by Linda Howard
She was doing this without the book of spells, but she remembered the words, and maybe she didn’t need to actually be touching the book. Maybe that was just a habit she’d fallen into. If it was, she needed to know, so she wouldn’t think she had to have the book right at hand. She closed her eyes, focused, and because now she knew exactly where her family was being held, her spirit went there immediately. She held her breath, looked around. The low-watt bulb overhead still burned, but they were all asleep. She hoped they stayed that way, all except for Emily.
Her dad and Justin slept on the floor, huddled on pallets, each covered by a single thin blanket. Their mother had one cot, Emily the other. Maybe they slept that way all the time, or maybe they took turns with the two cots. Knowing her family, Nevada bet they took turns. Nevada concentrated on her sister. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be here, wasn’t even certain she could make contact.
“Emily,” she whispered as she touched her little sister’s cheek. “Wake up, but for God’s sake, be quiet about it.”
Emily stirred, slapped at the place where Nevada’s hand touched, and tried to turn away.
“Come on,” Nevada whispered, “I need you to hear me.”
Emily’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked right at Nevada. “Am I dreaming?” she asked.
Nevada put a finger to her sister’s lips. “Shhhh. They can’t know I’m here.”
“You’re not here, not really,” Emily whispered. She came more fully awake, gave Nevada a scandalized look. “And you’re naked!”
“I’m in the shower. I don’t know how long I can stay, so listen carefully. Don’t let anyone know that we can talk this way.”
“But Mom …”
“No one,” Nevada insisted. “The vampires will sense any change in their attitudes, they’ll see … hope. We can’t let them know that you have a gift, or that I can travel this way.”
“You’ll come back, won’t you?” Emily said.
“As soon as I can.”
“I have so much to ask you … wait, you’re already fading …”
Nevada found herself fully in the shower, wet, naked, crying. She slapped a hand against the wet tile wall to steady herself. To stay with her sister and communicate was harder than she’d thought it would be. Doing it consistently, being able to control it, was going to take more practice.
She didn’t know how long she’d been in the shower, but the water wasn’t exactly hot now, so she figured she didn’t have much longer before they checked on her. She stepped out of the increasingly cooler water, but left it running. She didn’t have much more time, but she wanted to reach out to Chloe, the conduit who was, or had been, the target of the vampires. Knowing what the woman looked like, that she was close by, that they had connected once before, should make it easy. Closing her eyes, she pulled in her energy, refocused it, concentrated.
But either Nevada had depleted her resources in visiting Emily, or Chloe was already lost, because there wasn’t even a flicker of connection.
She turned off the water, dragged herself from the shower. Her efforts had left her completely exhausted. She wanted to sleep, to get lost in good dreams and memories, but she never had good dreams now.
Sorin had sometimes tried to reassure her, but no matter what he said about her future, she had all but lost hope for her own freedom. Still, if she could see her family free she’d consider that a victory. It was likely the only victory she’d have.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“Pack a bag. We need to leave before sundown.”
Chloe gave him a cool look. “This bonded thing doesn’t mean I have to obey you, you know.”
Luca sighed. “I know. Believe me, I know.”
He sounded so long-suffering that Chloe had to smile. She thought she’d been very accommodating since that whole bonding blood and sex thing—if by “accommodating” she meant having sex until she didn’t know if she could do it again any time within the next decade. Vampires had unbelievable stamina … at least Luca did. She, on the other hand, was human, and she’d had enough for a while.
The most disconcerting thing wasn’t the sex, it was the care and concern she felt for him. If anyone could take care of himself, it was Luca, but logic didn’t make any difference to how she felt. She pointed at the window. “The sun’s shining, in case you haven’t noticed. It’ll continue to shine for several more hours. Won’t you explode or melt or something if we go outside?”
“No,” he said patiently.
“Another common misconception, I suppose, like not being able to see your reflection in a mirror or the whole dead and cold thing.”
By now Chloe knew very well that he was neither dead nor cold. “Exactly,” he said in a dry tone.
She was delaying, and he knew it. Even worse, she knew that he knew it. All the logical reasons in the world didn’t change the fact that she was leaving the house she loved, a job she loved, and she didn’t know when or if she’d ever be able to return. She had worried at the problem all day, both aloud with him, and privately with herself: she could call her boss and arrange for some time off, but she had only two weeks of vacation time and taking both weeks back to back would really put him in a bind, especially on such short notice. If she was gone beyond those two weeks she probably wouldn’t have a job to come back to.
Unfortunately, that might not matter, to either her or her boss. If the vampires succeeded, none of the humans were safe.
She trailed her hand over the arm of the couch, pensively looked around. The house wasn’t a showplace; her furnishings were ordinary, chosen more for comfort than style, but the place was hers. “They can eventually find me, no matter where I am.”
“Eventually, yes. But we can buy time. Moving every so often is probably our best bet; you’ll be safer when I have to feed or sleep if they’re constantly playing catch-up.”
