Mirror: Book One of the Valkanas Clan (26 page)

“Except you did,” I said, starting to panic. Shit, if Tom could control me then I had to break things off now.

Wait,
Aly
, wait. Calm down. When you were scared around Cesar that’s when he could control you, right? Maybe feeling guilty had a similar effect—put a crack in your shields, so to speak.

I relaxed, willing myself to calm down and return to an emotional zero. I’d been bouncing all over the emotional Richter scale today; it was starting to make me reconsider just how important Damian’s earlier advice about not relying on my emotions really was.

Okay, try again,
I told Tom once I felt fully grounded.

Do a cartwheel,
he commanded. I pushed at him with the flat of my hand.

Come on, be serious! I need to know if it was just from how I was feeling or not.

Alright, um…
Tom paused, and I could feel him flipping through possibilities in his mind. Then he grinned.
Kiss me.

The force of his desire swept through me, almost causing me to stagger backward. The urge to kiss him was intense, but I wasn’t sure if it was just my natural reaction to the sudden blast of longing that was filling both of us or an actual response to his command. At first, I didn’t care; I just stepped into him and locked my mouth onto his, enjoying the high of our thoughts mingling even more closely than our bodies were. And then I realized I was failing the test I’d asked for, so, despite every nerve ending screaming at me to stay precisely where I was, I pressed my hands against his chest and forced myself backwards.

I stood there for a moment, almost panting, until I’d convinced myself that, yes, I was capable of resisting his command and, no, I really didn’t want to. He simply watched me, holding completely still, his eyes burning. And then I stepped into him again, picking up where we’d left off.

I was about to tug him upstairs when I heard a car pull into the garage. I sagged, but Tom clutched me closer, demanding every last second of my attention. He released me just as we heard light footsteps approaching the back door.

Valerie walked in first, casting an appraising glance at our flushed cheeks and my tousled hair. She grinned. Damian, following her, either didn’t notice or didn’t care; he simply walked past us and deposited a new box of blood bags into the fridge. A third vampire, unknown to me, came in last. He was tall, with dark curly hair, eyes to match, and alabaster skin. And he absolutely reeked of power.

“Alyson, I would like to introduce you to Marcus, Temora’s second-in-command," Damian said.

Marcus stepped forward, enclosing my hand in a gentle-but-firm grip.

“Alyson, it is so lovely to meet you at last. I am looking forward to seeing you at work,” he said, bending over my palm to brush it lightly with his lips.

Well gee, having an incredibly powerful unknown vampire watching me over my shoulder shouldn’t make that difficult at all
, I thought, and heard Tom’s chuckle echo through my mind. Out loud, I tried a different tack.

“It is an honor to meet you as well,” I replied, suppressing a grin as I heard Tom start coughing to cover his amusement at the disparity between my mental and vocal reactions.

“Are you well, Thomas?” Marcus said, turning.

“Yes, thank you, and you?” Tom said, hastily wiping his coughed-into hand against his shirt before extending it to Marcus. Marcus glanced down at Tom's hand as it were a chewed over dog toy, and did not shake it.

“Every day brings new adventures,” he replied, glancing briefly at me again, before casting his glance around the room. “This is my first time in your current home,” he continued, turning to Valerie and Damian, who were now standing together on the other side of the kitchen counter, “and I must say that, from what I have seen so far, it appears even lovelier than your last.”

“Thank you Marcus," Valerie said. "If you would care for a tour simply say the word.”

“Might we have time for a brief one now?” he asked. Valerie glanced at Damian, and he nodded. “Wonderful,” Marcus said, looking as delighted as a two year old, which I found interesting given how ancient he must be. “Please lead the way.”

As they left, Damian turned to Tom and I.

“I’d like to get everyone up to date. Where are Luis and Samuel?”

“Sam left a few minutes ago to clear his head,” Tom said tactfully. “He didn’t say how long he’d be. I haven’t seen Luis for a while, so I’m not sure if he’s here or not.”

Damian’s brow crinkled with displeasure.

“Luis!” he called out, raising his voice just enough that any vampire within half a block would be able to hear it—though to a human ear it might not even have been labeled a shout.

A moment later, Luis appeared, coming in through the back door.

“Yes,
sire
?”

“Have you seen Samuel?”

“I saw him leaving not too long ago on foot while I was engaged in target practice out back,” Luis said.

“Did he specify when he would be back?”

“No, we didn’t speak. Is everything alright?”

In response, Damian simply flipped out his cell phone and dialed. For someone with fairly arcane speech patterns, he nevertheless had a good control of modern technology—though given his penchant for research, I suppose that shouldn’t really have surprised me.

