The Den of Shadows Quartet (41 page)

A glance revealed red marks where Gabriel’s grip had held her. She flexed the wrist, but it was only bruised, nothing more. “One of your guests corrected my misuse of your name,” she answered. “It was my mistake.”

“I take it your old master wasn’t overly fond of titles?”

Honestly, she answered, “Only his.” Lord Daryl had not expected her to speak of others of his kind at all. Referring to another vampire as “master” or “milord” in front of Lord Daryl would get her beaten, as if she was acknowledging ownership by another as opposed to him.

Jaguar shook his head. “Please, sit down.” He motioned to one of the free chairs as he collapsed back into his own. Turquoise took a seat, though she could not begin to relax as easily as Jaguar did. “Did you come to keep me company, or do you have a question?”

“I spoke to Eric about getting an assignment,” she explained, grateful to change the subject. “He wanted me to ask you if I could work outside, since he needs the most help there.”

Jaguar paused, and his gaze flickered down her form. “Jeshickah knows you aren’t broken. She’ll feel the need to correct that error much more quickly if you’re working outside. You don’t want to encourage
her to do that,” he recommended. “What other jobs does Eric have?”

“He said cleaning or bleeding.”

“Neither of which sounds very fun for you,” Jaguar offered.

Turquoise did not argue with him, even though he was more than half wrong. There were humans who chased after vampires all their lives, addicted to the sweet, intoxicating rush of having their blood drawn. It could be very pleasant, if the vampire wanted it to be.

Perhaps that was why it frightened some hunters so much. It took effort to live, to fight for one’s life and one’s pride. It was too tempting to simply relax and let the blood flow. Too tempting to let yourself slip up in a fight.

Turquoise shook the thoughts from her mind. She had no desire to die, and she certainly had no desire to become some vampire’s pet bleeder. She only had to look at the scars on her arms to remind her why.

Like all hunters, she hated putting herself in the prey’s position, but unlike most, she did not mind letting a little blood if doing so was an occupational necessity A bleeder in Midnight would be closer to the vampires than any other human.

“I was a bleeder before Nathaniel bought me,” Turquoise explained, modifying the truth as necessary. Lord Daryl had taken her blood occasionally but he had owned a score of other slaves for such practical matters. She had been more like a lapdog in his manor, ornamental but essentially ineffective.

Jaguar looked surprised. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Turquoise reminded herself that he was a professional, and decided to keep the lies to a minimum. “My first master wasn’t much in the way of a trainer, but he did teach me not to fight his orders. After that …” She shrugged. “It isn’t unpleasant, and it’s a lot better than some of the alternatives.” Turquoise had seen slaves whose sole purpose was as beating posts to their masters’ rage. She knew many who would argue, but she would rather feel teeth at her throat than a fist in her gut any day.

“If you want into that group, go ahead,” Jaguar answered, either taking Turquoise’s story for the truth or not caring about the lie. “Most of them take the sunrise meal for supper, sleep most of the day, and do as they want at night. Your only other chore is to stay healthy.” He continued, “Several of my kind already reside in Midnight, and Jeshickah and Gabriel have both been threatening to move in. Theron doesn’t like titles — he generally doesn’t want to be addressed by humans at all, so that shouldn’t be a problem — but any of the others will hit you if you forget one. If you run across Daryl, tread lightly; his temper is unpredictable.” Turquoise was very proud of herself — she kept breathing, kept standing, and kept her expression the same, even hearing that name. “Avoid Gabriel unless you’re fond of pain. You aren’t, correct?” he asked worriedly.

She rubbed absently at her wrist as she shook her head. “I never have been.”

“There are a few others who come and go, so don’t be surprised if one of them pulls you aside. I’ll tell the guards on the west wing not to challenge you.” Jaguar
paused, and she could see indecision on his face before he said, “You can go if you want to.”

It was not a command, and she wondered why he was offering the permission. He had already made it clear that she could speak freely, and she assumed asking to leave was within the realm of what she could say.

Absently, she brushed back some of the hair from her face, and she saw as Jaguar’s eyes followed how the long strands slid across her throat. Though his dark skin did not show pallor as clearly as Lord Daryl’s had, Turquoise could tell Jaguar had not fed yet, and she recognized the hungry look in his black eyes.

