In the Dark (14 page)

Captain Savard was the exception. Though the captain positioned himself at Lord Navarre's side, he wore the same bored expression as at the last meeting. Gustav, on the other hand, was eating this up. He seemed to like creating restlessness among these vampires.

“Gustav.” Soren reached out to his friend as he sat beside him.

He grasped Soren's forearm.

“We're all present, so let's begin,” Navarre said. “I assume this message is from your lord?”

“It is, and I don't want to stay here long, so pay attention. I don't repeat myself,” Gustav replied. “Demons have popped up all over the city. Our guess is over fifty, but they're hard to track. They haven't done much pack hunting, and we've rarely caught them feeding, but they're very comfortable roaming the city. Those not feeding appear to be searching for something in Paris.” He slouched into his chair and rested his head against the back. “That's it. That's the message.”

“I told you she'd bring them here,” Vidor said, pointing a slender finger at Soren.

“She? Wait a minute.” Gustav held his hands up, laughing. “Demons are hunting for something other than people in Paris, and you think they want...what's her name? Faye. Fanny. Oh, for God's sake, Soren, what's the girl's name?”

“Faith.”

“Yeah, her. You think they want her? You people just make this stuff up, don't you?” Gustav slapped his knee as he continued to roar with laughter.

“Soren took the human from them,” Vidor said, voice raised.

The humor fizzled out of Gustav, and he leaned forward in his chair, his attention fixed on Vidor. “Let me educate you. No demon, alone or in a pack, would hunt down an escaped meal. Another bite to eat is always around the next corner. Trust me, they do not want Faith.”

Soren released the breath he'd held as he'd listened intently to Gustav. She was safe. They weren't after Faith.

“You don't know what they're looking for, do you?” Navarre asked, studying Gustav.

“No. And since their searches are random, we don't even have a guess,” Gustav said.

“They must be looking for our cities,” Julian offered.

Gustav rolled his eyes at the suggestion. “We've seen nothing to suggest they have an interest in our cities.”

“What else can they be looking for?” Bareth wondered, shrugging his hefty shoulders.

“Have you warned any of the other cities?” Navarre asked.

Gustav took a deep breath, clearly annoyed with the questions. “No. My lord claims he is not the world's keeper. If you want them warned, that's your call. He won't get involved because no one is actually in danger. He's only warning Balinese because they seem to have come from this direction.”

“Demon migration?” Bareth chuckled.

“Should we warn the other cities?” Julian asked, and everyone waited in silence to hear the lord's answer.

Navarre shook his head slowly. “I don't believe we have a problem at this point.”

“But, my lord, what of Talvane?” Soren asked, and mumbles of agreements rippled through those gathered. “The Guardians of Talvane have always been high in number for the sole reason that the city is within Paris, but it could be found.”

“Talvane is a true concern. Gustav?” Navarre prompted.

Gustav shrugged. “They haven't gone near it yet.”

“Then my decision remains the same. We will not warn the cities. It's possible those creatures could've been chased from their homes. Our history is riddled with such instances, and theirs would be as well. I will not panic entire cities needlessly. Especially as we've had minimal communication between cities these past decades. We will step up the guard on our gates. Gustav, will you send us word of any change in the demon searches?”

“I doubt I'll have a choice,” he huffed.

Chapter 13

Faith walked down the hall, her boots hitting the stone floor in a solid rhythm. She had a purpose. She'd never been as emotionally unhinged as she was today, and she regretted being rude to Elin. She deserved an apology.

Cracking open the door, she peered in. Elin stood at a sink and tossed a handful of bloodied tools into water.

Faith might be clinging to her grudge against Soren, but she hoped that wasn't his blood. She gave the door a couple raps. “Excuse me, Doctor?”

“Doctor? I'm not even a nurse,” Elin said, flashing her an amused smile.

Okay, back to not liking this woman. “Then how did you get this position?”

“I can sew.” Honest pride filled her voice.

“That's the extent of your qualifications? Sewing?”

“To be honest, I don't want this for my life.” Elin laughed, but after Faith's combative glare, threw her hands up in defeat. “Listen, take it easy. My father is the doctor and the surgeon. It's a family thing I've sort of been chin-deep in since I was a child. I handle the day to day normal, and Dad gets the surgical stuff. It's not like our kind die often, anyway. Soren was perfectly safe.”

A reasonable explanation. She hadn't actually considered what kind of medical attention a vampire would require. Luckily, it was minimal. “I thought I was helping him. I didn't know I would make it worse. I'm sorry.” With a short smile, she turned to leave.

“Why don't you sleep with him and get it over with?” Elin asked.

Faith stopped, sputtered, then finally spit out a distorted, “What?”

“You want him. He wants you. It's a simple equation.”

It didn't get much more blunt than that. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“I've waited my whole life for a man look at me the way Soren looks at you. He's a good man,” Elin said as she rinsed off the bloody tweezers.

“He's not exactly a man.” She couldn't stop staring at the pinkish-red water falling from Elin's fingers.

