by Jenna Black
That left Drake and his Guardians.
One way or another, she was going to win them over and use them to spirit Lily away, no matter what it cost her. Now, if only she could figure out how manage that...
***
CHARLES WASN’T VERY good at thinking like sixteen-year-old girl, nor did he spend much time in malls. However, after viewing Lily’s performance at the department store, he had an idea what kind of clothes she was shopping for. He bypassed the shoe stores and the more sophisticated clothing shops, instead peering in stores that catered to a more flamboyant crowd.
Lily was not stupid. She had to know everyone would be immediately looking for her, which meant she would spend as little time as possible browsing the racks, and as much time as possible in the dressing rooms, where she wouldn’t be seen.
Having reached the opposite end of the mall without finding her, Charles ducked in the first clothing store he passed on his way back, using his glamour to turn away mortal eyes while he marched directly to the dressing rooms and started pushing aside curtains. He saw several semi-naked women, one or two of whom were actually tolerable to look at, but none of them was Lily.
When he tried this same maneuver at the third store he passed, he met with some unexpected good luck. Behind the first door he opened, he found his quarry. His glamour held her motionless and sightless, and he slipped into the room and closed the door.
He’d caught her in the middle of pulling on another pair of jeans, no doubt as scandalous as the ones she’d modeled for Armand. She’d gotten the leans up as far as her knees and was bent slightly at I he waist, nothing but the minuscule thong covering her firm young bottom.
Charles swallowed hard and willed himself not t succumb to the sudden arousal the sight inspired. Tried to force away the image of peeling those bare] there panties away and—
He closed his eyes and leaned his back against the dressing room door, taking deep breaths. She w~ only sixteen. A child, by modem-day standards. Armand was right—having been married to a girl year younger than Lily, it was hard for him to see her as a child.
He’d better damn well learn to do it, though! He had no illusions that Armand’s friendship would keep him from carrying out his threat. He prided himself on being even-handed, on applying his rules—and his punishments—to all his, people. Charles had tasted his wrath before. And no woman, no matter how tempting, was worth that risk.
Hoping logic and his instinct for self-preservation would help him quell his growing infatuation, Charles slipped out of the dressing room, closing the door behind him. Then he released Lily from his glamour. She would never know that he had invaded her privacy, had seen her in such a state of undress.
He knocked on the door. “The game’s over, Lily,” he said, and heard her groan. “Put your street clothes back on and come out of there. If you don’t, I’ll come in after you.”
Clothing rustled, and he sincerely hoped that was the sound of her obeying his command. If he had to go in after her without clouding her mind with glamour, she might see the effect she had on him. If she told Armand. . . Concentrating on just what Armand would do to him if he didn’t control himself, Charles managed to push the lingering arousal away.
Minutes later, Lily opened the door, her face a mask of teenage sullenness. Charles shook his head at her, then flipped open his phone to call Armand. He ended the call before it went through.
To say the Seigneur was furious right now was an understatement. Lily had never tasted his temper before, had always been protected from it, but every instinct told Charles this time would be different. The poor child was in for a rude awakening. Perhaps a delay of twenty minutes or so would give the Seigneur time to calm the worst of his temper—and perhaps redirect some of it to Charles. Charles might not be allowed to lust after Lily, but he could still care for her. So instead of calling Armand, he called a cab, and, taking Lily firmly by the hand, led her out to meet it.
7
DRAKE HAD COAXED Faith back into the house, and they were sitting in the den together, neither, or speaking, when her cell phone rang. She answered instantly, muscles taut and aching with tension.
“I’ve found her,” Charles said. “And she’s fine.”
Emotions chased each other around her mind. Relief that Lily was all right. And terror that she wouldn’t be for long. There was no longer even the slightest hope that she could save her sister from Armand’s wrath. Of all the vampires in the Seigneur’s entourage, Charles was probably the most likely to want to help, and the least likely to actually do so.
