Knight Predator (26 page)

Bronwyn and I ran through the open front door into his deserted house and looked at the unused furniture and dust circling the air. He took me into the quiet kitchen, full of unused appliances and opened what should have been the refrigerator door. It was actually the door that opened onto the landing at the top of the stairs that led to his basement hideaway.

“Whoa,” Bronwyn said, taking my hand as we found ourselves in a dimly lit foyer at the bottom of the stairs.

“Cool, huh?” I said.

Sembur strode across the foyer toward a set of stairs leading to another lower level. “Guest room is first door on the right downstairs.

Library is on this level at the end of the hallway before you. Come to us there once you have rested.”

I nodded. “All right.” I paused, studying his handsome, impassive features. “Thank you, Sembur.”

His gave me a broad grin, revealing his sharp, white fangs. “You’re welcome, fledgling.”

“Isn’t Sembur going to ground as well?” Bronwyn asked as she watched him walk way.

“No,” I said. “He doesn’t need to. He stopped having to go to sleep at dawn about nine hundred years ago, so he said. Unfortunately he hasn’t met anyone the same age as him to ask.”

I felt my limbs grow heavy thanks to the brilliant dawn that burned through the above ground levels. Bronwyn took my hand, and we went downstairs, barely making it to the bed before sleep claimed us.

We woke in each other’s arms the next evening, both of us hungry, but I didn’t want to take us out to hunt. We had to talk to Sembur first.

Bronwyn looked more focused than she had the previous evening, and her eyes were recapturing their old sparkle as she gazed at me. I stole a kiss from her, and then led her up darkened stairs and hallway toward the library. I knocked on the closed doors and then opened them.

Sembur and Kilkenny were waiting for us, and both smiled when they saw us.

“There, this is much better than that nasty crypt, isn’t it?” Sembur asked.

“It certainly is,” I replied.

Bronwyn and I sat close on an expensive, brown leather lounge, fingers tangled together. Sembur and Kilkenny sat opposite us, on the twin of our sofa, equally close. Bronwyn could not take her eyes off Kilkenny. I had told her the woman was beautiful, but Bronwyn clearly had not been prepared for the shock of seeing a living, supposedly dead vampire as utterly stunning as Sembur’s lover. The fact that both Sembur and Kilkenny looked like statues was almost a side issue. Their eyes burned so fiercely that they almost glowed, and the white skin was arresting. They were specimens of physically perfect human beauty, combined with a mysterious, supernatural quality that made them magnetic, completely irresistible.

Bronwyn stiffened in shock when she saw the almost catatonic Allenby, seated in a large leather chair opposite us. A faint scar marred the bridge of his nose where skin and bone had shattered. His eyes had changed, and I didn’t know if it was for the better. They had always been dark and vicious, with a ratty gleam of intelligence that had set my teeth on edge, but now they were distant, almost unfocused, gazing into eternity with an unfathomable, hollow stare. It was as though all the self-awareness had disappeared in a spray of blood.

Kilkenny had healed him, but it seemed something inside him had been irreversibly damaged.

Sembur saw my attention was focused on Allenby. He signaled me and shook his head. I knew that he would not tell us what had happened to the ex-biker.

“Is Allenby going to be all right?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

I nodded and turned to Bronwyn. “I know I have to try and explain all of this to you.”

She nodded. “That’s an understatement. But since I know how elliptical you can all be, I want to ask the questions. Maybe someone will tell me the truth—all of it.”

I had to grin. Kilkenny and Sembur were very old, and they would tell us youngsters what they wanted when they wanted to. “Be my guest.”

“Crowley told me Kilkenny was dead.” She looked apologetically at the red head. “No offense, but how come you’re still alive? What really happened?”

Kilkenny smiled. “I rather like being alive.”

Sembur smiled. “I am familiar with what Crowley shared with you.”

He and his lover exchanged a quick glance.

Kilkenny nodded. “I was captured by Aristotle, and kept drained almost to the point of death by him for a century. Then your friend Crowley came along. We agreed to hate one another for appearance sake, and then Sembur came to my rescue. We burned the corpse of one of his victims.” Her voice was as beautiful as her face—deep, melodic, and somehow hypnotic.

