Night's Honor (10 page)

He said, “They're here.” Tess joined the others as they peered out. Three gleaming vehicles, all of them black, pulled into the parking lot, and several people climbed out.

Xavier was immediately apparent, with his slim figure and erect carriage. He walked toward the second vehicle as a tall, striking blonde woman climbed out along with two other Light Fae. The woman was dressed in a dark-colored, elegantly cut suit, while her silvery high heels caught the light and sparkled.

Recognition struck. Tess felt like reality took a sharp skid sideways, sending her hurtling into a dream. She murmured faintly, “Is that Melisande Aindris, the actress? Didn't she star in that zombie movie
They Ate New York
?”

Marc glanced at her. “Yes. Her mother, the Light Fae Queen, owns Northern Lights Studios.”

“I knew that,” she muttered. “I just forgot.”

Three more figures emerged from the third vehicle. Tess recognized one of them as well, the beautiful redhead who had kept her female attendant on a leash at the Vampyre's Ball.

“And there's Justine,” said Marc.

The redheaded woman spun in a slow circle, looking around the property. As she turned toward the attendants' house, Marc snapped the blinds closed.

“Show's over. The blinds and curtains stay shut now, until we get the all clear.” Marc looked at Tess. “You know, you might as well go to bed. As far as we're concerned, nothing else is going to happen tonight.”

Bristling at the thought of being sent to bed like a child, Tess lingered downstairs for close to an hour, but the others settled down to watch TV or open their laptops again. The only difference from earlier was that they did so with weapons close to hand.

Eventually inactivity allowed for exhaustion to creep back in. It weighed down her limbs and eyelids, until she muttered a good night to the others and went up to her room.

Troubled, she put on a nightshirt that came to the top of her thighs, brushed her teeth, poured a glass of water and climbed into bed.

All of her instincts felt askew.

Who was the monster now? Justine, Xavier, or both?

Certainly they were both old, dangerous and incomprehensible to her, but while they might be enemies, that didn't make one of them good and the other one evil. It was possible, even likely, that they were simply two different kinds of evil.

While she tried to puzzle it out, a black tide crept over her and washed it all away, and for a few hours she forgot all her fears and uncertainties.

Then her nightmares returned. First one of her foster fathers, the one who had loved to swing his belt, chased her around a huge, shadowy house. Then Malphas appeared to greet her with an angelic smile.

“Tess.” He strolled toward her. “You know how this story ends.”

“No,” she said.

“Oh, yes.”

She tried to run, but her feet sank into a deep mud, and then he caught her and set her world on fire.

SIX

D
renched in sweat, she plunged awake, surrounded by darkness in a strange room.

No. Her chest heaved. Malphas couldn't have caught her so soon.

As she looked around wildly, reality asserted itself. The red illuminated numbers on the bedside clock read 3:16
A.M
. She was in her new room at Xavier's estate, her sheets damp with sweat. The room felt airless and hot as an oven.

Kicking off the covers, she climbed out of bed and felt for one of the vents close to the floor. Hot air blew out of it. She was going to cook if she didn't get the heat turned down.

She slipped on her robe, left the room and searched for a thermostat. Lights shone from another part of the house. Very dimly, she could hear sound, perhaps music, either coming from another area in the house or perhaps from one of the other buildings, while the area around her bedroom was shadowed and quiet.

When she found the thermostat, the temperature had been set for seventy-two degrees, which was far too hot for her at night. After only a brief hesitation, she thumbed it down to sixty-five then reluctantly went back to her small, closed-in room.

She didn't have to stay in the bedroom. No doubt the basement would be much cooler, but she knew if she went downstairs, she would run into someone again. She was tired of dealing with so many strangers and all the odd tensions from the day and evening, and she needed privacy badly.

Reluctantly, she closed the door, but that made the heat even worse.

Now that she was fully awake, she could hear the sounds more clearly. Music played from the direction of the main house. She walked over to the small sink to splash cold water on her face and arms as she fought an almost overwhelming desire to peek through her curtains.

That was against The Protocol.

But why was that The Protocol? Was it to keep hostile Vampyres from mesmerizing anyone inside the attendants' house? If so, why couldn't they open the windows and doors at daybreak, when all the Vampyres would be cloistered from the sun?

