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Authors: Miranda Jameson

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BOOK: JAVIER
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Had they picked her simply because, at a distance, she
could be made to look enough like Charlotte to lure him to follow?  It was
sinister; someone knew his history, someone had been able to obtain a picture
of his dead consort. That same someone had gone to a lot of trouble. Why? What
did they want?

The guestroom door opened and Javier found himself
staring as Cassia padded barefooted into the kitchen and poured herself another
glass of wine then topped his up and brought it over.  Setting it down on the
table between them she sat down, curling her long bare legs under her. The hair
that had been scraped back and tightly tied to fit under the wig had been
washed and lay damply in a black sheet over her shoulders to below her waist.
She had wrapped herself in a midnight blue satin robe the same colour as her
eyes and he was sure she had nothing on underneath. If it hadn’t been for the
cold challenge and defiance in her eyes he would have sworn she was trying a
little seduction in the hope of distracting him. Well, he was certainly
distracted. He took a quick swallow of wine to combat the sudden dryness in his
mouth and turned the laptop round to face her.

“It seems you are a person of interest
Cassia. Your name has flagged up on our system.”

Cassia kept up the outward show of casual
lack of concern but her heart was hammering. Her earlier guess had been
correct, she thought, as she saw the emblem of the crossed swords that headed
the page of script in the ancient language spoken by all Vampires and Empaths.
They even had a photo of her.

“You are a soldier on the Warrior’s Council.”
she said quietly, holding her wine with both hands so he wouldn’t see the
trembling.

“Almost correct.” Javier’s eyes were
narrowed as he examined her and she felt like an insect under a microscope. Of
course, she thought, remembering the blonde warrior’s respectful deference
earlier; those people would not have gone to so much trouble for a mere foot
soldier.

“I am a commander on the Warrior’s
Council, one of the six reporting directly to the head of the Council and our
Supreme Commander…”

“The Comte de LaSalle.” Cassia finished,
feeling the colour draining from her face.

Oh God, if she had known she was tangling
with the Warrior’s Council she would have found some way to wriggle out. Those
guys policed the Vampire world, they led their armies, protected their society.
The Comte de LaSalle was a name known in every Vampire household.  No wonder
Javier of Seville wasn’t the push over she had thought he would be; he wasn’t
some rich playboy.  He was a commander on the Council and everyone knew that you
didn’t get to that position unless you were an elite and highly experienced
warrior.

“What’s going to happen to me?” she asked.

“You and Flavia are going back with me to
our headquarters. Your lives may be in danger. You are going to help me get to
the bottom of all this. Rafe has already got our people watching the house.
Rafe Deverill is another commander on the Council by the way, this is his
place. I’m not interested in your common thievery Cassia, I just need to know
as much as possible about what happened.”

“My thievery is anything but common.”
Cassia shot back.

“You are priceless!” Javier spluttered
with laughter, “I’m not giving you a choice here. You have got mixed up in
something extremely odd. How did you know your way around that house?”

Cassia shuffled uncomfortably, “Five years
ago I sort of liberated a Goya from that house. It belongs, or used to belong,
to an Empath called Erebus.”

“You stole a Goya from them?” Javier
stared at her in astonishment, “What other art thefts are you responsible
for…no, on second thoughts, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know. Let’s just
stick with trying to find out why they wanted me. You can tell your story
tomorrow back on the Island. Now, you had better get some sleep.”

She was being dismissed. Well, things
could have gone worse. Cassia wondered how she had got on their watch list; she
was good, more than good and she was careful. No evidence had ever been
traceable back to her but she had been involved in the darker side of the art
world for a very long time. There were bound to be rumours, whispers.

She looked up and flushed; Javier was
observing her thoughtfully.

“You will have to question Flavia won’t
you?” Cassia asked abruptly,

“She was in that house for a long time,
she may have overheard things. Empaths and Humans never appreciate how very
acute our hearing is. She’s completely innocent in all this Javier. She’s never
been involved in anything I do; her work is completely legitimate. I want your
word that she will not be treated like a criminal.”

Javier pushed the laptop to one side and
leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees;

“You have my word Cassia. We’ll get her
checked over, make sure she hasn’t come to any harm. But you are right, she may
know more than she realizes. You are very protective of her aren’t you?”

Cassia leaned back so that she was further
away from him; she found it hard looking into those golden brown eyes. He was
so damned handsome and she had the sudden urge to run her hands through his
slightly long and untidy hair and mess it up even more. Blinking rapidly she
answered brusquely;

“I have always looked after Flavia. That’s
just the way it is.”

