Midnight's Jewel (Siren Publishing Classic) (11 page)

“Aradia?” The man’s gruff voice filled with shock. He left his mouth a little agape. Fang points showed below his lips.

“You’re the second person tonight to call me that. Who’s Aradia?” Sabrina asked. She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and wrapped the elastic ring twice around the mass.

“My apology, miss. I can see now that I was mistaken. If you will excuse me, Brandon and I will wait for you in the living room.” He gave a slight bow and left.

Sabrina stared at the closed door for a few minutes. Questions whirled in her mind. Who was Aradia? Why had two men she had never meet before in her life made the same mistake? She wished Eleanor were here. Someone needed to explain this to her. She had not asked for this, any of this. Why was she being dragged into other people’s problems? Frustration rose to the surface. She could feel her forehead scowl into ridges. Anger mingled with the frustration. Dark rainbows danced on the mirror, making it seem like there were twice as many as she knew there to be.

That damn necklace. The first time in her life she had taken it off, something bad had happened. It had looked like such an ordinary piece of smoky quartz in the shower. Wait. Black smoky quartz? Then it struck her. Smoky quartz had a number of metaphysical properties. It not only focused energy and grounded the wearer in the here-and-now, but it had the power to shield negative energy. Lucifer would definitely fall in that category. Peace, balance, and harmony were enhanced by helping to subdue stubborn willfulness. Sabrina had sold a lot of it to parents needing to help small children with nightmares. Lucifer was one of those, too.

Her entire life she had worn the wretched thing not knowing she was being controlled. She thought back to the realization of an unseen shackle being broken yesterday. Her determination to make her own choices had freed her from what hold was left. After that, the clasp formed. She could take it off, remove the magical chains she had not known bound her, prevented her from being her own person. There was, however, a price. She did not know enough to defend herself against such opponents. Anger lashed out in a hot wave. The mirror in front of her looked like someone had punched it. A deep depression in the center was surrounded by a series of spider webs. Small fragments littered the top of the dresser.

A timid knock stopped whatever would have happened next. Whoever it was could not have been either of the vampires that were just in her room. The door cracked open to admit the head of Farrell, the nervous used car salesman.

“Everything all right in here?” He noticed the mirror and frowned. “Um, I brought you some stuff to pass the time. You want I should come back later?”

“No, come in, please. I was having a moment. I’m fine now,” she said, doing her best to let go of the fury.

He opened the door wide with his foot. His arms were laden with boxes and bags. It looked like he had been all over town gathering things on her behalf. Clothing and jewelry store logos decorated some of the packaging. Others were more generic. A box of magazines was the last thing he put down. Looking at the ones on top showed he had emptied a newsstand to get all the latest editions.

“What is all this?” She was bewildered.

“The boss said to get you some stuff to help entertain you. He said think modern and female. Does this not work for you? I can go get something different?” He shoved both hands into his polyester green pockets. A nervous habit, she was sure. His eyes held a thinly veiled fear that he had not pleased her and might be punished.

In an effort to put the frightened man at ease, she plastered on her best smile. “Thank you. Farrell, isn’t it? This is excessively generous. I’m sure to find everything I need in here.”

The relief he felt was visible. His shoulder relaxed, and he stopped holding his breath. A goofy grin took the place of the thin lips pressed so tightly they were as white as the rest of him.

“Thanks! I’m glad you like it,” Farrell said cheerfully. He hitched his thumb toward the door. “You ready to go meet Hadrian? You must be some kind of special for Hadrian to show up.”

“I will take that as a compliment, Farrell. I didn’t know who that was. He came in here, apologized for busting in, and went to wait in the living room. Thank you for warning me,” she said.

“An audience and an apology! Maybe I should be more afraid of you!” The little man looked positively astounded at her confession.

She laughed hard and loud. “Oh, Farrell. I don’t think so. I’m just me, but I think you’re safe.”

“Uh-huh, okay,” he agreed reluctantly. “Let’s go. Brandon doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and Hadrian hates it more.”

