Beloved Vampire (42 page)

Read Beloved Vampire Online

Authors: Joey W. Hill

BOOK: Beloved Vampire
13.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Because it was weak, and unfair to her. He knew that. Sighing, he looked down the steep wall to the clumps of shrubs below. The more he reached out to her, the more likely it was he wouldn’t let her go, that he would be no better than Raithe in that regard.

What would she say, if he had her on the phone? Would she tell him what she’d been doing or be terse and quiet, since the last time she’d seen him he’d thrown her out of his room, aching and unsatisfied? Of course, she’d told Amara she missed him.

He should get her a gift while he was here. He didn’t know if she liked jewelry, but he knew she appreciated beauty. No, something that appealed to her interests. Perhaps a book on the archaeology of this region. That would be good.

“Why do you defend her?”

There were humans and vampires moving within and without the castle, so he’d paid only peripheral attention to them. Obviously, he needed to sharpen his senses, if he’d let this son of a sway-backed camel creep up on him. Turning to face Trenton, he saw four of his companions were with him, hostility emanating from them. A desire for violence.

All Mason’s intentions to remain even-tempered shattered as Trenton’s green eyes narrowed, for in that moment Mason remembered why he seemed familiar. He’d seen him in Jessica’s nightmares.

Raithe had given her to Trenton when she was bloody with lash marks, so dehydrated and in pain she kept fainting. While the vampire fucked her, he’d slapped her awake, again and again, until he was done, until the blood from her nose had dripped on her breasts, painted her with crimson lines where he rutted upon her.

The images crowded in quickly now, making it clear that Trenton had been one of Raithe’s most devoted sycophants. He’d wagered on the dogs as Jessica fought them for food. Helped string her arms up in chains for the stable rape, stayed to watch.

After hours of aping civility in that damned hot chamber, everything was washed in red. Mason’s fangs lengthened in his mouth, preparing for this kill. He would tear flesh, immerse himself in the cleansing numbness of savagery on Jessica’s behalf. Did Trenton see something in his face? His cronies certainly did, because they were backing up.

You kill him here and now, and Jessica will never be safe. Never exonerated. She will be a fugitive forever.

There was no doubt this time that the voice that exploded in his head was Lyssa’s. He knew of no other vampire who could speak in another vampire’s mind with the sharpness of cut glass, slashing through brain matter like butter. He almost yelped.

You’re nine hundred, not a fledgling like these whelps. Control your reaction. Goddess, you need a sitter.

It was the command mixed with the exasperation that recalled him, that made him retract the fangs. Whatever happened here, Mason knew Trenton would disappear in the next month or so, never to be seen again. He’d make sure of it. While a dead vampire had to be investigated, little was done if one disappeared, for vampires were notorious for going to ground for long periods of time. Trenton was far too low on the food chain to merit a search party.

Mason didn’t miss the irony of that. Once, he’d been low on that food chain himself. He, of all vampires, knew how easy it was to become the victim among vampires. But he had no problem using that to his advantage now. That, too, was the nature of a vampire. Yesterday’s weakness was today’s strength. He’d learned patience the hard way, taking time to strike at the opportune moment.

He forced his lips to curve, showing the now retracted fangs, knowing the moonlight was catching the red glint in his eyes, though his voice came out remarkably mild. “I defend her because it’s the right thing to do. Humans cannot be underestimated.”

“They are weak, puny—”

“Insignificant against our all-powerful selves. Blah, blah, blah.” Mason shrugged. “Yet our human servants help us manage our bloodlust and blend into a world overrun by mortals. Abusing that relationship to the extent Raithe did is unwise. Use your mind to do your thinking, Trenton, not your hot blood. And remember you were once human yourself.”

It was a deliberate insult to point to a made vampire’s humbler origins. Trenton whitened with fury. Looking at this pathetic gathering of Raithe’s offspring, Mason knew they hadn’t had the guidance and mentoring they should have. Raithe had likely turned them, taken their new, wildly fluctuating bloodlust and created sadistic monsters. While Mason might have felt pity, they’d had a choice. Unlike a human being taken as a servant, vampire law said a human had to give his or her consent to be turned, and only
after
the Council approved the action.

The boy was stupider than most made vampires. He snarled and lunged forward. Mason couldn’t be happier as he leaped to meet him.