“I’m bringing her back to the house,” Charles continued. “I waited until our cab pulled away to tell the Seigneur, but he won’t be far behind us. It was the best I could do.”
Her eyes prickled with tears. “Thank you, Charles,” she said, keeping her voice low so he wouldn’t hear the quaver. Then she hung up the phone.
“She’s been found?” Drake asked.
She nodded. “Charles is bringing her back to the house, and Armand will be back soon, too.”
Drake reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze, his eyes filled with concern. “Do you really believe he’ll hurt her?”
Clenching her teeth against the tears, she nodded. “He’s been very. . . indulgent with her.” And he’d kept her at boarding school for as many months of the year as possible. “But he won’t forgive this.”
His hand slid down her arm until his fingers twined with hers. “Perhaps we’ll be able to reason with him,” Drake said gently. “She’s just a mortal, and a child at that.”
It had been so long since anyone had shown her genuine kindness. She clung to his hand, squeezing hard as she fought for calm. “He doesn’t see reason when his authority has been questioned.” She knew that despite his ferocity, Armand would not do Lily any permanent harm. But that was cold comfort at best.
Drake’s thumb caressed her knuckles. “Is there anything I can do?”
She had to blink away tears as she smiled at him. “Can you kill Armand before he has a chance to lay a hand on Lily?”
He sighed. “I would if I could.”
And she believed him. His eyes looked so troubled, his brow furrowed with concern. She drew in a breath and found a core of calm deep inside her.
Perhaps she was wrong in her assertion that was nothing she could do to stop Armand from hurting Lily. An idea—a terrible, terrifying idea—tickled the edge of her mind. She would do anything to protect Lily. Swallowing a lump of fear in her throat, hardened her resolve.
“Whatever happens,” she said, “don’t interfere. Armand would not take that well at all.”
Drake nodded, but if he’d had anything to about the matter, he was cut off by the sound of front door opening. A quick psychic scan told there was one vampire and one mortal in the foyer. She leapt to her feet and ran.
When she saw Lily and Charles, she gave a wordless cry and hurried to gather her sister into her arms.
***
DRAKE WATCHED FROM the doorway to the den Faith hugged her sister fiercely. Her distress was ‘~ a physical force, creating a knot of guilt in Dr-’ stomach. Even if everything she’d claimed about herself was a lie, this was real, he’d stake his life it. He wished he could spare her and Lily the ordeal, but what could he possibly do?
The Guardians had apparently heard the commotion, and they gathered at the base of the stairs. Drake’s stomach clenched as he realized what going to happen. They were young and impetuous, all of them. Drake knew better than to get into the middle of this mess, but he doubted the Guardians would be able to control their instinctual knee-jerk reactions.
He had to get them out of here before the Seigneur arrived.
Lily finally managed to extricate herself from Faith’s embrace, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. “What is the matter with you?” she asked, exasperation clear in every nuance of her voice and posture.
Faith shook her head. “I tried to warn you,” she be
gan, her voice scratchy with tears, but at that moment he door flew open and everyone fell silent.
Drake cursed under his breath, knowing there was no way he could get the Guardians out of harm’s way now. To keep them safe, he was going to have to act the bully again, and they might never forgive him or it.
The Seigneur stood in the open doorway, his two “lesser” fledglings at his back. From the buildup, Drake had expected a whirlwind of rage. Instead, the Seigneur’s expression was strangely blank, his eyes devoid of expression. However, the temperature noticeably dropped—a sure sign that there was an angry, powerful vampire in the room.
His eyes fixed on Lily, who didn’t recognize the danger everyone else in the room felt. She jutted her chin out and crossed her arms, radiating a total lack of repentance.
Armand took a single step forward. Faith grabbed her sister’s shoulder and jerked her backward Faith stood between the Seigneur and his quarry.
“Please, Seigneur,” she begged.