Testing, she stood, the movement appearing reluctant. “I’ll leave you to your work if you’d like.”

He answered the way she had expected him to. Not raising his gaze from her throat, he said, “Come here.” Though the words were an order, the tone left room for argument.

For a moment, Turquoise almost felt guilty She was intentionally manipulating him. A feeding vampire is an easy target; most of them completely lost sense of their surroundings as they drew blood. Jaguar did not even try to catch her mind as his lips fell to her throat. If she had been armed, it would have been revoltingly easy to kill him.

J
AGUAR RELEASED
T
URQUOISE
reluctantly, holding her wrists until he was sure she could stand on her own. She took a deep breath and leaned back against a wall. He had taken a little more than she would have lost in a hospital blood donation, but it was enough to make her light-headed.

The sound of a throat being cleared in the doorway brought her back to her senses. When she saw who stood there, an instant of frozen panic shoved the fuzziness aside.

Lord Daryl. He wore his customary steel-toed boots; just seeing them made Turquoise’s ribs ache in memory. She knew his charcoal gray pants would be dry clean only, as would the blue silk shirt. His hair reflected any color around him like a raven’s feathers, and just now it appeared black with blue highlights.

His features looked sculpted from ivory with just a faint flush — he had fed tonight, but not recently.

And he was beautiful. Why were vampires always beautiful?

In her years as a hunter, she had looked for answers to this. She knew many of them had been changed because their beauty attracted attention. She knew that the vampiric blood erased all the little human flaws, smoothed the skin, firmed the muscle, and in general perfected their form. But knowing intellectually was not the same as seeing.

Beautiful like the Devil, and twice as frightening. Turquoise’s heart was suddenly pounding so hard she could feel it against her temples; she knew Jaguar and Lord Daryl both would be able to hear it, but she could not focus enough to slow it. Two years of Bruja training might as well never have occurred.

“What do you want, Daryl?” Jaguar snapped. Clearly, he did not like his guest. He held Turquoise against himself, either protectively or possessively Turquoise liked to think it was the first. But Jaguar’s protection had its dangers, too. Lord Daryl had always been jealous.

“New acquisition?” Lord Daryl bit out, his gaze falling on Turquoise with instant recognition before it rose to meet Jaguar’s in blatant hatred.

“A gift from Jeshickah. What do you want?” Jaguar repeated, his feelings for Daryl mirroring Daryl’s for him.

“Has Jeshickah decided whether she is going to stay?” Lord Daryl responded, apparently in no hurry to get to the point.

Jaguar shook his head. “She hasn’t told me her
plans. If you’ve got nothing better to do than chat, Daryl, I must ask you to leave. I have work.” Daryl started to argue, but did not manage to get a word out before Jaguar added, “Dismissed, Daryl,” in a voice so cold it made gooseflesh rise on Turquoise’s arms.

Lord Daryl stalked out, fury written in every movement.

“You can just order him around like that?” Turquoise asked, before she could bite her tongue to stop herself.

“Supposedly, everyone in this building is under my command.”

“Why supposedly?”

“There are always exceptions,” Jaguar answered dryly.

Jeshickah, Turquoise guessed. And maybe Gabriel.

“Go find something to entertain yourself with, Audra,” Jaguar sighed. “I should speak to Jeshickah before Daryl goes whining to her.”

Jaguar preceded her into the hallway, which Turquoise entered only with great trepidation. Lord Daryl had barely acknowledged her in Jaguar’s presence, but he had recognized her. If he caught her alone she imagined no leniency.

Turquoise halted in the hallway and watched Jaguar leave, leaning back against the wall as if a bit faint, until she could focus and plan her next move.

Lord Daryl was an unexpected danger she would have to cope with. She had her own agenda, to accomplish with or without him in the way.

Right now, she wanted to see the courtyard. She could check the door to the south wing, but she imagined it would be inaccessible at this time, as too many
people would be within sight. She would never be able to pick the lock and get inside without being seen.

As she stepped into the hallway on her way to the south wing, Turquoise bit back a curse. Ravyn. Whatever she was doing here, it wasn’t in line with their plan to lay low until they understood what was going on.

