“He’s dead. He died when Ian was very young. Murdered by vampires. Some of your kind who didn’t like the coming out parties, and wanted vampires to be the feared creatures who went bump in the night instead of the neighbor next door who could vote and pay taxes. They killed him and laughed about it. Some of your buddies?” She told the story without any anger. It had been far too long ago for anger. All she had left was cold hatred and the need for revenge.
The need to protect her son, no matter what the cost.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Nicholas said, and he was so good—so smooth—that he put actual regret in his voice.
“Don’t bother,” she said. “You don’t need to warm me up or pretend you care about the death of some random human ten years ago. You have me, you have my son. I have to do what you ask, so don’t waste both of our time by pretending otherwise.”
He stepped forward, into her line of sight, and leaned against the wall, and she was struck again by how incredibly handsome he was, at least when his eyes weren’t glowing red or somebody’s intestines weren’t draped over his arm. So many of them were attractive. Vampires. Beauty disguising evil, or designed to seduce its prey.
A flash of some indefinable emotion crossed his eyes but was gone so fast she’d probably imagined it. Or else he was trying compulsion on her, in which case he was out of luck.
“I was a random human once,” he said softly. “As were my wife and son. The memory of my family was not burned out of me by the bloodlust, even in the beginning. I know full well what you would do to protect your son from vampires, because my wife protected my son from me.”
She looked up at him, caught in spite of herself by the pain in his voice. Or the illusion of it, she reminded herself. Vampires were masters of illusion. And yet, she knew full well that she was immune to compulsion.
“How did it happen? Why did you choose to become a vampire, then, if you lost your family over it?”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Choose? Did your husband choose to be murdered? There was no choosing involved. I was happy and wealthy, and there were ones who wanted what I had. When I was lost to the bloodlust, they murdered my wife and child, too. Apparently they only wanted my land and fortune, not my family.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I know how you felt.”
“No, you don’t,” he replied, just as quietly. “I had the luxury of killing those who took my family. I doubt you had that.”
“No. No, I didn’t. Not that I didn’t try. Someday, though. Someday they will look up, and it will be me they see, and then they will see nothing forever after.” She shoved her hair out of her face and took a deep breath. “On the other hand, I haven’t had to mourn for centuries. How long has it been?”
His face changed, and she almost wished she hadn’t seen it. The hard lines and angles softened, and he stared at her as if she’d shocked him. He looked almost . . . human.
“No one has ever asked me that, or even spared a thought for my centuries of pain,” he said, bowing his head. “Your son is who he is because of you; your soul and spirit. His father would be very proud of him.”
She fought the burning sensation of tears, steeling herself with the absurdity of it all. Comforted by kind words from a vampire. Ridiculous. And yet—and yet he had never lifted a hand to harm her, and he’d protected Ian.
No. Foolish. What was she, an idiot with Stockholm Syndrome?
“You’ve threatened me in order to get me to help you,” she said. “Don’t pretend I’m here voluntarily, or that you respect me or want us to be buddies.”
He raised an eyebrow, and the cold, sneering haughtiness returned to his expression. “I haven’t had a buddy in over three hundred years. Why should that change now?”
“Tell me about the painting in the ceiling, then,” she said, desperate for a new topic, before she actually started to feel sorry for him. “What did you see? What does it mean?”
“I have no idea. I can guess, but my guesses are pretty wild. I’ll need you to confirm that anything I think might be possible, actually is.”
“Of course. And if I blow a brain aneurysm trying to channel that damn stone, oh, well, you can always replace me,” she said bitterly.
Ian stirred on the cot and opened his eyes, probably because she’d raised her voice, and Nicholas walked away.
“I’m not so sure about that anymore,” he said as he left, and she turned to watch him just as he glanced back at her.
The look burning in his eyes terrified her more than anything else that had happened over the past few days. It was
hunger
. She was sure of it.
And she didn’t think it had anything to do with her blood.
Nicholas edged as close to the entrance of the cave as he could get without stepping into the sunlight and bursting into flames. Although flames might be a relief, compared to the confusion churning in his gut. He wanted to rule the vampires of North America. Consolidate his power. Take over the primator position. A little invulnerability to go with his near-immortality wouldn’t hurt.
The last thing he needed was to allow a temporary weakness over one lovely witch and her courageous son to interfere with any of his goals. He heard the boy walking across the cave toward him but ignored him.
Unfortunately, teenage boys weren’t all that great about being ignored.
“What’s the painting about? Did you figure it out after Mom made me take a nap?”
“Are you ever silent when you’re awake?”
Ian laughed, and Nicholas caught himself smiling at the sound.
No, no, no, no, no.
“Not too often. When I’m eating, mostly.”
“So go eat something.”
“Did you?” Ian challenged him. “Eat somebody?”
Unfortunately not. He’d had an unexpected change of heart about the terrified human his minions had abducted for him, and he’d compelled her to sleep and then wake up with no memory of the encounter. She was safely home now, unaware of how close she’d come to being lunch.
“Yes,” he lied. “Several people. Drained them dry and picked my teeth with their bones.”
Ian gasped. Finally. Fear: a sensible reaction.