The others closed in, but he’d already caught Trenton by the throat and slammed him against a stone turret, so hard the rock crumbled beneath the impact. The others came to a stumbling halt and spun around, realizing he’d passed them by and now had their ringleader pinned against stone twenty feet behind them.

“Stay back,” he hissed. “In the time it takes you to think about crossing the ground between us, I will have killed every last one of you.”

“My lord Raithe deserved better,” Trenton rasped over Mason’s hold, his eyes burning.

“Your lord Raithe deserved far worse, and the lot of you with him. You’ve lost your meal ticket. An older vampire has already taken over his properties and thrown you out.” Mason bared his fangs as Trenton scowled darkly. “That’s the true reason most of you are here, hoping to get scraps from another table. Figuring I’ll buy you off to support my position. You severely overestimate your own value, and underestimate the Council’s wisdom. Go ingratiate yourself with another rich fool.”

But those words were directed to the angry vampires behind him. Now Mason brought his face close enough to Trenton’s that he could see death in his eyes, the gleam on Mason’s fangs. As the young vampire hissed, frightened and trying to wriggle free, Mason held him effortlessly, dropping his tone so only the boy could hear him. “For you, Trenton, that’s a wasted effort. Enjoy the short life you have left.”

He dropped him then. Trenton thudded to the stone, but rolled and scrambled past him, back into the ranks of his friends. As Mason turned, he wished they’d rush him so he’d have a reason to kill. But they didn’t. There were a few mutters and grumbles, some foul glances, but then he was alone again beside the parapet. And still wishing he had the courage to call Jessica on the phone, like some idiot teenager.

“Ah, damn it.” He retrieved the phone, furrowed his brow, then figured out how to call back the last number.

“How did it go?”

He bit off a sigh. “I hate cell phones.”

Lyssa’s voice was amused. “You didn’t mean to call me?”

“No. I meant to call last number received, not dialed.”

“Well, since you’re here . . . ?” She paused.

“Thank you,” he said, grudgingly. “Some of Raithe’s young whelps followed me out to the castle walk. I didn’t throw them off. Ah, bollocks. I should have thought of that. It wouldn’t have killed them, but it would have been satisfyingly painful.”

“And as I said, you need a babysitter more than Kane does.”

“You allow a babysitter for your child?” He was alarmed at the thought. A vampire infant, one young enough to be passed off as someone else’s, was a tempting target to infertile vampires who wanted the status a vampire child brought to them.

“Of course not. Remind me to hurt you when I see you, for thinking I’m that irresponsible. Either Jacob or I am with him at all times, but Danny and Dev have offered to give us a night out. It would be nice to go hunting, and enjoy other primal pursuits.” The warmth to her tone told him she was looking toward Jacob. The yearning in his gut twisted further.

“All right. See you in a few days, where I can thank you even more properly. I need to call . . . Amara.” He clicked off before Lyssa could call him a liar. Holding the phone up to the dim moonlight, he figured out how to redial his own number.

“My lord?” When he swore and turned, he found he’d made the Council attendant pale for the second time this evening. “The . . .

the Council is ready to give their decision.”

“Fine. I’ll be down in a few minutes. Aren’t you Uthe’s servant?”

“I am one of his assistants, but I belong to the castle, my lord. Part of the second-marked staff that serves the Council. My name is Gretchen.”

“Are you here of your free will?” When she nodded, he scowled at her. “Then learn how to mask your reaction to vampire temper.

Most of us are quite irritable. Your jumpiness makes you look like prey, and vampires feel much less cranky if we’ve fed.”

Since she went three shades whiter, his well-meaning advice obviously wasn’t perceived that way. Then he heard a voice in his hand.

“Hello?”

He brought the receiver up to his ear, realizing he must have hit the dial number after all. “Jessica?”

“My lord, it sounds like you’re frightening someone half to death.”

“Why are you answering the phone?”

“Amara said it would be you. That you were calling back to talk to me.”

He shook his head, waved Gretchen away, holding up a couple fingers to indicate he would be down in a few minutes. He waited until she departed to speak. “I wanted to check on you. I know I left rather abruptly.”

“You did. Amara said you’re meeting the Council.”

The underlying tension in her voice was easy to read. “I am. But whatever the outcome, Jessica, you will be safe. I promise you that.”