“He didn't choose to become vampire, he was born to it. He can't help what he is any more than you can help being human.” Elin turned, pointed a soapy, accusatory finger at her. “And you didn't seem to mind him being vampire when he had his teeth sunk into your neck, did you?”

Unable to answer her question, Faith turned and left, closing the door loudly behind her. The truth was, she hadn't minded at all. She'd enjoyed his bite, and that unnerved her more than anything.

She'd imagined the worst, a brutal puncture and severed veins, but it had been nothing more than a sweet sting. Not frightening in the least. And then with his talented lips he'd tugged gently, taking what he needed, building her desire with each little pull. If she'd had any strength left, she would have turned her head and offered the other side. Chilled hands pressed to her face, she cooled her cheeks.

After Julian had announced he needed blood, she'd been shaken, and ignored Soren's protests. That, or deep down she didn't want to hear them. Maybe part of her needed to experience exactly what she might be getting into with him.

She'd practically demanded he bite her. Though she'd been fully aware of him at her neck, she only remembered a hazy bliss.

Once inside Soren's home, she made a beeline to the bathroom mirror. The large mirror caught her image from mid-thigh on up. A muted blush covered her cheeks, and a tiny smile turned up the corners of her lips. The bite had mostly healed, leaving behind a couple reddish marks on her skin.

A twinge of guilt hit her. She'd been holding back, terrified he would hurt her with something more devastating than his bite. She should let go and let it happen, like Elin suggested.

A cool draft crossed her shoulders and goose bumps spread over her arms. Faith looked around. Where had it come from? The city had been built completely underground. Windows didn't exist here.

In the the dresser, she dug through the clothes until she found her favorite blue sweatshirt. While zipping it, the cold air hit her again. She shot over to the thermostat. Seventy degrees. Plenty warm.

Through the perfectly still air, that chilling breeze brushed across her skin, almost like a gust in the wake of someone passing by. How could that happen? She was alone.

She shivered, darting glances here and there. The cool air seemed to follow her around the room, and she couldn't shake the uneasiness building in her gut. Her skin positively crawled, and not because of the cold. She had a creepy feeling that the walls watched her.

The door opened and Soren walked through. The cool air suddenly dissipated, which did nothing to soothe her ramped-up fears. She ran to him.

“Faith?”

When she launched herself into his arms, he dropped his bag and held her. “What's this, now?” he crooned gently.

“Where were you?” she asked, clinging to him.

“Meeting with the council. Why?” He tried to pull them apart and look at her face, but she couldn't let go.

“Something's in here,” she whispered.

He stilled. “Why would you think that?”

“There can't be drafts in here, it's not possible, but I kept feeling cool breezes. And I could have sworn someone was watching me. I wanted you here,” she rambled, then tucked her head under his chin.

His muscles grew rigid against her. She peeked at him from her haven and anxiousness returned as with frightening intensity, he searched the room.

“How long ago?” he asked quietly.

“Just now. What's wrong?”

“Do you see the red button on the wall there, by the thermostat?”

“Yes.” She'd noticed the odd waist level placement of the button, but hadn't asked, assuming it was a fire alarm.

“If that happens again, especially being cold, push that button. It will call the Guardians to this room. You'll be protected. When they arrive, tell them everything. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded. If the cold air upset Soren enough to map out emergency procedures, then this was bad. “What was in here?”

Soren continued to scan the room as he whispered, “When a vampire takes their Spirit form, they become invisible, like a living ghost. A Spirit can walk through walls and locked doors. They can go anywhere without being seen or detected, but when their body is in Spirit, it's colder than the air around them. The person, their Spirit, is that cold air.”

“Someone was watching me?”

“Possibly, but I can't think of who or why. I don't like this. I can't fight what I can't see.” He growled his frustration, then focused on her and cradled her face in his hands. “I refuse to sugarcoat the situation for you. This scares the hell out of me. I don't want you leaving my side. If you do, you'll be guarded.”

She nodded, in complete agreement with him.

“We're going to find Captain Savard. Right now.” He took her hand and, together, they left his home.

They hadn't gone far when they came across Navarre leaning on the railing overlooking the pond. He turned as he heard their approach.

“Have you seen Captain Savard?” Soren asked from a distance.

“He never lets me enjoy my pond alone,” Navarre said with a grin, then pointed to his left. “He's right around the corner.”

The captain stepped into view, his hand settled on his sword hilt.

“There was a damn Spirit in my home,” Soren said in a growling tone.

Captain Savard darted down the hall and disappeared into Soren's home.

Navarre straightened, a dark shadow crossing his face. “You're certain?”

“No,” Soren admitted. “I have no proof. Faith was alone, but what she described has no other explanation than a Spirit.”

Captain Savard emerged, shaking his head slowly. “There's nothing now. Damn, I hate chasing Spirits.”

“Thank God few can change.” Navarre rubbed his chin.

“You sure you didn't see anyone?” Captain Savard asked her.

“I'm sure. Just cold breezes and a creepy feeling,” she admitted, relieved that they took her seriously, because to her ears, she sounded like a crazy person.