In the living room, Scarlett was bustling about with trays and china mugs. On her way back to the kitchen, she stopped in front of Sabrina and stared. It took a few seconds for Sabrina to remember.

“Oh! I’ll have some juice and toast, please. Thank…” Scarlett took off for the kitchen before Sabrina could finish her sentence.

“Don’t worry. She’s always like that,” Farrell added.

“Does she hate it here?”

“I don’t know if ‘hate’ is the right word. Let’s just say, it’s not her first choice.” He did not bother to elaborate further.

“Sabrina, honey, we’re waiting,” Brandon called. He tone was conciliatory. Whether it was simply affectionate or if he was attempting to overcome some distrust on her part, she decided to proceed with caution.

Farrell made for the front door as soon as it was within sight. Sabrina was left standing alone. Hadrian was seated in Brandon’s overstuffed chair from last night. Brandon was in its mate at the opposite end of the coffee table. The only places left put her between the two, regardless of her choice.

Scarlett passed by her and sat her tray in the middle of the long coffee table. It certainly seemed to be the most logical place, and Sabrina accepted it as her seat. She began nibbling on toast, watching the two men.

Brandon had changed into jeans and an aqua, long-sleeved button-down. He was casual enough, in comparison to Hadrian, but it made Sabrina feel underdressed. No one spoke. Finally Sabrina took it upon herself to start.

“Well, if you’re not going to say something, I will. Hello, Hadrian. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sabrina Rivers.” She did her best to sound cordial and put out a hand after dusting off the toast crumbs.

In the better lighting of the living room, she could see the man was in his early sixties. Of course, there was no way for her to know how old he really was. This face only represented his human years. He took her extended hand slowly, held it for a moment more than was polite, and allowed her to slip it away from him. He sat staring at her.

“Aunt Eleanor seems to know you. She asked for you by name when she was here. How long have to two known each other?” Sabrina’s party manners were a little rusty, but she made the effort to engage in small talk with this stranger.

“Is Eleanor your mother’s sister or your father’s?”

“My, you do get right to the point. My mother’s.” Sabrina felt at a disadvantage. She sat back with her juice and crossed her legs, hoping to appear casually sociable.

“Do you know her name?”

“No. Eleanor doesn’t like to talk about her. I don’t know my father’s name, either. I know that seems strange, but she only ever made reference to her as ‘my sister’ or ‘your mother’. He was never referred to at all, if she could help it. I don’t know what she looked like. She died right after I was born,” Sabrina said, looking down at her hands. This turn in the conversation brought her mood down.

“Did Eleanor raise you?” Hadrian’s voice remained calm and even. He sipped his mug of blood. Brandon took it in turns, watching first Hadrian and then Sabrina. It made her edgy.

“Yes. I’ve lived in the Plott Balsam Mountains of North Carolina my whole life. We have a metaphysical supply shop in Sylva,” she replied.

“Brandon tells me you’ve never taken your necklace off until last night. Can you tell me about it? The necklace, I mean.”

She recounted to him the story of how its chain grew as she did, how the man in the store tried to pull it off to no avail, and how it had come off last night just because she wished it would, leaving out the part where they had had sex. “It was so strange. I’ve wished thousands of times over the years for it to come off, and it never did. Last night, I thought about it and it dropped to the floor. I can’t explain it,” she admitted. She did not want to give away too much information. He was a stranger, after all. “Hadrian, who is Aradia?”

“She was the daughter of Diana, Queen of the Night, and Eleanor’s half-sister.” His tone remained calm and even. It had a just-the-facts-ma’am quality about it.

“Twice tonight, someone called me her and then corrected themselves,” she stated but made it sound more like a question. She wanted more answers. Her entire life had been cocooned in secrecy, manipulation, and, she suspected, lies.

“You look a lot like her. Your hair is the same color, only curly. Your eyes are different, but the rest of your face is the same. Same height. Same build. I thought, for a moment, you were Aradia,” Hadrian admitted.