Ravyn didn’t seem to be in trouble yet, but she looked pretty near. Gabriel was leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and regarding Ravyn with skepticism as she spoke.

Huffily Ravyn turned away and started toward the south wing; her vampiric companion grabbed her arm, pulling her back. Turquoise started to approach, but Ravyn caught her eye and shook her head minutely. She did not look distressed, so Turquoise would let her handle this on her own.

Turquoise returned to her room and paced, waiting for Ravyn. Her energy was ferocious behind the docile front she had to display; she wanted to fight something. She was anxious to complete their mission and leave; she was doubly anxious to know what trouble Ravyn had gotten them into.

Jeshickah couldn’t be that difficult a target. Jaguar detested her so Turquoise doubted he would protect her. All Turquoise needed was a knife and a moment of opportunity.

Of course, if she misjudged and Jaguar did get in the way, he would probably have to go, too.

Finally the door opened, and Ravyn sauntered in. The girl looked a bit pale, tired, but pleased as punch.

“What was that?” Turquoise immediately snapped.

Ravyn just stretched, yawned, and without bothering with pajamas climbed up to her bed. “It’s almost sunrise, Turquoise. Get some sleep.”

Sleep? Strangling Ravyn seemed once again like a very good idea.

“Ravyn —”

“I am tired,” Ravyn responded. “And incidentally I have a plan. Let me sleep, and I’ll tell it to you. Later.” She pulled the pillow over her head.

Damn that girl.

Sunrise. Most of the vamps would be bedding down to sleep. They weren’t comatose under the sun, but a sleeping vampire was still an easier target than a fully conscious one. Sunrise would have been a perfect time to execute whatever Ravyn’s plan was.

Turquoise stalked out of the room. The kitchen was full of people eating dinner. She joined them, and lingered until the kitchen closed, at which point most people retreated to their rooms to sleep.

She spent an hour in the exercise room, and then took a quick shower and changed, by which time it was late morning and the wing was almost empty. She remembered Eric mentioning that not enough people were awake to make a noontime meal worthwhile, so midday seemed to be the best time to make an attempt at the courtyard.

Turquoise had snatched a large safety pin and a pen from Katie’s office earlier. Unbending the pin and pulling the shirt clip from the pen provided a low-tech but workable pick set, which she quickly employed on the courtyard door.

The lock wasn’t particularly complicated, about as sophisticated as most house locks. Turquoise’s tools were less than wonderful, but she had practiced this art a great deal, and within three minutes she felt the telltale click of success.

T
HE COURTYARD WAS STUNNING
.

The area was surrounded by the walls of Midnight, their natural stone texture enhanced with crawling ivy, and the ground beneath her feet was soft with thick green moss, dotted with smooth gray stones that rose in tempting seats. Low-growing trees decorated the ground, young willows and Japanese maples that bowed gracefully to their visitor. Slender irises grew from the edge of a small pool, their blooms past but their green leaves rising regally from their mossy bank.

I can see why someone would want to protect a place such as this
. However, she could not see why Jaguar — a trainer, a slave trader, and a vampire — would care for the beauty of irises and ivy, no matter how kind a master he seemed.

She entered the courtyard with careful but quick steps, keeping her eyes open for anyone else that might be here. Jaguar was probably asleep at this hour, but
she did not know if any humans or shape-shifters had permission to be inside these walls.

She was nearly at the center of the courtyard when a rustling of leaves caused her to turn, her excuses already on her lips.

“I was just …” The words died, useless.

The animal stalked silently from the grove of willows, its dark-amber eyes regarding her carefully.

Turquoise was no expert on felines; she simply knew this one was big. The creature was probably longer than she was tall. It stretched lazily and she saw extended claws press into the moss; one swipe could probably take off her hand. She didn’t know enough to identify the breed by its spots, but considering the master of this place, she could make a reasonable guess as to which this one was.

These two
, her mind amended, as a second jaguar emerged from the undergrowth. This one was smaller and lighter, and a ragged line of scar tissue marred her muzzle, running to her ear and leaving a trail of pearl where one beautiful golden eye had been destroyed.