Compelled (Vampires in America #10.5) (4 page)

“Like hundreds of years ancient or . . . ?” Her question trailed off leadingly.

“Thousands,” Raphael said simply.

“That’s impossible,” she said immediately. “I can buy vampires being hundreds of years old and still walking around looking good—”

“Thank you,” he muttered.

“—but thousands of years? I’m not sure I can buy that.”

He shrugged again. “The truth is not dependent on belief, yours or anyone else’s. I will agree,” he hurried to add, when she surrendered to impulse and elbowed him in the gut, “that Katsaros’s situation is unique. Sorcerers of his age aren’t exactly littering the earth, but that doesn’t change the facts. He is ancient. Precisely how ancient, I don’t know.”

“Huh.” She thought about it a minute, then frowned, realizing what he’d done. Or at least tried to do. “But you’re not going to distract me with that,” she assured him. “I want to know why vampires hate sorcerers, and vice versa. Because it’s obvious that Nick doesn’t like you any more than you like him.”

She could feel the weight of Raphael’s stare when he turned and gave her a long look. He was probably wondering why he couldn’t have fallen in love with a stupid woman, or at least someone more pliant. She smiled sweetly back at him, and he choked back a laugh. He did love her, even though sometimes he might wish he didn’t.

“The hatred goes back centuries. Again, long before I was born. This much I know to be true, because my Sire was there and she told me about it. Vampires have always outnumbered sorcerers, because sorcerers are born, not created. And they’re fairly rare. No one knows why one child will be a sorcerer, but his siblings won’t. Or why a sorcerer parent is no more likely to produce a sorcerer child than anyone else.

“Vampires, on the other hand, are made creatures. Our numbers depend only on the whim of our Sires. As recently as five hundred years ago, powerful vampires were siring armies of offspring to defend themselves against attacks from both humans and other vampires. Which meant that for every sorcerer, there were at least a few hundred vampires.

“This imbalance made sorcerers uneasy. Even though only a very few vampires were powerful enough to rival them, more were being made every year, while sorcerers seemed to be dying off. Some hypothesized that the earth was losing its magic and could no longer sustain even the few sorcerers being born. I don’t know about that, but I do know that the sorcerers decided vampires were the problem, that we were soaking up all of the magical energy, and that’s why sorcerers were dying.

“In their wisdom,” he said, his tone making it clear that he didn’t think wisdom had any part in what happened, “they crafted a plan of wholesale slaughter, seeking out the daytime resting places of vampires and killing them while they were helpless. The idea and necessity for vampires to have a daytime guard force was born during this time. At first, the sorcerers simply killed the human guards in order to get to the vampires. But those guards had family and friends, some even had human lords to whom they were sworn, and their deaths did not go unnoticed. At the same time, the vampires started fighting back, and the sorcerers learned a difficult lesson . . . they were no longer the only power on earth. Most of them didn’t even approach Katsaros’s level of ability, and they suddenly found themselves as helpless as the vampires they’d so eagerly slaughtered.”

“So what happened?” Cyn prodded, when he lapsed into thoughtful silence.

“A truce of sorts. There was nothing formal, it was more understood. Vampires and sorcerers simply stopped killing each other.”

“Just like that?”

“I’m sure it was weeks or months before it ended completely.”

She frowned. “You said sorcerers were dying off. How many are there now? And why haven’t I heard of them before this?”

“I don’t believe anyone’s taken a formal count, but I would guess there are fewer than a hundred of them left in the world, and no more than one or two of those are as powerful as Katsaros.”

“I wonder how old he really is,” she murmured, privately wondering about herself and really old guys. Raphael was flirting with five hundred years, and now it turned out that Nick was even older. Sheesh. She caught the flash of Raphael’s smile and knew he was following her train of thought.

“His past is a bit murky, which makes it difficult to know. Maybe he’ll tell you his full story now that you know the truth of him.”

