Shanelle settled next to me in a lazy slump, her lips curved in a smug smile.
“I’ve ordered you some food,” she said, leaning in to talk softly, ignoring the others now as she spoke to me.
“Okay.”
“Spaghetti and meatballs. Carbs and protein.”
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “Sometimes I think you all have decided I need a dietician.”
“Half-starved waif, remember?”
Around us, talk resumed. By the time the food arrived, I was thankful for a distraction. People kept shooting strange looks at me and I was tempted to stick my tongue out in return, just to break the growing tension in the room.
Or maybe it was the growing tension in me.
“Shanelle, you’ll be ready?”
The woman at my side rose and in a tone far more serious than she’d used with me for most of the day, she said, “I’m ready whenever you give the word, sir.”
I glanced up just as one of the shifters put a plate of spaghetti in front of me. “Ready for…?”
“Shanelle, Scott and Doyle are serving as your personal escort.” Damon’s eyes flicked toward me again, lingered.
“My...” I’d grabbed a fork and stabbed at a meatball. My stomach was rumbling and the food smelled amazing. But my mouth practically dried up as I processed what I’d just heard. “My escort.”
“Yes.” He sat down and faced me head-on for the first time since I’d come into the room. “I requested we hold the meeting at House Allerton. They agreed, but this isn’t just going to be Allerton there. Each house is sending whatever high-level vamp they can spare. Each one will come with a retinue. And vamps like to try and claim to use old protocol. Some might try separate us the moment we gain entry. Shanelle, Scott and Doyle are there to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
His lids flickered. “They have more…leeway in formal matters than I will. I requested an audience. I have to…” He blew out a breath. “If I stick to their rules, I don’t have to worry about them pulling any bullshit about how I broke the laws of protocol. But they were made aware I was bringing my mate and that she’d have a retinue. I told them you would stay with me. They gave a bunch of polite bullshit and I expect they’ll try to pull more bullshit—let the menfolk and leaders discuss this.” He paused as my brows went up over the menfolk bit. “They’ve already pointed out that mates aren’t required at meetings between factions. I told them mine was. They’ll still try to do some stupid bullshit. My people are going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Uneasy now, I shifted in the chair, appetite forgotten. Dropping my fork, I glanced at Shanelle, then Scott. I didn’t know where Doyle was, but he’d show up sooner or later.
“And what happens if one of them has to take somebody’s head off over me?” I asked.
“They won’t.” Damon shrugged. “I specifically selected Shanelle and Scott because they’re…diplomatic when they need to be. Doyle is learning and you’re somebody he’ll die to protect.”
“I don’t want anybody dying to protect me,” I cut in before he could finish. “But especially not the kid.”
Damon’s mouth twisted. “I don’t want that either. But Doyle puts your safety above his own and when it’s made clear that your safety relies on his levelheadedness, he’ll act accordingly. Others…” He ground his back teeth together, then shrugged. “Doyle is your best bet. Besides, none of them want any more lives lost—especially not their own. Anything they pull is to get a reaction, nothing else. They want to know how far they can push me…and to see if they get a reaction out of you.”
I clenched my hand in response to the heat flaring, my weapons whispering to me in the back of my mind.
He saw how my hand tightened—and he knew what it meant. A mean smile curled his lips. “If that’s the reaction you want to go with, then do it. They’ve been warned.”
“So I’ve got…leeway to stab them with something sharp and pointy?”
“If they try to separate us? Absolutely. But they won’t expect you to.” He paused a moment and the smile on his face took on a darker note. “I spoke with one of the vamps out of House Whittier and he’s under the belief that Kit Colbana is battered and broken.”
Now the heat in my hand rivaled the heat in my face.
I was enraged.
I was furious.
I was humiliated.
The rest of the room faded away as Damon got up and walked around the table to stand behind me, bending over to murmur in my ear. “Don’t let them see that, kitten,” he said, voice so low, it might as well have just been and him in the room. “Be pissed, be angry. Laugh at them, ignore them. But the rest…?”
It was hard to bury, but I’d do my best.
“If they want to see something battered, I’ll batter one of them,” I said sourly.
“I’ll hold your hat.” He nuzzled my neck, then straightened and went back to where he’d been, talking to Scott.
Shanelle touched my arm. “Eat, will you? Can’t have you pulling a wilting lily act on me, right?”
Chapter Twenty
Wilting lily.
I think she’d said it on purpose, just so she’d have something to razz me with later on.
Now, as we went to leave the Lair, heading for the cars parked in a line of solid black, she leaned in. “Remember…no wilting lilies.”
“Bite me.” But I smiled as I said it.
The smile faded almost immediately though.
A shiver raced up my spine, followed by a familiar prickle as my senses alerted me to the presence of somebody else.
Brahm leaned against his staff, his hangdog expression going from somber to smiling when he saw me.
At some point, he’d washed away the ash and soot he’d gathered during the night.
As he stepped forward, I caught sight of the woman at his side.
Tate.
She gave me a short nod but said nothing, her eyes fixed straight ahead, like a good little soldier standing at attention.
