Jaden took a steadying breath. The stagnant air did her no good and sounded abnormally odd in the silent chamber. Feeling many but not hearing anyone, she finally managed to lift her eyes to take in the vampire hall.
Jaden shivered, knowing salvation from the moment wouldn’t come. She felt Tyr’s nearness as she stepped into the ring of light that glowed from a torch stand levitating in the middle of a round table. Seven pairs of hostile faces examined her. She stopped. Her blood ran cold in her veins. She searched frantically for Tyr, not seeing him at first. Then, detecting Shiva on the far side of the oversized room, she took another hesitant step forward. Tyr appeared within her vision from behind a brooding tribal leader’s face. Her heart leapt only to fall and crash. He refused to look at her. He was as emotionless as the rest.
Jaden stopped once more. Watching as, one by one, the inspecting faces turned from detached masks to grim frowns of disapproval. Her eyes darted about, desperate to find deliverance. All she found was unwavering contempt.
She felt them on her, as if they reached cold invisible hands from the distance to push and probe at her body, to poke at the inner working of her mind. She forced her mind to be blank, dropping her gaze down at the floor to avoid being mesmerized by their eyes.
Black symbols swam before her in a gray stone sea. She felt so alone, so lost. The cold hands wouldn’t stop their inspection. She felt the tribal leaders sniffing her, touching her most intimately. She was like a helpless sacrifice, tied to a cliff and left to the whim of the kraken, as if the stone would soon part beneath her feet and the mythical sea beast would swallow her whole.
When silence prevailed in the chamber, Tyr finally turned his eyes to the pitiful creature before them. Her frame was thin, her features sunken into the depths of her bony face. The ashen skin pulled skeletal around her cheekbones. Her dark auburn hair was matted, long and thin like a corpse growing old in its coffin.
Blood stained her once white shirt from the wound he inflicted on her neck, reminding him of the elation he had felt when he killed her—the passionate orgasm of her death and rebirth, however bittersweet. Its seeping red pattern edged eerily from the gaping hole in her chest, her reward when she jumped before Rick’s stake aimed for his back. The man had come close to killing her. Dirt and grime from her nights on the floors of crypts stained that which wasn’t dried red. Even under the swaying of her wan body, she was beautiful to him.
She is a liar, a deceiver, a heartlessly cruel wench who is only now remorseful that she is caught, Tyr assured himself with a cool numbness. He refused to feel anything for her, forcing his mind to remember the folder, to remember her deceit, to remember her false words of love. What did either of them know of love? Theirs were lives filled with many things, many undeniable passions and lusts, but never love. Such sweetness would be wasted on them. They could never hold on to it, understand it. Her deceit was a cruel reminder, but effective in its unintentional aim. The memory would serve as a harsh lesson never to crave laughter and light in an endless abyss of black. Hardening, he added silently, And she is a coward, choosing death instead of facing her fate. She will reap the rewards of her deceitful, black heart. If it is in my power, she will live only to feel regret.
Then her eyes lifted from the floor to look at him, detecting his gaze in the oceanic flow of her pain. Tyr’s mind went blank, forgetting the revenge he had just sworn to. His body convulsed under the dull glaze in her jade eyes. They peered helplessly at him through the tattered depths of her long dark hair. His mind rebelled with the bitter stirrings of pride and reminiscent thoughts of duty and honor. But such things paled in importance. The seam of her lips parted showing her fangs. It was like a kick to his already damned soul. He could’ve let her die there on the floor of his cave. He could’ve spared her this torment, and thus spared himself the torture of inevitability. No matter what she had done, he still craved to protect her.
But it was too late. She had constructed her prison of fate with her own bloodied hands. Her lies, the actions of her mortal life, were laid out before her, carved into the proverbial granite of her past deeds. Although she quaked in the hell of her own making, he wished there was a way he could lift her out of it.
But what could he do? Lie to the council? Lie to the vampire nation he served for so long? And what honor was there in deceit? Could he really sacrifice his morals, his very nature to save her? And if he did, would he lose that last bit of humanity he still carried inside? It was that shred of humanity that kept him alive in death. Could he live without resenting her for an eternity? Even as he thought it, he knew he wouldn’t lie to save her. For to sacrifice his honor, he would sacrifice everything in him worth keeping. No, he wouldn’t lie. He could only wait for a miracle that would never come.