“Maybe,” she said doubtfully. It seemed to her that if Nick had wanted her to know his history, he would have told her what he was in the first place. He’d never even hinted at being anything but an ordinary human.

She glanced up as the lights of the Kansas City airport came into view. Juro skirted the main terminals in favor of the general aviation service area. A lot of the private aircraft flying into Kansas City favored the smaller and more centrally located downtown airport, but their runways couldn’t accommodate a Boeing 707. On the other hand, private hangar space at the international airport was at a premium. Fortunately, Lucas knew a guy who knew a guy, and one of the regular maintenance hangars had been made available. True, the hangar was currently being renovated and so it wasn’t exactly luxe, but then, all Raphael and his people needed was a private space that could be secured against intruders.

The hangar was completely lit up when they arrived. Anyone watching would assume the 707 was simply in for service. But as soon as the three SUVs crossed the threshold and were parked next to the jet, the big doors were closed and locked. Cyn was accustomed to the routine and so she waited patiently while the security personnel in the other two SUVs piled out and verified the safety of the hangar, before giving Juro the go-ahead via the wireless comm they all wore.

One of the security vamps approached the SUV, but Raphael beat him to the punch, opening the door and stepping outside before holding out a hand to Cyn. She was accustomed to this, too. Most of her life, she’d resisted the idea that she needed a man to open her car door or help her disembark—unless she was wearing a skirt and heels, that was. In those cases, men were very handy to have around. But she’d learned during her time with Raphael that it was one of the ways he cared for her. And so she took his proffered hand with a smile, laughing when he used the connection to tug her closer, wrap an arm around her back, and pull her in for a quick kiss.

This was an entirely different Raphael than the one who’d been sitting in that other hangar, meeting with Nick. That Raphael had been all coiled tension and . . . well, hatred wasn’t too strong a word. Regardless of the circumstances of his meeting with Nick, the instincts that had kept Raphael alive for so long had held him on edge, waiting for the attack he knew was coming.

But now he was back among his own people, and there was work to be done. His responsibilities didn’t stop just because he wasn’t in Malibu. The 707 was like a flying office, and he had both corporate and vampire business to attend to.

“I have a conference call in ten minutes,” he said, his fingers running lightly up and down her spine as he guided her over to the aircraft stairs.

“Good timing,” she said, puzzled at the precision of the call’s scheduling.

“Good logistics,” he corrected. “My people set it up as soon as we left Lawrence.”

Cyn nodded. She should have known.

“What will you be doing?” he asked, once they’d climbed the stairs and were inside the luxuriously appointed aircraft.

“Research,” she said simply. “I trust Nick—” Raphael scoffed loudly, and she continued. “—as far as his own interests go,” she finished, giving him a so there look. “But when it comes to anything that puts you or me in danger, I don’t trust anyone but myself and my own sources. I’ll start with the basics. I’m sure he’s right about the four guards, and we already know it had to be one of them who took the manacles. Everything after that, I’ll check for myself.”

He kissed her again. “I knew there was a reason I picked you as my mate.”

“You didn’t pick me, fang boy. I picked you, and it was purely physical.”

He gave her the smug grin of a man who knew exactly what he was worth.

Cyn patted him on his solid chest and then left him to his master-of-the-universe affairs, heading to their personal quarters at the rear of the plane. Ten minutes later, she had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, and was sitting barefooted and cross-legged on the bed with her laptop in front of her. She settled in for a long night of what she did best . . . research. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t exactly what she did best—she was happier in the field with a gun in her hand—but that didn’t meant she wasn’t damn good at it. Before the sun rose, she’d know more than Nick did about their missing guard . . . and maybe even a bit more about Nick himself than she’d ever thought to look for.