“How do you know her?” Sabrina asked.

“I loved her. I gave up my human life and an empire to be with her. Being made a vampire was the closest a human could get to immortality. We had several happy centuries together before she was caught and punished. Now she wanders the night sky over Tuscany. I can hear her whispering in the trees, but I will never touch her again,” Hadrian offered in explanation. He suddenly seemed much older, sadder.

“You never told me that,” Brandon chimed in, sounding amazed. “And here I was thinking you hated the company of others. You’ve been grieving all this time?”

“Yes.” Hadrian made it sound final. It was time to drop the subject and move on to something else.

“Do you know what Midnight’s Jewel is?” He slid closer to the edge of his seat and propped his elbows on his knees. It seemed like an effort to keep the conversation going. Her caution shifted to warning. No one asked about Midnight’s Jewel unless they wanted it. Brandon had asked as she was going to sleep, but he…

The puzzle pieces started coming together. Brandon worked for Hadrian. Hadrian wanted the jewel or information about the jewel. They had waited until Eleanor was long gone before questioning her about it. A sick feeling started building in the pit of her stomach. Had Brandon used her? Her breathing became panting and anxiety flooded her system. She looked at him in disbelief. He loved her. She just knew it. He loved her back. He said so. How could he love her, fuck her, protect her, and still betray her?

“Please, Sabrina. Don’t look at me that way. I swear I didn’t use you. Everything that has happened between us, everything we feel, has been real. I only asked about the necklace because I had to do my job,” he explained. It almost sounded like pleading.

“You fucked her!” Clay shouted. Eleanor stood in the entryway dragging an unconscious Farrell by the collar. Behind them stood a very battered Camilla gnashing her teeth at Sabrina and growling like a wolf.

Sabrina did not know what to feel first. Clay’s face flushed with anger, hurt, and embarrassment. She knew he would be unhappy with his reaction. He was usually so reserved and rarely had such outbursts.

Camilla was twitching with rage. There was real intent behind the growl. Eleanor gave Camilla a hand gesture that meant “calm down.” The wolf settled back uneasily. Sabrina remembered Eleanor’s power over wolves and knew she would not be attacked by an enraged werewolf. While Sabrina did not know the extent of Camilla’s relationship with Brandon, she suspected they had been lovers in the past. Or did he have the title of Cheater to add to his resume? It was bad enough to think he may have taken advantage of her inexperience but to have done so and cheated was beyond anything Sabrina could tolerate.

Eleanor’s expressionless face drew most of Sabrina’s attention. Eleanor looked more like a cobra, cool and calculating, waiting for the right moment to strike. The entire left side of her body from the waist down was coated in dried blood. Sabrina was sure little to none of it was Eleanor’s. She stalked into the room, dragging poor Farrell. Her eyes never left Hadrian’s. She swung him forward and deposited him at Brandon’s feet.

“This one attempted to stop my entry,” she said, turning her cold stare to Brandon. “He will exist. The damage is not permanent.”

“I take it you have finished routing your attackers,” Hadrian interjected. Sabrina could tell he wanted to deflect Eleanor’s attentions back to himself.

It did not work. She continued to glower at Brandon. “I think so. I came to check on Sabrina before sweeping the area one last time,” she responded. She turned slowly toward Sabrina, her eyes the last to move. “I felt a shift. What has happened?”

Icy cold slid down into the pit of Sabrina’s stomach. A whisper ran through her mind reminding her she was a free woman. She pulled herself up as straight as she could and tried to return Eleanor’s stare. Her own anger bubbled just below the surface.

“The spell that curtailed my powers broke. You’ve been hiding a lot from me. What am I, Eleanor? I know you know,” Sabrina demanded. Part of her wanted to rage. Part of her wanted to flee. Logic took over. She needed the information Eleanor had. Deep down, she knew her survival depended on it.

“You are the daughter of my sister. You are an orphan. You are in my care. Your powers need to be controlled.” The standard mantra spilled out automatically.