“It was a vampire from your house who abducted a woman,” Damon said, voice flat. “I would think he would be the cause of so much trouble, Master Whittier.”
At Damon’s comment, the vampire looked from me and focused on the shifter at my side.
And whatever he’d been doing to shield himself…he stopped.
The power and years inside him came pouring out and my throat constricted when the impact hit.
Eyes watering, heart racing, I tried to breathe through it.
Damon stepped away and I thought I might wilt as wave after wave slammed into me.
Wilting lily…
Somebody’s shoulder pressed into mine.
I locked my knees, blinking hard against the tears burning. Dimly, I heard voices but the words being exchanged made no sense.
Wilting lily…
The shoulder was no longer just pressing. Whoever it was nudged me—hard.
Out of instinct, I spread my feet wide to keep my balance.
That subtle movement snapped me out of it, like a line thrown to a swimmer caught in a riptide.
My heart still hammered.
My breath wanted to wheeze its way out of my lungs, but I wouldn’t let it.
In…out. In…out.
Staring down at the floor, I blinked until my eyes were clear.
The boots next to mine were sleek, black and heeled.
Shanelle.
When I finally looked up, I shot her a quick look and nodded.
But she wasn’t even looking at me.
She was staring at Claude the same way she’d study a bug under a slide.
He was looking from her to me.
But when he realized I was once more aware, a smug smile curled his lips.
I wanted to cut it right off his face.
Heat flared in my palm, taunting me.
In…out. In…out.
Chapter Twenty-One
Maxine, the new head of Amund’s house was offered a seat next to the desk in the grand office we’d been escorted to.
The man behind the desk wasn’t the head of House Allerton, but rather, the wrinkled man who had made Claude get a little more pasty white than he already was.
Master Whittier.
I knew nothing about him.
He hadn’t been present when Jude had been sentenced.
Actually, I hadn’t ever heard much of anything about this man and I was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing. It takes a lot power or a lot of money to stay that low under the radar when you packed as much oomph as this guy did.
He sat down, hands folded and elbows braced on the arms of the chair. He looked even more frail, almost childlike in the massive chair. But one look in his eyes was enough to forget that deceptive image. One look was enough to turn my heart back into a rabbiting desperate creature.
“We wait for Icarus,” the old vampire said, his wispy voice somehow compelling attention. “His house has suffered much these past few days. We allow him this…courtesy.”
I had a feeling his words were nothing more than lip service.
He wasn’t happy to be kept waiting.
Abraham, on the far side of the room, pressed his lips together, but said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the wall opposite him.
“It’s a tragedy to lose so many of your family,” the old one continued. “To be so…weakened.”
“Allerton has suffered a loss.” Abraham wasn’t silent this time. “But we are not, and have not been, weak, Master Whittier.”
A cool smile appeared on the old man’s face.
“Indeed.”
Abraham’s eyes flicked to the door.
I sat on a sofa across from him, one that had been designed to torture the ass, if one wanted my opinion. Damon stood just to my left while Chang, Doyle and the rest of our people waited behind us. I couldn’t see anybody but Damon, but his eyes moved to the door just as Abraham’s did.
I heard nothing.
But I wasn’t surprised when the door opened.
Icarus came in like a quiet storm, the air charged around him.
His eyes cut immediately to the oldest vampire in the room, and arguably, the strongest. Icarus gave Whittier a polite nod before he directed his attention to the lone vampire from House Whittier who remained standing. His gaze slammed into Claude, frost-rimmed and sharp. “You’ll be silent in my house and keep your gaze away from my guests. Otherwise, I’ll take your transgressions personally and you’ll leave here missing more blood and limbs than a pup like you can withstand.”
Claude’s eyes flashed and his mouth opened.
Whittier lifted a languid hand.
He didn’t even touch him, but Claude was flung back into the wall, his head striking with a sickening crack. “Claude has been warned, Icarus. If he steps over the line, I’ll turn him over to you with pleasure.” The words were delivered as Whittier lowered his hand in the same indolent manner.
I wasn’t certain which one of them freaked me out more.
Icarus turned toward us and the change in his expression was like night and day. He gave me what could only be described as a warm smile, moving toward Damon and me with his hands outstretched. “Kit. I would like to say it is lovely to see the woman to whom I owe a debt, but the circumstances are somewhat lacking.”
Rising slowly, I moved to stand at Damon’s side.
I wasn’t certain I needed to be the one talking first since this was his deal, but several people were watching me. “Yeah. Death is a bit of a downer.”
His mouth twitched and he nodded. Then he turned his attention to Damon. “I’m glad you called for us to meet. It was wise.”
The gravity of his voice had the hair on the back of my neck rising and without thinking about it, I put my hand on Damon’s arm.
He rested a hand low on my back and gave the vampire a polite nod but before anybody could get the ball rolling and ask Icarus anything—I didn’t even know where they’d start—Icarus took the bull by the horns.
“I cannot explain how it came to be, but it would seem an assassin breached these walls and killed several of our strongest members.” Cheekbones standing like razors against the taut lines of his face, he gestured toward the door, his mind clearly elsewhere. “One of the attacks happened across the hall, while I sat in this very office.”
