Powerful Moves [L.U.S.T.] (Siren Publishing Classic) (11 page)

“He wanted you close, wanted to know where you were so he didn’t risk you stumbling on the vamp,” Elena put in.

“Who is this vampire you speak of, the one you followed here?” The heaviness that settled in the air of the room demanded an answer more than Michael’s calm tone.

“His name is Regulus Le Mort.”

Gideon had returned to his nonchalant pose on the corner of the desk, but his foot hit the floor at the name. “Impossible!”

Tavius’s gaze was still on Michael. Otherwise he wouldn’t have seen it when the vampire actually went pale. It was pretty freaky to watch. He hadn’t known a vampire could do that. “I take it the name rings a bell.”

Michael gave a very inelegant snort. “A whole church of them. He is the one who made me. He is the one who killed…” He shook his head, cutting himself off, but not before Tavius felt the whip of anger and stinging pain lash through the room.

Elena looked from Michael to Gideon and back to Michael again. “That’s why the name sounded so familiar.”

“We killed that son of a bloodsucking bitch during the Civil War,” Gideon said. “We buried him in a marked grave.”

The Civil War?
Okay, so the twins were older than Tavius thought. “Where?”

“In a cemetery outside the Catholic church on Peachtree Road,” Michael answered. “It is the Church of the Catholic God now, I believe.”

“Any chance this church is near the Chattahoochee River?” Tavius asked.

Michael nodded. “It is.”

“That’s how he got through.”

“Through what?” Elena asked. “Do you mean through the realms?”

“Le Mort doesn’t have the power to travel through the realms. He needed the gate to return here last night. My guess is centuries ago when you buried him, someone in Atnalta pulled him through.”

“How?” Cedric asked.

Tavius shrugged. “I doubt it was planned. Back then the gates were still being perfected. Had to be someone with the power, maybe even someone who just discovered they possessed the ability but didn’t know how to control it. Only a select few can pull another being through that way, and it takes great concentration and direction.”

“Can you do it?” Elena asked.

Tavius shook his head. “I can realm jump myself, but I can’t bring anyone or anything along for the ride. The portal gates only allow living form and the clothing that covers it to pass through. That’s the reason Lerak took the risk of writing down the plans rather than simply backing them up on a flash drive as Gideon suggested. Le Mort wouldn’t have been able to bring it through the portal. But with the plans written, he only had to shove the papers in his pocket.”

“Le Mort has been there all this time.” Michael eased Elena off his lap and stood. He started to pace in long, thoughtful strides behind his desk. When he spoke, it sounded to be more to himself than anyone in the room. “Not dead but alive and residing in a parallel realm.”

“Now he’s back.” Gideon walked to Michael and put a hand on his twin’s shoulder. “Here, in our realm, on our Earth.”

“I take it this vampire is dangerous.” Meredith’s voice rang with worry and a hint of fear.

Michael answered with his back to her. “I have never come across worse.”

“So we track the guy.” Cedric pushed off the wall and stood with his feet slightly apart, hands fisted at his sides, obviously ready to rock. “And kill him for real this time.” He pinned Tavius with a hard, determined glare. “Any chance of him jumping back to this Terra realm?”

“The gate he built on Terra has been sealed. I left orders for that to be done before I left. He’s trapped here, likely looking for someone to either pay for the plans or make them for him, or both.”

“He’s greedy, cold, heartless,” Gideon said.

“Aren’t all vampires?” Michael asked scornfully.

Tavius lifted a surprised brow. He agreed with Gideon. He never would’ve expected Michael, a vampire himself, to agree, too.

“No, not all, brother,” Gideon told him in a tone that even Tavius found comforting.

“There’s one more thing.” Tavius waited until he knew he had both men’s attention before he continued. “I heard Lerak mention a name last night, something about The Whisperer. Mean anything to either of you?”

Michael and Gideon stilled so completely it was as if they turned to statues before his very eyes. Only their heads moved as they looked at Elena.