Sembur squeezed her hand. “I had searched for Kilkenny for the entire century. I could not find her. My young apprentice, Crowley, found her, and told me she was alive, but would not tell me where she was. That information came at a price. I could rescue Kilkenny, but only if I agreed to kill Crowley. After all the trouble I had taken to bring her over to our side, I was not about to let that happen. We fought long and hard; I did agree, eventually, to the plan of placing the guilt of the supposed murder of Kilkenny on Crowley’s shoulders, so Aristotle would hunt her and kill her.”

“But then I came along.” Bronwyn’s voice was a whisper.

Kilkenny nodded and smiled. “Then you came along. We watched you both and stepped in when the time was right.”

“It was you who warned Crowley at the fountain. Sembur, why couldn’t you find Kilkenny by yourself?”

“Yes.” Kilkenny smiled, ignoring Bronwyn’s question.

I could see Bronwyn heave a deep, mental sigh, knowing the question would be answered when they felt like it.

I furrowed my brow and stared at Bronwyn. “How did you know what happened at the fountain?”

Bronwyn gave me that exasperated, affectionate look of hers. “I keep telling you, I’m not stupid. It didn’t take a degree in rocket science to figure out that something was up. I just didn’t know what it was.”

I kissed her. “I’m sorry for everything. I never meant for you to get hurt by all this.”

“Crowley.” She sighed. “You kept warning me off, you still keep warning me off, but you still don’t get it. I love you. I always have and I always will. The fact that I’m a vampire now just makes you all the more attractive because I get to spend the rest of eternity with you and never grow old. I’ll never be on my deathbed, dying of old age while you bring a young lover to meet me. I’m the jealous type and would never have taken kindly to that.”

I was once more amazed by her love for me, and how lucky I was that she was so persistent. I loved her all the more for it. “I love you too, and I know you’re a very smart girl. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the warning, but I just couldn’t tell you about it. Sembur, Kilkenny, and I have more you need to know. Ask your next question.”

Bronwyn smiled and nodded. Then she gave me an odd look, almost as though something was on the tip of her tongue, but she could not quite say it yet. She shook her head in frustration and turned to Sembur. “Why did you make Crowley? If you loved Kilkenny as much then as you clearly do now, how could you do that?”

Sembur was silent for a moment. Kilkenny gave his hand a small squeeze, and he looked at her, clearly deciding what to say.

“I stopped a man from beating his wife,” he said in a soft, almost distant voice. “I saw a creature that was just like me. When I made Crowley, she was dying.”

I closed my eyes in pain at the sudden memory of my human life and my death.

Bronwyn’s eyebrows shot skyward, and she looked at me, horrified. “David beat you? Who turned that fucking creep into a vampire?”

Sembur smiled ruefully. “Don’t look at me. I certainly didn’t do it. I think it was Aristotle, because he knew about David’s small ability.”

I gave a sad smile, lost in memory of an ugly time. My marriage had been one of the most stupid mistakes I had made. Nobody had known what would happen to me, and I had been too afraid to tell anybody but Rose. “He beat me, but that wasn’t what killed me. I was dying from a loss of blood.”

A piece of the puzzle slipped into place behind the green eyes.

She was unconsciously asking the questions they wanted her to ask.

“Sembur, what do you mean, ‘just like me’? Crowley, what were you dying of?”

I met and held her gaze, and her fingers caressed the back of my hand, distress apparent in the almost jerky movement. “I used to like to sing. David was jealous and claimed I did it to attract other men because he wasn’t good enough. So one night he tried to strangle me, and then stabbed me in the throat. I don’t know what happened because I wasn’t conscious at the time. I found out later my vocal cords were gone by the time he finished with me. The blood of the vampire heals torn flesh, but it cannot replace what is missing in one who is about to be made.”

Bronwyn stared at me, stunned. “You’re mute?”

I nodded, and this time did not bother to move my lips when I spoke to her. “Yes. As is Sembur, but his condition springs from being born without vocal cords. You already know that on some level.