“She didn't see anything, Soren.” Captain Savard slid his fingers through his dark hair, looking frustrated. “I can't do a lot with only a description of cold breeze to go on.”

“I could post Guardians at your door,” Navarre mused, “but it won't accomplish much if this person can take Spirit.”

“No. Balinese needs Guardians at the gate.” Soren shook his head. “Just add a man to patrol this end for a day or two.”

Though his mind seemed otherwise occupied, the captain nodded sharply. “Done.”

As the captain's eyes settled on her, she leaned on Soren. Concern hadn't left Savard's young features from the moment he'd taken off and searched Soren's home.

Lord Navarre obviously recognized that look. “What is it, Captain? Can you find a Spirit?”

“No, but walking in Spirit would weaken even a strong vampire. What I can find is a worn out bastard who needs to feed,” the captain said with a determined nod, now on a mission.

* * * *

Soren's weight settled onto the mattress, and Faith rolled, threw her arm over his stomach and pressed her face against his shoulder. He lifted his arm, and she snuggled closer to his side. She needed him to hold her.

Though she clung to his warm, bare chest, the heat of his body wasn't enough. She shivered once, twice, then tugged the blanket over her shoulders.

“What...what is it?” he mumbled, half asleep.

“Cold,” she murmured.

He shifted sharply, jarring her awake. A pained masculine cry rang through the room, drowning out her sleepy protests.

“Soren?” Afraid he'd been hurt, she reached out. What had happened? He didn't answer her, and when she found his face in the dimly lit room, his murderous gaze stared past her. Oh, God, it hadn't been Soren who'd cried out.

Soren's sword hilt was clenched in his hand. Faith followed the sharp blade to its end. The sword's tip had sunk deep inside a man with glowing red eyes.

Loud and long, she screamed. Petrifaction set in, and she watched in horror as the man reached for her. Each time his hand stretched toward her, Soren's blade went further through his shoulder. The sword wasn't stopping him.

Soren lunged over her, left her alone in the center of the bed and pushed the red-eyed man away from her. No, he wasn't a man. This was a demon.

The demon fought wildly, twisting himself sharply to gain the upper hand. Soon both men crashed to the floor. The sword followed with a muffled thud. A head rose above the level of the mattress, an elbow, but she couldn't decipher who belonged to what.

Suddenly they were upright, on their feet for a second round. She couldn't separate them in the dark. One threw the other against the wall. Hard. For a moment, everything went still.

Soren pinned the demon to the wall, but her sense that everything would now turn out fine shattered as the creature smiled, fangs gleaming. Its red eyes found her in the dark.

Soren slammed his fist against the demon's face. Breaking her contact with the demon, he then drove his fist into its injured shoulder. The demon howled.

“Faith!” His strained voice yanked her focus back on him. “Push the button.”

She flew off the bed and across the room, smacked the button. Nothing happened. No lights, no sirens. Two more times, then she flattened her back against the wall.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she was able to make out both men. Soren punched the demon, his fist landing heavily on the creature's jaw. It sent the demon to the floor. Then both dove after the sword.

Faith bit her lip. Through grunts, growls, and muffled punches, she waited silently. She refused to be the distraction that could cost Soren his life.

The door burst open, and the light from the hallway caught Soren's bare back. Then everything around her moved in slow motion.

Five or six men ran into the room, not one of them paying her any heed. Soren had his hands around the demon's throat, and it took everyone present to separate him from the demon. Or had it been the other way around? The rest of the men swarmed around the demon.

Two Guardians wrestled with Soren, doing their best to keep him at bay. More than once he'd struggled to break free and finish off the demon.

“Hit an artery!” someone yelled.

Who gave the command, she didn't know, but they quickly obeyed. Then a flash of steel glinted.

Within several seconds the demon sagged, leaning on the Guardians for support. They locked their arms around the creature and hauled it out the door, having no choice but to take the demon past her.

They came near, and it lunged for her, gleaming red eyes flaring brighter. She cried out, instinctively covering her face. A Guardian stepped between them and punched the demon with the hilt of his sword, disorienting the creature and preventing it from touching her.

She slid to the floor, closed her eyes, and hugged her knees to her chest. Her body shook, but she wasn't cold. Not anymore.

* * * *

In one violent twist, Soren threw the men off him and ran to Faith. She shuddered and cried, rocking back and forth, gaze fixed on the floor.

Kneeling before Faith, he pushed her hair off her face, stroking her cheeks as he spoke. “Look at me, Faith. I need you to look at me.”

She finally did, and with a choked sob, threw herself at him, wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as her tears fell.

“It's gone, Faith. We're going somewhere else tonight,” he said softly, but she didn't acknowledge him, just kept crying.

He stroked her hair, the soothing, slow rhythm doing them both a world of good.

“Soren,” Captain Savard held out his hand, a single key in the center of his palm. “Take my home. I won't be returning tonight.”

“I owe you, Captain,” he said, then scooped Faith up fast and carried her away.