The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith (39 page)

"What prisoner means most to them?"

Stoddard knew the answer but stayed quiet so Clark could supply it.

"Princess Adele." The senator backhanded Stoddard on the chest,
raising a wince. "If they already had her, they'd be heading south.
Toward London. But they aren't, are they?"

"No, sir. North."

"North. So they're still chasing her."

Stoddard inclined his head and smiled too. He wasn't sure why. It
seemed the thing to do.

Clark said, "So we follow them. They'll lead us right to my wife."

Now the major frowned. "That's pretty thin evidence, sir."

Clark wasn't fazed by the criticism. Stoddard was allowed token
resistance to the Great Man on occasion, though it was occurring
more and more often. That was something Clark would have to
remedy soon. The senator glanced back down at the tattered airship.
"What else have we got, Major? We've been floating out here for
weeks doing nothing."

"No, sir. But we are low on supplies. And our nearest base is still
days away."

The senator raised his iron eyes. "Base? We aren't going back
without her, Major. I thought I was clear on that. If we do not find my
future wife, no man will come back alive."

"Yes, sir."

"So what's your thought now?"

"North, sir."

"Quite right, Major Stoddard. Please instruct Captain Root to shadow that airship. And if we are spotted by them, I will personally
throw every man jack of Ranger's officer corps overboard."

"Yes, sir."

"Exactly as I said it, Major. I'm dead serious."

"Yes, sir. Overboard, sir."

Clark laughed and gripped the rail in excitement. Now this was
living.

The morning after the conversation in the library, Adele sought out the
beckoning soft glow of the kitchen fires. It was easy to understand why
Morgana loved being down there. Adele wanted to thank the servant for
helping Gareth orchestrate the dinner, but she also needed her help with
a simple matter.

The kitchen was empty. Morgana was nowhere to be found. Disappointed but not undone, Adele looked for the implement she needed for
her chore, but after minutes of fruitless searching she came up empty.
Huffing with mild frustration she closed yet another drawer, so caught
up in her search she failed to see the dark figure to her left. It startled
her.

"Baudoin."

The servant stared at her. "Do you need something?"

"Is Morgana here?" Adele didn't really want Baudoin involved in the
matter.

"No. A human is ill and she has gone to help."

"Oh." This news was upsetting. "Who is sick?"

"I do not know."

Adele stifled a sigh at the vampire's seeming disinterest in a sick
human. Baudoin possessed only rudimentary manners. He was no
Gareth, that was for sure. "Do you know how long she'll be gone?"

"I did not ask."

"I see." Adele gave in. "I'm looking for scissors."

He stared blankly at her.

"Scissors. You use them for cutting things." She demonstrated the action with her fingers. "You know, scissors." His obvious incomprehension spoke otherwise. "No matter. I'll find some eventually." She darted
past him and back into the main part of the castle. By the small itch on
her back she knew he stared after her.

Her hunt for scissors continued for hours; she ventured into every
room. She searched through dusty piles, rifled in cabinets and
wardrobes, and shifted mobs of cats who inhabited every cranny.

Adele entered a vast room with weapons and armor standing along
both walls like a bizarre receiving line. The space was bathed in sunlight
streaming through many tall windows decorated with colored glass that
cast wonderful surreal works of art on the walls and floor. She loved this
room. Lifting her skirt a little, she spun around in a circle and danced a
small minuet with an imaginary prince before noticing Gareth watching
her from the frame of the door. She stumbled to a halt.

His head was tilted to the side, and he seemed fascinated with her
girlish glee. "I was told that you were in need of this." He held aloft a
pair of shiny scissors.

Delighted, she approached him and took them from him. It came as
a surprise that Baudoin had bothered to relate the small request to his
master. "Thank you! These will do splendidly."

"Do what?"

"Cut my hair," she responded, and turned back into the room.

Gareth stepped forward. "Here. Let me."

"No, I think I can manage. I don't suppose Morgana has returned."

"Not yet. It would be easier for me to do it."

Gareth's hands were at the back of her shoulders, arranging her hair.
She immediately stiffened as a wave of chills washed over her. He hadn't
been so close behind her in many weeks-not since his time as Greyfriar.

Gareth sensed the change in her. He took a slight step back. "I only
wanted to help."

"I know," Adele assured him, drawing in a steady breath. Her hands
on her hips, she studied him up and down, in particular his long fingers.
"Do you even know how to use scissors?"

"I imagine I can handle it," Gareth said confidently.

Adele thrust the scissors at him. "Show me."

One of his eyebrows steadily rose, and at its highest apex, he snatched
the implement. He studied the oval holes in the handle, trying to recall
how he had witnessed humans use them over the years. With a smirk of
triumph he slipped his fingers through the holes and held them up.

Adele pursed her lips, not convinced. "Now snip."

"What?"

Bemused at his fuddled expression, she demonstrated with her
slicing fingers exactly as she had shown Baudoin earlier. "I just want to
see you operate them."

