Authors: Melissa Schroeder
“I have a feeling that Diana still does not know what she
is,” Malik answered.
There was a beat of silence. “So she has no idea that she is
a Carrier?”
He asked it so loud, a few people glanced at them. “Keep it
down, Saint. No, she does not know, and for that matter, Cordelia did not until
she married. Since Diana has said that she will never marry again, I don’t
think it is of much importance.”
“But, being a widow, she might be up for a good bit of fun.”
“I highly doubt that.” Malik tried to keep his temper under
control.
“You never know.”
Irritation crunched down his spine. He knew that Saint was
doing it just to get a rise out of him. It didn’t seem to matter. At the
moment, he wanted to do nothing more than punch the damned smile off his face.
He opened his mouth to talk, but something moved across his
senses. Something that smelled like blood, and a lot of it. It was wrong,
though, as if it were tainted.
“You smell that?” Saint asked. His voice was strained. Malik
understood. The wave of nausea did not surprise him.
“Outside.”
Saint nodded and followed. He felt the gaze of every Born
and Made in the room. He ignored it.
When they reached outside, the scent almost overwhelmed them
both.
“Bloody hell,” Saint muttered. “What is that?”
They walked down the street and into a darkened alley. Even
in the dim light, they could see the bodies lying on the ground, the figure
standing over them. They were men, not women, dead on the ground.
The vampire looked back over his shoulder at them. Blood
dripped from his fangs and down his chin.
“
Suprema
!”
It echoed down the alley. It was only a matter of time
before people detected them. He had never done it, never killed another Made,
but he knew without a doubt this was one gone wrong. He had slipped over the
edge and was trying to make his own vamps.
He pulled out the stake, but before he could act, Saint had
his out. The Made approached them, slowly at first, then he ran at full speed.
Saint stepped in front of Malik and without hesitation, Saint pulled his arm
back and stabbed the Made through the heart.
The only sound from the Made was gurgling as he fell to the
ground. He convulsed a few times, then went still.
“This is a bloody mess,” Saint said as he looked over the
three bodies.
“What was he doing?” Malik asked. “Could he have been
feeding and lost control?”
“Does it matter?” Saint’s voice sounded as weary as Malik
felt.
Malik nodded. “But, I guess we can figure that out. First,
we have to make it all disappear.”
*
*
*
*
Nico listened to the tale. He did not interrupt. When Malik
finished, he thought about the implications.
“Do you think he was confused?”
Malik shrugged. “It could be. Maybe his Maker did not keep
control of him or explain. If they are surviving now, it seems that whoever
planned this—”
“We know who it is. It’s Neal.”
“Well, if it is Neal, then he might be over his head.”
“And they are running around on their own trying to
survive,” Saint said with a nod. “That would make sense.”
“Do you think he was a pederast?” Malik asked.
“As in he didn’t understand what his body was telling him to
do?” Nico nodded. “It could be.”
They had some Mades and even Borns who preferred their own
sex. It wasn’t taboo in their world as it was in the human world, but for a
Made with no direction, if he were inclined that way…it would be confusing.
“He could have also been directed to do it.” He looked at
Malik who appeared older than he had ever seen his friend look. “It would be
impossible to tell his Maker no.”
“Thank you for cleaning it up,” Saint said.
Malik nodded. “I am not sure about Saint, but I am ready for
my bed.”
“Agreed. I think we will skip tomorrow night. I am just too
tired to deal with another trip to that damned hell.”
A few moments later, he was left alone to his thoughts. He
had left Cordelia in bed, sleeping like an innocent. She was, in so many ways.
He wanted to shield her from this, to make sure that nothing ever touched her.
He rose from his chair and walked to the window. He wished
it was just a few problems, just a few Mades in an attempt to take over their
world. That would be easy to deal with. This…this was something different.
Neal was planning something. Last time Neal planned
something, it left his family in mourning. He could not let the bastard win.
Not this time.
This time Nico would make sure he felt the last beat of
Neal’s heart as he died.
Nico watched the dancers at the ball and tried to ignore the
frustration pounding through him. It had been a month and they were no closer
to finding Neal.
“You mustn’t frown so much, Nico,” his father said.
“You sound like mother.” He knew he was being rude, but he
couldn’t stop himself.
“You look angry and frustrated.”
He tried to smile, but he knew it looked false. “I do not
look frustrated.”
"Yes you do. If there is one thing we know about that
bastard, it is that he is watching you. More than likely Neal is in this
ballroom, and he is taking delight in your behavior."
He rolled his shoulders and ordered himself to relax. His
father was right. Neal was a bastard, one of birth and of character. He had
befriended Nico in hopes of getting into the Alliance and making connections.
It did not happen. Not because he was a bastard by birth—there were enough of
them around the Alliance—but because with Neal, there had always been rumors
about him, about the fact that his birth father was insane. His sire had
disappeared years before and had never been heard from again. Of course, part
of it had to do with the fact he was Scottish by birth. Many of the lowlanders
and English did not trust the Borns from the north.
"You should be paying more attention to your bride. She
is conquering the
ton
with
ease."
He glanced around the room and found Cordelia. His father
was right. She fairly glowed with new confidence, and unfortunately, too much
of her showed in the dress she was wearing.
"What was Mother thinking when she ordered that dress
for her?"
"It is modest compared to some."
Yes, but her neck was exposed so...enticingly. The dress was
brilliant red with a little too much of her breasts on display. Still, she had
walked down the stairs earlier and he had forgotten how to speak. She looked
like a diamond of the first water. He could scent her blood from across the
floor, and it was driving him a bit batty. Every time he drew in a breath, the
urge to march across the room and drag her away almost overwhelmed him. It
would not do, especially since this was their first official ball as a married
couple. They were stuck there. He ground his teeth together trying to keep his
incisors in check.