“And who looks after you Cass?”

Cassia stood up abruptly, fighting a sharp
pricking behind her eyes. He had called her Cass, only her father had ever
called her that. She needed to end this conversation now.

“Nobody looks after me Javier of Seville.
I don’t need looking after. Now, is that all? I’m tired and it sounds like we
have a busy day ahead of us.”

He held her eyes for a long moment then
smiled;

“Goodnight Cassia of the bloodline of
Mathrafal. Thank you again for helping me out back there. If it’s any
consolation to you, I shall have plenty of explaining to do as well. Commanders
on the Council don’t usually let themselves be caught by rank amateurs, in
fact, I don’t think it has ever happened before. I shall be lucky if I don’t
find myself busted down the ranks.”

Cassia couldn’t resist returning his smile
as she turned and headed back to the guestroom. Halfway there she stopped as
she remembered something;

“Javier, Flavia may be able to tell us
more but I am quite certain that there were not just Empaths in that house. On
at least two of my visits there they had Human visitors.”

Javier’s eyes sharpened;

“Humans? You saw them?”

“No, I smelled them. You know how they
smell different, it’s their blood. I smelled them, definitely Humans.”

As the door shut behind her Javier sat
lost in thought. Humans…Humans and Empaths together. That particular
partnership had always spelled trouble for his kind. Serious trouble. It would
be interesting to hear whether Rafe’s surveillance team reported anything
significant and he couldn’t wait to question Flavia.

He yawned as a wave of exhaustion washed
over him. Pulling out the gun from behind his back he stretched out on the
sofa, rested his gun on his stomach and shut his eyes. He had always known it
wouldn’t be Charlotte. She was dead; she had left him behind and gone into the
Infinite. Or had she? He had never let her go. Was her shade stuck somewhere,
waiting for release? If so, he was stuck too and had been for the last eight
years. Deliberately relaxing his body he let his thoughts drift away and waited
for Charlotte’s smiling face to come into his mind as she often did just before
he fell asleep. She stayed away, she wouldn’t come. With a deep sigh Javier
drifted off to sleep alone.

 

CHAPTER 5

“Why can’t you just give me the
coordinates so I can shift under my own steam?”

Cassia demanded belligerently the moment
Javier wound up his phone call. She glanced over to where the warrior Andreas
was finishing his cup of coffee in the kitchen. He was going to shift to the
Island with Flavia and Javier was going to take her. Javier raised his eyebrows
then looked down at himself with exaggerated surprise;

“Just as I thought, I’m a fully grown
adult so not born yesterday. Firstly, I’m not about to give you the coordinates
to our headquarters and secondly, I don’t trust you enough to believe you won’t
disappear the first chance you get. You are shifting with me, end of
discussion.”

“I would never abandon Flavia.” Cassia
said tightly as she fixed Javier with her most severe look.

“It’s true, she wouldn’t.” Flavia chimed
in cheerfully from where she sat by Andreas munching on toast and honey. Cassia
threw her an exasperated glare. Flavia had been brimming over with excitement
ever since Cassia had told her who Javier was and where they were heading. She
knew all the stories of their race and had sat on the edge of the bed with
shining eyes.

“You do know where we’re going don’t you?
It’s a large island with a massive castle that was built by LaSalle’s forebears
a thousand years ago. The warriors of our race have had their base there ever
since they became the military arm of our High Council. It’s legendary Cassia,
there are many stories about their deeds. Do you think we’ll meet LaSalle
himself? His father was Supreme Commander till he was killed in the great
conflict and do you know who replaced him?”

Cassia had muttered something vague as she
dressed but Flavia had carried on blithely;

“Alejandro of Seville…it all clicks into
place. That must be Javier’s father. He was succeeded by the present LaSalle
when he retired from the Council over a century ago. If it hadn’t been for the
way the warriors on that Council protected our people over the last nine
centuries we may have become subjugated to the Empaths; we shouldn’t forget
that Cassia…now that we’re all supposed to be friends and have this Treaty and
everything.”

Cassia came out of her reverie with a sigh
of resignation. She was used to being in control and found her current
situation filled her with agitation and anxiety. What kind of reception would
she get? Javier grasped her wrist firmly as Andreas disarmed the electronic
security net; obviously he thought she might do a flit the second the system
went down. Then he wound an arm tightly round her waist and drew her close into
him, laughing softly as she held herself rigid and tried to pull away;

“Excuse the forced intimacy Miss
Mathrafal. I assure you I wouldn’t hold you so close under any other
circumstances.”