His eyes moved to the chair where Whittier sat, mouth twitching in distaste.
One might have thought it was the vampire who inspired it, until he spoke again, voice full of more emotion than I’d ever heard from a vampire.
“The doors were open. I saw it happen.” He shook his head, passing a hand in front of his eyes as though he couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen. Abruptly, he turned and walked over to a chair in front of where Abraham stood. He sat down and leaned back, eyes closed.
Abraham reached out and rested a hand his shoulder.
Damon flicked a look at me as the silence stretched out, a tension so thick, I could taste it.
Strangely enough, I wasn’t the one who broke it.
“Are you going to make us wait with bated breath or are you going to tell us what you saw?” The question came from Aman Patel.
The slim Indian sat in the corner, clothed entirely in black, his sharply angled face emotionless. He’d observed everything in complete silence and had sat so still, he could have been a statue.
House Patel was the smallest house in the Florida region. The last I heard was that they numbered just at one-hundred fifty vampires. Something about how Patel sat there, so utterly…lifeless, even for a dead man, made me wonder how bad their losses were.
“Nothing.” Icarus straightened in the chair, eyes moving to the open doorway. “I saw…nothing.”
“Nothing.” Claude’s laconic voice grated against my ears like sandpaper against an open wound.
But I suspect it annoyed Icarus even more.
“First you saw something, now you saw—”
Icarus came out of his chair, flinging a ha
nd out as though he was backhanding something none of us could see.
I knew vampires gained odd powers as they aged, but they rarely showed them.
Icarus knocked Claude back, without even touching him. The power of that blow sent him crashing into the thick curtains that hung at his back and straight through the window.
“Do not re-enter my home, boy,” Icarus said. His eyes moved to Whittier. “Albion, please accept my apology.”
Albion?
The frail looking old man waved dismissively. “He was warned. Please…I want to know more of what has happened here.”
“As do I.” Mouth tight, Icarus went back to staring back out the door. “I sat right where you sit now. There was a strange noise. Almost a pop, but very loud.” He rubbed at his right ear as he spoke. “All within the house report hearing it. Some of the younger vampires experienced waves of dizziness. A few blacked out.”
“From a noise?” I couldn’t keep the question back.
“It was much more than just a noise, Kit,” Icarus said. “It was enough to disorient me for a moment. I daresay it might have even thrown you for a second, Albion.”
The old man raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“The disorientation lasted only a moment, but by the time it cleared, it was already…happening.” Icarus pointed toward the door. “She sat there. Su sat right there and for a moment, our eyes met. Then something grabbed her. She had no chance to fight. There was no warning, save for that sound.”
“Pardon me,” Aman said, voice gentle. “I’m confused. What attacked? What did you see?”
“I saw nothing.” Frustrated, he turned and glared at the other vampire, although it was clear his rage was directed at the attack. “Nothing. This attacker was…” Icarus’s mouth went tight. “You couldn’t see him. Her. It. The assassin grabbed her and she struck out, but there was no real time to fight. It tore her spine from her body and dropped her. Then I heard that noise again. Several more times, in fact before it stopped. And I felt death cut through our family line. The very last was Richter. Our family head.”
“Richter,” Whittier said, doubt so thick it all but dripped from his words. “Richter, a vampire only a century younger than me, was killed by an invisible monster.”
“You think I don’t know how mad this sounds?”
Mad wasn’t quite the word I would have used. A thick, tight knot of nerves settled low in my belly and keeping my face impassive was proving to be harder than I would have thought.
“Invisible monsters. Invisible killers, strong enough to take us out.” Icarus laughed, bewildered. “It’s ludicrous. But I know what I saw.”
The slight shift behind me betrayed the nervous tension I’d sensed in Doyle and I glanced over at him. He was no longer looking bored. But he wasn’t looking at anybody in the room either.
He was gazing downward and it didn’t take much of anything to see why.
The faint glow of his eyes would be noticeable to anybody who looked, should there be a person in the room paying him attention.
As casually as I could, I slid my hand down and laced my fingers with Damon’s, squeezing tight.
He’d already picked up on something though, because he moved slightly, gesturing to Chang who remained just behind us. As Chang moved up, Damon adjusted his position so that Doyle was now hidden behind him.
Chang brushed his hand down Doyle’s arm.
The entire exchange took seconds.
I heard a few low murmurs pass between Chang and Damon, but couldn’t make anything out.
“Do you have anything to add to this, Alpha Lee?” Patel asked, voice solicitous.
Damon gave a loose, one-shouldered shrug. “I asked Chang if he’d ever heard of anything like this. He’s one of our oldest.”
Several pairs of eyes moved to the man standing next to Damon.
They could have passed for the same age. Actually, Chang looked younger in some ways. He was smoothly polished and Damon was all rough edges. But the more I was around Chang, the more I realized he carried a well of secrets inside him.
“There is lore of any number of…monsters.” The pause was clearly deliberate, but the reason behind it could have been anything.