Raoul had been so urgent about getting her back to the house, and Marc had been very clear. They were to remain in seclusion and not show their faces outside until they were told otherwise.

Was that to keep them safe, or to keep others from seeing them? But why keep them hidden from view, even in the daytime? It wasn't as if keeping a household of attendants was a secret practice.

Earlier she had felt like something was slightly off at the estate, and that feeling washed over her again. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was. She didn't know enough yet, but something didn't add up, and wasn't that typical—she had gone looking for a safe shelter and ended up in a place that felt full of hidden pitfalls and unexpected dangers.

And the temperature in her room was simply unbearable. A trickle of sweat slid between her shoulder blades.

She sidled over to one of her windows, not the one that faced toward the main house, but the other one that faced the cluster of pines bordering the top of the bluff.

How stupid would it be if she kept the curtains closed but cracked the window for a little fresh air, just long enough to cool down her room?

It might be pretty stupid. But she couldn't make herself believe that anyone was paying attention to whether or not she cracked open a window. There was one hostile Vampyre in residence on the estate, with possibly two attendants, and they all had much better things to do than focus on this unobtrusive corner of the property. Besides, as concerned as Raoul had been, she was quite sure he was having Diego and the others watch their visitors closely.

Having talked herself into doing what she wanted to do anyway, she slipped her hands around the edge of the curtains and felt along the top of the window until she found the latch. She tried easing the window up, and it slid open quietly.

Cool, fresh air blew in around the edges of the curtain. Sighing in relief, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor between the bed and the nightstand. Just a few minutes more and she would shut the window again. Nobody would ever know the difference.

Now she could hear the music more clearly. Were they using the ballroom? She didn't dare open the curtains to look—she was stretching things as it was—but in her mind's eye, she imagined Xavier, Justine and Melisande in that jewel of a room, elegant and deadly.

Why had Melisande and Justine come, and why had Xavier allowed it? What were they saying to each other?

When she heard voices, it took a few seconds for her to realize they weren't in her imagination.

Where on earth were they coming from? While she didn't move the curtains, she knew from memory there wasn't anything outside the window except for a narrow strip of land with pines and shrubbery along the top of the bluff. Beyond that lay the beach.

Rolling onto her knees, she edged close to the open windowsill and strained to listen, and that was when she realized the voices came from the beach. By some trick of acoustics, the wind carried them up the bluff.

“. . . and I'm glad you came.” Xavier's calm, quiet voice was quite distinctive.

A shiver ran along Tess's skin. Just hearing his voice affected her profoundly in ways she didn't understand.

“I'm glad I came too,” a woman said. Her voice was beautiful and melodious, and even though Tess was hearing it outside of a movie theatre, it still sounded familiar. “I love your place. It's so lovely and peaceful here. Los Angeles is such a rat race.”

“You're welcome to visit any time, Melly,” Xavier said. He sounded warm, even affectionate. The difference from how he had spoken with Tess was shocking. “We would love to have you come back. I've missed you.”

“Thank you. I've missed you too.”

A short silence followed. Were they hugging?

Oh lord, they weren't kissing, were they?

Slowly and carefully, so that she didn't make any noise that sharp Vampyre hearing might pick up, Tess leaned forward until her forehead connected with the wall. She wanted to bang her head repeatedly.

Please don't let this be some sort of romantic assignation, she thought. I don't want to hear that. I really, really don't.

She started to realize how trapped she was. She couldn't shut the window, because she wasn't supposed to have it open to begin with, and no matter how quietly it might slide back into place, Xavier might hear it.

And, with the window open, the sound might carry too much if she moved around or tried to slip out of her room. After all, if she could hear them, they would definitely be able to hear her. Both the Vampyre and the Light Fae woman had senses that were so much sharper than hers.

Easing down to the floor, she sat with her knees up and her back to the wall, and put her head in her hands.

“I know I shouldn't have lost my temper earlier,” Melisande said. “And in front of the whole Nightkind council too.”

“Well, Julian shouldn't have lost his temper either,” Xavier replied. “The most important thing is that you both move on from it.”

