DH 05 Kiss Of The Night (9 page)

The burden of civilization was upon him, or more to the point, the burden of Wulf’s lineage was upon him.

The only real friend Chris had in his life was Nick Gautier, a Squire recruit he’d met online a couple of years ago. Too new to their world to understand Chris’s gilded status, Nick had treated him like a human being and the Cajun agreed that Chris’s life seriously sucked in spite of the benefits that came along with it.

Hel , the only reason he’d been able to convince Wulf to let him go to col ege, instead of hiring professors to come to the house and teach him, was the fact that here he might actual y meet an eligible ovary donor.

Wulf had been giddy at the prospect and interrogated him every night on whether or not he met a new woman.

More to the point, had he scored with her?

Sighing again, Chris entered the room and kept his gaze lowered so that he wouldn’t see the glares or sneers most of the students directed at him. If they didn’t hate him for being Dr. Mitchel ’s pet, they hated him for being an overprivileged geek. He was used to it.

He flopped down in a vacant chair in the back corner and dug out his notebook and text.

“Hi, Chris.”

He started at the friendly feminine voice.

Looking up, he saw Cassandra’s beaming smile.

Total y dumbstruck, it was a ful minute before he could respond to her. “Hi,” he answered back lamely.

He hated himself for being so damned stupid. Nick could probably have had her eating out of his hand.

She sat down next to him.

He broke out into a sweat. Clearing his throat, he did his best to ignore her and the light scent of roses that drifted from her over to him. She always smel ed incredible.

Cassandra opened her book to the assignment and watched Chris. He seemed even more nervous now than he had at the coffee shop.

She glanced down at his backpack, hoping to see another glimpse of the shield, but he’d concealed it completely.

Damn.

“So, Chris,” she said softly, leaning a little closer to him. “I was wondering if I might be able to study with you later.”

He blanched and looked like he was almost ready to bolt. “Study? With me?”

“Yeah. You said you knew this stuff real y wel and I’d like to make an A on the test. What do you think?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously—clearly a habit since he seemed to do it so frequently. “You sure you want
me
to study with
you
?”

“Yes.”

He smiled sheepishly, but refused to meet her gaze. “Sure, I guess that would be okay.” Cassandra sat back with a satisfied smile as Dr. Mitchel came in and commanded everyone to silence.

She’d spent hours on the Dark-Hunter.com Web site after her last class, going through every part of it. On the surface, it appeared to be some kind of role-playing group or book site.

But there were entire sections of it that were password protected. Secret loops and areas that she couldn’t access no matter how hard she tried. There were many things about it that reminded her of the Apol ite site.

No, this wasn’t a gaming group. She had stumbled upon the real Dark-Hunters. She knew it.

They were the last great mystery of the modern world. Living myths that no one knew about.

But she knew they were there. And she was going to find a way into their society and find some answers even if it kil ed her.

Sitting through that class while the professor droned on about Hrothgar and Shield was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. As soon as it ended, she packed up and waited for Chris.

As they neared the door, she saw the two men dressed in black who immediately flanked them while eyebal ing her.

Chris let out a disgusted sound.

Cassandra laughed in spite of herself. “Are they with you?”

“I real y wish I could say no.”

She patted his arm in sympathy. She jerked her chin to indicate down the hal where Kat was standing up and tucking away her book. “I got one myself.”

Chris smiled at that. “Thank God, I’m not the only one.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I told you I understand completely.” The relief on his face was tangible. “So when would you like to study?”

“How about now?”

“Okay, where?”

There was only one place Cassandra was dying to get into. She hoped it would hold more clues about the man she’d met last night. “Your place?”

His nervousness was back instantly, confirming her suspicions. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I just… it’s just… I, um, I just don’t think it’s a good idea, okay?” Stymied already. Cassandra forced herself to hide her irritation. She’d have to tread careful y if she was to get past his defenses. But then she understood that. She had her own secrets to hide.

“Okay, you pick the place.”

“The library?”