Chapter Three

ONE O’CLOCK CAME way too early. Actually, her alarm had been set for eleven o’clock, because she’d needed to get showered and dressed and then drive all the way to Lawrence where she was meeting Nick. As it was, she cut it too close. When she pulled up in front of the locked hangar where the Lear was secured, Nick was already waiting, leaning against a shiny red Ferrari, ankles crossed, looking for all the world like a man with time to spare and nowhere to go. Nick had always had that air about him, a carefree attitude that made it look like he hadn’t a worry in the world. She’d bought into it then, but now she knew better.

“A Ferrari?” she said skeptically as she stepped down from the big SUV and closed the door.

“If you’re going to drive, you might as well drive the best,” he answered cheerfully.

“Uh huh. I think we’ll take my vehicle this afternoon.”

Nick looked so aghast that she laughed. “The Ferrari doesn’t exactly say young couple on a cross-country road trip. I think Mrs. . . . what’s her name anyway?”

“Anna Briley. Her son is Gary, Jr.”

“Is Gary Sr. still alive?”

“He is indeed. He’s an attorney with a large firm in Kansas City, very highly regarded. However, with any luck, we won’t be meeting him.”

“Well, I think Anna will be more likely to talk to us if we show up in an SUV instead of a Ferrari. But at least you’re dressed for the part.” She gestured at his low-slung jeans and black leather jacket over a dark blue T-shirt. She could admit to herself that he looked good. But then, Nick had always looked good. She had excellent taste in men, after all.

“We could be a wealthy young couple. Maybe I married you for your money,” he persisted, still pushing for the Ferrari. “Besides, I’m not comfortable leaving my car out here.”

“I’ll have one of the guards move it inside the hangar.”

Nick scoffed loudly. “If you insist on taking that truck, I’ll move my own car.”

It was Cyn’s turn to scoff. “In your dreams. You’re not getting inside that hangar, and you know it.”

He laughed. “It was worth a try. Where are you coming from anyway? I thought for sure the vampire would chain you to his bed during the day.”

Cyn rolled her eyes, not bothering bother to address that last comment. “Getting up this early makes me hungry. I grabbed some lunch.”

“The bloodsucker doesn’t let you eat?”

“Nick,” she said impatiently. “What’s your problem with Raphael?”

“He has you.”

“Bullshit. You and I were never more than friends, and you know it.”

“We were a little more than friends, darling.”

“So we fucked when you came to town, but that’s all I was to you. A fuck buddy for when you visited LA.”

“You make it sound so tawdry,” he drawled, then sighed at her stubborn expression. “Maybe I think you deserve better than a bloodsucking creature of the night.”

“Fine. If you’re not going to be serious about this, let’s just go. You can brief me on the way.” She started to open the driver’s side door on the Escalade, but he stopped her.

“I’ll agree to the truck, but I’m driving.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m the man, darling.”

She blew out a dismissive breath. “Neanderthal.”

“It’s our honeymoon. I’ll let you drive when we’re old and gray.”

“In your dreams.”

THE BRILEY RESIDENCE was a few miles out of the city, a big, gray stone house surrounded by a large wooded lot, with a long, gravel driveway leading off the main road. Cyn glimpsed an enclosed sun porch on the back of the house, overlooking the woods and what was probably a natural water source—a pond or small lake. She figured they probably needed the enclosed porch to keep the mosquitoes from eating them alive during the summer. Or whatever.

“Do they have mosquitoes in Kansas?” she asked Nick idly.

“How the hell would I know?”

She laughed. “Wasn’t that covered in sorcerer school? You know, bugs of the world or something?”

“Sorcerer school? Are you probing, babe?”

“You can’t blame me for being curious, babe. How many years did I know you, and not once did you mention the whole ancient sorcerer thing.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t really relevant. Did your vampire tell you his life’s history?”

“In fact, he did.” She didn’t mention that it took months for Raphael to get around to it, and that it was after he nearly tore them apart.

“Bully for him.” He pulled up in front of the Briley home and jammed the gearshift into park. “For this afternoon, you’re mine. Don’t forget it.”

“Don’t worry about me. I may not be a professional liar like some people, but I can hold my own.”