He didn’t sugarcoat things for her. No matter how bad things were, Chloe faced them. Now that they were bonded and she was his in a soul-deep way she hadn’t been able to understand before, he could feel her waves of emotion as if they were his own. He hadn’t experienced emotions like this since Ena; no, not even with Ena, because that poor girl not only hadn’t remembered him, her life had been far simpler than Chloe’s was. Chloe’s inner turmoil reminded him forcefully why he’d bonded with a human only once: human emotions were messy and irrational, and led to problems that could be avoided if they operated on simple logic.
Chloe was a tangle of emotions at the moment. Despite the concern he felt coming from her, she both hated and loved him, those two strong emotions so entangled she couldn’t separate them. She was scared and angry; one part of her wanted to hide, while another part wanted to wage war on those who’d brought this to her: on all the rebels, on Sorin, on Luca himself. She’d recognized the necessity of bonding, but at the same time she hated that she was dependent upon him for her safety, hated that they were so tied together even though she reveled in parts of that bond. Sex between a bonded vampire and human was … combustible.
He didn’t know what the future held. If Chloe survived, the only thing that would lessen the hold of their bond was if there was a great distance between them, and even then he would always long for her, and she for him. He didn’t know if they could build any sort of life together, given that they were two different species. All of those questions would have to wait until the rebel uprising had played out, one way or the other. It went against his grain, his instincts, to wait for them to make a move. His next course of action, then, was to take the fight to them.
Regina smiled at Benedict as he made an argument for increasing their efforts to bring Luca in for questioning. Idiot. The entire Council was in a tizzy because their assassin had gone missing. Her people had been able to find him, but she wasn’t about to share that information. Even if the Council somehow succeeded, no one forced Luca to do anything. Who were they kidding?
The Council members would be disturbed by the report t
hat their assassin had decided to take up with a human, but she didn’t tell them that, either. Just the fact that he wasn’t answering their calls had them in a snit. What would they say if they knew he’d sided with a human over his own kind? It was all she could do not to laugh out loud. The Council had become what they’d once despised: bureaucrats. They were so entrenched in their laws that they’d been all but defanged.
The early hour of this meeting was a testament to the depths of their concern. They should be sleeping, resting, feeding in luxury and solitude until well after dark. Even though the sun didn’t shine here, they all felt the rise and setting of the sun within. They were, and always would be, true creatures of the night. After dark they were all stronger, sharper, better. But instead of lazing away the afternoon hours they were all here, gathered around the familiar table trying to make sense of the latest disturbances in their world.
“First Ambrus comes to us with a tale of rebellion and conveniently discovers Hector’s murder, and then he disappears. What are we supposed to think?” Benedict leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps he’s a part of this rebellion. It makes sense to suppose that Luca himself killed Hector and disposed of Enoch because Enoch knew too much.”
“If that’s the case, why would Luca tell us about the revolt?” Theodore asked.
“Perhaps to confuse us,” Benedict said. “To throw us off his scent.” He grimaced. “Hell, he might’ve come here to gloat.”
They were all definitely confused, she thought with amusement.
“Maybe Enoch simply left of his own accord,” Pablo suggested. “He and Hector were close. I’m sure he was upset; the fact that both Luca and Enoch disappeared at the same time could be coincidence, nothing more.”
Regina ground her teeth. Enoch was dead, not missing, but she couldn’t say anything without giving away that she knew more than she’d let on.
“Why don’t we contact Jonas and have him pinpoint Luca’s location?” Eleanor said, her voice deceptively sweet. Bitch. Jonas had worked with Luca in the past, helping him locate rogue vampires, so of course it followed that if Luca had gone rogue Jonas was the one who could locate him.
Good luck with that …
“He’s not answering his cell,” Benedict grumbled.
Nor would he, Regina thought.
“Perhaps we should ask ourselves what we would do if we did locate Luca Ambrus?” Eleanor continued, pursuing another line of thought. That was what she did, offering first one argument and then another, until no one knew where she stood on anything. “In my opinion we’re fortunate that Luca simply left. Who among us can take down Luca Ambrus, if it becomes necessary? Increasing our efforts to find him is rather like a human coming after one of us. The odds are not in our favor.”
Regina rose slowly. She didn’t have an imposing height like Benedict or Theodore, but the Council members respected her. The eyes of the other females were all on her; they would allow her to speak for them. She’d laid the groundwork for a division between the males and the females of the Council long ago, and stoked the fires when she got the opportunity. In the end some of them would come with her, though they would not be her equal in the new order.
“Eleanor’s right,” she said calmly. “Whoever you send to collect Luca will die.”
“He isn’t so strong,” Benedict began.
“He is.” Regina stared at him. “Don’t you remember that he used Voice on us—and there was nothing we could do? We’re strong, all of us, but he has powers that we don’t. Luca isn’t entirely like us,” she added softly, though those words were more powerful than the ones that had preceded them. “He won’t answer the phone if it doesn’t suit him, and he won’t come running because we call. He served the Council for a very long time, but only because it suited him. He doesn’t care what we want, he never has, and I hope none of you were foolish enough to believe otherwise. Leave him be, for now. If he isn’t involved in the rebellion, he’ll likely come back to us soon enough.” Not if she had her way, but the others needed to believe that Luca’s return, and allegiance, was possible.
