4 - We Are Gathered (7 page)

“That’s a really cool dress. I mean like, I’ve only seen stuff like that in specialty shops. Did he give it to you? And if so…that means he like had to replace your dress. Because maybe he tore—.”

“He didn’t give it to me, Elizabeth. Now, give it a rest.” Rori interrupted her.

“Well, it looks fabulous on you. It’s silk, isn’t it? It even looks like the real stuff. The heavy kind from—.”

“Can we discuss our problem, Liz?” That time, Naomi stopped their roommate’s gushing words.

“Oh. Right. We have to hide her. We could use the basement. There’s a really small storeroom they like, keep lawn equipment in. I’ve only been in it once. It’s pretty scary.”

“Do you need to hibernate? Or…whatever vampires do during the day?”

“I’m not a vampire.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, we saw the way he looked at you. He was like, ready to devour you. Or whatever it is vampires do. And you’ve got a lot more marks on your neck, and like, they look worse than yesterday. So…are you?”

“No,” Rori replied.

“We sort-of thought that guy would like, turn you into a vampire last night, and that would be like the coolest thing…ever.”

“And it would solve our problem.”

“What problem? You guys are blowing this way out of proportion. I had a late night. I’m tired. I need some sleep. That’s all.”

“We had a visit yesterday. From some old guys in suits, claiming to represent your family’s estate,” Naomi informed her.

“I don’t have a family.”

“That’s what we told them. Then, they said it was technically just your mother who’d sent them.”

“My mother was a junkie. She died on the streets when I was twelve. I got the obituary when I asked for it, since I didn’t believe them over the phone.”

“We told them that, too.”

“So then they started asking all kinds of other stuff. Like…if you’d been seeing any really interesting gentlemen lately.”

“Elizabeth thought their guard was really handsome.”

“He was. Tall, blonde…built. You know, like the epitome of a really gorgeous Swede. Or…a Viking, even. And you know how I love a man in uniform. It like, shows off every bit of muscle. I bet he had a major six-pack, too.”

“Elizabeth told him way too much, in case you’re wondering.”

“I did not. I didn’t tell him anything about Rori’s vampire dude.”

“You just spent a half hour flirting with the guy in the corner without saying anything he wanted to hear?”

“We weren’t flirting. And I didn’t change anything about your story. He thinks Rori’s off visiting relatives in Maine through the weekend. Exactly the same as what you said.”

Rori had heard of a sensation akin to blood freezing, but never actually experienced it. Until now. She’d convinced herself she was immune from emotion; any kind of emotion. That phone call from her case worker telling her about her mother’s demise was just one example. Rori let everything roll off like water off a duck’s back. Never let anything get to you, and never let anyone know if it does. But this was different. Her entire body went to ice. And it scared the hell out of her.

“He didn’t look convinced. None of them did. Which means we have a problem. We have to hide you. And before they come back. Can you move?”

Rori flicked her wrist, and the cover half-slid off her. She tried sitting up next, but got the same result; another sag back to her mattress. This was ridiculous.

“I’ll go get the hand-truck. If we can get her on it, we can make the elevator.”

“Right. We stuck it like…in the closet. Be right back. Now, nobody move.”

Her roommates were fetching a hand-truck. To move her to a basement storage room. It was now worse than ridiculous. It was impossible. A smell wafted through the rooms, adding to the illusionary quality. Something was burning. Rori almost lifted her head to make certain it wasn’t her.

“What’s that smell?”

“It’s okay, ladies! We can take it from here.”

The loud voice announced their presence, even before Rori’s roommates got pulled back from the doorframe. And then camouflage-covered men entered the room, making it stiflingly smaller than it was already. The ice-feel melted, dissolving into red-hot rage within the span of an eye blink, and from somewhere within her Rori pulled strength to sit. She flung both arms out at them, sending all five of them stumbling back. It didn’t stop them, though.

“Whoa there, Missy.”

One of them tossed a huge netted thing at her. It settled with devastating effect. The sensation was akin to a million stinging needles. She was writhing as they wrapped her, making her next wrist flick pulsate with little effect into the space about her. And that’s exactly when she knew she belonged with Tristan. Forever.

