Mistwalker (23 page)

His face remained determined. “First the oath. Repeat after me: I, Simone Woods, will not directly feed from any other being that does not have the ability to fade into mist. To do so would mean the destruction of everything and everyone. I sign this pact in my blood.”

In that instant, she saw in him the single mindedness of a vampire who would survive. She repeated the words and scratched her name on the paper.

He took the scroll from her, rolled it up. “Juliun is coming and will await you outside. Take this book.” He tapped the large tome on the desk. “It tells the story of the Great War, the species that remained, and the protocol you must follow as a mistwalker.”

He swept toward the door, but before he left, he cast her brief, humorous look. “The plate in your head is the reason Juliun’s glamour did not work on you, Simone. I’d hazard a guess that your mind cannot be manipulated at all, by anybody, no matter their power. It seems you were fated to be with us.”

She stared at his disappearing figure through the doorway, her mouth open. Reality returned, and she looked down at her wrist. No marks marred her skin at all. She sighed with relief and picked up the book, shifting the weight to her hip. Quickly, she drank the rest of the blood that had now cooled and studied the painting on the wall.

A knock sounded on the door. “Are you all right?” Juliun snuck his head around the corner, his brow furrowed, grey eyes piercing as they took in everything about her. “Grandfather’s finished?”

She nodded, and Juliun moved into the doorway. He’d changed into a black long-sleeved woollen shirt that moulded to his broad chest and shoulders. Her mouth dried at the sight of this dark haired vampire striding so intensely into the room, coming straight for her.

He peered at her intently. “You have something here.” He reached out and caressed the corner of her lip with his thumb, sweeping across the flesh, slightly entering her mouth to touch her teeth. He pulled back his hand, blood staining the tip of his thumb. He flicked out his tongue to taste, and his grey eyes fired into a fierce glow that l
it his entire face. “I imagine Grandfather frightened you.”

She trembled at the taste of Juliun’s skin. It was clean, musky and delicious. “No.” Then, “Well, he is a little overwhelming.”
No more than you.
“Did you have to sign the scroll, too?”

He frowned, and the atmosphere in the room darkened. “Grandfather trusted me at my oath. What happened in here?”

“I signed the oath.” She shifted the book and glanced at her wrist.
“In blood.”

Juliun caught at her arm. “Let me see.”

“I’m fine.” Defensively, she curled her arm back around the book. “Don’t, or I’m going to drop the book.”

He plucked the weight from her arms as though the book were a feather instead of being absolutely massive and placed it on the stand beside the library door. “Show me your arm.”

“I’ve licked it.”

“I believed he would wait for me,” he murmured and looked to where Radu exited.

“I understand why he couldn’t.”

Juliun lifted his hand, touching her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You are defensive of him. It is a scary tale to understand. But do not fear us.” He pushed wisps of her red hair behind her ear. “Try not to think of it. I have something I want to show you anyway, poppet.”

She stilled beneath his touch, thinking how much easier everything would be if she were back at home, but how could she blame Juliun? He had reasons for being with Lars that night—he’d tried to save a friend from dying. His glamour usually worked on everyone he met. Fate. Full circle.

“Did you find out anything new about my mum?”

His exotic face grew brooding. “I have informed our best investigators, but I have a hunch many minds have been wiped, as yours was. I should know more later on tonight.”

She pasted on an expression that she hoped held back the pain. “Do you think we’ll ever find the truth?”

“I will not stop until you do,” he said.

She couldn’t face what that meant right now. For some reason the notion of unconditional love made her want to cry. She couldn’t think of Juliun that way. “What did you want to show me?”

A half smile crossed his face, and his eyes glinted mockingly. “You have not seen the rest of Ravenkeep.”

“Why do I get the impression this will be to your benefit?” She narrowed her eyes on him in amusement, but turned back for the book. “Should I take that with me?”

“We will come back for it later.” He held out a large hand, palm up. “I will also give you some bottles of blood to take home.”

“Blackmail.”
She stepped closer to him and hesitantly lifted her hand, and then clasped his. His fingers closed over hers, firm and secure, engulfing her hand. Her heart thumped out an unnatural rhythm, skipping beats and fluttering.

He led her through a series of high arched stone corridors flanked with impressive portraits and shining suits of armour. Lavish chairs, sumptuous side tables and fake plants dominated the rooms, combined with the rich wood panelling and marble columns. A golden glow from chandeliers shone down upon magnificent statues and wooden cabinets laden with precious artefacts. If she had been alone, she would have liked to stay and browse through the castle at her leisure. They entered an alcove, and he pressed a series of numbers into a keypad in the wall. Wood panelling slid back, and steel doors swung open. The wind whistled and pushed through the door first, coming from a stone-flagged path that meandered from their feet to a lone building set on the green moor.

She laughed, thinking of the similarity to Vinnie’s little hideaway. Seemed all the men in her life kept secrets.

Juliun led the way along the path, and the cold wind whipped at her ponytail, pushing at her to retreat. The breeze held the scent of the sea and him. The outside of Ravenkeep definitely did not resemble the luxury inside. The grey stone walls were all gloomy and depressing.

“Why the mystery?” she asked. “Why not use the mist to take us there?”

At the door, he pressed in another series of numbers. “This is the clinic,” he said, waiting as the doors swung open. “The mystery is because I hope you will view it without prejudice. See it for how it really is.”

She looked at him uneasily. “Without…”

“Any taint of our first meeting.”

She frowned at his choice of words as they entered a large room, passed a receptionist’s desk, waiting room, hospital beds, and medical paraphernalia. “It’s huge.”