“When did I ever lie to you?” he demanded.

“Oh, did you think I meant you?” she asked innocently.

“Very funny. Come on, wife. Try to pretend like you love me.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I do love you, Nick. I just wish I knew you better.”

He stared at her hand on his arm, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. For a brief moment, she saw a terrible sadness in his whiskey-colored eyes, and then he grinned and it was gone. “I don’t think the dark and broody one would approve, darling.”

She shook her head lightly. There was clearly a lot more to Nick than she’d ever known. But now wasn’t the time for a heart-to-heart between old lovers. They had a job to do.

“Let’s do this,” she said. “What do I call you?”

“Baby, darling, honey.”

“Nick, I’m serious.”

“Me, too,” he insisted then grinned. “Nick will do. There’s no reason not to use our real names. Nick and Cindy Clark.”

“Why do I have to be Cindy? I hate that.”

“Because Cyn is too unique. And it’s only for an hour or so.”

“The things I do . . .”

He laughed. “Yeah, this is a real sacrifice. Come on.”

He met her in front of the Escalade and took her hand, squeezing slightly. Cyn felt . . . odd, holding another man’s hand, especially a man who’d once been her lover. But even she couldn’t object to the gesture. A real married couple would hold hands, especially a young couple on a trip they’d probably planned for a while. Maybe even a delayed honeymoon. Yeah, you’re probably overthinking this one, Cyn. She smiled slightly at the thought.

Nick led her up the short walk to a tall set of wooden doors with cut-glass inserts. She could hear the doorbell as it sounded inside, and then footsteps before a woman’s voice called, “I’m coming.”

Cyn shook her head at the woman’s response. Before she’d shacked up with Raphael, she’d barely answered her front door, and then only after verifying the visitor’s identity on her security video. If she didn’t know the person, she didn’t bother answering. And she sure as hell never announced her presence to strangers.

The door opened to reveal a pleasant-looking woman of sixty or so, wearing dark slacks and an Oxford-style buttoned shirt in white with faint pink stripes. Her dark hair was neatly cut and highlighted with gray in a way that Cyn knew came from a good stylist. She gave them a friendly, if somewhat puzzled, smile.

“Hi,” Nick said, pulling out some of the charm he’d always had in abundance. It was why she’d assumed he was a salesman. “Mrs. Briley?” The woman nodded and he continued. “I’m Nick Clark, and this is my wife Cindy. I served with Gary a couple of years back.”

“You were in Afghanistan?”

Nick nodded. “And before that in San Diego. We met in boot camp.”

Her smile widened. “Gary Junior hated boot camp.”

He grinned. “We all did, but it kept us alive later on.”

Anna shook her head. “A terrible thing. I worried so much when he was over there.”

“That’s what my mom tells me, too,” Nick agreed. “But we made it. Which is why we’re here. I told Gary before we got out that Cindy and I were going to take this trip, and he said to stop by. So here we are.”

“Oh, dear. I’m afraid you’ve missed him, but . . . well, where are my manners? Come in, won’t you?” she said, stepping back and inviting them inside. “Would you like some coffee? A cold drink?”

Nick kept hold of Cyn’s hand as he moved into the house, following Anna to a seating area next to a big, open-concept kitchen. Cyn glanced around curiously. The house was nicely furnished, albeit not to her taste. The floor was tiled in multiple hues of brown and beige, and there was a lot of wood everywhere. Wood cabinets, wood paneling, wood mantel on the fireplace. Between the wood and the tiles, there was an awful lot of brown. But she supposed some people would find it homey and welcoming. Those same people would probably think her own décor was cold and uninviting, she thought with a slight smile. To each her own.

“Coffee?” Anna repeated, heading into the kitchen.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Cyn said, speaking for the first time. “We got an early start this morning, and the coffee in the room was pretty awful.”

“Oh my, yes,” Anna agreed. “We always bring a thermos of our own if we can. Cream and sugar?”

