Reunion (3 page)

Pushing the door to the guardroom open, she strode in and scanned the faces. She recognised some of them. They all looked stunned to see her. Before she could locate Tynan, he was standing beside her, silent as always. She didn’t acknowledge him, instead she kept her eyes fixed on the others.

“You are to hunt in groups. Bring fresh blood to the house. Timur will not punish you. I have seen to that.” She held their gazes and then whispered out of the corner of her mouth to Tynan, “I need a word in private.”

He nodded and left the room. She waited a moment and then followed him out into the hall. Looking around, she caught a glimpse of him heading into the armoury. She casually walked to it, her whole body shaking with the release of emotions that the idea of speaking to him brought. She knew that with him, she had no chance of remaining cold and business-like. Her heart said that he would never tell anyone about how she acted in private with him, and it seemed to give her feelings free rein to do as they pleased. She couldn’t control them no matter how hard she tried.

It was a dangerous way for her to feel.

“I need a moment,” Tynan said as she entered the room.

The guards gathered there nodded and left without questioning Tynan’s order. He must have gained rank in their time apart. Her eyes traversed the room while she waited, taking in the assortment of swords, spears, bows and axes that lined the dark walls.

She had never liked it in the armoury. It was gloomy and reminded her of death. Her family never took up arms lightly, so being assigned to work in the armoury was almost a punishment. No one came here and the long hours each guard had to work were often passed alone.

Tynan turned to face her.

Marise avoided looking at him for as long as possible and then lifted her eyes to meet his. He looked concerned. She wished he didn’t. She was having enough trouble holding herself together without him encouraging this revolt by her feelings.

He sighed, his broad shoulders heaving with it. He was taller than Jascha and had a far broader build, but other than that they looked so similar. Their hair was black as midnight, although Tynan’s was short, and they were both incredibly handsome, their fine features lending them an unusual air of grace and distinction.

When she had first met Tynan, she had never seen a man as beautiful as he was, until the night she had seen his brother Jascha.

He had made her feel as though her heart was pounding even when that was impossible.

Tynan’s dark eyes searched hers. She was glad that he differed from his brother there too. It meant that he could never wholly remind her of Jascha.

No one had eyes the stunning colour of Jascha’s.

And no one could set her heart on fire with a single look like he could.

Marise paced the room and fought for control, gathering her scattered emotions. This was no time to fall apart, not even if Tynan would keep her secret for her. She had to be strong, as a Law Keeper should be, and stick to procedure on the case. Her old feelings for Jascha shouldn’t be allowed to interfere with her work. Even this meeting with Tynan shouldn’t be taking place.

She convinced herself that if she could get Jascha on the mend again by having this talk with Tynan, then she could get on with her work and forget about him again. Not that she had ever forgotten. He had always been at the back of her mind. The trouble was, now he was at the front of her mind and she couldn’t concentrate. She had to find a way to put him to the back of it again and this seemed like the most reasonable solution.

“They’re feeding him old blood,” she said, barely holding Tynan’s gaze for a split second, but it was long enough to see in his dark eyes that he already knew and he didn’t like it.

She paced across to the other side of the room. Tynan leaned against a table and folded his arms across his chest, making it clear to her that he was waiting to see why she had wanted a word with him.

“Why didn’t you get him fresh blood?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer before stepping up to him, a frown darkening her face. “You should have gone out to hunt regardless of the orders from Timur. You know as well as I that the lord of our bloodline is not thinking clearly. This vampire hunter has made him weak with fear.”

“I did,” Tynan said.

The sound of his voice made her think of Jascha, lying in his death bed with no company and no comfort. She bit back the tears and reminded herself of her duty and her position.

Tynan stepped past her, running his fingers over his short black hair and sighing heavily. “I hunted for the first two nights, but Timur threatened me... if I disobeyed his orders again, I would be tried.”

“Tried?” Marise frowned, trying to understand just what was happening in her house.

