Chapter Ten

Katelina lay on the bed and tried to calm herself
until Jorick returned with another microwaveable dinner. She
greeted it enthusiastically, despite the fact that it tasted like
cardboard. She’d had less to eat in the last few days than her last
diet had allowed. A sick smile flickered across her face as she
thought of a way to make a fortune: “the all new Vampire diet!
Guaranteed to lose pounds in only a few weeks by spending your time
with the undead. In fact, you’ll be lucky to get any food at all.
And, as a limited time offer, it’s free, so long as you’re willing
to give up your entire life.”
As she ate, she snuck quick glances at Jorick from
under her eyelids. He was a vampire. The statement seemed detached
and unreal, no matter how many times she repeated it to herself.
He, Jorick, was a vampire. He was not human. He did not need to eat
as she was eating. He was immortal. He was not human… He glanced up
sharply and her thoughts stopped abruptly. His dark eyes glittered
as he studied her and then he sank back into his own world
again.
When she’d finished eating, he stood and told her
stiffly that he had business to discuss with Oren and he’d see her
later. He took great pains to emphasize that she was not to leave
the room, though he needn’t have bothered. She had no intention of
putting so much as a toe over the threshold as long as the sun was
down.
Alone, she picked up one of the musty old romance
books from the wardrobe and flopped on the bed. She hoped that
immersing herself in the problems of 1800’s debutantes would help
to clear the scene she’d just witnessed from her mind, though she
found it hard to concentrate. Her brain kept replaying visions of
leering clowns and children with fangs. Her heart pounded in her
ears each time she thought about the truth, and yet she found
somewhere within her a strange acceptance. She half suspected that
she’d known all along. Jorick was too beautiful, wasn’t he? Too
perfect to be real.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about being in the
company of a vampire, or vampires as the case may be. It didn’t
take a lot of soul searching to decide she was very uncomfortable
with the plural sense of that word. Jesslynn had proven herself
untrustworthy, and the others seemed equally threatening. No, she
was not happy about her situation in the least and she wanted to
leave as soon as possible. I’ll tell Jorick that we need to go
–
Her flow of thoughts came to an abrupt stop. “Tell
Jorick that we need to go,” she mused aloud. That had been a
revealing sentence, hadn’t it? If nothing else it showed that,
despite everything, she still trusted him. That, or she knew
instinctively that he was her best option. The second explanation
was far more comfortable and the one she decided to tell herself
was the truth.
Though she read in fits of boredom, broken by bouts
of thought, she was halfway done with the book when Jorick
returned. She peered at him through heavy eyelids as he shut the
door and held out another microwavable box.
She set the book aside and stifled a yawn. He gave
her an amused smile and she defended herself, “I’m not used to
being up all night.”
“I’m sorry,” he replied in mock sincerity. “But I
think that conducting any operations in the daylight is a bit out
of the question for me. I would suggest a compromise but....” he
spread out his hands helplessly so that the meal–in–a–box tilted
dangerously. “I’m sure you understand.”
“Yeah.” She took that cardboard carton from him
before he made a mess. “So?”
“So, what?” he asked innocently. “I see you found
yourself some amusement?” He nodded towards the book that lay next
to her.
“Yes.” He’d skirted enough issues with her already.
She wasn’t letting him out of this one. “What did Oren say?”.
“About what?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and
leaned against the canopy post, feigning ignorance.
“You know very well about what! Your meeting with
him – what did he say? I have a right to know, since I’m sure I’m
involved in it.”
“Well... yes,” he said hesitantly. “You are, I
suppose.” He sat on the foot of the bed and stared at his lap
before he looked up at her.
She flushed as his eyes traced the length of her
body. Unconsciously she crossed her arms over her chest and tried
to sound firm. “Well?” He stared back and her eyes dropped away to
study the intricacies of the bedspread.
“Tomorrow Oren is going to find out what he can
about Michael. He has a meeting with one of Claudius’ men. Once
he’s gotten some information, we’ll act on it. He’s also going to
get us a car, one with a clean title; nothing suspicious. It won’t
do to have the police pulling us over every three feet.” He sneered
with unhidden disgust. “It might take a couple of days to get the
car arranged, but then we’ll leave.”
The words popped out before she even thought about
them, “You know where Claudius’ lover is, don’t you? It wasn’t just
Patrick and Michael. You were involved, too.”
He kept his voice light as he ran his hands over the
bedspread. “What makes you think I know where Arowenia is?”
“You do, don’t you?” She needed to know what she was
dealing with. She’d had enough surprises to last a lifetime.
“You should eat.” He nodded to the discarded box of
food.
Her eyes narrowed stubbornly. “I’ll eat when you
tell me the truth.”
“Fine.” He waited until she’d picked up the box and
forked a bite into her mouth. “Yes, I know where she’s being kept.
And Patrick and Michael weren’t the only ones involved; they
weren’t even the ones who did the actual kidnapping. Do you really
think they could have taken her by themselves? We had to help them,
of course.”
“And who is we?’
He sighed. “Oren, for one.”
“But why were you and Oren involved at all?”
Jorick shifted uncomfortably. “It was Oren’s war, or
more correctly his sister’s. Torina has the tendency to choose
lovers who have mates. This particular man’s wife didn’t appreciate
it and they got into a fight. Torina killed her fairly, but she was
one of Claudius’ favorites. Claudius retaliated and for a while the
two covens were quite violent. Things had tapered down to a cold
war over the last few years. It might have died out completely if
Jesslynn wasn’t determined to keep it going.”
“Why would she want it to keep going?”
“Power probably. Claudius has a large coven and
she’d surely like to get her hands on it. Or perhaps it’s just
pride that motivates her.”