“Get out of my way, Faith,” he said. There was inflection in his voice, and still there were no external signs of anger except for the chill in the root However, something about him, or about Faith’s desperation, finally got through to Lily. She’d lost the sullen look and was instead biting her lip, a look of uncertainty in her eyes.
The Seigneur took another step forward. Keeping Lily behind her, Faith backed up.
“Please,” she repeated. “She’s only a child. She didn’t know what she was doing.”
He bared his fangs and took another step forward.
A little gasp escaped Lily’s lips. “Uncle Armand?” she asked, her voice low and most definitely worried.
Armand’s eyes slid away from Faith and locked with Lily’s. The girl’s face paled at what she saw there. Jez moved to stand next to Drake.
“Do something!” she urged.
Drake ground his teeth. “If you have a suggestion, I’d love to hear it.”
“Punish me, Seigneur” Faith pleaded, eyes impossibly wide. “You want to teach her a lesson. You don’t have to hurt her to do that.”
No one in the room could miss how much her own suggestion terrified her, but Faith took a step closer to Armand, head held high. Lily stood frozen in place, blinking in confusion.
“Uncle Armand’!” the girl asked again, her voice even more uncertain this time. “What’s going on?”
“You’ve indicated you would like me to treat you like an adult,” he said coldly. “I plan to honor your request.”
Faith took another step forward, putting herself within his reach. ‘Punish me, and she’ll get the point.”
Her eyes said she was still afraid, but she didn’t back down. Drake couldn’t help but admire her courage. And while he didn’t want to see her get hurt, better her than Lily. Faith’s vampire body could take the abuse without breaking. The same could not he said of Lily.
Armand said nothing, but his fist suddenly flew out of nowhere and sent Faith sprawling to the floor. Lily screamed and started to run forward, but Charles quickly grabbed her, lifting her off her feet when she struggled to break free.
Eric and Harry ran to Faith when she fell, their chivalric instincts getting in the way of their common sense. Armand’s fledglings moved forward, then came to a stop at a signal from their master. Armand looked over his shoulder at Drake.
“Call off your vampires. This is none of their business. Or yours.”
Jez made a growling sound, and Drake hastily used his glamour to freeze her. Harry bad helped Faith raise herself into a sitting position, and Eric had stepped between her and the Seigneur.
“Back down, Eric,” Drake ordered, hating that he had to do this. Harry’s jaw dropped open, and looked at Drake with horror.
Eric didn’t move, didn’t even glance in Drake’s direction. “I can’t just stand by and watch this!”
“Then go upstairs and don’t watch,” Drake said, his voice as cold as he could make it, all his own turmoil buried beneath the dictates of necessity.
Rebellion sparked in Eric’s eyes, and his fangs descended. Drake wasn’t entirely surprised. Gabriel had managed to intimidate Eric into submission, but it clearly wasn’t a natural state for him, and up until now he’d had no reason to be afraid of Drake.
“Don’t be stupid, puppy,” Drake growled at the fledgling. “There’s nothing we can do to help here All we can do is make it worse.” Not that Drake truly thought he could get through to Eric with logic when his primal instincts were in play.
Eric didn’t withdraw his fangs, instead looking even more mutinous, his posture radiating hostility. Hostility aimed at Drake, but even so the room grew cold again, Armand’s temper fraying around the edges once more.
Dammit! If Drake didn’t get Eric under control, Armand was liable to kill him out of annoyance. At least Harry wasn’t wading in, though the conflict on his face said he was thinking about it. Drake’s glamour was easily strong enough to control the two of them, but he wasn’t so sure he could control them with glamour and retain his hold on Jez. So he did the only thing he could.
Drake crossed the room, grabbed Eric by the collar of his shirt, then picked him up off his feet and hurled him into the next room. Even that tiny moment of distraction made his hold on Jez slip, and he just barely managed to get her back under before she said or did something to get them all killed.
That simple display of power was enough to get Harry to back off, and he raised his hands in surrender. But his eyes shone with a kind of sick sense of betrayal.