Too right, thought Cassia, breathing in
the scent of his skin, he should be so lucky. Javier took a deep breath and
they were whirled into a vortex of dark energy as they shifted out.

The first thing she noticed as Javier
unclamped his arm from round her waist was warm air on her face and the scent
of pine and night flowering plants on the breeze. Cassia breathed in deeply as
she remembered that the Island was rumoured to be somewhere in the
Mediterranean. In front of them was the imposing entrance to a huge and elegant
French chateau.

“Welcome to L’ile de Loup Noir.” Javier
said as he bent towards a retina scanner. Yes, thought Cassia, as she noted the
discreet cameras, security here would be second to none. They probably had
access to technology she hadn’t even heard of and she was more knowledgeable
than most civilians.

Beside her Flavia almost squeaked with
excitement and Cassia found herself looking at her younger sister with
affectionate irritation.

“The Island of the Black Wolf! We’re
really here Cassia. Oh, I wish I could see it…”

Cassia bit back the words that sprung into
her head. Now was not the time to comment on Flavia’s blindness.

There was a heavy clunking sound as if
massive locks had disengaged then the stately double front doors swung silently
open and they were ushered indoors. Cassia looked round at the large ornate
marble floored hallway. In front of them a beautiful staircase swept
curvaceously upwards whilst numerous tall double doors hinted at the many
rooms. The air was filled with the scent of polished wood and an abundance of
flowers which were arranged informally in an antique vase. The item that drew her
like a magnet across the hall with a loud gasp, however, was the glorious
painting by Chagall that had been strategically hung on a wall so that anyone
descending the staircase would see it. Cassia’s hands flew to her mouth and she
forgot everything around her as she gazed at it. A completely unknown work and
done by the artist’s own hand without a shadow of doubt. My god, a similar and
less beautiful Chagall had sold for three million pounds recently.

She jumped as a hand touched her shoulder;
Javier was watching her with a quiet brooding intensity. How long had she been
standing there, lost in her own world? He must have spoken to her but she
hadn’t heard him;

“Cassia? They are waiting for us, coming?”

Well, that brought her down to earth with
a bump. Time to face the music. At least they seemed to be heading towards one
of the doors leading off this hallway…not a dungeon. She followed Javier into a
spacious wood panelled study lined with books down one side and tall windows
with views across the sea on the other. Miles away through the darkness she
could see a constellation of twinkling lights.

“That is the French mainland,” Javier
followed her eyes, “I’ll make some introductions.”

Flavia was already seated and there were
two other people in the room. One was the dark eyed black haired man who had
been right behind Javier as he had chased her in the Arctic Circle encampment
on the day the treaty was signed. The other man was sitting on the edge of a
large Louis Quinze desk and, as he stood she saw that he was even taller than
Javier or the other one, easily six foot six she thought. His eyes were the
colour of smoke and his long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He
looked like a pirate and exuded power and authority. Cassia drew herself up to
her full five feet eleven and lifted her chin seeing a flicker of amusement
touch the grey eyes.

“LaSalle, this is Flavia’s sister, Cassia
of the bloodline of Hugo Mathrafal…not a bit like Charlotte as you can see.
Cassia, this is Henri Phillippe, Comte de LaSalle, Supreme Commander of the
Warrior’s Council and this is my fellow commander Gabriel Bathory.”

Cassia turned to the black haired man and
felt a stab of alarm. There was someone who looked as if he could see into your
very soul. She fought a ridiculous urge to curtsey in the old way; she’d look
stupid doing that in her black skinny jeans and biker boots.

“Please sit Miss Mathrafal and call me
LaSalle, everyone does.” LaSalle had a deep voice and an attractive French
accent.

Cassia took the chair next to Flavia’s as
the men sat themselves in comfortable worn looking leather armchairs. She bet
each of them had a favourite chair. At least it made it seem less like an
interrogation. Flavia was sipping coffee and Cassia accepted the cup Javier
poured for her before he carried one back to his own chair.

It was Gabriel Bathory who started them
off as LaSalle lounged casually and watched her, his face expressionless.

“I have checked our records Miss
Mathrafal, it makes interesting reading. You are either extremely intelligent
and good at what you do or extremely lucky. I suspect it is the former.”

Cassia said nothing. She had heard stories
about this man. Word was his bloodline came from Hungarian nobility and that he
was a fearsome warrior, a killer. He was also rumoured to control a vast
intelligence network. Few of their people had ever seen him though he had
become better known recently after he had taken an Empath as his bonded life
consort. He was handsome in that dark, dangerous intense way some women found
wildly sexy. His accent was vaguely Eastern European and his voice low and
controlled.