Didn’t you ever wonder how you were able to hear me talk to you while I was in the lion’s den in the zoo? The glass is very thick to stop the cats from playing with the people. Humans can only hear certain frequencies and you didn’t hear me shout at any of them. I talked to the wolves, but they sure as hell don’t understand English, so I had to have done it some way other than using sounds.” Sembur had taught me that it was easier to project thoughts if I moved my lips to frame words. Moving my lips when pretending to speak was something I’d never forgotten to do. Ever.

Judging by the utterly gobsmacked look on Bronwyn’s face, Sembur had taught me well.

She turned to me, her gaze inward. “How is it that I can hear you?

Can you read my mind?”

“Sembur’s blood. No I can’t.”

Sembur smiled, and Kilkenny cleared her throat.

“David was made because he had a dampening effect on my ability to reach Sembur,” she said. “It took almost ninety years for Sembur’s fledgling—Crowley—to stumble on my whereabouts. Aristotle hated David with a passion, but that ability was why David was allowed to live.” Sembur and Kilkenny nodded to one another, squeezing each other’s hand. “That brings us to the matter of the gift you wanted us to give you.”

I nodded.

Bronwyn’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, ancient blood?

What gift do you have to give?”

I smiled at her, willing her to understand. “Blood, Bronwyn. It’s the gift of ancient blood.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I have the ability to speak to other people with my mind because of Sembur’s blood. It’s the gift it carries. I made a bargain with Sembur when we decided to rescue Kilkenny—I agreed to wait to see if he was right about eternity, and not intentionally confront Aristotle, if he would give me the gift of his blood when I asked for it. He asked me to have faith in the future and my eternal life, and I never really did until you and I came together.” I smiled at her confusion. I couldn’t tell her more because it was too difficult to explain. I had to show her.

“If you want that gift, tell us. I ask only that you trust me one more time. Take your time and think it through.”

I could see Bronwyn had reached her capacity for one evening.

She nodded and arose, but not before kissing me. She wandered out of the room, seemingly headed nowhere, to think and put all the pieces together, to complete the puzzle.

I curled up on the sofa, deep in thought. I was dimly aware that Sembur and Kilkenny arose and went to Allenby. Sembur took one hand, while Kilkenny took the other. They tugged a sluggish him to his feet. He looked as though he didn’t want to control his body anymore. Kilkenny led him from the room. He moved robotically, on autopilot, the quality of his now almost horrified gaze not changing.

I felt pity for him; he had not been prepared for Kilkenny’s blood, and I wondered why they had not asked me to heal him as well, since my blood would not have had the same effect on him. Sembur and Kilkenny moved in ways I often could not fathom.

I watched the empty doorway, listening to the crackling fire, feeling its warmth. I thought about what I’d just offered to Bronwyn. Could we do it? Would we survive Sembur’s gift? Would we still love one another?

I mentally slapped myself upside the head at that thought.

Bronwyn had become one of us and still loved me as much as I loved her. Even more amazing, she had continued to love me through what had to have been the worst vampire birth in all history. She had almost been killed for real before she had discovered the true pleasures of the night.

I sat there for the entire night, thinking about my long life. I had reached the end of what should have been my mortal years, and had spent the majority of my adult life as a vampire. I had tasted freedom and independence and found that I’d loved them both. It was wonderful to be able to make one’s way through the world and not be bound by human standards of behavior and morality. I had gotten myself into trouble and back out again. Yet I had been drifting, searching for an end to the first gift Sembur had given me. Even though I had known that theoretically my vampire’s blood should have given me eternal life, realistically I knew my life would come to an end at Aristotle’s hands, if I so chose. I unconsciously had been attracted to the idea that I would have the normal span of a human life, but not be subject to slow death by aging. Bronwyn had changed all that for me.

She embraced life and she had taken me right along with it.

I loved her for it.

I loved her compassion, her patience, and her fiery spirit. She was a young girl who had given her angel more pleasure and unconditional love than anyone else ever had. What had she gotten in return? She had been almost killed by vampires I couldn’t stand because of my selfish stupidity. I knew I had to give her something back. Even though she had come over to our side willingly—the flames in her eyes told me that—she had sacrificed some fundamental gifts humanity enjoyed.

She needed to know what could replace them. She deserved to know the gifts that vampires grew through age to enjoy.