“These are the private rooms,” he said, taking her down the other side of the building. Each room had its own bathroom and a comfortable sitting room. “We have twenty-four hour medical surveillance.”

“How did Lars escape then?”

“He read the mind of the person watching him, then used compulsion on the vampire guards. He destroyed the cameras in his room. The thirst got to him which is why he could not control himself that night.”

Her footsteps slowed, and then she stopped. Juliun stood too close; the dark, spicy scent of him was filling up her lungs. “Why are you showing me all this?”

“I hope you will reconsider allowing Tammy to stay here for the short term. It is too dangerous to have her in your apartment. She could be moved from the hospital right now with Alec to take care of her.”

The walls of Simone’s future flew up with astonishing speed. He asked too much, or did he? Who was she to refuse anything for Tammy’s safety? “I can’t leave her somewhere strange.” Simone’s protest sounded feeble, cruel.

He backtracked stealthily down the main corridor. “My mother has offered to nurse your friend back to health. You are more than
welcome to stay. The clinic has automatic shutters, or you can stay in one of the spare rooms in the castle. There are many to choose from. My mother and aunt Madalina will look forward to your company.”

“Oh.” Simone shook her head as she followed him. “I can’t leave Tammy here. You don’t know her. She will freak out. Imagine her thinking I’ve left her at the home of the…the…” Simone stammered and looked up at his taut profile.

“The leader of the vampires who attacked her in the street,” he finished, grimly.

“Right.
She wouldn’t understand. It would be better for me to take her home and care for her myself.”

“Newly risen vampires have been known to attack their family. If she bites you, you will transfer the mist. She could turn her own family and all the people in your apartment building. We will not know if she can walk in daylight, it will depend on the power balance between her vampire and werewolf side.”

Simone frowned. “I will fade her and myself any time she tries. I can handle anything she comes up with.”

He chuckled and pushed open the doors that led to the emergency part of the clinic. “I do not doubt that. However, I am more concerned that you will not have the heart to hurt her to save yourself. There is every possibility you will let down your guard.”

“I haven’t that done since I was ten.”

He looked down at her with great interest and smiled. “That’s why
my grandfather likes you so much.”

Her eyebrows rose. She looked around at the hospital beds. The scent of disinfectant and starch filled the room. A vampire slept on the far side.
“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“Believe it.” Juliun gestured to the man lying so still on the bed. “This is Jeffrey Riva. He was bitten by his girlfriend, Alicia. He had no idea she was a vampire.”

“Are vampires allowed to turn anyone they like?”

Juliun shot her a hard look. “No. You must ask Council permission. It is rarely given.”

“And if you’re royalty, you are the Council.”

He caught her hand and smoothed his thumb over her skin. He kissed the back of her hand, quickly, and then replaced it by her side.
His grin was irresistible. “I know this is all strange for you. It does get easier. I have carte blanche with her situation as long as the pact is adhered to.”

“Is that what your mother meant by ‘certain conditions’ must be met? I can’t bite Tammy?”

He glanced away. “One of them.”

“I don’t understand how Lissanne didn’t get the mist when she was pregnant with you.” Simone shook her head and sighed.

“The Cel Batrin book will explain how this occurs, and it will also clarify many other things.”

“Like what?”

He gave her a brief, mysterious smile. “I would not want to ruin the surprise.”

Chapter
Twenty-Four

The scent of thick traffic fumes clouded the air, kicked up from the heavy rain, along with the smell of petrol, motor oil and dirt. The street had that wet road smell Carlo always associated with gloomy weather and hunting humans with Lorena.

He stopped and stared down at his tennis shoes. He’d always preferred comfort over style, unlike his bride, but he couldn’t think about Lorena now. He would never get her back; never hold her hand as they hunted the streets. Nor listen to her wild, free laughter; ringing through the air that so distinctly embodied everything about her.

Nothing could hold her. Not the night. Not right or wrong. Yet, somehow death had stolen her from him.

The weight in his heart made him sick. He frowned down the closest alleyway, at the people who scurried to escape the driving rain. Their quick footsteps echoed, and combined with the downpour, the symphony hurt his ears. It was life.

He couldn’t go home. Not yet. That made the pain too close, too unbearable. His throat burned from hunger, heart throbbed with a black poison. He’d gnawed the inside of his cheek, and the corner of his lips dribbled with blood. He wouldn’t have bothered with Master’s directive, but for the fact he’d end up as a shell in the pits. Carlo had only left headquarters and had a few hours before they would be on mission to get the mist. He must eat. Their task wouldn’t be easy with him on an empty stomach and the royal guards on notice.

The stink of humans was inescapable—sunlight and grease, bad
breath and bacteria-ridden sweat.
Only one way.
He trudged past piles of flattened boxes and puddles to the far dark corner of the alleyway. There, he waited under a ratty awning, hidden by night’s shadows. More footsteps and voices, that human music which sounded so garish and useless.
As useless as Lorena’s death?

He clenched his fist and looked down at his rain soaked hand. The pale skin, unlined and strong, looked to be from a man in his prime. Strangely, he shook from the cold.
Drenched in his blue jeans and sports jacket, a heavy thickness iced in his veins.

Tears dripped down his face, mixing with the rain. The stupidity of humans had brought this about. If only they could live longer and truly see the world.

Then came the familiar
click-clack click-clack
of a woman’s heels on wet stone. The scrape of her stockinged thighs as they rubbed together. The sound mimicked his heartbeat, his breaths. He looked up. Then he stepped forward. Otherwise, he’d stay here and die. Die fast or slow. What was the difference? Time? He possessed too much of that. The anger throbbed there, deep down in his belly, and slowly he brought it all the way to the surface.