Whether it was a deliberate attempt to muddy any waters when it came to what he knew about my kind—and Doyle’s—I couldn’t even begin to guess.
“We cannot forget that there are secrets among the Old Ones that are unknown to us,” Chang continued.
The Old Ones.
Puck had been considered an Old One. Pandora had, as well.
Old Ones—creatures so ancient, they pre-dated time. There were theories that they came into being after the war between heaven and hell. The ones who’d sided against heaven became the demons—like Puck—while others were the angels who had fought with heaven were the ones who just hadn’t been able to make it back home before the gates were shut.
I had no idea if those legends were true or not, but I figured if I was one of those angels, I’d pretty damn pissed. If a gate can be shut, doesn’t that mean it can be opened?
But in the end, what Chang was saying really didn’t matter.
Not to me.
Because I had a sick feeling about what was going on.
“So we’re now speculating that this…unseen monster could be one of the Old Ones. One who decided to come to Orlando and take out vampires. Interesting theory,” Albion said, pausing to clear his throat.
It was a wasted attempt. Everybody heard his dry chuckle and there was no doubt he hadn’t intended to hide it.
“Was anything else unusual noted within House Allerton?”
Icarus stared at Albion like he was trying to decide if he wanted to answer, or just rip out the other one’s spine. Icarus wasn’t as old as Albion, but for all that the oldest vampire looked like he should be ready to turn to dust any day now, I knew better than to assume his frail appearance truly meant he was frail.
“A few of our guard have seen somebody come within range of our sentries. It’s possible she wanted to be seen. There’s been a pattern. A woman, blond. Trim. Fit.” Icarus shrugged. “But nobody has seen her in nearly a week and for all we know, there is no connection to this monster.”
Patel had tensed at those words. I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“A blonde woman—one you cannot track,” Patel asked quietly.
“We made no attempt to track her.” Icarus shrugged. “That may have been a mistake. But she was alone and unarmed. At the time, we were dealing with some internal matters and decided we would just wait and see if she approached.” He cocked his head, studying Patel. “You have seen her as well.”
“Not I. Three of my own guard.”
Albion slid a curious look toward me. “A blonde woman. Trim and fit. I’ve heard that you are hard to track, Kit Colbana. Is that so?”
A growl escaped Damon.
Chang and Doyle, as one, took steps forward while Scott moved closer to my side.
I wanted to get the hell out of there.
But running wasn’t going to fix anything. And running from predators made them chase you.
“I’m pretty certain there’s not enough gold in the world to make me decide to go spying on not one, but two vampire families, Master Whittier.” I didn’t look at Patel, but I did nod toward Icarus. “And assuming I was that hard up for money, I make it a habit of not taking jobs that put me at odds with those who’ve helped me in the past. I don’t know Icarus well, but one of his have helped me out several times in the past. I’ve no quarrel with Allerton House.”
“But you do have…quarrel with any number of vampires,” Whittier said.
“Actually, I have quarrel with one vampire. Only one,” I replied.
The silence was thick and choking now and I could feel the weight of Whittier’s power, his years buffeting me, like ocean waves crashing into me and trying to knock me low.
Braced against it, I held my ground.
“There i
s, after all, only one vampire who kidnapped me, had me beaten and broken and left me a bloody mess, all for his own amusement…Whittier,” I added softly.
The scars hidden under the tattoos began to burn, pulsing as thought they were as fresh now as they’d been right after Jude had marked me.
Albion Whittier’s gaze slid lower, down to my neck, then to my neck and shoulders, seeking out those scars.
“Only one,” he murmured. “Curious.”
He looked away from me then, flicking a hand in my direction as if to flick me off entirely.
“Patel has informed me that three of his anchors were murdered en route from a trip north. One of his daughters wished to make a match with a family in New York and the anchors provided escort and witness.” Albion’s lids drooped until on the slits of his eyes showed. “They never returned home. He felt their loss two days prior to the attacks here in Orlando.”
“There was no word from the Assembly,” Chang said after looking at Damon.
“House Patel looks to their own,” Aman said coolly.
“House Patel is down to nothing but babes and the playthings Aman likes to toy with in his bed,” Albion said calmly.
A hiss escaped Aman.
Albion only looked amused.
“We’re under protocol,” Maxine said, moving to stand between the men. The three of them shouldn’t have looked so terrifying, the wraith-like figure of Maxine, Albion frail and aged, and Aman Patel just a few inches taller than Maxine, his build not too different from that of a teenaged boy’s, although if one thought to look, the caged power in him was obvious under the sleek cut of a perfectly tailored suit.
But there was no way I’d leave the three of them at my back.
I didn’t even like being in the same room with them.
Albion’s thin lips twisted in a mockery of a smile. “I mean no disrespect, Aman.”
“Naturally.” The insincerity dripped from Aman’s words and it was apparent they were only paying lip service, but it was enough for Maxine.
She returned to her seat, doing so in a way that kept them in her sight, but it managed to be casual and graceful.
Haunted Blade (Colbana Files Book 6) Page 19