When it was evident no amount of time was going to give Jaden the courage to continue forward, Tyr stepped around the table. She watched him come for her, unable to help the glimmer of hope shining in the dull pools of her eyes. Tyr stopped under the watchful veil of the council, in the drowning of her pitiful expression. His eyes traveled briefly over her face before he reached out and roughly grabbed her arm.
Jaden trembled as he hauled her behind him. There was no love in his chilled touch, but she desperately drank in the feel of his palm to her skin. He stopped before an empty chair around the center circle. Taking her by her slender shoulders, he held her firmly in his grasp. Jaden’s face lifted, catching his passionless eyes with her own. A shock fell over her, a powerless urge to kiss his disapproving lips. He didn’t return her look as he levitated her above the ground. Tyr brought her into the center circle, landing on the lowered ring beneath the floating torch stand. Letting her go, he stepped away.
Jaden shuddered weakly. Her eyes automatically looked up to see if the torch would fall. It held steady. To her great relief, Tyr didn’t fly away but stayed beside her. She unconsciously leaned towards him. The eyes of the council became more intense, prickling like needles to the flesh.
Jaden jolted slightly as Shiva landed noiselessly next to her. Her round eyes sought him in surprise. He stiffly nodded before turning forward, the friendliest gesture she had yet to receive.
Jaden jolted again as Tyr spoke. The low, accented tone of his words reminded her of how much they had been through together in only a short time. He lifted his hand, his low voice quietly introducing her to the leaders. She managed a weak nod to each as she stepped around full circle. She hesitated only once, seeing Pietro’s face. It tugged at the back of her mind like a faraway dream. He didn’t acknowledge her as he turned his expression to the floor. In an instant the sensation was gone and she again faced the vampiress lounging decadently in her chair. The council stayed quiet through the formality of introductions, not making her welcome with words or expressions.
“What is this you bring us?” Theophania asked after a long, brooding silence.
“This is Jaden MacNaughton,” Tyr answered.
Jaden glanced at his face to see if there was any softness in him as he said her name. There was none. He ignored her. Jaden turned her eyes forward, lifting her chin. She drew strength from Tyr’s nearness, whether it was his intent or not.
Tyr added cryptically, “the dhampir.”
“She is no mortal,” Chara stated with a tap of her fingers on the wooden table before her. She glanced at Andrei for needless confirmation.
“The bloodstalker,” Andrei murmured adding, “the one who killed her father.”
“Ungrateful child.” Chara pouted with a sneer to her full lips.
Jaden lowered her head, the memory of it hitting her fresh, like ice water to the skin. To hear them speak of it so dispassionately, as if it was nothing to her, cut deeply. Not even Rick’s soft assurances whispered in the dark cell could convince her it wasn’t her fault.
“And who changed this dhampir?” Amon asked.
Tyr turned slightly to acknowledge the vampire leader. “I did.”
That statement caused a look of
speculation to rise between the elders. Amon nodded, pressing his lips together thoughtfully.
“And you remember, Dark Knight,” Vishnu said coolly, “that you are not to make more of yourself. Your blood is not to be passed on.”
“Yes,” Tyr said. His expression became tight.
“Then do you mean to disregard our laws?” Vishnu queried. “Do you no longer obey them?”
“I understand and respect our laws,” Tyr answered.
“And you made her anyway?” Ragnhild asked in surprise. Tyr turned back around to face him and nodded.
“Yes,” Tyr said. “I invoke the right of the Knights, the right to break a law for the greater purpose of the council. This dhampir was dying. My order was to bring her in. I thought it best, save the circumstances, to do so.”
“And how was she dying?” Theophania questioned, straightening her limbs only to rearrange them and lounge in the opposite direction of her sister. She, like the others, already knew part of the answer. Only by Tyr’s bite could she have been dying, for his blood to have changed her. “You could’ve given her your blood and saved her mortal coil.”