She bristled. “I can’t ever get comfy there. I’m always afraid of being told to hush. Want to come back to my apartment?”

He looked total y stunned by her offer. “Real y?”

“Sure. I mean, I don’t usual y bite or anything.”

He laughed. “Yeah, me either.” He took two steps off with her, then turned to the men trailing them. “We are just going to her place, okay? Why don’t you guys go get a doughnut or something?” They didn’t acknowledge him in the least.

Kat laughed.

Cassandra led the way to the students’ parking lot and then gave Chris directions to her apartment. “See you there?”

He nodded and made his way toward a red Hummer.

Cassandra dashed to her gray Mercedes, where Kat was waiting in the driver’s seat. They headed home, while Cassandra hoped Chris didn’t wait too long or, worse, change his mind.

Not until she had a chance to search his backpack, anyway.

It took her two hours of boring
Beowulf
study and a pot of coffee before Chris left her alone with his backpack while he went to the bathroom. Kat had long since retired to her bedroom, claiming the dead language and Chris’s enthusiasm for it was giving her a migraine.

As soon as Chris vanished, Cassandra went searching.

Luckily, it didn’t take long to find what she was looking for…

She found the day planner in his backpack where she had seen it earlier. The binder of it was hand-tooled leather with a strange emblem on the front: a double bow and arrow that was tilted up with the arrow pointing to the right.

Just like the one she had seen on Wulf’s shoulder in her dream…

She ran her hand over the brown leather, then opened it to find that everything was written in Runic. The language was similar to Old English, but she couldn’t read it.

Old Norse, perhaps?

“What are you doing?”

She jumped at Chris’s sharp question. It took a few seconds for her to think of anything to say that wouldn’t make him even more suspicious. “You’re one of those gamers, aren’t you?” His blue gaze narrowed on her and turned sharp. “What are you talking about?”

“I… um, I went to this site cal ed Dark-Hunter and found al these teasers about a book series and game.

Since I had seen your book earlier, I was wondering if you were one of the members who plays there.” She could tel he was searching his mind and her face to see what, if anything, he should say.

“Yeah, my friend Nick runs the site,” he said after a long pause. “We have a lot of interesting people who play there.”

“I saw that. Do you have one of those names like Hel ion or Rogue that you play under?” He came forward and took the day planner from her. “No, I just use ‘Chris.’ “

“Ah. So what goes on in the private areas?”

“Nothing,” he said a little too fast. “Just a bunch of us BSing each other.”

“Then why is it private?”

“It just is.” He grabbed the book from her hand and shoved it back into his backpack. “Look, I have to go now. Good luck on the test.”

Cassandra wanted to stop him and ask more questions, but it was painful y obvious he had no intention of letting her know anything else about them or him.

“Thanks, Chris. I appreciate the help.”

He nodded and made a hasty exit.

Alone in her kitchen, Cassandra sat in the chair, chewing her thumbnail as she debated how to proceed.

She thought about tailing Chris to his house, but that wouldn’t do much good. No doubt his bodyguards would catch her, even with Kat’s cockamamie driving.

Getting up, she went to the laptop in her room and booted it up.

Okay, the Dark-Hunter site was designed as if the Dark-Hunters were characters in a book. Most people would accept that, but what if she reviewed it again from the angle that nothing on the site was false?

She’d spent her life in hiding and one thing she had learned… the best place to hide was out in the open.

People had a tendency to not see what was right before them.

And even if they saw it, they came up with ways to explain it away. They would say it was a figment of then-imagination or youthful pranks.

No doubt the Dark-Hunters thought the same thing. After al , in this modern world where everyone knew about vampires and demons and thought them a Hol ywood myth, they wouldn’t even necessarily have to hide. Most people would write them off as eccentrics.

She watched the intro to the site, then switched to the profile pages of the individual Hunters who were listed.

There was one there for a character named Wulf Tryggvason whose Squire was named Chris Eriksson.

Supposedly, Wulf was a Viking warrior who had been cursed…

Cassandra copied Wulf’s name and then searched the Nil strom—an Old Norse legend-and-history search engine.

