Vaewolf: Damn the Darkness: The Prophecy's Promise (Hearts of Darkness Book 3) (21 page)

“You okay?”

“Yes...yes, fine. Great.” She blinked several times and caught her breath, raising a hand to the closed wound at her throat. Then with a sly smile she straightened her clothes. “After all these years, I’ve never encountered anyone with the equivalent of your talent. You’re still the best with that mind of yours.”

“Well-practiced.” He bowed slightly. “I appreciate your generosity.”

“Your mate? Is she accepting? Could we be more—?”

Oh, hell no.
Dylan didn’t dare say what he was thinking. “No, sorry. We can’t. But I appreciate the offer.”

Her flavor strongly hinted of demon, a flavor he didn’t remember she’d carried when they were last together. And something about Antoinette’s new, baser needs reminded him so very much of Amyra he had to hold back the shudder of disgust. Being inside Antoinette’s head had creeped him out, and it was hard to creep out a three-hundred year old vampire with his history—a warrior who’d spent years killing as a dark berserker.

“What did you really want from me?” the woman asked.

“It’s a long story. Questions. I need answers. I thought you might have them.” He’d taken her blood, and he’d been in her head. Anything he needed to know had been at his disposal.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

Dylan shook his head. “Not exactly. But what I found gave me an idea or two.”

She ran the back of her hand down the side of Dylan’s jaw. “Then I’m glad I could help. Will I see you around?”

“Life’s long. I’m sure we’ll cross paths in the future.” A hint of a chill gripped his heart like a bad premonition.

When he escorted her back to the bar, the guy she’d been with sized Dylan up, and bristled with anger.

“Don’t be a fool,” she said, and shot the dumb ass a deadly stare. To keep her friend alive, she dragged him off to the dance floor without uttering another word. That boy was going to be on the receiving end of her whip, tonight, and Dylan had ideas and places to explore since he’d been in her mind.

Were the answers to Dylan’s questions about the prophecy written on a tablet in an ancient vault in Mesopotamia? Or was it on the scrolls?

Niccolai, the ancient vampire, stored a few secrets in a corner of Antoinette’s mind, including where he’d buried the ancient scrolls. If Dylan was right, they were in a large metal box, beside a closed casket in a tomb. The tomb looked Egyptian, but there was something oddly familiar looking about the other vision.

Chapter Twenty Eight

The Only Hope

A key.

It sparked another memory, and if he was right, Dylan would have to go home before he tracked Niccolai’s scrolls to an undiscovered tomb in Egypt. Because the key was inside a secondary vault in the crypt at the estate. During Caitlin’s internment, he remembered seeing the other box from Antoinette’s memories. A memory of his own, a key, Niccolai had once told him, the key would open a secret vault should he or Jackson ever have need of answers.

Well, didn’t they damned sure need answers now since they’d fucked up and imprinted on the same woman?

~~~~

When Dylan arrived back in
Sang Froid
, he went directly to the mausoleum in secret. The key was wrapped in papyrus when he opened the hidden vault, exactly where he saw it. The scroll, actually a detailed map and directions, enabled Dylan to sift to the exact location. And the chest with the prophecy’s tablet was in a vault in Mesopotamia.

If he didn’t get answers there, he considered rousing Niccolai from the dead, but he’d prefer to spare his maker the pain. Besides, he didn’t want to risk the insanity for Niccolai or the potential danger waking him might bring down on civilization.

Before he took the inevitable trip to Greece where the tablet was interred with some ancient vampire who’d grown tired of living, or was too mentally unstable to face another sunset, Dylan needed to call Victor. He was gathering more questions than answers, and Dylan was sick of questions. It was time to track down answers.

~~~~

With Max’s research background and Victor knowledge of vampire history, Dylan wished he could have brought them with him so they could have seen the tablet in person. The damned thing was impressive. But until they had a precise translation he wasn’t any better off than he’d been yesterday.

He never wanted to believe Caitlin and Jackson were the species only hope of creating a new line of biological offspring, but he couldn’t argue with the team of ancients who’d translated the original divination. There were too many coincidences between what was happening to them and the ancient prophecies. Thank the old gods, Dylan hadn’t completed the mating ritual with Caitlin when he discovered she was his. If they’d spoken the vows and performed the final ritual, neither of them would have been attracted to anyone else ever again, and even id Victor’s impression was correct, Jackson was vitally essential to the prophecy.

Jackson, with his father’s demi-god DNA and his mother’s Lycan background, imprinted on Caitlin because of her recessive wolf genes. Caitlin’s fae lineage was dominant until Dylan turned her with Shelby’s blood. He was beginning to agree with Victor’s hypothesis. The DNA soup mixed with Caitlin’s gene pool, redirected the circumstances regarding the prophecies.

If he was right, Dylan hadn’t complicated anything. He’d been the one to fulfill a necessary step. She was the mix it would take to carry on Niccolai’s bloodline. The best potential mate for Jackson, a vampire and Werewolf, someone descended from Amyra’s demi-god bloodline, demon, fae, and berserker. Her new bloodline could bring all the factions together. Jackson wasn’t the vampire messiah they all believed, but perhaps Caitlin was. Niccolai’s blood was strong and light. It would overpower Amyra’s darker DNA within all of them. Caitlin was the prophecy’s promise.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Jackson Confronts Her

Vampires could control their body temperatures, but Caitlin still enjoyed the sense of magic Mother Nature offered every now and then. The evenings grew warmer and muggier with each passing day. But tonight—a pleasant—change a slight breeze blew in after a heavy rainstorm drenched the bayou.