“For sins against my bloodline.”

“Ridiculous. The Law Keepers would never condemn you for trying to help your brother.” She turned on the spot, following his progress around the room.

Her senses told her that he was agitated, angry, and she had witnessed how he could be when enraged. Timur had been treading a very fine line with him.

“Were you with Jascha that night?” she said.

He paused, eyes fixed on the floor, shoulders tense.

“No.”

“Did Jascha say anything when they brought him in?” She took a step towards him, torn between giving up her questioning and continuing. She didn’t want to cause him hurt by reminding him of his brother’s plight, but he might be able to give her the answers she needed to make a decision about this case.

“No, nothing coherent.” He hesitated a moment and looked at her. She knew that look. It was about what had happened between her and Jascha. He was scared of bringing up things from the past. “He mentioned your name.”

She froze, feeling as though he had just hit her in the stomach and knocked the wind from her. She hadn’t expected that, but then, when she had gone into the room, Jascha had known it was her and he had called her by her old nickname. He had thought about her all these years too. It wasn’t a ridiculous idea in the slightest. He had been the one willing to reconcile after all.

“Nothing else?” she said, regaining her focus and pushing away from the dark, sharp thoughts trying to creep in at the corners of her mind. She didn’t want to remember that night. She didn’t want to remember how painful it had been and how it had felt to leave him.

“Nothing.”

Marise stared at him, hating how much he looked like his brother. It brought images of Jascha back, lying in that bed, covered in cuts and blood. Stinking like death.

Turning her back on Tynan, she straightened her cuffs and lightly ran her fingers over the marks on her wrist. He had been so gentle with her, even in his dire state. She had expected him to be rough if anything, greedy with hunger, but he had taken barely a sip. It spoke volumes to her, pages about how he didn’t want to hurt her. In a way, it had felt like an apology. She wished she could accept it.

“I have to call this in.” She went to leave but stopped herself and looked at Tynan again. “Jascha needs fresh, strong blood. Hunt for your brother.”

She was about to turn around again when he spoke.

“Did you find out anything from him?” His voice trembled the tiniest amount and his eyes showed her that he wasn’t just worried about his brother—he was worried about her too.

It had felt horrible to see Jascha like that. It still felt horrible. She couldn’t erase the sight of him from her mind and couldn’t imagine how Tynan had felt on seeing him beaten and broken. It must have been worse for him than the night Jascha had been turned and killed, reborn into his world.

She shook her head and gave him an apologetic look, wishing she could bring herself to shrug off the restraints of her position and comfort him.

“He was in too much pain,” she said and then smiled. “He’s speaking Russian at me. The boy still hasn’t learned that I don’t speak the language.”

Tynan smiled but she could see the sadness in it.

“Be careful tonight, Tynan. Whoever did this is still out there.”

Leaving him, she walked along the corridor and up the stairs to the ground floor of the expansive mansion. She tried to gather all the evidence in her head and thought about what she was going to tell the others. She couldn’t leave here without finding out more about this vampire hunter.

She couldn’t leave until she knew Jascha was well again.

S
itting in a small reception room, Marise stared at the telephone and waited for her nerves to settle before she made the call. The room was lit by a single lamp on the desk beside her, throwing long shadows across the room. She stretched out in the worn armchair and told herself that whoever answered the phone wouldn’t be able to tell something was wrong with her from what she was going to say. It was a perfectly acceptable course of action in a situation like this. She had a duty as a Law Keeper, but she had a duty as a leading member of her bloodline too.

She picked up the receiver and dialled the number of her headquarters. It seemed to ring for forever and she mused that if she still had a heartbeat, it would be rocketing right now.

“Hello,” a man said.

She swallowed and told herself not to hesitate. She had to be straightforward and sound as though she was in command or he would suspect something was wrong.

“It’s Marise,” she said, cool and collected.