Damon came to a stop beside me while Chang and Scott moved ahead.
“Brahm.”
It didn’t surprise me that Chang knew the witch. He knew everybody.
Brahm gave Chang a closed-lip smile. “We’re here to provide escort from the House of Witches.”
“Your assistance wasn’t requested.” Chang’s tone was polite. Friendly even. But firm.
“Your Alpha reached out to Justin Greaves. Greaves, however, is unavailable for the time being. I am quite available.” Brahm threw his arms open in an expansive gesture. “And unlike many other witches you might think to contact, I have no desire to maintain…good relations with the vampire houses in the city.”
Damon took a step forward. “I’m not looking to go to war with the vampires.”
“But you won’t avoid it if need be.” Brahm’s smile tugged up a bit wider. “However, I am not looking for war either. I want the truth about what is going on. As do you. Besides…every House of Witches owes Kit Colbana a debt.”
Uneasily, I looked away.
“If this is about Es…”
“You rescued our young.” Brahm’s voice compelled me to look back at him.
Sighing, I did. “It was a job. I’ve been thanked. You don’t owe me anything.”
“We disagree,” he said gently. “Or at the very least, I do. I will accompany you.”
He said it with complete and utter finality.
Damon gave him a hard look. I’d seen people shudder and fall to their knees under that gaze, but Brahm just smiled at him. After a moment, Damon shifted his attention to Chang and they had one of their little interludes of silent conversation. It ended with a faint smirk on Chang’s face, then Damon looked at me, brow arched.
“I wouldn’t turn him away if he’s offering.” With a faint smile, I added, “Besides, if he knows you called Justin, then it’s because Justin told him. If Justin trusts him, then I do, too.”
Oddly enough, that was all Damon n
eeded. He gave a short decisive nod. “Then Brahm’s with Kit. Tate, you’re with me.”
⸸
The drive to House Allerton took what felt like a lifetime. The air in the big car was on max and I ended up sliding closer to Damon, needing the heat he radiated like a sauna. Still, even with him so close, I felt chilled, my stomach twisted into awful knots.
Damon shifted around and put his hand on the back of my neck, his thumb stroking up and down in a soothing pattern.
When the car finally stopped, he nodded at the members of his retinue. Shanelle and Scott, along with a few others followed along behind us.
“Get on out. We’ll be there in a minute.”
Once we were alone, he looked at me.
“You can do this.”
“I know that.” I made a face at him. I didn’t want a pep talk.
“You’re shaking. You have to stop.”
“Bite me.”
He flashed me that wide smile, showing teeth that shown almost too white and perfect against his golden skin. “Baby girl, I’d love to. But do you really want to go in there with the scent of me all over you?”
I rolled my eyes and went to scoot off the seat.
He caught me around the waist and hauled me back against him. The press of his teeth against my neck had me going still while my breath lodged in my chest. He had covered the mark he’d given me with his teeth once more. I could feel the connection between us, like a bright, glowing blade.
He bit down, soft at first, then harder, until it was just this side of pain.
“Damon…”
The pressure eased, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he spoke against my skin. “You are stronger than every single blood sucker you’ll see in there, Kit.” He covered my chest with his hand, the heel of it pushing down until I felt my heart bumping against his touch. “In here. Now if I need to pick a fight with you and make you mad so you don’t go in there shaking, I will. But I think you can control it on your own.”
I shoved my elbow into his gut and pulled away.
He let me go and I slid a look at him before climbing out of the car.
Yeah, I’d fucking control it.
Later, I’d fall apart.
⸸
Damon had neglected to tell me that Dair would be joining us with an escort of his own.
I wasn’t surprised, though.
Both of them had lost people in this mess, so both of them would want answers.
Dair had remained silent after greeting me, making it clear that he was going to let Damon keep control in this matter. But the anger inside him was hot and bright, simmering just under the surface.
The three of us walked side by side, with me in the middle and I blanked my mind about what we were doing, where we going for as long as I could.
It was roughly sixty seconds.
My moment of blissful, enforced ignorance ended when Abraham Allerton met us on the pathway.
His gaze was dark and intense, face tight. When he looked at me, his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something.
Immediately, though, he stopped, a pained grimace crossing his features.
He looked thinner, harder, meaner.
No. Not…meaner.
There was just less of…him.
He’d told me that he was losing more of himself and I knew as a vampire aged, the bits of pieces of their humanity died. Eventually, his soul would be completely gone and all that would chain him to what he’d used to be would be whatever connections he managed to form with the living around him. And feeding.
Since I sort of considered him a friend, I hoped he’d be successful.
“Greetings, guests,” he said formally, nodding to Damon and Dair. Then he met my eyes and held my gaze for a long moment. Again, he went to say something, but stopped. “Shall we?”
We started back up the path, Abraham walked backward in a fluid motion, sidestepping every obstacle with ease as he made polite, empty small talk. Twice, he sent me looks that made the unease inside me crawl and twist every higher.
Finally, I looked over Damon.
Maybe he and I were starting to develop our own little silent language like he had with Chang, because after a few seconds, his men moved in front of us.