“Bingo,” she whispered as several entries popped up.

Born of a Christian mother from Gaul and a Norse father, Wulf Tryggvason had been a renowned adventurer and raider of the mid-eighth century whose death was unrecorded. In fact, it only said that he had vanished one day after he had won a battle against a Mercian warlord who had been trying to kil him.

Popular belief had it that one of the warlord’s sons had vengeful y slain him that night.

Cassandra heard her bedroom door open. Looking up, she saw Kat standing in the doorway.

“You busy?” Kat asked.

“I was just doing some more research.”

“Ah.” Kat moved forward to read over her shoulder. ” ‘Wulf Tryggvason. Pirate, risk-taker, and warrior, he fought his way across Europe, hiring himself out to both Christian and pagan alike. It was once written that his only loyalty was to his sword and to his brother Erik who traveled with him…’ Interesting. You think this might be the guy you saw at the Inferno?”

“Maybe. You ever heard of him?”

“Not at al . You want me to ask Jimmy? He’s al into Viking history.” Cassandra considered it for a second. Kat’s friend was in the Society of Creative Anachronism and lived to study Viking culture.

But it wasn’t Wulf’s past that interested her at the moment. It was his present, and what she wanted most was a modern-day address for him.

“It’s okay.”

“You sure?’

“Yeah.”

Kat nodded. “Fine then, I’l just head back to my room and finish my book. You want me to bring you something to munch on or drink?”

Cassandra smiled at the offer. “A soda would be great.”

Kat vanished only to return a few minutes later with a Sprite. Cassandra thanked her, then went back to work while Kat left her alone.

Cassandra sipped her drink leisurely as she surfed. About an hour later, she was so tired, she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.

Yawning, she checked the time. It was barely five-thirty. Even so, her eyelids were so heavy that she couldn’t stay awake no matter how hard she tried.

She shut down her computer, then headed for bed to take a short nap.

She fel asleep the instant her head touched the pil ow. Normal y, Cassandra didn’t dream much whenever she took an afternoon nap.

Today was completely different.

Today her dreams started almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

How strange…

But the oddest part of al was that her fantasy realm bore no resemblance to anything she’d ever dreamt before. Instead of her normal dreams of glamour or horror, this one was peaceful. Gentle. And it fil ed her with warm security.

She was dressed in a soft dark green gown like some medieval lady. Frowning, she ran her hand over the material, which was softer than chamois.

Alone inside a stone cottage where a warm fire blazed in a large hearth, she stood off to the side of an old wooden table. The winds howled outside a window that was covered by a wooden shutter that clattered noisily as it tried to keep the winter winds out.

She heard someone at the door behind her.

Cassandra turned around just in time to see Wulf shoulder it open. Her heart stopped as she caught sight of him dressed in a chain-mail vest of sorts. His massive arms were bare with his torso and mail covered by a leather vest that had Nordic designs burned into it. The designs matched the tattoo on his right shoulder and biceps.

His conical helm covered his head and had more mail attached to it that covered his face, virtual y obscuring it. But for those intense, heated eyes, she would never have known it was Wulf under there. He held a smal battle-axe in one hand, resting it over his shoulder. He looked primitive and wild. The kind of man who had once owned the world. One who was afraid of nothing.

His dark gaze swept the room, then stopped on her. She watched a slow, seductive smile break across the lower half of his face, showing off his fangs.

“Cassandra, my love,” he greeted, his voice warm and enchanting. “What are you doing here?”

“I have no idea,” she answered honestly. “I’m not even sure where
here
is.” He laughed at that, a deep, rumbling sound, then shut the door and bolted it. “You’re in my home,
villkat
. At least what was once my home long ago.”

She looked about the spartan place, which was furnished with a table, chairs, and one very large fur-covered bed. “Strange, I would have thought Wulf Tryggvason had a better place than this to cal his own.” He set the axe down on the table, then removed his helm and placed it over the axe.