“Samuel, we are discussing our plans for tonight. Please return to the house immediately,” Damian said, and hung up. Then he turned back to face us. “It is unlike him not to answer. What, exactly, did he need to ‘clear his head’ about?”

I looked uncomfortably at the floor.

“I’m not certain," Tom said, "but I think a conversation we were having unwittingly triggered some painful memories about Samson. When he left he was pretty angry—that’s how the window was broken.”

Damian cast a quick glance at what was left of the window.

Thanks
, I thought, relieved I hadn't needed to explain how I'd acted to Damian.

No problem,
Tom replied,
but I don't see why you feel so guilty about it. You did nothing wrong.

It doesn't feel like that to me.

Tom quirked his eyebrows, clearly waiting for me to explain, but I noticed Damian was staring at us and I put my attention into not looking as guilty as I felt instead.

 ”Luis," Damian said, "please track him down and call me as soon as you find him. I understand that he may not want to be around anyone right now, but we have an obligation to return to Cesar’s tonight given what happened to Joseph. Please let him know that he is welcome to take a month’s leave once this situation has been fully resolved.”

“Sire?”
Luis looked confused. “Why not simply
Call
him to you?”

“I would prefer not to unless it proves necessary," Damian said. "Now go, before he gets any further.”

Luis darted out the door, his running footsteps fading into silence almost immediately.

What was that about?
I asked Tom. The mixture of fatigue and suppressed anger on Damian’s face kept me from voicing my question aloud.

You mean the Calling thing? Damian, as a Master, could forcibly draw Sam, as a vampire who has sworn him allegiance, to him. He prefers persuasion to force, however; he once told me that genuine loyalty was far more important to him than mere fear.

So is that what Cesar was doing to me then, when I was dragged towards his house against my will?
I asked.

Kind of.
Calling doesn’t require telepathy, and since Cesar didn’t Call you until you were close, and he used telepathy simultaneously, I’m betting he needed to combine both of those skills to have any effect on you—and even that combination you were able to break.

So Damian wouldn’t be able to
Call
me?

Probably not, though if he tried I would imagine you might get the strong urge to go to him, if nothing else.

“A-hem,” Damian said, clearing his throat and looking at us drily. “If you two are finished, I would like to show Alyson some pictures of where and how Joseph was found, to see if it might trigger any realizations." He paused. "But first I'd like to know what really happened with Samuel."

"I'm sorry," I said. "It was my fault—"

"No it wasn't," Tom said, cutting me off. "I feel bad for Sam, but it's no reason for him to get a pass on acting like an asshole."

Damian sighed, a look of mild exasperation on his face.

"I can see this will take longer than I thought," Damian said. "We can postpone this discussion for later, then. Alyson's reactions to the photos are more important."

My gut clenched. Initially, I thought it was in response to the thought of looking at pictures of a dead vampire and the murder scene surrounding him. The thought would easily have made my stomach churn as a human, and I didn't see why that sensitivity would have disappeared. But then, as the pain lingered, I realized Dorothy was about to pay me another visit.

Couldn’t you pick a more pleasant way to announce your presence?
I asked Dorothy.
Like the smell of lavender water or something?

I heard a slight chuckle echo through me.
I’m not the one that picked the painful cramping, dear; that was you. Some part of you must not like my visits very much.

Well, they can be a bit disorienting.

She laughed again.
See, it’s yourself you need to convince of the aptness of lavender water. But that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to warn you that this vampire’s murder—

Joseph’s?

—yes, Joseph’s.
It’s some kind of a trap.

But how?
Cesar no longer has anyone but the
elf,
and we now have a number of Temora’s people backing us.

That I can’t tell you.
I only know what I felt as I visited the site earlier, and I felt very clearly that it was a trap.

I felt the clench in my stomach start to lessen, and I panicked.

Wait—did you pick up anything about a magical fertility horn?

A what?
she
asked, her voice fainter than it had been, and fading quickly.

It’s how Cesar has bound the elf, Marielle, to him. It’s made of crystal; we need to find it.

No, I know nothing of that.
Her voice was so faint in my mind I could scarcely hear it anymore. I sighed, wondering if the horn even truly existed, or if Cesar had bound Marielle to him some other way. And then I realized I needed to ask Dorothy one other question.

How can I contact you?

There was no reply.
Of course.
I wasted time joking about lavender water and then didn’t remember to ask a far more important question until it was too late. Maybe I should return to my high school habits (and college, and grad school too, if I was being really honest with myself) of writing things on my hand. Or maybe I could just doodle a little lavender spring on my wrist.