked. "Don't you dare tell him that."
In the blink of an eye, Jennifer was hurled away from Miranda's side. She hit the wall with a metallic crash and slid down into a heap on the slippery floor. Dazed, she struggled to her feet as Mikhail loomed over the defenseless woman bound to the bed.
As he raised his hand to strike Miranda, Jennifer launched herself at his back. She hit him hard, knocking him off balance enough to keep him from striking her friend. Together they fell over the foot of the bed and onto the floor. Over and over they wrestled until she ended up on the bottom, his body pinning hers. Roughly he shoved between her thighs, pressing his crotch against the apex.
"I love women who fight," he ground out, capturing her flailing arms.
She struggled, fear making her crazed, and she tried to do anything to get away from him. She clawed at his hands but was unable to inflict any damage because he held her wrists too tightly. Whipping her head around, she snapped at him with her teeth. Abruptly he shoved his arm against her windpipe, forcing her head upward to meet his gaze.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 3 Page 22