“Go upstairs,” Drake commanded. “And don’t come back down until I’ve given you permission.”
Harry looked over his shoulder, where his maker was struggling to his feet.
“He may be your maker, but I give the orders,” Drake said. “Go upstairs.”
Harry hesitated only a moment longer before he obeyed. Drake heaved a mental sigh of relief. One Guardian safe, one under something resembling control—only one wildcard left. He kept his fangs lowered and glared at Eric as the fledgling finally got his feet under him.
“It’s your choice, puppy,” he said. “You can either go upstairs now, or go upstairs after I beat the shit out of you.”
Eric’s shoulders heaved, and his lip curled. Drake prayed Eric would come to his senses. It wasn’t so much that Drake minded the idea of beating him up—it was more that he feared he wouldn’t be able to do it and keep control of Jezebel at the same time. If she challenged him, he was in deep trouble, because if he hurt her—or was unable to stop the Seigneur fro hurting her—Gabriel would kill him.
A long staring contest ensued, but Eric must ha~ seen that Drake was dead serious. He gave Drake look of pure disgust, then stormed out of the room and up the stairs.
In the foyer, Faith was on her feet once more. Blood from a split lip trickled down her chin, but the small cut was already healing, and her expression now was almost serene. Lily was still crying an struggling in Charles’s grasp, though her struggles were weakening.
Armand glanced at Jezebel, then back at Drake, “Perhaps it would be better for all involved if took her upstairs, too.”
Drake couldn’t help but agree. The effort of holding her was costing him, and the strain would doubt get worse as time went on. He looked at Faith
“I’m sorry I can’t help,” he said softly.
She nodded, but didn’t speak. Pouring every ounce of his concentration into the effort, Drake forced Jez to walk with him as he mounted the stairs. Neither one of them looked back when they heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh.
***
DRAKE ESCORTED JEZEBEL to her room. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the sounds fro~ downstairs. Then, he parked himself in front of the door and released her from his glamour.
He expected an explosion, was braced for it. Instead, Jez didn’t say a word to him, crossing the room and sitting down in a chair with her back to him.
Anger, he could have dealt with, could
have fought. Silent contempt hurt like physical pain. He shook his head.
“What could I possibly have done?” he asked. Not surprisingly, his only answer was more stony silence. “The Guardians have to be my first priority,” he tried again. “I couldn’t have risked any of you to save one of the Seigneur’s vampires.”
Jez turned her head to look at him. “What about the mortal girl? Would you have risked anything to help her, or would you have just let him do whatever lie wanted?”
Drake looked away. He would have hated it, and it would have eaten at his conscience for years to come, but no, he wouldn’t have taken the risk. If there’d been even the slightest hope that he could have helped, that would have been one thing. But the Seigneur was six hundred years old.
No, he reassured himself. Nothing he could have done would have helped the situation. Most likely there was some small, human corner of Jezebel’s brain that understood that. But Drake made a convenient scapegoat for her frustrated vampire instincts, so she would never acknowledge the truth.
It was a good thing he was the one in charge.
His thoughts brought him no comfort. Not wanting to see the condemnation in her eyes anymore, lie slipped out of the room. Even so, he stood guard outside to make sure she didn’t interfere until sounds of violence had faded from below.
***
FAITH LAY ON the floor and concentrated on breathing. Her entire body ached and throbbed with abuse, and her head swam from some of the m~ vicious blows. Unfortunately, she didn’t pass out. Lily’s heartbroken tears hurt almost as much as the punches, and Faith wished she’d been able to spare her sister the emotional pain as well as the physical.
Eventually, Armand stopped beating her. Her’ felt thick enough that his voice seemed to come from a great distance as he coldly ordered Charles to take Lily to her room and make sure she stayed there.
When his fledgling had obeyed, and Armand Faith were the only ones left in the foyer, he down on one knee beside her. His hand came to gently on her hair.