Tyr’s cheeks would’ve stained with embarrassment if he hadn’t been so practiced at hiding it. Tightening his expression, he tried to block Jaden from his mind. She stood beside him, shaking like paper in the wind.
“I was—” Tyr began.
“He was trapped inside a chamber while retrieving documents,” Shiva said. “By the time Jaden released him, the bloodlust transformed him. He attacked her in his frenzy, drinking her blood. Then, when sanity returned and he had seen what he’d done, he turned her. I saw the change and wouldn’t have acted differently.”
Tyr glanced briefly at Shiva, nodding his head in quick thanks.
“Very well,” Theophania said. “It is done and matters little to me.”
“She is sickly,” Andrei whispered good-naturedly to break the bleak ambiance. Chara giggled. Andrei made a great show of sniffing the air. “What have you been feeding her, Tyr? Rats?”
Jaden gulped and looked at the ground in embarrassment. Her bony hands wove together, the knuckles sticking out of the skin. Theophania and Ragnhild’s chuckles joined Chara and Andrei’s. Even Vishnu and Amon managed small smiles of amusement.
“I know you’ve never been a father, Tyr, but surely you could manage to better care for your benighted child,” Chara teased with approval. “You must feed them if they are to survive. Why deny her the thrill of human blood? Let her taste the other side of things.”
“Bloodstalker turned nightstalker,” Andrei crowed in a sanctimonious cry. “What perfect irony!”
“Do you know why we call you bloodstalkers?” Chara asked.
“We call you bloodstalkers, because you stalk your own blood,” Andrei continued. “Because you take with you a part of the vampire’s remaining humanity and then use it to destroy us. To vampires, dhampirs who hunt are less desirable than living with a festering corpse.”
“And now you are what you hate,” Chara finished happily.
Jaden had no defense. She pressed her protruding knuckles to her mouth, a look of agony marking her wan features. She bit her flesh, a droplet of blood running over the back of her pale hand.
Tyr smelled the blood and jerked his eyes around to her. At his direct look, she dropped her knuckle to her side and hid the wound beside her leg. Blood trailed down her finger and dripped onto the floor. The droplet resounded like a loud splash to vampire ears. Jaden grimaced like a scolded child. Her bottom lip pulled out a fraction. Tyr blinked heavily, looking away.
“And what of the documents,” Ragnhild said, eager to resume the judgment. His eyes narrowed carefully on Tyr, able to feel the torment wafting through him. Tyr was connected to all the elders, but was felt by his true father the most.
Jaden’s lips parted as if she would speak. She pressed them shut, unable to tell Tyr what she must. Her heart ached for him. Her body longed for him. She was in love with him. She loved him. Her heart exploded with it. But she couldn’t say it, not here. And if she could, if she froze time and it was just the two of them, would he even believe her or care?
No, Jaden thought in dejection. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. They might as well kill me. Without Tyr I am nothing.
Inside she wavered, her stomach turning with hunger and defeat. Healing her shoulder had taken a lot out of her. Even the small puncture wound on her finger refused to heal shut. The hunger made it hard to concentrate, to focus on what was being said. She closed her eyes, swaying slightly with the desire to bite something. There was nothing around but the smell of the grave—no fresh blood to ease the ache. She felt the bloodlust swimming in her eyes. She wondered if the orbs were pulling red as she had seen Tyr’s do.
What a fright I must be! She snorted wildly to herself. At the sound all eyes turned suspiciously to her. Tyr’s words shook her from her trance.
“I have them,” Tyr said sternly. Jaden saw his look of warning and wrinkled her brow in confusion. With an effortless leap, he hopped over the table only to leap back with Mack’s folder. Jaden gulped, wishing more than ever she had discovered what was inside. How could she defend what she didn’t know? Tyr lifted up the files for all to see before setting them before Ragnhild.
“They are in French,” Ragnhild said. Changing his tone, he began to read. Jaden studied his lips—enthralled by the way they moved and formed words. She couldn’t make out the foreign language but she listened to the low rumbling voice. A trance came over her senses, like a babe listening to a lullaby. Her numbed mind floated with her eyes, over rocks and symbols, torches and pale flesh. Ragnhild’s song lingered on for a long moment. The words were fast but melded into a complete rhythm. All of a sudden, she felt sick. Tyr and Shiva visibly stiffened. Eyes slowly turned to glare at her.
