Authors: Amy Miles
Chapter 19
Fane squints, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight filtering through a wide bay window.
The lofty ceilings overhead are trimmed with thick ornate molding.
A large chandelier drapes from the center with crystal teardrops dangling from the outer rim.
Obnoxious golden wallpaper leads back down to a plush white carpet.
Nothing is familiar.
The scent is…off.
His head rolls to the side.
Roseline hovers nearby, chewing on her lower lip.
Her face is a mass of healing bruises.
Her fingers twirl anxiously through her hair.
Pain, like a swift kick to the groin, smacks into him.
Why is she here?
Did she come for him?
No
, his mind screams.
Despair threatens to drown him as he remembers Roseline made her choice.
She chose the kid.
Is he still alive?
Did she bite him?
Did he survive the transformation?
At the sound of his groan, Roseline leaps to his side.
“Hey,” she smiles, resting her hand against his chest.
Her touch feels amazing, but his pleasure quickly turns bitter in his stomach.
He no longer has any claim on her.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m alive.
I guess I have you to thank for that.”
His arms tremble as he rises.
She helps swing his legs over the side of the couch before reaching for a small shot glass of blood that stands on a glass coffee table nearby.
“Drink this.
It’s a bit rough since it’s been sitting out for a while but it should speed up the healing.”
He tips the glass back, wincing as the coagulated blood oozes in one lump down his throat.
Fire slips down his gullet and spreads into his veins like a soothing salve to his beaten body.
“I wasn’t the one that saved you.
That was Nicolae, actually.”
Her chin juts toward the boy sitting in an armchair near the unlit fireplace.
Fane’s lips peel back as he growls.
“You brought the hunter
here
?”
“Yes,” she replies firmly, pressing him back into the seat. He glares up at her, annoyed at how easily she overpowers him.
“He is helping me.”
“Oh, sure,” he scoffs, tossing his hands in the air, “let’s bring a hunter along to the party.
Brilliant plan, Roseline.”
“Hey, I saved your bloody life!”
Nicolae leaps to his feet.
“What’s with the accent change?” Fane asks.
Nicolae crosses his arms over his chest.
Roseline looks at him expectantly.
“I trained with Sorin in London for a year.
Happy?”
“Well that explains a lot,” Roseline smiles.
She stands to place the empty glass on a writing desk.
“I don’t care how the kid speaks,” Fane growls, shoving his finger in Nicolae’s direction, “he shouldn’t be here.”
“You’re the one that entrusted Gabriel and Roseline to me, back in the dungeon, remember?”
Nicolae retorts, glaring back.
Fane rolls his eyes.
“You think I did that for the kid?
Roseline was dying.
I had to save her.”
He turns his head and spits a glob of blood and splintered teeth onto the carpet.
“I thought you would kill the kid yourself, but it looks like you didn’t have the guts after all.”
Nicolae’s eyes darken as his fingers clench into fists.
He closes the gap between them.
Fane leaps forward, wavering slight as he challenges him.
“Enough!” Roseline shouts shoving her way between them, “this isn’t helping anyone.
Nicolae is here to help me, Fane.
Deal with it.”
Neither one make a move.
“Fine,” she growls.
“You forced me.”
Her hands shoot out, slamming each in the chest.
Nicolae flies across the room, crashing into the plaster wall.
A wide-framed mirror rattles precariously on the wall above his head.
Fane sails back, tumbling over the couch.
The carpet cushions his fall, but his back slams into the walnut reading table.
The small shot glass falls on its side, trailing blood along the wood.
The wound in Fane’s side throbs in protest.
“What the heck, Roseline?”
“Let’s get one thing straight, right now.”
Roseline pauses to glare at each of them in turn.
Fane rises slowly from the floor.
Nicolae doubles over against the wall, wheezing.
“We are not enemies anymore.
Nicolae and I have a truce and you
will
respect it, Fane.”
His jaw clenches.
Since when did she start giving him orders?
“He is a hunter.
You can’t trust him.”
Her glare cuts him to the quick.
“I am in charge of this mission.
If you don’t like that,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “there’s the door.”
“What mission?” he asks.
Nicolae clutches his chest as he straightens.
Roseline sighs, moving to his side to ease him into a chair.
