and started guiding her
to the door. “We can’t go now,” she argued. “I have to finishing
interviewing the witnesses.” “A Kyn male did enter our territory shortly
before the body was discovered here,”
he told her. “One whose
talent affects the minds of mortals.” “Jamys Durand.” She gave him a
stricken look. “Burke sent Chris to pick him up at the station.”
Chapter Three
Lucan watched seven
different angles showing Jamys Durand standing outside the club. The wall of
security monitors in his office provided him with a clear view of every area
surrounding his unorthodox stronghold as well as every inch of the interior.
Behind the wall, recording devices soundlessly archived all of the images,
which were also monitored by two of Lucan’s guards three floors above him.
After seven hundred years
and countless confrontations with hostile Kyn, murderous Brethren and even a
few overly-ambitious mortals, Lucan had learned that there was no such thing
as being too prepared.
He expected no trouble
from Thierry Durand’s son, however. The last time he had seen the boy, he
had been hanging from a pair of meat hooks in a Brethren torture chamber.
Lucan remembered the blank indifference in the boy’s eyes when he had freed
him; a stark contrast to the raging madness of his tortured, mutilated sire.
“My lord,” Burke said
over the intercom. “Our guest has arrived. Should I have the men assemble in
the club or the formal reception rooms?”
“Neither, Herbert.” He
switched off the monitors. “I will meet him alone.”
“I will not remind you
that such a informal meeting is not according to established protocols, my
lord,” his human servant murmured, “as you said the next time I nagged you
about such things that you would carve out my liver with a dull spoon.”
“Your wisdom increases by
the hour.” Lucan rose, and then hesitated. Before he had become suzerain, he
had never bothered with being politic. No one had cared how politely he had
killed them. Now as a ruling lord, he had to consider almost every word
before it left his lips. “As he cannot or will not speak, doubtless young
Durand will wish to avoid situations that would require a great deal of
talk. I imagine that the men could be discreetly advised of this.”
“I will see to it
personally, my lord,” his
tresora
assured
him.
Lucan pulled on a pair of
gloves before he walked out of the office and into the empty club.
Samantha’s young
tresora
in
training, Chris, entered with Jamys at her side. As they came in, the faint
scent of sandalwood colored the air.
Chris gave him one of her
cheeky grins before she remembered to bow. “Suzerain Lucan,” she said, “May
I present Lord Jamys Durand?”
“Welcome to South
Florida.” Lucan deliberately offered his gloved right hand, which the boy
took without hesitation. “I trust your trip was without incident?”
Jamys inclined his head
as he returned Lucan’s polite grip. He then rested his left hand on the
young mortal’s shoulder.
“He says it was fine, and
he slept most of the way,” Chris said. “He’s also grateful for your
hospitality, hopes not to be any trouble, etc. etc.”
Lucan glanced at the
girl. “Indeed.”
“It’s the same boring
stuff they always say,” she told him. “Why can’t you guys just settle for
‘Hi, how are you?’”
“Seven centuries of
inviolate tradition and custom cannot be distilled down into four words.” He
smiled a little. “There should be at least five, perhaps six.”
Jamys shifted his hand on
Chris’s shoulder and studied her face.
“I keep telling you, I’m
fine.” She turned to Lucan. “He thinks if he uses me as a psychic
interpreter for too long that I’m going to pass out. I never . . .” She
swallowed and swayed. “Okay, maybe that’s a good call.”
Jamys guided her over to
a chair and helped her to sit down before he took out a notepad and pen,
wrote something on it and handed it to Lucan.
I am
sorry. My talent does this to mortals. I cannot speak through them for very
long.
“You cannot communicate
through talent with Kyn?” When Jamys nodded, Lucan thought for a moment.
“Other than a few inappropriate gestures, none of us know sign language.”
“I think I can make
myself understood,” a cool voice said from behind Jamys.
Lucan regarded his
sygkenis
, who had
her hand resting on the grip of her weapon. She appeared ready to employ it.
“Samantha. I expected you an hour ago. This overtime is becoming an
annoyance.”
She ignored him as she
moved between Jamys and Chris. “Are you all right?” she asked the girl.
“I’m fine.” Chris stood.
“You look pissed off, though.”
“We just recovered a body
three blocks from here. Young guy in an old leisure suit. Some Kyn we don’t
know was involved. And guess what, there’s only one Kyn we don’t know in our
territory right now.” Sam shifted around until she blocked Lucan with her
body. “Rafael?”
Lucan saw his seneschal,
armed with a copper-edged sword, step up behind Jamys. His temper flared,
causing several bottles of liquor behind the bar to shatter and spill “Have
I perhaps been replaced as ruling lord and everyone has forgotten to tell
me?”
Rafael breathed in and
then lowered the blade. “His scent is not what the mortal described to us,
my lady.”
Sam didn’t move. “Maybe
he did some suggestion-planting before he left the bistro. Chris, get away
from him,” she added as the girl went to Jamys.
“He can’t talk unless I
help him.” She gripped his hand and looked up at his face. “No, it’s okay. I
can do it.” She turned to Samantha, and her eyes took on a curiously bright
sheen as her voice dropped to a deeper register. “I have not harmed anyone,
my lady. I was with Christian from the time I left the train to when I
arrived here. I would not insult the suzerain by attacking anyone in his
territory.” She blinked, and in a more normal voice said, “He’s telling the
truth, Sam. I was with him the whole time.”
“That’s only what you
remember.” She flinched as Lucan took the weapon from her holster. “What are
you doing?”
“Hopefully I am avoiding
a grievous insult to the Durand family, and the son of the most efficient
killer I know besides myself.” Lucan pocketed the weapon. “Now, shall we
sort this out like civilized folk?”