The actions of the
ton
had not made it easy for him. From the moment they arrived, she had been
surrounded by both vampires and humans. The women had tried to gain her
attention—the same women who had ignored her only weeks earlier and had treated
her like an outcast. The men, well, there were one or two of them Nico would be
talking to.
Then his eye caught on Saint working his way through the
crowd. The fact that his cousin had not disappeared to the north to hide in his
castle told Nico their problems were very grave.
Then he realized Saint was going to ask Cordelia to dance.
"I guess I should see to my bride."
"Indeed," was all his father said as Nico strode
off to meet her.
He reached her before Saint did, and the knowing look his
cousin gave him told Nico he had been doing it on purpose.
"Hello, my dear," he said.
Cordelia smiled at him. It was a full grin that showed her
dimples. "Good evening."
Nico would never admit to the fact that she had his heart
skipping a beat or that his head spun a bit from her attention. For a few
moments, he did not say anything. Everything around them seemed to disappear,
and it was as if they were back home, alone. A hum of need wound through him,
flowing through his own blood. The one message that he heard from his inner
beast was to take. Take, conquer, ravish.
Saint cleared his throat, and Nico realized that the people
circled around his bride were staring. Cordelia blushed prettily because she
knew exactly what he had been thinking.
He pushed the thoughts of seduction aside, for now. He held
out his hand. "I would greatly appreciate a chance to dance with you this
evening."
The string across the bow signaled the start of the waltz.
"But of course." She looked at her circle.
"Please excuse me."
She put her hand on his arm, then jolted when she saw his
cousin. "Oh, Saint, I did not see you."
“I was just keeping an eye on you, Lady Cordelia."
"An eye?" Nico said.
"Yes, and if you know what is precious, you would make
sure to stay close."
It wasn't a threat or even a warning. It was more of an
advisory. Saint had a fantastic sense of intuition. Something bad was right
around the corner, and he wanted Nico to know. Nico glanced at Cordelia then at
Saint, who nodded imperceptibly to tell Nico he had felt something off about
Cordelia's safety.
He led her to the dance floor and drew her into the waltz.
"What on earth was that about?" she asked.
"Saint has...visions. He is worried about you."
She nodded. "We really did not need to come out
tonight. We could have stayed home."
It was his choice. He did not like putting her on display
for the
ton
or Neal Pearson. But he
knew without a doubt that they needed to be out and about. Even though, now, he
could not remember why it had been important.
Cordelia moved through the dance effortlessly. "No one
expects me to be that active. My family was known for their debauchery. Not
many of them, cousins included, are seen about in society."
"Mother thinks it is important."
"And I am sure it is best for the bad Born to see us.
You do not want to be seen as retreating."
He glanced at her as he worked his way around an old duke
and his young daughter.
"Retreating?"
"I do not know much, Nico, but you seem to be worried a
lot lately, and I’m thinking that possibly this has more to do with you. Also,
there have been meetings at our house. I know it is not this Alliance that I
hear talked about. That is much bigger and I have a feeling, ruled by more than
just a handful of Borns."
She was too smart for her own good.
“It is also good for your reputation.”
She rolled her eyes. “At the moment, I don’t care. I would
much rather be at home.”
The thought had his heart warming. Right now they were stuck
in London, searching for Neal under every rock. His cousin and his cohorts had
not found one lead on Neal, but they were all positive he was the man at the
center of everything. The death toll was rising, and now even the human
authorities were giving them problems.
“Do you think we will have to stay that long tonight?”
Cordelia asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“We need to stay at least until dinner.”
She sighed. “All right.”
They danced for several moments in contented silence before
she spoke again. “Do you have anything new on the investigation?”
“No, not really.”
It was true. Dead bodies had been littered over most of
London’s stews, but there was not one bit of evidence that Neal was still
alive. The bastard had outdone himself this time.
“If you would tell me a little more, I might be able to
help.”
“Absolutely not.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and he realized that he had
talked quite loudly.
“It isn’t safe for you to be involved.”
She did not like the answer but she said nothing else about
it. As the dance ended, the dinner bell rang, and he knew he had been granted a
reprieve. He knew she wanted to discuss the investigation, but he could not
allow that. The less she knew the better.
*
*
*
*
Two days later, Cordelia was summoned to Nico’s library in
the middle of the day. As she walked down the hallway, she wondered what her
husband would want from her. Nico had been the same passionate lover at night,
but he had been a bit distant during the day. No more daytime trysts in the
library or even in her room. The one thing she did find wonderful is that he
slept with her every night. She knew the ways of the world. Husbands and wives
in the upper classes rarely slept together. Nico barely spent time in his own
room now.
She reached the doors and found them open. When she stepped
into the room, she found her editor from the paper there, Mr. White.
"Cordelia, it seems that your employer was worried
about you." Nico's voice did not sound very welcoming.
"Oh, Mr. White, I am so very sorry that I forgot to
contact you."
The elderly gentleman smiled. Every time he looked at her
like that, it reminded her of Tibbens, the gardener her family had when she was
a youth. He used to sneak her sweets when her father wasn't looking.
"I see that congratulations are in order."
Mr. White didn't sound angry, but there was an edge of
concern in his tone. Nico was mad, that was for sure. She could feel the anger
rolling off him as she walked across the library to address Mr. White.
"Thank you so much. I do apologize. Everything happened
so fast that I did not have time to contact you."