“Sorry about that.”
Fane hears her whisper in his ear.
Nicolae nods tightly.
“What is going on?” Fane erupts, storming across the room to yank Roseline to her feet.
“Why have you made a truce with this…filth?”
His lip curls with disgust.
“He is not filth,” she snaps back, tossing her hair from her face, “he’s my friend.”
Nicolae sucks in a breath.
Roseline glances over her shoulder, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, don’t make a big deal out of it.”
He raises his hands in defense, but does a poor job of hiding his grin.
When Roseline swivels to look at her friend, Fane’s throat constricts.
Her pain lies just under the surface, barely held in check.
Her quivering lower lip betrays her.
“Gabriel was taken.”
His grip softens on her arm as she pulls way, but her pain lingers, sharp and piercing, in his chest.
Fane backs up to the couch and plops down.
He sighs heavily.
Of course, this is about the kid.
He is all Roseline thinks about now.
Resentment poisons his words.
“So you and Hero Boy over there are looking for him?”
Roseline nods.
A thin line of moisture pools along her lower eyelid.
Her downturned gaze tugs at his anger.
Fane growls, dropping his head in his hands.
Why does she torment him so?
He fights to cling to the few shreds of dignity that remain.
To protect him from the pain that will arise when she finds her precious love.
Can he really help her knowing that it will destroy him all over again?
Yes.
He has no choice.
His love for her demands that he help her, no matter the cost to his own heart.
He sighs heavily as his anger deflates like an old balloon.
“I will help, but I don’t know how much good I can do.”
“Probably none at all,” a voice calls from the hall.
Fane whips around to find a strange man leaning against the doorframe, the man’s cold smile aimed directly at him.
Fane frowns, darting a glance at Roseline.
“Another friend of yours?”
Roseline nods stiffly.
“Fane, meet Malachi.
He is our…guide, I guess you could say.”
Fane glares at the new arrival, instantly hating him.
Maybe it is the way he casually glances at Roseline, or the way Nicolae’s stance stiffens at the new arrival.
Fane vows to keep an eye on him.
“A guide,” he smirks, letting his arm drape across the back of the couch, “sort of like a tour guide?
If I’d known you wanted to see the sites, I could have bought you a ticket on one of those double decker buses, Roseline.”
Malachi sniffs haughtily.
“I am the proprietor of this estate and I expect you to treat me as such.”
“Whatever,” Fane shrugs, turning away from their host.
“Where’d you dig up this guy?”
“At
Torrent
,” Roseline says.
Her aqua eyes flash, warning him to rein it back in.
Fane shifts his gaze toward Nicolae.
He might not like the boy on principal alone but at least he does not give off any sleazy vibes.
“What about you?
Do you like our new
guide
?”
Nicolae snorts. “Hardly.
The git stole my car.”
“Nicolae,” Roseline snaps, darting a wary glance at Malachi, “your car is parked safely in the garage, remember?”
Fane narrows his eyes at their interaction.
“What gives, Roseline?”
He leans closer, resting his elbows on his knees.
He has never seen her rile so quickly.
Fane glares at Malachi.
“What’s this guy got on you?”
“Nothing,” she snaps.
Her cheeks flush with color.
Malachi grins from his corner.
Fane would like nothing more than to wipe that smirk from his face.
He swivels his head toward the hunter.
“He claims to know how to find Gabriel,” Nicolae answers.
“So why are we all waiting around here, then?” he asks, settling back into the chair, with an air of indifference as he crosses his boots on the glass coffee table.
“Call out hounds, sound the alarm.
It’s time for a good old man hunt.”
His sarcasm manages to extract a small smile from Roseline.
“It’s not that easy.
We don’t even know who took him.”
“On the contrary,” Malachi inserts, stepping further into the room, “we know exactly who took him.”
Three sets of eyes turn toward him.
“They are called the Guardians.”
Chapter 20
A knock sounds at the door to Gabriel’s new room.
His former cage-like room has been replaced by a bedroom of similar size, but the mattress on this cot is much softer.
The door is without a lock and there is a throw rug covering the floor to add a splash of color to an otherwise dreary room.
He now shares a communal bathroom only a couple doors down.
Much better than the privy hole he had before.