Katelina thought of Jesslynn’s dark eyes and leaned
towards the latter option. “Why are you involved?”
Jorick frowned. “Because Oren asked me until I
couldn’t say no any longer. Neither of them are strategists and
they needed someone who could plan things properly.”
He sighed and ran a restless hand through his hair.
“Oren was walking a delicate line, he didn’t want to do anything
obviously hostile and we were only supposed to be gathering
intelligence on Claudius and his coven, but then I found Michael –
quite by accident. I don’t remember whose plan it was, but they
decided to try to force Claudius’ coven to collapse from the inside
out. There were some unhappy members, and Michael tried to incite a
revolt. He almost succeeded, but then he started talking too much
and Claudius threatened to kill you if he didn’t stop.
“Of course, Michael didn’t bother to tell anyone,
and pretended he was still doing what he’d agreed to. There was
already a plan to kidnap Arowenia in the works, Oren and the others
hoped that the suspicions about who had done it would tear the
coven apart, but then Michael and Patrick came forward, desperate
for something to use against Claudius. It was agreed that if they
openly took her it might be enough to cause dissention in the ranks
and those that had been contemplating revolt might take the
opportunity. Of course, it didn’t work the way Oren planned. The
only thing that went right is that Claudius doesn’t know that Oren
is involved, though thanks to an unfortunate incident he knows I
am.”
She tried to digest it all. “What unfortunate
incident?”
Jorick’s eyes danced away and he tried to look
casual. “Just a run in with Troy, one of Claudius’ henchmen. Of
course Troy reported it to him and then he knew I was tied into
it.”
Her mind raced down dark paths and she recalled
Oren’s words from the car ride yesterday: “Your true
reason”. Suspicions clouded her mind and she voiced them. “If
you were openly involved, then I doubt you were happy when Patrick
wanted to call it all off?”
He hesitated. “To be honest, no, I wasn’t happy. But
I thought that talking to Patrick might be enough. If I had known
what Michael was planning...”
“So this is all out of guilt? You feel guilty
because you encouraged them, helped them even; not because you
cared about Patrick or me.” Her mouth set into a hard, unbending
line. She gave Jorick a nasty glare and viciously tossed the empty
meal box onto the nightstand.
He shifted uncomfortably. His hands clenched and
then dropped uselessly to his lap. “Perhaps I do feel some...
guilt,” he said slowly. “But that’s not the reason I contacted
you.”
“Then why did you?” Though she asked, part of her
didn’t want an answer. How much could a person deal with in one
night? Could people take this many revelations in three successive
days without cracking up? Yes, insanity was a risk, but she needed
to know. She was sick of secrets and omissions. He wanted her to
trust him but gave her very little to base it on.
“I told you why already. I felt you had a right to
know.” His shifting gaze gave her the distinct feeling that he was
lying, but it also said that he wasn’t going to tell her the truth
no matter what she did.
“Hmmmmmm....” Her temporary defeat was signaled as
her eyes dropped away. She told herself that she wasn’t really
giving up. She’d force the information from him later when he was
more pliant.
As if to prove her dominance of the situation, she
demanded, “So, where is she?”
He stiffened and shook his head. “That, I won’t tell
you.”
“Why? Afraid that I’ll snitch?” she mocked
sarcastically.
“No, I’m afraid if Claudius gets his hands on you
and wrecks your mind that he’d extract the information from you.”
He dismissed it as though it were a normal, everyday
occurrence.
“Oh.” The single syllable was the only thing she
could think of to say. She tried but failed to come up with a
plausible argument against his logic and lapsed into silence with
her efforts.
Her quiet punctuated the end of the discussion, so
Jorick began a new one. “What are you reading?”
He managed to get her to talk about the book until
five a.m. At that point he announced that he must depart for his
bed – which, when pressed, he said was in the cellar with the
others’ and that, yes, it was a coffin.
“So, you do have to sleep in a coffin?” she asked in
surprise. In some sick, twisted way she found it interesting; like
a documentary on Chinese torture camps.
“No.” He stood up and absently smoothed the
bedspread he’d wrinkled. “I slept in a bathtub the other day,
remember? We can sleep anywhere. It’s just that a coffin with a
tight fitting lid is one of the best lightproof environments
possible.” He sounded like a salesman. “Besides, it’s sort of a
tradition, you know.” He gave her an impish grin, his eyes
twinkling with amusement.
His attempt at humor made her shake her head sadly.
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Before he could give her his warning she added,
“I won’t leave until you come for me tomorrow.”
“Very good. Goodnight.” He left, closing the heavy
wooden door behind him. The lock clicked loudly and she wondered
what the point of his admonishments were if he was sealing her
in.
She’d initially been tempted to stay awake until
dawn and explore the house in search of a telephone – she needed to
phone work, and her mother. But with the lock on the outside of the
door she had no chance of going anywhere, daylight or not. She
wasn’t really comfortable with the idea of being locked in and
would have preferred the lock be on her side. A discussion with
Jorick was certainly in order, though she suddenly wondered if she
was being locked in for her protection or theirs. Were the vampires
concerned that they might open their eyes to see her standing over
them with a stake in her hand?
She grinned at the picture of herself slaying a
basement full of vampires. When the passing fancy had evaporated,
she took a long bath, then slid into the beautiful, whispery
nightgown and headed back to bed.
She stopped at one of the windows and watched the
sun beginning to rise. It turned the sky into an iridescent flaming
scarlet that reminded her of blood – the blood that had filled her
dreams last night, and which would undoubtedly do so again. Looking
away, she shuddered and climbed into bed. She pulled the blankets
over her head to shut out the world and the harsh realities she’d
discovered.