Refuge (11 page)

“I’ll talk to Sahir and see what he says. I
cannot make any promises.”

“Thank you.” I was confident that once he saw
they could be trusted around others, he would give them more
freedom. “You have miles and miles of woods out there, perfect for
them to run in. I could take them out every day without bothering
anyone.”

Tristan laid down his fork. “It is not a good
idea for you to be out in the woods alone.” I started to protest,
and he said, “I know you are unhappy with the restrictions placed
upon you, but we are only trying to keep you safe after everything
you’ve been through.”

“But everyone thinks I’m dead, including the
vampires.”

“You will have to forgive me for being a
little overprotective. I believe that is a grandsire’s right. Just
be patient a little longer until we can be certain this Master is
not still searching for you. We are monitoring activity around
Maine, and so far it is very quiet there.”

“I could have told you how quiet it is in
Maine.” I shrugged at his questioning look. “I have werewolf
friends there, remember? Anyway, trust me; no one wants the Master
to think I am dead more than I do. I can’t even go for a walk
without one of the warriors escorting me back in irons.”

He laughed. “I’ll tell them to lay off the
irons. In the meantime, why don’t I arrange for a day out for you?
How about a day trip to Boise? With supervision, of course.”

“Okay,” I conceded, excited about the
possibility of a change of scenery, even if it was only for a
day.

He got up to take away our salad plates, and
my eyes wandered around his apartment, which had a decidedly
masculine décor. It made sense since he had been a widower for so
long. There were some softer touches like a pale-blue throw on the
back of the couch and a number of framed photos and paintings on
the mantle and walls. One photo in particular caught my eye, and I
knew immediately who the blond woman was because I had seen the
faded picture of her that my dad used to carry in his wallet.
Madeline was stunningly beautiful – even Celine could not compare –
and the happy smile she wore did not reconcile with my image of the
woman who had hurt me and my dad so much.

Questions that had hovered in the recesses of
my mind for weeks finally pushed their way to the forefront. My dad
and Madeline met in college, according to Nate, and they’d dated
for several years before they married. They were married for two
years before they had me, and she left when I was two. In all those
years with Madeline, didn’t my dad realize she was not aging at
all? How did Madeline hide her strength and control her Mori
without him ever suspecting she was not human? Or had he known what
she was all along? I bit my lip and looked away from the photo.
There was no sense pondering over questions that would never be
answered.

Another picture got my attention, a painting
of the same blond girl from the portrait in Tristan’s office. “Is
that your sister?” I asked him, and he turned and followed my gaze
to the painting in question. “Nikolas once mentioned his friend,
Elena, who died a long time ago, and he said she was Madeline’s
aunt.”

He laid a plate of salmon and rice in front
of me and took his seat again. “Elena was my younger sister, much
younger. I was almost two hundred years old and quite surprised
when my parents told me they were having another baby. It is not
unusual for Mohiri siblings to have many years between them, but my
parents love to travel and they are not what you would call the
most affectionate people. They were already here exploring America
by then, and I decided to come here to be with them when the child
was born. Elena was the most captivating little baby, and of course
I adored her immediately and spoiled her excessively. When she was
five, my parents decided they wanted to continue their travels, and
it didn’t take much convincing to get them to leave Elena with
me.”

“A warrior raising a little girl?”

He cut into his salmon. “My sister, Beatrice,
would have taken Elena, but she was in South America at the time. I
lived in a family compound in Virginia back then, and it was more
of a community than this one. There were other children for Elena
to play with and women to go to when I needed advice. It was a lot
more suitable for a child than travelling the world, and Elena had
a very happy childhood there.”

“Nikolas told me very little about her,” I
said softly. “But it sounded like he cared about her a lot.”

Tristan nodded. “I am not surprised he
mentioned her. Nikolas came to our compound when Elena was nine,
and he spoiled her like the rest of us did. She was like a little
sister to him, and he took her death very hard. He blamed himself
even though I and everyone else told him it was not his fault. My
sister was beautiful and used to people doting on her. She was
precocious and charming, but she was also willful, and I blame
myself for that. She never should have left the compound alone, and
she died because of it.”