Tavius followed their gazes. His blood chilled when he saw how pale Elena had become. “Elena, what’s wrong?”

He collided with Cedric as they both rushed to her side. Cedric got to her first. The man hooked an arm around her, pulling her close. Gritting his teeth, Tavius stopped in his tracks. He knew when to pick his battles. Though now wasn’t the time, he suspected a fight with Cedric wouldn’t be too far in his future.

Elena nuzzled her cheek against Cedric’s chest, but her gaze held Tavius’s. “The Whisperer is a tango,” she told him in a voice so tight, so soft he had to tap into his augmented hearing to make out the words. “A terrorist named Douglas Cabot. He’s my real father.”

* * * *

Regulus Le Mort indulged in a satisfied smirk. Lerak’s howl of pain echoed in his mind as Regulus sliced their mental connection to an abrupt end. It pleased him that the connection survived the realm travel. He hadn’t been sure it would even after drinking the dark elf’s foul-tasting blood. It pleased him more that he could control the contact, cut it off at will, and yes, even render a nice jolt of agony to the incompetent elf in the process. Failure such as Lerak’s deserved such treatment.

“Is there a problem, master?” Armand’s voice trembled with fear.

Regulus didn’t spare the Lycan a glance. He already knew what he would find at his side. A Lycan in human form with shaggy red hair, pale flesh, and beady eyes who smelled as though he hadn’t bathed during the centuries Regulus had been gone.

Regulus far preferred to stare out at the night. Many more things served as a treat to his eyes in the city below. He didn’t feel the heat of the night as he stared down from the top of the Chateau Bourbon at the free flow of people partying in the streets. He saw the evidence of it in the bands of sweat trickling down their faces, marring their face paint and making most look humorously horrid in their costumes.

“It seems I was followed.” A fact he would see Lerak paid for dearly upon his return to Terra. He had given the dark elf a single task. Lerak had only to keep Zolan busy while Regulus made his escape. Lerak failed. “I sensed as much.” It was why he had arranged to meet Armand in a city that put great distance and confusion between himself and Atlanta. “Tavius Zolan is both powerful and intelligent.”

And Lerak was a fool. A stronger dark elf would’ve served him better but wouldn’t have been as easy to manipulate. Such were the trials Regulus discovered, brains verses obedience. He chose obedience, and look what it got him.

“You should have killed him.”

“Are you telling me how to handle my affairs now, Armand?” Regulus let the anger in his tone serve as warning.

“No! No.” Armand gulped audibly. “I would never attempt to tell you what to do, Master.”

“A smart move on your part, I assure you.” Though he felt no need to explain his actions to the lesser Lycan, Regulus told him, “Tavius Zolan is the son of an important man in Atnalta. He would have been missed. Killing him would have attracted too much attention.”

“He won’t be missed here. You could kill him now. You don’t need a pesky problem like this Zolan standing in the way of your plans.”

A pesky problem
. Regulus slid his hands in the pockets of the long overcoat he wore over his bare chest and black trousers. Yes, he found that a perfect description for Tavius Zolan. “He will not stand in my way.”

“We’re going to kill him?” Excitement dripped from Armand’s tone. “Let me hunt him, Master. Let me kill him for you. Let me—”

Regulus held up a hand, silencing the Lycan’s pleas. Armand’s eagerness disgusted him. Centuries hadn’t changed how weak and stupid the Lycan had always been. Nor had it taken away his loyalty. The last pleased Regulus. It gave him something to use.

“You are the only one of old left to me, Armand.” Out of a slew of nearly one hundred beings under his command, this Lycan turned out to be the only survivor.

“I’ve awaited your return, Master. I’ve counted the days until I could serve you again.”

“You hid.” Loyal or not, Regulus found the spinelessness of the action revolting. He would reward the Lycan, and then he would see the coward got his right deserve.