Her strength and calm had gained the attention of the others. They all looked at her expectantly, as if she had all the answers to their problems. “What should we do about this revolution?” Benedict asked. He was trying to take control of the meeting, trying to assert his authority, but he didn’t have any answers to all of the questions they faced.
“How do we know for certain there is a rebellion?” she asked reasonably. “Hector apparently told Luca there is a rebellious faction, and maybe it’s true, maybe it isn’t. We told Luca to bring a rebel to us and he hasn’t, so maybe they don’t exist. If that’s what he found, it’s possible he’s simply disappeared for a while. He’s done it before.” They all thought she and Luca had a special connection, which they didn’t and never had, but they thought it because over the centuries she had carefully cultivated that perception. She leaned forward. “However, we must also consider that it’s possible Hector never called Luca, and his presence here is a part of some plot we do not yet understand. Is Luca tired of answering to us? Does he think himself better, more capable of leading? Perhaps the revolution, if there is one, begins and ends with Luca Ambrus.”
She continued to remain outwardly calm, carefully controlling her breathing and the beat of her heart, as she remembered stepping into the doorway of Hector’s room as Enoch drove Hector’s own sword through his heart, watching with some satisfaction as the Head of Council exploded into a spray of fine gray dust. Hector’s talents had told him there was a traitor near, but he hadn’t seen that it was her, had never even suspected her. He’d sensed that death was coming, but he hadn’t realized until Enoch walked into his room that death had come for him at the hands of an old friend.
She’d felt such satisfaction in watching Hector die. He’d been an old fool, and weak. There wasn’t any place in her order for weakness.
There were others at this table who could ferret out the truth if they put in the effort, but they, and their gifts, had atrophied over the years. Accustomed to having their food brought to them, used to having others of their own kind do their bidding, they had become lazy. Their talents slept and faded. More than a thousand years of peace and loyalty within the vampire community had spoiled them all—except for her.
When the matter of Luca was dismissed they moved on to the next order of business: the election of a new Head of Council. Regina knew the position could be hers if she fought for it, and she would not have to fight very hard. The others respected her; they saw her strength. But she didn’t have the time or the patience to take on that duty, even for a short while. She had too many other things to do. Besides, in such a position of authority she’d be watched much too closely. So she nominated Pablo, who had a Napoleon complex and a sick fascination with one of the blood donors kept on site. His ego and the glamoured girl would keep him occupied and out of her hair. Benedict was annoyed that the others, who were thinking only of Pablo’s age and experience and who knew nothing of his latest obsession, didn’t see fit to champion him as an alternative.
They decided to take their time before choosing a ninth Council member to replace Hector. Regina knew it didn’t matter, because soon the Council would be irrelevant … and then it would be destroyed.
Sorin returned from his latest assignment anxious to see if Nevada had made progress while he’d been gone, but she wasn’t his first chore of the day. Traveling in daylight was tiring, but these days, every minute was precious. It had been too long since he’d slept, and he couldn’t see a time for sleep coming. Not that he couldn’t function, but he had to be careful not to let himself get so tired, or hungry, that he made mistakes. A single error could bring it all crashing down around their heads. That mistake would not be his.
When he returned to the mansion, his first order of business was to see Jonas, who looked as if he was about to have a nervous breakdown. The rate at which conduits were being activated had increased to the poin
t where he could hardly handle the influx of information—mentally or logistically. The vampire was rightly terrified of disappointing his queen, horrified to think that he might be too late in some instances.
Because Jonas would also be able to sense the energy when a warrior came into this world, the rebels knew they had not yet been too late in taking out any of the conduits. Not yet, anyway.
Not so long ago, Jonas had been a relatively strong vampire, though his powers were more mental than physical in spite of the young age at which he’d been turned. His smallish stature and long brown hair gave him a deceptively safe appearance, which he’d used to its full advantage. The life of a vampire had agreed with Jonas, until now. He’d worked for the Council, alongside Luca on occasion, and spent his leisure hours glamouring pretty girls and leaving them brokenhearted—and oddly weak and pale, though not so drained or brain-damaged that they wouldn’t soon recover. That had been before this new twist to his gift had been uncovered, before Regina had discovered that his talent for pinpointing energies extended well beyond rogue vampires, to conduits and their warriors.
The queen’s initial recruitment of Jonas hadn’t gone as planned. Jonas didn’t want to be a soldier; it wasn’t his style. Instead of cajoling or making reasoned arguments, Regina had kidnapped and tortured him in order to get what she wanted.
Sorin wondered if Regina realized that with a little effort she could’ve coerced Jonas to her side. She probably didn’t care. The rebel leader much preferred a show of strength to coercion. She didn’t ask twice.
Regina wasn’t present now. She had an important Council meeting today, one she’d said she could not miss; her absence left Sorin in charge, thank God. He enjoyed being in charge, always had.