“Hey! You made that up. Picked your teeth with their bones? Come on. I don’t see any bones around here.”
“Ian!” Ivy’s tone was unmistakable, and Ian scuffed one shoe on the ground.
“Aw, Mom—”
“No. Do you really want to banter with a vampire you saw eviscerate a human being only hours ago?”
The light drained from Ian’s eyes, and true fear replaced it. He slowly backed away from Nicholas, who felt a strangely empty feeling in his gut. Almost like loss, although that was ridiculous.
Ridiculous.
“Yes, I think I know what the painting means.” He pulled out his phone and showed them the picture he’d taken. “I think I know what the gem’s name is, too.”
“It has a name? Like the Hope Diamond?” Ian stared at the photo, fascination outweighing his momentary fear. Nicholas was inexplicably glad of that.
“I believe it does. Objects of power are often named,” Nicholas said. “Do you see how it’s glowing with purple light? It must be our stone. See how the people are all bowing to it? And the symbol etched below the stone, I have seen similar symbols before. I believe the gem is called the Ruler, or the King.”
“Cool. Also, vampires have smart phones?”
“What did you expect? Carrier pigeons?”
Ivy raised an eyebrow “You get all that from this primitive painting? You’re kidding, right? What does that glowing purple skeleton mean, then? The amethyst makes bones dance?”
“Bone Dance would be an excellent name for a rock band,” Ian said.
Nicholas and Ivy both looked at him, and his ears turned pink.
“Sorry. Totally random.”
“What about the city under the water?” Ivy pointed to the tiny shape in the upper left corner. “What is that?”
“That must be Atlantis.”
Ivy started laughing. “Atlantis. Right.”
Nicholas shoved the phone in his pocket, caught Ivy around the waist, and soared up to the hole in the ceiling so she could see it herself. This time he brought the lantern with him, although it was much lighter in the cave now since it was midday.
He turned her so her back was to his chest and leaned down to speak close to her ear. “There. Do you see it? A city under the sea, and those shapes you couldn’t make out in the tiny photo on the phone are leaping dolphins and possibly the sea god carrying his trident. What else could it be?”
Her heart rate sped up significantly, and he didn’t know if it was from fear or something else. Something that was too dangerous to even consider, because if the witch was attracted to him, too, he had a bigger problem than he’d feared.
“I don’t know. Maybe. But Atlantis?” she finally said, and her voice shook a little.
“You’re a witch, and I’m a vampire,” he said, tightening his arm around her waist, just a fraction, just enough to feel the length of her soft, warm, curvy body against his. “Is Atlantis truly so impossible?”
“Yes. No. Whatever. Please put me down,” she said, but he could feel that she was trembling, and he had to clamp down with every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from sinking his teeth into her neck or sinking another part of his body into her elsewhere.
“Mom! What do you see?” Ian’s voice had the exact same effect as a blast of cold water. It wasn’t exactly good to have wicked thoughts about the boy’s mother when he was standing right beneath them.
He floated them back down to the ground and was obscurely pleased to see the flush in Ivy’s cheeks when he released her.
“I don’t know. It might be about Atlantis. Maybe not. I’m not sure what that means to you, though,” she told Nicholas. “What about that dark woman floating in the air above the guy with the trident?”
Nicholas repressed a shudder at the thought of what that dark figure might truly mean. If Anubisa were to claim ownership of the gem, she wouldn’t look kindly on any who stole it. And when the goddess of Chaos and Night was unhappy, people and vampires died in horrible ways. None of that was anything he could share with Ivy, however.
“The least that the gem, the King if you will, does is find me enough treasure to gain the power to win the primator job. The most it might do is make me invulnerable to attack. I need for you to explore the full range of its powers.”
Ivy narrowed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists at her sides. “I tried, and it nearly killed me. It’s not worth my life to try again, unless you let my son go and take him exactly where I tell you.”
“I can make a difference,” he found himself saying. Telling the truth after so long a time of lies and misdirection. “I can stop the worst abuses that are being perpetrated by so many power-mad vampires out there now. I just need the chance to try. We were better off remaining in the shadows, afraid of discovery and retribution.”
“You can’t unspill the milk. You can’t make people forget vampires exist,” Ian said.
“And kidnapping my son? That’s not an abuse of power? Or do you believe that the ends justify the means, no matter how horrible, in which case I don’t see much difference between you and the ones you want to stop,” she said, getting right up in his face.
He lost part of what she said, caught in her golden-brown eyes, and was actually leaning down to kiss her when he caught himself.
“I will have my people take Ian wherever you want him to go, as soon as it turns full dark,” he said, stepping back. “If he gives me his word he won’t send the cavalry after us.”
“More like the army,” Ian muttered. “You hurt my mom, and I’m going to go all Call of Duty on your ass.”
Ivy’s lips quirked up as if she were fighting a smile. “Ian, don’t say ass, and don’t threaten the scary vampire,” she said, and then she blinked. “I just fell down the rabbit hole, didn’t I?”
Nicholas wondered if he were getting his first headache in a couple of hundred years. “What is a call of duty in this context, and what rabbit hole?”