In the Dark (10 page)

“He's only playing with you, human. He won't keep you,” she said with a nasty smile.

If this woman wanted to play dirty, so could she. “That's for Soren to decide, not you. At the moment, I'm being kept, and rather well I might add,” she said with a sugary smile as she patted the expensive dress.

“We're running out of time, Faith. Soren will simply kill me if I don't have you back by five for the ceremony, and we have more shopping to do.” Yasmin hooked her arm through hers and steered her out the narrow door.

Once they cleared the doors, Faith grumbled, “Miss Priss was one more smart remark away from a black eye.”

“You're serious, aren't you?”

“I'd like to punch her just to see her perfect hair get knocked out of place,” she fumed. “Who is she, anyway? One of his old girlfriends?”

“I don't think so, but I could be wrong,” Yasmin said. “You need to understand that vampire women dream of being mated to a Guardian.”

“But you aren't,” she pointed out.

“Julian wasn't always a councilman. He'd served as a Guardian first.” Yasmin laughed and gave her a small shove. “Don't look at me like that. I know I'm as bad as the rest of them. It's difficult to stop chasing a Guardian once you've been close to one.”

“That woman shouldn't be jealous. Soren's not a Guardian.” Yasmin's reasoning didn't apply.

“Oh, but he is. He may not stand guard with them, but he has in the past and trains them now. Soren answers only to the lord and the captain. A man can't get more powerful around here. It's what drove that woman to a fit of jealousy. She saw her chance at snatching wealth, peerage, and power taken away by a sweet human.”

“That's what she wanted? What's wrong with having the man?”

“I knew I'd like you. Come on, I've got a surprise.” Yasmin urged her toward a different elevator.

She followed Yasmin into the elevator and down another floor. The doors split open, and the difference here was huge. These stores had rougher exteriors, and though still beautiful, didn't have the same kind of class as those one floor above.

The first store on her right looked odd enough that she stopped to figure it out. Larger than the others, it had a double facing of white brick, which led her believe it was one large shop. The design, however, threw her a curveball. It had three different entry doors. “Am I missing something? Is it separated inside?”

Yasmin sighed wistfully. “Ah, Cyprian. He's brilliant. The only reason you'll ever see an aristocrat on this level is because of him. Each door brings you to the same open area. The trick to finding what you're searching for, or so he says, is to enter through the door that suits you best.”

“Well, now we have to try it,” she said, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she studied the doors.

The first door was wooden, arched at the top with two panels of beveled glass, simple and gothic. The second rested on two rounded brick steps. Made of a darker wood, a dozen thin squares of glass filled the door. The third had two long panels of stained glass depicting tree branches covered in bright green leaves and scattered with vibrantly colored birds.

Yasmin went for the birds, while Faith opened the second with its overload of glass panels. The appeal hadn't been the door itself, but the urge to climb the brick steps.

The other side was one large room filled wall to wall with furniture and unique decorations. Beneath a hanging of swallows in flight stood a triangular shaped chair. The couch beside it was fluidly curved and upholstered in diamond white. The coffee table had been carved into a life size tortoise. These pieces were genius, brought to life by an amazing artist.

“When Julian and I were married, we bought everything from Cyprian,” Yasmin said, looking around wistfully. “I suppose you're not looking for furnishings, though.”

“No, but I think his home is missing something,” she said, scanning the room.

“Soren is missing something?”

“There.” She pointed to a table one aisle over. This was precisely what she wanted. “He doesn't have a chessboard. This will fit right in with all the weaponry.”

“Go on and have it sent to him. I haven't shown you the surprise yet and we're running out of time,” Yasmin urged.

Faith took the chessboard to the cashier, and smiled all the way out the door, pleased she'd found something for Soren. As she left, although it made her feel silly, she just had to exit by the same door through which she'd entered.

Yasmin's big surprise was paradise. A short walk later she was in the midst of stores selling jeans, sweaters, T-shirts, and all the cozy pajamas a girl could desire. She hadn't seen a fancy gown here, not one sequin or bead.