“Why did Nikolas blame himself?”

“As I said, Nikolas loved Elena like a
sister, but Elena, she adored him and she constantly tried to get
his attention. By the time she was sixteen, most of the boys in the
compound believed themselves in love with her, but she only had
eyes for Nikolas. He knew how she felt and he always deflected her
attentions gently, but she was determined to have him and nothing
would dissuade her. Her schemes to get him alone grew more creative
every day until even I began to tease him about us one day being
brothers if he was not careful. If only I had known the lengths she
would go to be with him, I might have intervened before her games
got out of control. I might have saved her.”

“What happened?”

“Elena knew how protective Nikolas was of
her. She concocted a plan to sneak away from the compound, and she
had her friend Miriam go to Nikolas and tell him Elena had run
away. Miriam confessed later that they were hoping the thought of
losing Elena would make Nikolas realize his true feelings for her.
But Miriam could not get to Nikolas because he was giving a report
before the Counsel at the time. By the time she found him, four
hours had passed and she was in a panic because it was nearly dark.
Nikolas raised the alarm, and a group of us rode out after Elena.
We picked up signs of vampires, and we split up to cover the area
faster.”

Tristan paused, and I saw raw pain on his
face as he continued. “It was Nikolas who found her. What they did
to her . . . it was beyond inhuman. After they had finished their
fun, they burned what was left of her until my beautiful little
sister was unrecognizable. They left her horse unharmed and tied to
a tree, a message to us that her life meant less than an
animal’s.”

“God . . . ” I had seen what vampires left
behind of the people they killed. I also knew they took special
delight in killing young Mohiri.

“Nikolas took her death as hard as I did, and
he blamed himself for not making her understand that there could
never be anything romantic between them. He stayed out for months
until he had hunted down every vampire in a hundred-mile radius. I
tried to convince him that he was not at fault and that no one
blamed him for her death, but he would not listen. He was different
after that, harder. A year later, I left Virginia and came here to
build this place, and he came with me. We both wanted something
that did not remind us of Virginia, which is why we made this into
a military stronghold instead of a community.”

“I’m sorry about your sister,” I said, not
knowing what to say about someone who’d been dead for so many
years. “It’s no wonder Nikolas gets so overbearing and angry with
me all the time.”

“Sara, do not compare yourself to Elena.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my sister with all my heart, but I was
not blind to her faults. Elena was beautiful and spirited, but she
was also spoiled and selfish. You have done some reckless things in
the past, but you are also very loyal to your friends and you have
a kind heart. Sahir tells me you bring raw meat treats for the
wyvern when you visit the hellhounds, even though that creature
would likely try to kill you given the chance.”

“He can’t help what he is, and I know he must
get lonely in there, especially not being able to fly. Don’t worry,
I don’t expect him to eat out of my hand or anything, and I’ll be
keeping my distance. I like my body parts where they are.”

We laughed and turned the conversation to
other things. He wanted to hear more about my life, so I described
what it was like growing up with Roland and Peter. And Remy. I told
him about Roland’s recent trip to the cave and how much it meant to
get the message from Remy.

We were in the middle of our dessert when I
remembered something I’d been meaning to talk to him about. “I saw
Desmund again last night.”

“Did you?” He took a sip from his wine glass.
“And how did it go?”

“Better than I expected. We both like books
and Tchaikovsky, so he thinks I’m not a total lost cause. We even
played a game of checkers.”

Tristan’s eyes widened. “You got Desmund to
play checkers? I haven’t seen him play anything but chess since
I’ve known him.”

“I don’t know how to play chess, so it was
checkers or nothing at all.” I dabbed my napkin to my mouth then
laid it beside my plate. “Honestly, I think the only reason he
played with me is because he’s lonely. Why does he stay up there
all alone like that? I mean, I can tell he’s not well, but he’s not
that bad, is he?”