Stopping after reading a few pages, Ragnhild frowned. Out of deference to Jaden, he spoke again in English. “There are pictures within and many more documents. I have no wish to waste the council’s time reading them all here. Let me take them tonight and tomorrow I’ll report on the evidence within.”
The council nodded in agreement, trusting Ragnhild to see to it.
“So be it,” Theophania said. She then turned her attention to Jaden. Looking down her nose at the young one, she said, “We will read this file and tomorrow we will make judgment. We know you worked for Alan MacNaughton, your human uncle. We know he has been involved in numerous crimes against the vampire as well as smaller, less important crimes against humans. He has made vampires only to watch them die. He has extorted money by helping humans avenge themselves against each other, by making the enemy one of our kind and allowing the patron to torture said enemy at his leisure.”
Jaden became pale. She saw the truth in all of them and they believed she had something to do with it. Her thoughts flew around her head searching for an excuse, a defense. She came up with nothing. Any argument died in her throat.
“Rape,” Theophania continued, “murder, blackmail, larceny. The list is endless.”
Jaden got the impression Theophania liked doling out the charges in detail. Just as she could tell the vampiress cared nothing of Mack’s mortal victims. Jaden could see the disdain on the woman’s delicate features as she muttered the word humans. Jaden glanced at Tyr. He refused to acknowledge her.
“Many are the MacNaughton family crimes against the vampire,” Theophania stated. “You’ll be given your chance to answer for them tomorrow. It would be wise of you to consider what you say very carefully. The more you tell us, the more lenient we will be with you.”
Silently, Theophania directed, we want names, dhampir. Expose the others and spare yourself. Either way, we will discover them.
“Do you understand?” Chara insisted when Jaden didn’t move.
Jaden nodded weakly. She felt the black hole of fate beginning to close. She hadn’t a thing to say. She knew nothing, could name no one.
“Take her to your chamber, T
yr,” Ragnhild said. “Keep her close to you. There you will be fed. Bring her back at dusk.”
Tyr nodded. His stomach tightened as he took Jaden’s elbow in his tight grip. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t trust himself to get caught in the sorrow her eyes.
“And Tyr,” Chara called. Tyr turned to the vampiress, dragging his prisoner with him. “Do clean her up. For if only briefly, she is one of us. This,” Chara waved an appalled hand up and down Jaden’s form, “smell will never do. It is too reminiscent of the barbarian age.”
Tyr nodded. “I’ll see to it.”
Chara nodded, pleased. “I’ll have my girl bring her clothes.”
Jaden watched on silently. Tyr turned to her in warning, squeezing her arm in expectation.
“Ow,” Jaden gasped, glaring at Tyr. Seeing his ice-blue eyes, she calmed. She bowed her head at the vampiress. “Thank you.”
Chara smiled benevolently. Then, wrinkling her nose, she waved them away with wiggling fingers. Her amused giggle followed.
Shiva followed as Tyr escorted Jaden over the table. Their feet landed with a soft thud and Tyr continued walking. The three left through one of the doors. Jaden sighed with relief once they were out of the council hall. Her body swayed as if she would collapse.
“You did well,” Shiva said in mild approval.
Tyr glared at him. Shiva shrugged. Without breaking stride, he skirted past them, disappearing down the stone-carved hall. Jaden looked after him. The hall was lighted by torches, though it was cleaner than the prison passageway. The stone was smoothed to rectangular perfection and polished to a black gleam.
“Why didn’t they put me back in the prison with Rick?” Jaden asked.
Tyr growled, forcing her to follow by his grip on her bruised elbow. He hastened through the passage, flying by endless doors in blurring madness. Jaden stumbled behind him, her feet tripping.
When he didn’t answer, she snapped, “Aren’t you going to at least talk to me?”
Tyr stopped. Pushing open a door with the Drauger symbol over a shield that matched his brand, he shoved her inside. The room was dark. Tyr fixed it with a wave of his hand. A fire blazed in a stone hearth, candles lit in an overhead chandelier.
The Jaded Hunter Page 25