“I have a backup piece,”
she reminded him before she stared at Jamys. “You should know that I keep my
weapons loaded with copper rounds. I don’t care who your Daddy is, you try
anything – anything at all – and I’ll blow your head off.”
The young Kyn male, who
had not moved since the beginning of the confrontation, nodded slowly.
Despite the danger she
had just put them all in, Lucan felt almost proud of her. His woman might
not be the soul of diplomacy, but she would kill to protect what was theirs,
and damn the consequences. Not even Cyprien could boast of such a life
companion. “Now that you have finished with the death threats, sweetheart,
come and sit down and tell me about this killing.”
In terse fashion,
Samantha related the tale of the body she and his seneschal had found in a
nearby restaurant, and the statements made by the witnesses.
“Kyn do not feed on the
dead.,” he pointed out. “Nor do they drag them about Europe for three
decades.”
“Two years ago I chopped
the tail off a Kyn who had spent a couple of centuries feeding on snake
blood.” Samantha eyed him. “Maybe this one uses the dead for dinner.”
“How may I explain this
to you?” Lucan thought for a moment. “When you were mortal, would you have
eaten a maggot-ridden piece of rotting meat? No? That is what feeding on the
blood of the dead is like for us.”
Jamys took out his
notepad and pen and wrote something quickly. He handed it to Rafael, who
read it and shook his head.
Samantha frowned. “Mind
sharing that with the rest of group?”
“He writes that the
victim may have been taken from his grave to be used by a Kyn lord,” Rafael
said. “It is nothing but an old superstition among our kind.”
“You think the boy we
found was raised from the dead?” When Jamys shrugged, Samantha turned to
Lucan. “Just when were you going to mention that you guys can make zombies?”
“Never, as we cannot. We
have our own ridiculous folk lore, my darling, just as humans do.” Lucan
felt impatient now. “There has to be another explanation. I have roamed
every continent not covered by ice on this earth, and never once have I seen
a mortal brought back to life as a revenant.”
“Have you?” she asked
Jamys, who reluctantly shook his head. “Good, because I’m not putting zombie
on my report.”
“He didn’t hurt anyone,”
Chris said, her tone sharp. “Burke tested me before I signed on for this
gig. You know I’m resistant to
l’attrait.
”
“But not to talent.”
Samantha stood and addressed Jamys. “I know you’re here as a guest, and I’m
sorry you can’t talk. I know I’ve probably embarrassed the hell out of Lucan
by questioning you. But my job is to find out who killed this boy. If it was
you, or you were in any way involved, you and I are going to have a serious
problem.”
Jamys took out two copper
daggers and placed them on the table before he rose, bowed, and walked out
of the club.
“What does that mean?”
she asked Lucan.
“He is not insulted.” He
picked up the blades. “He disarmed.” He looked at his
sygkenis
. “It
means he agrees with what you’ve said.”
“Then why did he leave?”
“That you will have to
ask him,” he advised her. “If he returns.”
#
After sending Chris home,
Sam went up alone to the penthouse suite she shared with Lucan. The smell
from Wilson Carcher’s body still clung to her; she needed a shower and a
fresh change of clothes. After that she planned to head down to the morgue
to see what Tenderson had found during the autopsy, and what she would
probably have to compel him to forget. If she were quick, she might even
avoid the reckless idiot she loved.
She didn’t make it out of
the shower.
“As erotic as I find your
working garments,” a silky voice said as a large shadow appeared on the
other side of the frosted glass door, “I prefer to sleep with you in your
skin.”
She shut off the water.
“I have to go back into work for a couple hours,” she told him as she wrung
out the long, dripping tail of her hair. I’ll be sure to strip when I come
home.” She watched as a thin crack ran diagonally from the top of the shower
door to the bottom. “Or not.”
“You,” he said
pleasantly, “are not leaving. Come out of there.”
Sam emerged to find her
lover standing and holding a large black bath towel. The delicious scent of
jasmine curled around her, which dispelled most of her remnant anger. “I
suppose you want me to apologize.”
“Not at all.” He began
drying her off as impersonally as a valet. “I’ve been despised among the Kyn
for several lifetimes. Another century or two of hostility will not make
much difference.” He draped the towel over her head and began to massage it
against her damp hair. “And I am sure the men will understand why my lady is
acting in my place when it comes to territorial matters. Perhaps you can
persuade them to name you suzeraina, as they did with Jayr of the Realm.”
“Okay, I get it. I was
out of line.” She glanced up at his beautiful face, but his expression
remained impassive. “Go ahead, yell.”
“Why would I shout at my
life companion, the woman I love above all others, whose love for and
loyalty to me is as constant and unwavering as the sunrise?” His eyes
glittered. “When she is not threatening to blow the head off the beloved,
only son of a Kyn lord who single-handedly slew five hundred mortals, of
course.”
She swallowed. “That
many?”
“That many.” He kissed
her brow. “On one of his bad days.”
“I’ll go after the kid
and explain and apologize.” Sam reached for her clothes.
“Rafael is already
tracking him, and I think you have said enough for one evening.” He swept
her up in his arms and carried her out into their bedroom, where he sat down
in his favorite oversize armchair with her. “Be still,” he told her when she
tried to get up. “I am still deciding whether or not to beat you.”
Sam hid a smile. Lucan
might be one of the most powerful Kyn in existence, with a talent that could
cause a living being to literally explode, but he’d never hurt her. “Let me
suggest some reasonable alternatives. You could give me a time out. Make me
stand in the corner. Or have me write ‘I will obey my lord and master
without question’ a couple hundred times.”
“You are not a child,
Samantha.” He looked down his nose at her. “Although I confess, the thought
of giving you a good, hard spanking appeals to me.”
She angled her head to
put her mouth a breath away from his. “Is that really the only good, hard
thing you want to give me?”