She heard muffled sounds of screams or something that sounded like her roommates balking at whatever was being done to them. She got lifted across somebody’s shoulder. Probably the big Viking-looking dude Elizabeth favored. It was difficult to breathe. The stinging sensation had quieted, replaced by a numbness that overtook her limbs and then went deeper. She could hear each breath clearly as they grew softer and more subdued. Her heartbeat was in the mix, too, catching her attention as it slowed to a bare thump of movement. Then even that muted. Her last conscious thought was that her roommates would probably report her missing now.

o0o

“About time you showed up.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tristan pulled out his chair and slid into place, put his palm on the identifier and watched as his system ran the check as if it was absorbing and not repetitious lines of code that put one to sleep. He felt like he’d awakened from a full-on drunk. Like the ones brought on by Templar wine. No…it was more akin to the after-effects of a battling. His belly felt like he’d taken blows. His chest might as well be a gaping wound. It started the moment he’d put her on her bed and backed away, already feeling every bit of full emptiness. Taking Rori back had sent hurt right to the center of him, where it festered and grew. There wasn’t any way to avoid it; nowhere that was safe; no amount of physical labor that altered it.

“Why did you take her back, anyway?”

“How do you know I did?”

“I’m aware of every facet of my organization, Invaris. You should know. Your hand is behind every camera, microphone, and code. And she’s still very photogenic. So, what happened? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough. What do you want to talk about then?”

Rori
. The instant image of her hit him squarely in the chest, and if he had a heart it pumped in agony at the view. Tristan clenched both fists about the armrests and pulled inward with the effort of staunching the emotion. He wasn’t successful. The creak of his chair evidenced it, as did the pieces of wood he’d ripped off. He looked at them without seeing, and recited through his head what they were. Carved lion heads. From the reign of Richard the Second.

“That’s a very expensive antique.”

“I’ll have it repaired.”

“It’ll never be the same. Exactly like your situation. But you already know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Akron sighed. The microphone amplified it until Tristan’s office reverberated with waves of it. They matched the heart-ache. Nobody had told him about that. And if such heartache existed, then somebody should have warned him. He almost wished he’d never met her, and then hunched forward at the agony that thought caused.

“Fair enough. We’ll talk about your future here with the organization.”

Tristan looked up at the myriad of monitors plastering the walls about him, instantly finding the one with Akron. There wasn’t anything to see except a desk with a large shadow behind it.

“My future?”

“I’m never allowing you time off again. Ever. You don’t get a vacation, or even a couple of days. Not until you train your replacement better than this.”

A file folder materialized on the desk in Akron’s room, tossed by an unseen hand.

“Nigel? We’re discussing Nigel?”

“You wanted another subject, you’ve got one. The fellow’s honest. Biddable. Sharp. And clueless on how to communicate effectively.”

“What did he do?”

“Send two operatives the same assignment. It took all my diplomatic skill today to avoid a blood feud.”

“The Icelander Athlerod?”

“No, his twin, Ethelstone. Remind me never to turn two members of a family ever again. Especially close twins. They make a great pair, but it’s messy.”

“We should change one of their surnames. It creates confusion. It probably wasn’t all Nigel’s fault. Their access codes are closely linked.”

“You should have taken my advice, Invaris. That way, your mate would be here with you, and you could concentrate on the business, rather than get all compassionate about my employees. Nigel screwed up and I had to pay the penalty.”

“Take…it out of my salary.” His voice trembled just slightly on the first word, showing Akron’s words hit home. Tristan swallowed and narrowed his eyes at the screen.

“Do you know how much Danegold we’re talking?”

“Does it matter?”

“No. But you do owe Margolis another sword. And he wants sixteenth century technology, not something fabricated from ‘hardened cheese’ – as he puts it.”

“Margolis?”

“Who else would challenge the Icelander? I swear, I’ll never again turn another poet, either. They’re too melancholy and way too emotional. Not at all like you.”

Tristan narrowed his eyes at the image on the screen. “What do you mean?”

“You. Sitting there pretending it doesn’t matter that your mate dumped you.”

Tristan opened his mouth and then closed it. He didn’t know what to say.

“I really like that about you, Crusader. You’re unable to lie, and find it really hard to prevaricate when you need to.”