Tristan settled back in his chair. “You might
be the first person in a long time to feel some kind of empathy for
Desmund. He goes out of his way to frighten most people away.”

“Why? He’s obviously intelligent, and he can
be nice when he wants to be. Why does he drive everyone away?”

“Desmund is not the same man he was before he
became ill. He was charming and outgoing and one of the finest
warriors I’ve ever met.”

During my time with Desmund last night, I had
seen tiny flashes of the man Tristan described, and it was sad to
think of how much he had changed. “What happened to him?”

There was a short pause before he answered.
“It was a Hale witch. Desmund and his team were in Algeria hunting
a nest of vampires that had wiped out over half a village. The
witch took offense to them being in his territory even though they
were there to help his people. Desmund confronted him to draw him
away from the rest of his team, and he took the brunt of the
witch’s attack. He spent many years in confinement before he was
stable enough to be released. It’s a testament to his strength that
he has come this far, but I fear he will never be the man he once
was.”

I couldn’t respond because I was reliving my
own battle with a Hale witch, remembering the horror of that vile
magic burrowing inside my head like a maggot. My throat tightened
at the agony Desmund had gone through, and I felt a surge of
admiration for him having taken the brunt of the witch’s power to
save his team.

“Are you okay?”

I summoned a smile I didn’t feel. “It just
brought up some memories I’d rather forget.” Now I understood the
cold nausea that had overcome me when I’d touched Desmund’s hand
and the sensation of things crawling over my skin. It felt like the
same abhorrent presence that had invaded my mind. What I couldn’t
understand was how the witch’s magic could still be alive inside
Desmund over a century later. I’d thought Hale witches used their
magic to damage their victim, but what if it was more than that?
What if they were able to leave some of their magic behind?

“It must have been frightening.”

“It was. Now that I know their magic doesn’t
work on me, they don’t scare me as much.”

He nodded approvingly. “You’ve become
stronger because of your experience. That is one of the marks of a
good warrior.”

“I don’t know about that,” I replied wryly.
“You do remember seeing me in training, right?”

“I take it your training with Callum is still
not going well?”

“No, and I’m pretty sure he’s almost fed up
with me.” My shoulders slumped. “I know what he wants me to do, but
I honestly don’t know if I can do it. I’ve spent my whole life
keeping my Mori under control. The one time I let it out, it almost
destroyed me.”

“And now you’re afraid of it.”

“Yes,” I admitted.

He took his time folding his napkin and
laying it beside his plate as if he was searching for the right
words. “We are taught from an early age how to contain our Mori and
to find a balance between ourselves and our demons. It is second
nature for us to tap into their power, but even then, we sometimes
struggle with control. Your power gives you incredible control over
your Mori, and now we are asking you to loosen that control. I can
see how that would be very difficult for you, and I’ve been
thinking that we may be going about your training the wrong way.
Perhaps we should try some other techniques on you.”

“Like what?” I asked hopefully.

“Maybe pair you with a trainer more sensitive
to your particular needs. There is one in India who relies heavily
on meditation. Janak’s had some success with a few troubled orphans
we have sent to him.” By
troubled
, I knew he meant the orphans were suffering
from psychological problems caused by their demons. The older an
orphan was before they were found, the more likely it was that
their Mori would torment them into insanity.

Tristan smiled and pushed out his chair.
“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out. For now, why don’t we go
into the living room and see if I can’t teach you a few checker
moves to try on our friend Desmund when you see him again?”

Over the next few days, I found myself
settling into a familiar routine. After a disappointing morning
training with Callum, I visited the menagerie. Hugo and Woolf were
always excited to see me, and I spent our time together teaching
them to walk beside me properly and to heel when commanded. I was
determined to show Tristan that they were well-behaved enough to be
trusted out of their cage. I understood Tristan’s reservations –
they were hellhounds after all, bred and raised to kill – but I
also saw gentleness in them and I refused to condemn them to a life
of confinement.