“Please tell us exactly what transpired
from the beginning. If you cannot tell the truth I can arrange to have you
questioned in the presence of someone who can detect a lie in an instant.”

Javier glanced quickly at Gabriel. That
was a bit heavy handed, what was he playing at? Out of the corner of his eye he
saw LaSalle suddenly lean forward attentively and focused back on Cassia.

All the colour had drained from her face
and her eyes were wide and staring. Her hands gripped the arms of her chair so
tightly her knuckles showed white. She started to speak, stopped and cleared
her throat then started again;

“Do…do you mean an Empath? Am I to be
interrogated by an Empath?”

It was a fact well known by Vampires;
Empath interrogation techniques were ruthless, painful and extremely effective.
Cassia’s eyes sought Javier’s and held them. They were vulnerable and
frightened and he found himself wishing she was glaring at him with her usual
defiance.

“Please don’t let them, please don’t. I’ll
tell you anything you need to know. Javier please, my father, he never
recovered…”

She stopped and took a deep breath as
Flavia made a small sound of distress then reached out for her sister’s hand
and held it tightly.

“It’s alright Flavia, I’m going to tell
the truth. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Javier saw the supreme effort she made to
bring herself under control and felt a sudden overwhelming urge to protect her
with the same ferocious devotion she protected her younger sister. He threw a
black look at Gabriel and leaned forward, his tone gentle;

“Cassia…Cass, you are not going to be
interrogated by an Empath. I promise you. Just tell us what happened from the
beginning. Don’t hide anything, this is not about what you may or may not be up
to in art world. Do you need a drink?”

She held his gaze then shook her head
sharply though she didn’t let go of her sister and her other hand curled slowly
into a fist. He wished some colour would come back into her cheeks;

“I’m fine. Thanks. I had arranged to meet a middle-man
to pass on an item for sale,” Cassia began;

“You mean you were meeting your fence to offload a
stolen painting.” Gabriel said flatly scrutinizing her face. Cassia flashed him
a glare then nodded;

“Yes, basically. Look, are you going to send me off to
our High Council? Will I be charged?”

LaSalle looked up from where he lounged in his
armchair, “Depends whether you help us willingly or not. Continue please
mademoiselle.”

“Instead of my usual contact there was this man, an
Empath. He said he had a job for me, quick money as long as I asked no
questions. Well I wasn’t interested, I don’t do that sort of work anymore and I
certainly don’t work for Empaths. Humans yes, never Empaths.  He was very
insistent, said he would report my activities in the art world. I wished him
good luck, told him he would have to offer evidence and there was none. I told
him to find someone else. I left, thinking that was the end of the matter.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No, it certainly wasn’t. Two nights later I was
grabbed on a street up near Hampstead by two Empaths. I tried to fight, to
shift out but they jabbed something into my neck and the next thing I knew I
woke up tied to a chair in a very luxurious room.” Here Cassia’s voice trembled
as she looked up at Javier, the truth and distress apparent in her eyes.

“Flavia was tied to the chair opposite me. She was
just coming round and she was terrified,” Cassia’s breath hitched and Javier
saw her press her lips together as she tried to calm herself; she cleared her
throat and continued;

“I calmed her, tried to reassure her. I tried
everything to get untied, I so wanted to hold her close, but I couldn’t, they’d
done a really good job of trussing me up. We were left alone for at least a
couple of hours. I sang to her, can you believe that? It was the only thing I
could think of that would keep her calm. Talk about surreal, the two of us,
tied to chairs and me singing her arias.”

Cassia gave a small hollow laugh as Flavia squeezed
her hand and smiled;

“It’s true. That’s what happened. Cassia’s got a voice
like an angel. They grabbed me as I finished a booking at a private party.”

“Flavia is a storyteller, a singer of our old songs.
She carries on the oral tradition of our race; knows all our stories and
legends. She gets a lot of bookings.” Cassia explained.

“Why didn’t you just shift out?” LaSalle asked

“They had that electronic restraint round Flavia’s
neck; frankly I was surprised that they had access to that kind of technology.
She couldn’t shift and I wasn’t about to leave her alone.”

She was courageous, thought Javier, he already knew
that. He found himself wondering what her voice sounded like; an angel Flavia
had said, her speaking voice was melodic and that faint Welsh lilt to her
accent was attractive. He checked himself; where on earth had that thought come
from?

“Eventually, the Empath I had seen before came in with
another one.”

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