"Oh." It took all his concentration to mimic the correct action. To
his relief, she wasn't laughing at him. "Do you trust me now?"

Adele's smile faltered as she realized that this event had come down to
that simple question. Her playful little game had suddenly turned to
something else. To say no to him could undermine how far they had come
together. In truth, she did trust him. Her fear of him had been lost long
ago, and her anger had faded too. She hadn't expected this simple act of
cutting her hair to go this far, however. Suddenly she had a choice to make.

"I see." His humor fell away. "I presumed too much."

Adele straightened with resolve, presenting her back to him. "I do
trust you. Cut it short."

Her body trembled slightly as he once again moved close to her. It
was not the fear of him standing behind her with a sharp implement that
drove the breath from her lungs; it was Gareth's proximity alone. Her
tangle of hair lifted, and even though she was prepared for his touch, she
gasped faintly as his gentle fingers brushed the nape of her exposed neck.
His breathing was strong enough to blow a temperate breeze across her
bared skin, while his cool touch skimmed quickly after it, bringing rise
to waves of chills.

Then his head bent to the task at hand. Awkwardly, he struggled to
angle the scissors and keep them far from her skin. The scissors would
not obey him as his swords did. This called for his fingers to work in
unison and opposition at the same time. He yanked Adele's hair several
times as he jockeyed to angle the scissors properly.

She tried to turn around, but Gareth caught her head with his hands
and pushed it forward. "Hold still," he commanded, intent on his work.

A glimpse showed Gareth with his elbow at a ridiculous angle, practically over her head, as he attempted to cut. It was as if a left-hander
was trying to use scissors. Adele wanted to laugh but thought it prudent
not to for the sake of her haircut. He cursed in vampire, a sharp hiss
practically guttural.

"Maybe I should just do it," Adele offered. Again, she tried to turn
around a little more urgently, a little more unnerved.

Gareth maintained a stern voice and grabbed hold of her head once
more. "No. It's fine. Almost have it."

Her eyes closed, willing the panic to subside. Then suddenly there
was the metallic sound of scissors, and the weight began to drop from
her head. It continued for what seemed like hours.

"There!" Gareth held a handful of her shorn locks like a trophy. "It
is done!"

Adele's hand instinctively touched the back of her neck, as much to
feel the difference as to still the goose bumps still running rampant. The
cut was ghastly short. Her neck was cold.

Her gaze lifted almost shyly to Gareth's. "Thank you."

"Do you need more?" His fingers flicked the scissors.

Laughter burst out of her at his enthusiasm for this new skill. "No,
no. I think this one haircut is quite sufficient."

"What do I do with this?" He eyed the lock of hair in his hand
quizzically.

With a shrug of her shoulders, she ran her fingers through her
remaining hair. It felt very odd to her. "Throw it out, I guess. I don't
need it. Though I would kill for a mirror right now."

Gareth instantly wrenched a battle shield from the wall and held it
up in front of her. "Will this do?"

The shield had once been shiny from chrome plating, but it was tarnished grey now. Even so, Adele could see clear enough the travesty that
was her hair. It was still tangled on top, but cut straight just above the
nape of her neck. She ran her fingers over the rough ends.

Gareth asked, "Is there a problem?"

"No. No. It's ... delightful."

"Don't move." He stood close by her side, touching her shoulders and hips, and held up the shield before them. "See. I cast a reflection. I
am real."

Adele saw herself with Gareth for the first time. She wore the rude
homespun outfit from Canterbury with a haircut that looked like she
had caught her head in a wheat thresher. Gareth was tall and slender in
his typical stylish grey and black. Their images were both distorted by
the slope of the shield and obscured by the patina. But still, she smiled.

He was real. He was not a monster.

N EARLY MORNING fog enshrouded the city of Edinburgh,
casting it as a surreal and eerie kingdom. But Adele was not
afraid of the dark closes or the leaden skies. Gareth walked at her side,
her personal guide. Where once she had shuddered to see his shadow on
the ramparts, now she was grateful for his presence. Though she had
been bold and obstinate when she ventured out into the city those early
days, there had always been some fear in her heart. She had defied it, but
that didn't mean it wasn't present. Not today, though. Today seemed to
be a new experience for Adele.

Gareth had something else new to show her. They were going
steeply downhill, away from the towering castle, and the fog deepened
around them. A few figures strolled past them through the mist, going
about their business as if a vampire wasn't within reach. As if no vampires had ever come here more than a century before.

Soon they began to head up again, still walking south along a
road once called Candlemaker Row, where Adele had not ventured
before. The tendrils of fog slipped around their legs as they trod up
the cobblestones. Adele did not see the tall iron gates until she was
almost on top of them. Beyond the wrought iron lay a magnificent
structure of old stone. All around it were gravestones topped with crosses and magnificent monuments to bless and honor the dead. It
was a churchyard.