“They would have slain me like they did all the others,” Armand spoke quickly in his defense. “I lived because they couldn’t find me. I stayed one step ahead of them always. I never believed you truly dead. I knew one day you would return, and I waited for that day, watching, listening always for any sign of you.”

And now he expected gratitude. Regulus didn’t find amusement in many things, but that nearly made him roar with laughter. He knew the
they
Armand spoke of to be Michael and Gideon. The vampire and werewolf twins hunted down and killed any and all of Regulus’s followers and thought they had done the same to him. They slew their own kind and didn’t stop until all who shared even the most remote connection with Regulus were dead before reaching their own demise. They only missed one, Armand.

Is it my new destiny to be left with only idiots to do my bidding
?

“You will be rewarded for your loyalty.” Though he already made the decision, Regulus loathed saying the words aloud. He loathed more the knowledge that he needed this fool. He would need someone to watch over him in the daylight hours. Armand also knew the way to The Whisperer.

“I get to kill him?” Armand’s excitement spilled in power on the air.

“No. I want him alive,” Regulus said quickly. He might find use for the human yet. “We will play with him first. We will make him a pawn in our little game of fun.” He scanned the crowd below, let his gaze rise to encompass the whole of the French Quarter, the delightful Bourbon Street offering such delicacies of fun. “There is another night of this Mardi Gras before it comes to an end. I wish to enjoy a piece of it. Many things have changed in this realm since my departure.”

“You’ve been gone for centuries, Master. What you see here is only the beginning of the changes.”

“Then I will enjoy a piece of those changes as well. I wish to explore this realm. I wish to see more.” He needed to build another following, find others who would serve him in both dark and light.

Preferably ones with brains larger than a field mouse’s
.

“We’re going to make him chase us.” Armand rubbed his palms together in approval.

Lerak told Regulus of the chase he led Zolan on the night Regulus made his escape. Despite the dark elf’s lack of success, the idea appealed to Regulus. “We will see how well Zolan can keep up in this realm. There are many changes here, but this is still my world, Armand. We will see how well the Terrian fairs on my turf. Then you will lead me to The Whisperer, where we will conduct our true business.” Then he would see that the full details of his plans unfolded to ensure him a reign of power stronger than he had ever known.

* * * *

Elena felt the frustration coming off Tavius in waves of power in the compact interior of the car. It stroked her flesh, teased the fine hairs on the back of her neck until they stood on end, and caused goose pimples of electrified need to rise on her arms. She fought to keep her attention focused on the dimly lit road ahead, but her peripheral vision betrayed her. It sharpened despite her attempts to ignore the man beside her, drinking in the sight like a chilled, refreshing glass of iced tea. Given the heat that radiated off the man in continuous waves, a glass of iced tea would be welcome right about now.

Ignore Tavius Zolan. Ha! Who was she kidding? How did a hot-blooded female ignore strong legs encased in drool-hugging denim? He sat with one leg stretched, the other bent at the knee. She couldn’t glance his way without fixating on the fact that he was hugely, deliciously aroused. She wondered if the hard-on stemmed from the anger, power, desire, or a combination of the three.

His left hand rested on his upper thigh, the fingers extended straight. Long fingers that could probe her channel in deep, womb-stroking thrusts. His right elbow rested on the door, the hand holding loosely to the frame as he stared out the window into the night. She saw only the side profile of his face, but it was enough to let her know the muscle ticked in his jaw with a renewed infuriation.

Here she sat unable to concentrate on anything but him, and he seemed to have forgotten she was even in the car. The silence started to weigh too heavy for her comfort. Elena cleared her throat and broke it.

“Sometimes technology is the best way to travel. I’m surprised you don’t feel that way coming from a realm as advanced as you say Terra is.”

Tavius didn’t turn from the window when he responded with a dry, “Sometimes the best technology is still slower than molasses, too.”

Elena couldn’t argue there. Even driving twenty-plus miles an hour over the speed limit, it would take them over five hours to reach New Orleans. “It’s just as well. We should stay together. You said you couldn’t teleport more than yourself about anyway.”