Damon took one long stride that separated the two of us and without pause, Dair joined him.
Shanelle moved up, sliding between Abraham and me. She hooked her arms through each of our elbows.
“I have got to tell you, Allerton, this house is so out there. I mean, it’s like the dude who set the family up had it imported from Transylvania or something.” She giggled a little and squeezed my arm harder.
He gave her a narrow look. “I wouldn’t know. I never thought to ask.”
“You should.”
“He’s rather dead,” Abraham said pointedly. He went to pull away.
“Why do you keep acting like you want to say something?” I asked, careful to keep the towering form of Scott directly in front of me. Doyle was in front of Abraham and the taller, young shifter all but dwarfed the lean vampire.
Abraham’s mouth went tight.
“I’ve been ordered to remain silent on that, I’m afraid, Kit.” He gave me a grim look. “I like you, you know. But my loyalty lies with my house. I cannot endanger them.”
He untangled his arm from Shanelle’s determined grip, but before moving away, he lingered long enough to add, “Be on guard. There is madness afoot and we haven’t even started to uncover the root of it.”
⸸
A chill unlike anything I’d ever known settled over me as I stepped into House Allerton.
My breath froze inside my lungs. Forcing it out was painful.
Damon had a hand resting at my back, a show of courtesy as much as anything else, and when I paused, he stroked his thumb across my spine. A gentle reassurance.
I didn’t let the chittering fear inside me break free, slamming a lid on it and focusing on the passage of air in, then out of my lungs.
Such a simple, yet complicated thing, breathing.
In…out. In…out.
Abraham started the tedious task of making introductions.
Damon had requested he act as a liaison, but whether he’d stay long, I had no idea.
In…out. In…out. You got this, Kit, I told myself. Yeah, right. Sure, I didn’t need a pep talk.
As the introductions moved closer to Damon and me, I let myself finally look around.
I had my emotions under control.
I had the fear buried deep.
I had—
I had a fucking knife in my hand.
It was there even before my brain made the connection. Blood roared in my ears as a tall, pale-haired vampire moved to join the group.
Tall, blond, lithe, he was lean and muscled. Beautiful, too.
Almost as beautiful as the one vampire I hated above all others.
The first time I’d seen him had been at the trial to determine Jude’s actual crimes. This vampire, another from House Whittier, and one I’ve since learned had been friends with the sick fuck since back when they were in England and terrorizing pretty maids all in in a row, went by the name of Claude.
Claude had a faint French accent and although his eyes were brown instead of blue and his chin was softer, he looked enough like Jude to be his brother.
And he’d told the Assembly that Jude had committed no crimes. After all, he’d bitten me, marked me, claimed me. I was property, after all. Vampires were still allowed to own property, or had they been fully neutered by today’s society?
Those had been the words he’d used.
As Claude moved to step closer to me, I brandished the blade I’d called without conscious thought.
“You come any closer to me, I’ll be the one neutering you, not society,” I said softly.
Next to me, Damon reacted.
There was nothing overt about it.
But I felt that reaction, something in him coming awake as he shifted his
attention from the vampire Abraham had just introduced to the one now standing only a few feet away from me.
The vampire in front of Damon was Maxine, the one who’d introduced herself as one of Amund’s children.
Her eyes lingered on my face a moment and then she turned her head.
“You agreed to abide by protocol, Claude. We all did. We’re in this house as guests. Are you going to violate one of our oldest rules already?” she asked, her voice low and sweet.
“My dearest Maxine,” he replied, pivoting with military sharp precision and bowing to her. “I merely wished to offer my greetings. Have I caused insult?”
“Your greetings aren’t required, needed…” Maxine glanced at me and then back at him. “And apparently, they aren’t wanted. You are here as a member of House Whittier and have provided escort to your master. That does not give you leave to speak to the Alpha seeking audience.”
“I don’t need leave.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Not to merely say hello to the half-breed chit.”
Damon took a step forward. “You want to say that again?”
Maxine held up a hand. “Alpha, accept my apologies for this…pest.” Before he could speak again, she addressed Claude. “Kit Colbana is the Alpha’s mate. Whatever disrespect you show her, you show to his entire clan and to him. She’s a member of the delegate he brought with him. More, she’s a member of the community here in Orlando, one who has earned the respect of the shifters, the House of Witches and from my House. You’ll afford her the respect she’s earned…or deal with me.”
A cold smile twisted Claude’s mouth but any reply he might have offered was cut off by a frail sounding voice.
“Nonsense. The boy will deal with me.”
Claude stiffened minutely. Only the fact that I made it a habit to study people and mannerisms made it even possible for me to pick up on it, but as a diminutive looking man stepped into the room, Claude’s demeanor changed.
“Master Whittier. I’ve given offense. I offer my most abject apologies.” He moved to the old vampire and gave a flourish of a bow.
“You will obey protocol.” That was all he said. Then the man, as wrinkled and wizened as any person I’d ever seen focused his burning black gaze on me. “Interesting. You’re the cause of so much trouble.”
Haunted Blade (Colbana Files Book 6) Page 18