The people here had transformed shopping, the true icing on the cake. Her arms weren't loaded down with bags or boxes, and the bills would be delivered to Soren's home, along with everything she'd bought. A brilliant system, but the convenience made it hard to know when to stop.

Exhausted, and finally finished shopping, she sat with Yasmin in a cafe. The smooth, rich chocolate pie paled in comparison to the piping hot hazelnut coffee they leisurely sipped. The sidewalk beneath her feet in this underground cafe had cracked over the years with wear. If she didn't know better, she would think she sat at a Paris cafe in the evening. Dark walls faded out of sight due to the streetlamps shining brightly onto the tables, and above them, tiny stars dotting the ceiling.

“Can I ask you something about Soren?” Faith asked.

“Sure, anything,” Yasmin said, wrapping her hands around her cup.

“I haven't met his family. Is it because of what I am?”

“No, dear. He doesn't have any family,” Yasmin said kindly.

“Everyone has family, even if it's the crazy uncle no one talks about.”

Yasmin shook her head. “Not that I'm aware of. Soren's mother didn't live long enough to give him a sibling.”

“He said his father had been shot protecting Navarre.”

“Soren and Navarre are roughly the same age, and when they were younger, neither took their places in life seriously.” Yasmin stared at her coffee. “An assassin killed Navarre's father. When he went after Navarre, Soren was with him. Soren's father was shot while protecting Navarre, and the assassin escaped.”

“How could he escape? The Guardians didn't stop him? The captain? Soren wouldn't have let the man get away.”

“It was over before anyone knew what had happened. Soren was young then, untrained and in shock. Things changed after the assassination. He worked harder than anyone I've ever known to become a Guardian. Once Navarre accepted him, he gave Soren free rein with his Guardians. Sometimes I think he trusts Soren more than his own captain.”

“He still has Navarre,” Faith said, setting aside her empty coffee cup. “He's not family, but at least Soren still has his friend with him.”

“They're still friends,” Yasmin said, nodding slowly. “But Navarre is much more stoic than he once was, and is more lord than friend. That night changed Navarre, too.”

She sat quietly for a moment, letting everything sink in. “I had no idea he was alone.”

“He's not alone.” Yasmin reached across the table to squeeze her hand, then caught sight of her watch. “Oh! We've got to go. The night is ending and we need to get ready for the ceremony.”

Hurrying, she followed Yasmin, who headed off in a different direction from where they'd come. Dozens of feet down the busy corridor, a sharp right, and they walked straight into an elevator.

“I don't know how you do it,” Faith said, leaning against the elevator rail. “This place has many twists and elevators. I'd be lost in five minutes.

“It's easy. If you're ever lost, you can hop into an elevator, press One, and wander around until something is familiar. I'll show you,” Yasmin said with a nod.

The doors slid open to the first floor, but nothing was recognizable.

“These are homes.” Yasmin pointed to the handful of doors scattered spaciously throughout the long hallway. “In fact...”

Yasmin walked up to a door, knocked loudly, then grabbed Faith's elbow and sped down the hall several feet before turning back. Julian stepped out, a bowtie twisted in a knotted mess to the side of his neck and barrettes snapped randomly in his hair. Several long strands had been knocked loose, hanging at odd angles.

Faith covered her mouth to hide her smile, but Yasmin let her laughter roll loudly through the hall.

“You think this is funny?” Julian asked. “Ivette is getting me ready for the ceremony. I talked her out of ribbons, but apparently pink bow barrettes are in a completely different category.”

“You look beautiful, dear,” Yasmin said, as if appeasing a child.

“I need help. Are you coming back soon?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder into his home.

“I love it when I get to save the day for once,” Yasmin said with a sly smile, then turned to her. “If you take a left at the end of the hall, you'll pass the dinning room. Can you manage your way home from there?”

“Better than he can handle being dolled up.” She nodded to Julian, who still waited impatiently in the doorway. “I'll see you both later.”