“She didn’t dump me.”

“Then why isn’t she here? Or, why aren’t you with her? And don’t tell me not to talk about it when I can see it eating at you. I’m not buying what you’re selling. Not today. So, come on. Out with it.”

“She wants time.”

“You must have
really
screwed up my advice.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Do you hear me laughing? How much time does she want?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Invaris, listen. You’re honest to a fault. Completely honorable. And a complete jackass around women.”

“But she told me if you love something to set it free. Only if it comes back is it truly yours.”

“What if it doesn’t come back?”

“Then it wasn’t yours to start with.”

“Oh for the love of—. Listen, Tristan. This isn’t some seventy’s chick flick. This is real.”

“What?”

“She’s quoting you a movie line. And it’s complete sap. Like that bit about love meaning you never have to say you’re sorry. That’s another line of bullshit. But trust you to believe it. That’s the real problem here, Sir Tristan Navarre Invaris. You’re naïve as hell and twice as gullible.”

“Thank you,” Tristan replied through clenched teeth. “I hope this isn’t supposed to be a pep talk. Because it isn’t working, and I have an incoming message to answer.”

“Leave it. I’ll get Nigel on it. You have other things to do.”

“You’re replacing me now?”

“No. I’m trying to get you off your ass and after that woman of your own volition. I’m about ready to order you to do it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t be honorable.”

“Invaris. Stop a moment. Collect the facts. Review. Is she your mate, or not?”

“She is.”

“How do you know? How does any vampire know when they’ve finally found their one true mate? How?”

“They just do.”

“Because every cell in their body tells them so. It’s not deniable. It’s not negotiable. It just is. Isn’t that right?”

Tristan nodded.

“Then, how the hell could you send her out into the world? Alone? Unprotected? Worried? Perhaps…weak? This isn’t some celluloid fantasy. This is the real world, and there are all kinds of variables. You have what every vampire craves, and you’re letting it loose? In a world with Hunters that can scent these things? You should know. You discovered the genetic code. And you shared fluid with her. You practically gave out a GPS signal on how to locate her.”

Tristan was out of his chair and at the door.

“About time. Don’t bother sending for Nigel. I’ll handle it.”

There was more, but Tristan didn’t hear it. He was at full flight before he reached the hidden cave entrance.

CHAPTER SEVEN

They were mainly crucifixes. Lots of them, tied into place on the netting so they’d reach vampire flesh somewhere, no matter how much clothing they wore. There were also Stars of David attached in the mix, as well as some Russian Orthodox Icon pieces, ancient-looking small Buddha statues, and shreds of material and paper that could be portions of prayer rugs or pages from the Koran of the Islamic faith. They could also be from a Christian Bible. They could also be bits of someone’s homework, as well, but Rori doubted it.

Elizabeth had been accurate with her assessment of the material of Rori’s gown, too. It was fabulous, and not just because of the color and texture. It wore extremely well, and didn’t wrinkle too badly, even when curled into a fetal position on her side in it. All signs of really high grade silk. She didn’t need to question it. Tristan had probably procured it from a trader on the Silk Road in the seventeenth century or something of that nature.

She’d been placed in another stone-built room, resembling a castle interior only these builders hadn’t cared about aesthetics. Long fluorescent bulbs lit the interior, sending harsh white light onto the surfaces of long polished tables, large impressive chairs, rows of military-clothed guards, and one ancient-looking white-haired fellow who watched her, while his arthritic hands toyed with the dragon emblem topping a cane.

“I see you’re still human,” he said, finally. “That leaves us a certain quandary, and terribly disappoints Garrick. He really excels at taking out pairs.”

He tapped the floor with his cane twice and one of the guards stepped forward, turning into a tall Swede that probably resembled the mythical Norse god, Thor. He moved to stand at the right side of the old guy. His fatigues didn’t hide much. No wonder Elizabeth had gushed. The guy was every bit as gorgeous as she’d described. Muscled. Fit. Emotionless. Deadly. He looked like he didn’t lose arguments, once he made them. There was a silver-embossed broken-heart emblem just above his left pocket. Three ribbons protruded from it. That wasn’t at all comforting.