“For me,” Cyn said. “Nicky takes it black. Thank you.”

Nicky gave her a dark look. He liked a lot of sugar in his coffee, and she knew it. She smiled.

Bitch, he mouthed silently, making her swallow a laugh.

“Will Gary be back soon?” Nick asked, settling onto the sofa and pulling Cyn down next to him. “We could grab a bite somewhere and come back later.”

“I’m afraid not,” Anna said, sounded truly apologetic. “He took off a couple of days ago for a job interview. Arizona, I think.”

“Darn,” Nick swore softly. Cyn rolled her eyes at the PG swear word. “But we’re heading that way, so maybe we can meet up. Do you have a cell number for him?”

“I don’t,” Anna said with what sounded like real dismay as she set a tray in front of them, bearing the two cups of coffee, along with cream and sugar. “He said something about roaming charges and getting a new cell phone once he got there. But I haven’t heard from him yet. I can let him know you stopped by next time he calls, though,” she added brightly. “I’ll give him your number.”

“That would be great,” Nick said, as Cyn disengaged her hand and stood.

“Could I use your bathroom, Mrs. Briley? We’ve been on the road for hours.”

“Of course, and do call me Anna. It’s just down the hall there, past the office. The towels are fresh.”

Cyn smiled. “Thank you,” she said and started off toward it, while Nick kept Anna busy answering questions about her many grandchildren.

She found the bathroom easily enough and made a lot of noise closing the door, albeit from outside in the hallway. Her real goal had nothing to do with the bathroom and everything to do with the office so handily located next door. As far as Cyn could tell, there was no one in the house except Anna, and she trusted Nick to keep her busy.

Stepping into the office, she swept a cursory glance over the desk and credenza, muttering a soft “yes” when she saw a cordless phone sitting on its charger on a bookshelf. With a quick glance back in the direction of the kitchen, she stepped over to the phone and hit the menu button, seeing that the directory and call log were both full of numbers. She’d hoped to find a cell phone, but this was actually better—no password necessary. She slipped the phone into her purse. They wouldn’t be able to go too far from the house, probably not even to the end of that long driveway, but that should give her plenty of time to copy the call log, and check the directory for Gary Jr.’s cell number.

Leaving the charger base empty and being careful not to move it from its original location, she tiptoed back down the hall, opened the bathroom door quietly, closed it again, then flushed the toilet and washed her hands, drying them on one of Anna’s clean guest towels.

Nick looked up when she walked back into the room, and she gave him a wink. He raised one eyebrow then stood to meet her.

“We should get going, darling,” he told her. “I want to make Colorado tonight.”

Cyn nodded, then walked over to Anna Briley and shook her hand. “Thank you for inviting us into your lovely home, Anna, and for the coffee, too.”

“Well, of course, dear. I’m only sorry you missed Junior.”

“Did you give Anna our number, Nick?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Sure did. I’m thinking we’ll hook up with Gary in Arizona.”

Cyn turned back to Anna. “Thank you again. I hope we didn’t intrude.”

“Not at all. You have a safe trip now.”

“WELL, THAT WASN’T very useful,” Nick grumbled, as he turned the key in the ignition. “Maybe we should turn your fucking vampire loose on old Anna, after all.”

“No need,” Cyn said absently, pulling the phone from her purse. “I don’t know the range on this thing, so take your time.”

Nick barked a surprised laugh. “Look at you, little Miss Petty Thief,” he said, while taking way too much time to turn the Escalade around and get it heading slowly back down the driveway. While he did that, Cyn scrolled through the directory, looking for Gary Junior’s number. They already knew he’d been living with his parents since returning from Hawaii, so she assumed any number she found would be his cell. She wasn’t surprised, however, to discover the number listed straightforwardly as “Junior’s Cell.” Everything about Anna Briley had said neat and organized. She wouldn’t take half-measures with something like a phone ID.