She paused a long moment. “None of us is safe, my lord.”

There was a sadness to her tone now. Daylight would be waning there, and twilight was often when she felt most vulnerable, too close to her past, as if that veil between day and night held the power to call her back to Raithe’s world.

“You
are
safe,” he repeated. “I won’t accept anything less.”

“As Farida was safe?” When his mind froze, she continued, her tone thoughtful. “I’m not trying to be cruel. It’s like you just said to that girl, heavy-handed though it was. You were trying to teach her what the reality of life is. We can rely on each other, we can rely on ourselves, but a certain portion of Fate is out of our hands. You reminded me of it, when you rescued me. The best thing we can do is cherish every moment of joy and safety we have and not be afraid to live our lives, no matter how long or short that is.”

Easing a hip on the wall, he looked out over the lights of the distant city. He missed the sea, the rain forest. The smell of Jessica’s hair and skin. He wanted to make her smile. “Heavy-handed, hmm? Maybe I should show you how heavy-handed I can be.”

“You have done so in the past, my lord.” He was pleased her tone changed, became prim. “You spank like a girl.”

He laughed then; he couldn’t help it. Allah, he missed her. “You say that only because I’m not close enough to prove you wrong.”

Her voice lowered, but he heard the tremor in her words, words that drove away all humor and left him feeling far too lonely in the foggy night air. “Farida was lucky to have you for the short time she did. A lifetime wouldn’t have been enough. When I leave, I will think well of you, my lord. That’s something I never thought I’d say about a vampire.”

“Jessica.” He stood, but she’d already hung up. He wished he had Lyssa’s range, enhanced by her Fey abilities, because he’d have sent thoughts to Jessica that would warm all parts of her, not merely the lovely curve of her bottom. Drive that melancholy away, convince her . . . of what? How could he send her the feelings that her words had stirred, when he didn’t know what they were himself?
When I leave
. . .

“Get on with it,” he muttered, pocketing the phone. “Nine hundred years old and gone stupid over a child. Go help her. Let her live her life.”

22

S
TUDYING herself in the mirror provided in Mason’s private plane, Jessica pushed down anxiety. She and Amara had worked together with the cook, who was an expert seamstress, to alter the dress, which had fit Amara’s taller, more voluptuous frame, and she had to admit the results were impressive. But she wasn’t used to seeing her self like this. Hell, even after two months, she was still surprised to see a healthy young woman looking back at her.

It had been a long time since she’d made herself beautiful for someone she wanted to see her that way, rather than dressing at the command of a vampire who wanted her paraded like a show dog. Of course, beyond the decision to dress up, she didn’t even have a strategy. Her nebulous intentions would likely disperse like frightened birds when confronted with the reality of him. Then he’d withdraw from her again. She didn’t know if that relieved her or made her want to scream.

Straightening, she laid a hand flat over her abdomen, stilling the butterflies that seemed to have razor blades for wings. Meeting her own flashing eyes, she noted the lift of her chin, the stubborn tightening of it. “You will
not
see a damsel in distress tonight, my lord.”

They’d used the off-road vehicles to get to Mason’s private airstrip, taking his plane to the nearby city where the club was located.

Mason had called Amara two days before and let her know he was wrapping up the details in Berlin. Though he was running later than expected, he’d gallantly refused to have them reschedule the club visit. He’d told Amara he’d charter a plane to the city’s airport and meet them there tonight.

He hadn’t relayed the Council’s decision to Amara, or asked to speak to Jessica again, not since their one and only intriguing conversation. Which meant Mason would deliver the decision in person, and he wanted Jessica to hear it first.

She wasn’t overly eager to hear the decision. From the beginning, the Council had been little more than a distant concept to her.

What mattered was he’d promised she’d be safe, and she wanted to believe him. Whatever the decision was, she’d manage it. But she wanted tonight just for this.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked her reflection, knowing her color was a little too high, her pupils too large. If nothing else, her nervousness about the tattoo she’d chosen, the way she’d dressed tonight, and thinking about how Mason would react, had helped take her mind off the kind of club they were visiting.

Other books

High Country : A Novel by Wyman, Willard
Portrait in Crime by Carolyn Keene
Parallel Stories: A Novel by Péter Nádas, Imre Goldstein