Faith gave them both a quick wave and headed toward Soren's home. This was the first time she'd really been alone. It felt strange, even though being alone wasn't an unfamiliar sensation. After her parents would begin their nightly round of arguments, she would disappear to the back yard, hide among the thick evergreens. She'd been alone then, and after her parents had split.

They'd fought over her, but never for her. Living with her mother had been like being haunted by a ghost. Faith knew her mother lived with her, knew where her room was located, but she'd rarely caught sight of her. Moving out had been a surprisingly peaceful type of solitary life.

At work, however, she'd been surrounded by oodles of people, but no one wanted to make friends with the boss's daughter, and she hardly blamed them. It hadn't been that he gave her special treatment. In her father's eyes, she was another worker bee—easily dispensable.

All in all, she was an expert at flying solo. So when Yasmin had appeared pleased to bustle through every store time allowed them, and answered any question she thought of, it had thrown her. The notion of having a friend was foreign, but what else could Yasmin now be?

And Soren? Outside of her childhood home, she hadn't lived with anyone. For the most part, he'd been considerate and sweet. Something she hadn't expected from her constant companion. And definitely not a vampire. She smiled a secret little smile. He was growing on her.

Following a sudden impulse, she made her way in the general direction of the training room. She found it easily. Either she had a great sense of direction, or she'd been lucky.

Peeking in the open door, she kept still, not wanting to disturb the class. Soren stood in the center of the room with a group of young boys in a full circle around him.

“Tell me why, Gian,” he said, and she held her breath, his deep, smooth voice sending a funny tickle to her stomach.

“Fists aren't weapons. You can't defend yourself with them,” a young boy with long black hair answered. Her last visit here, he'd been one of the more coordinated youths.

“Step back, boys. Gian, take the sword,” Soren said, passing him the weapon. “Now attack me.”

“I can't attack you, you're unarmed.” Gian grasped the hilt even as he eyed Soren in disbelief.

“Then it should be a short fight.” Soren's rough, confident voice filled the room.

Gian lifted his sword and came at him with decent enough skill, but Soren easily dodged the blade, gripped the boy's shoulder, and planted him face down on the floor. A grunt came from Gian. His sword had been knocked free of his hands.

“Well done, Gian.” Soren pulled him to his feet.

“It didn't feel well done,” Gian mumbled, obviously stunned by his speedy defeat.

“Your body is the most powerful weapon you have, and sometimes the only weapon.” Soren walked the inner circle now, looking each boy in the eye. “You won't always be armed, have a sword when you feed. Do not panic your prey or give humans a reason to take issue with you. Guardian or not, you will not be armed if you walk off this property. Learn the strengths and weaknesses of your body, and you'll live longer.”

The boys looked at each other, uncertainty in their expressions.

“You still don't believe me?” Soren challenged. “Answer me, Dario.”

“You can do more damage with a sword,” the boy with darker, exotic skin answered.

“You want to do damage? Do you know what the deadliest creature alive is?”

“That's easy. It's a demon,” Dario said with a cocky shrug.

“Right, but do you know why?”

“They're stronger,” said one boy.

“They're bigger,” came from another.

“No. It's because they have no conscience, no heart. Those creatures would bleed out a child, given the chance. Demons rarely carry weapons. They don't need them. In all my years, in all the battles I've fought and all the gruesome things I've seen, the weapon that did the most damage were the teeth of a demon.” Soren gripped Dario's shoulder. “Damage is not something to strive for, Dario. If you do, you're no better than a demon.”

The boys stood motionless, eyes wide and fixed on Soren. Clearly this was not the lesson they'd anticipated learning.

She hadn't expected his answer either. Suddenly craving the safety of Soren's home, she backed away from the doorway. If demons could tear a throat apart like a wild jungle cat, then her escape from the demons in Paris would never have happened, if not for Soren.

As dangerous as demons were, Soren had defeated three with his bare hands. A shiver raced up her spine.