“Marise, are you home?” he said and she recognised him as Vincent, the Caelestis Law Keeper.

A part of her was thankful that it was him. He would be easier to fool than the Aurorea or Validus Law Keeper.

“I’m here and have made contact with my lord. It appears we are not dealing with a vampire attack. It is something far worse. Two elite guards were killed and a third was beaten to the point of death and now lies dying, unable to recuperate from such extensive injuries.” She paused and swallowed the tight lump in her throat. She had to continue sounding as calm as she had done so far. If she raised suspicion, he could tell her to return and not continue on the case. “Timur was injured, and is now forcing his bloodline to remain indoors.”

“What was responsible for the attack?”

She smiled, glad that he sounded concerned. Her chances of remaining here were increasing.

“Not a what, but a who. It seems to be a message from a human, a vampire hunter.”

He laughed. “No vampire hunter could do this to four of our kind.”

“I assure you they did. I have seen the guard that was left to die. He has confirmed that it was a vampire hunter. I fear that someone has been playing god, but need more time to get the evidence required.” She paused and shifted the phone across to her other ear. “Vincent, I am going to remain here and find this hunter. I will judge for myself whether they are human and if they have been enhanced somehow. We must assess whether they are a threat to us and, if they are, inform the bloodlines.”

“We have our hands full here,” he said and her heart sank as she thought he was going to ask her to come home and assist them. “Investigate, and if you believe this hunter is a threat to our species, kill it.”

She nodded, relief filling her. “I will.”

“Report back when you have determined what we are up against.”

The phone clicked and went dead. She placed the receiver back into the cradle and leaned back into the chair, sighing out her breath and relaxing. What had her comrades so busy? She raised her eyes to the ceiling. Tynan would have returned from his hunt by now. Jascha would finally be getting the blood he needed in order to heal and become strong again. It would only be a few days before she was heading back to headquarters. Could she keep it together that long and resist the temptation Jascha presented? She still needed to see him again and finish her questioning.

But more than that, she needed to make sure he was all right.

* * * *

M
arise looked both ways along the empty corridor and then went still. She reached out with her senses, trying to detect whether anyone was awake yet. It was early afternoon, still hours before the sun would set. There were a scattering of guards around the house, but none of them had paid her much attention.

Satisfied that she was alone, she stared at the dark wood door in front of her. She wrapped her fingers carefully around the brass handle and then turned it slowly and eased the door open. Her stomach flipped and she ignored it, pretending it never happened. She slid into the room and glanced out into the corridor before closing the door and flicking the lock.

The last thing she needed was someone walking in on her.

She turned, extended her senses to Jascha, and smiled to herself when she found he was asleep. She walked over to him and studied his face. He looked healthier today, less pale and more like she remembered him. Picking up the bowl of dirty water from the bedside table, she carried it into the bathroom and emptied it into the sink. She refilled it and grabbed a fresh cloth from the side before going back to the bed.

He hadn’t stirred. Hopefully he would be exhausted from trying to heal himself and would sleep throughout what she was going to do. She feared him finding out more than she feared anyone else in the house. She didn’t want him to get the wrong impression. This couldn’t be about feelings. It was just something she had to do, a whispered urge that had kept her awake all day, begging her to go to him. She put it down to wanting to question him again. If he was on the road to recovery, she could get her answers and get the hell away from her family home.

Sitting beside Jascha, she pulled the covers back to his waist, not daring to go any further in case he was naked. Her stomach turned at the extent of his injuries. The pale light filtering in around the edges of the curtains made everything clearer than the lamp had last night.

Marise dipped the cloth into the fresh cool water and squeezed it out. Careful not to rouse him, she set about cleaning his wounds, dabbing lightly to lift the bloodstains so she could get a better look. There was a lot of bruising across his stomach, the flat plane of it marred with dark spots, some of which surrounded long gashes. She frowned and gently stroked along the length of them, revealing how red raw around the edges they still were.