“He's always been inflexible, but I don't remember him being so scathing.” The Light Fae woman sounded utterly miserable. “Or at least he wasn't when we were together, until the very end. He always believed I cheated on him, but I didn't.”

In the darkened bedroom, Tess started to chew on a fingernail. This wasn't a romantic assignation at all, but listening to them felt just as uncomfortable. She really hated that a part of her had perked up and gotten curious.

“I've always been sorry that things ended between you the way they did,” Xavier said. “You were good for him.”

“Was I? Thank you for saying that, but he would probably disagree with you.”

“Julian and I don't always agree with each other. You lightened him up, and he laughed. He doesn't laugh anymore.”

There was another pause, and when Melisande spoke next, she sounded very sober. “He's in real trouble, isn't he?”

“Things have gotten tense over the last year, especially since he's broken from Carling.”

Who's Carling? Tess wondered. Was she another ex? Julian, you dog.

Melisande asked, “Can't they repair their relationship, now that Carling has found some way to heal herself? She
is
better now, isn't she? While she might be retired from the Elder tribunal, she's still Julian's sire.”

Tess finished biting off one fingernail and started on another. She didn't know many details about Elder politics, but she did remember the high points that had hit the major news channels.

The previous summer had been full of upheaval for several of the Elder demesnes. The Lord of the Wyr had taken a mate, the Dark Fae King had been killed, and Julian had banished one of the original founders of the Nightkind demesne. From what Xavier and Melisande were discussing, it sounded like that might have been Carling.

“Whether or not Julian and Carling can mend fences remains to be seen,” Xavier replied.

Melisande laughed softly. “You're always the soul of discretion. You have this knack for saying things without really saying anything. I can tell things are strained between Julian and the Nightkind council, and I know you weren't happy with the thought of playing host to Justine tonight. I apologize for creating the situation.”

“Don't worry about it, Melly. You weren't the only one responsible for what happened, and even if you were, it was worth it to get the pleasure of your company for one night. Besides, I can handle Justine.”

He sounded so unruffled, so confident. Tess remembered what Marc had said.

Justine is dangerous, but Xavier is too.

Either the cool night air or her own thoughts caused her to shiver. She reached up to grope along the surface of the bed for her throw. When her fingers encountered the soft chenille material, she pulled it toward her.

The throw slid off the bed and brought one of the pillows along with it. The pillow hit the nightstand and knocked into her water glass and the alarm clock. Both items hit the hardwood floor with a loud clatter.

Tess froze and broke into a light sweat. She didn't dare even breathe.

So, okay. That happened.

Maybe they wouldn't notice. They were closer to the water, and things must sound quite different on the beach.

Melisande said, “What was that?”

“Nothing important, I'm sure,” Xavier said. He sounded almost bored. “Let's head back to the house before Justine comes looking for us. We can open a bottle of Chateau Briot. Tell me, are you going to New York for the Sentinel Games?”

“Those Games are the Elder Races event of the century. I wouldn't miss them for the world. Are you going?”

“I hadn't committed yet, but I've just made up my mind to go.”

“We must get together while we're there. I'm leaving in a week.”

Still talking, they moved away until Tess couldn't hear them anymore.

She couldn't bear to leave the window open any longer. Kneeling, she eased the window shut and groped for the alarm clock and the glass to set them on the nightstand again. A large puddle of water had sprayed over the floor.

Tess, she thought, you might be geek-smart, but you are not as bright as you claim to be. Try to get smarter before you die.

Tossing the pillow and the throw onto the bed, she eased over to the bedroom door. Earlier, she had noticed a linen closet down the hall that held plenty of extra sheets, towels and washcloths. Grabbing a towel, she headed back into her room and closed the door.

“You forgot to latch the window,” Xavier said.

From inside her room.

Shock bolted through every one of her nerve endings. Even as she managed to swallow her scream, she leaped backward like a scalded cat and her back hit the wall with a
thump
.

The bedside light clicked on, and light assaulted her eyes.

The window was wide open and the curtain pulled back. Xavier sat on her bed, his back propped against the headboard and legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He was dressed simply in the white shirt and black trousers that he had worn earlier, but even that plain outfit seemed impossibly formal and extremely masculine against the backdrop of the rumpled bedcovers.