She’d invited Isobel to keep her company for the evening meal. The set up on the veranda, with the croaking frogs and the other evening sounds took her mind off the anxiety of the situation. Each night, the lovely vampire took turns with Garr, training Caitlin to use her new abilities. Since Dylan had announced he would be leaving and set up a training schedule, Isobel kept her company when Shelby didn’t come by.

Lately, Caitlin’s taste for food centered on flower salads—something she never considered appetizing before. Orchids and roses mixed with mint and a honey mustard dressing was on the menu tonight. And it smelled delicious.

Isobel took the Pinot Grigio from the wine cooler, opened it, and brought it to the table. She examined Caitlin’s meal and smiled. “It smells like a flower garden.”

“Mmm and it tastes like one, too. I don’t know why I never realized how tasty flowers were when I was mortal.”

“I suspect your fae lineage has something to do with it.” Isobel explained. “When I went through my metamorphosis, I was surprised by the subtle changes in my tastes. Sweets were never a favorite of mine before my change. I have to admit, I developed an insatiable sweet tooth.

Caitlin grinned and offered her a bite of her salad. “Honey mustard?”

Isobel shook her head and laughed. “No thank you, but later, I won’t turn down a chocolate brownie, if you have one.”

“Ah, a weakness for chocolate. Good, I think we can dig one up from somewhere. I have a stash in the kitchen for times when only chocolate will do.”

Isobel giggled, and sipped her wine. She patiently answered Caitlin’s never ending barrage of questions.

“I’m sorry I seem to be interrogating you. I appreciate everything you’ve taught me, Isobel, but you must have a life besides babysitting me. Not that I’m complaining. I love our time together.”

Caitlin considered how one-sided her friendships had become since her metamorphosis. Until she stabilized, she had little to offer in return. Perhaps girl talk would bring them closer.

Isobel had a sweet way of being open and closed mouthed at the same time. What she chose to share about herself was superficial. The psychic in Caitlin rose to the challenge and still couldn’t determine a way into her thoughts. Her mind was a steel vault. Caitlin’s curiosity peaked, and so she decided on another tactic—good old-fashioned friendship.

“I thoroughly enjoy your company, but hey girl, don’t you ever date? Tell me about you.”

“All I can say is my heart belongs to a man I can never
claim
.” Isobel’s smile went from pleasant to sad, and Caitlin was immediately sorry she brought up the subject.

“I apologize for intruding.” Caitlin often noted her faraway look and had the sense Isobel’s pain was as significant as her own.

“
Cherie
, in the many lifetimes I have lived, I’ve done my share of ‘dating’ as you call it. Without love, it gets…stale.”

“If you ever want to talk—”

Caitlin suddenly sensed the presence of someone else, and so did Isobel. The vampire glanced up scanning the night for the intruder.

“Perhaps another time. For now, I sense Jackson is near. He will attend to you, and I will leave you two to settle your affairs.”

Before Caitlin could protest, Isobel stood and traced away, leaving her to confront the one man she never wanted to see again.

Chapter Thirty

The Hunger

Jackson was out there in the trees—doing what? Gathering courage? Control? This was only the second time he’d actually shown himself to her, since Dylan’s hasty departure to locate Antoinette. And no one had heard a damned thing from Dylan since.

The piercing jealousy struck. What could the other woman know that would be of any use to them? Antoinette’s relationship with Niccolai and Amyra played a large part in Dylan’s past, and that grated on Caitlin. The female vampire betrayed him once. What would prevent her from doing it again?

Caitlin didn’t trust anyone who’d been close to Amyra for so many years, yet alone the female vampire who once gave up Dylan’s location to crazed Hunters in Paris to save her own neck. Why he hadn’t taken his vengeance on her after he escaped puzzled Caitlin, but she couldn’t get through Dylan’s mind blocks to determine if he still had feelings for his old on-again-off-again mistress?

Tonight, her reaction to Jackson was no different than the other times when he’d come to her. Even before she sensed Jackson drawing closer, the dark fae within her responded to his presence.

“Hello, Jackson. Where have you been, lately?”

“Hunting. Out in the bayou,” he snapped. “Not far enough, though. I felt your need calling to me from over six miles away.”

When she least expected him to be frank, he turned the tables on her. He’d been here often—keeping his distance—watching over her day and night from beyond the perimeter of trees at the edge of the forest. With Dylan gone, and her loneliness increasing day by day, even though her mind fought the idea, her body seemed more open to accepting the lust the fae felt for Jackson. His scent already had her insides aching for him—hot, damp, and ready.

“Talk to me,” Jackson’s his deep gruff voice whispered, reaching her sensitive hearing even though he hovered in the shadows beyond the edge of the walkway.

“About what?” She didn’t bother to lift her head to look for him. When he wanted her to see him, she would. Until then, she kept her voice low, knowing he could hear her, too.

“You have something to tell me,” he said.

“Tell you? As if you care? You ran when I needed answers. I’ve got nothing to say.”

“Then I’ll tell you. You need to feed. Garr said the last time he saw you, you looked too weak to hunt on your own. You haven’t fed properly since when? Dylan?”

“He left me blood.” Caitlin shook her head. It was a useless a question. He knew the answer, so what was the point of answering? “And Shelby offered to come by later—”

“Shelby is too young. Her blood isn’t strong enough to sustain you. Besides, neither she nor bagged blood can completely satisfy your hunger...for the other need. Consider that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” he said, his words gruff with his desire.

“What other need?”

“Honesty,
cher
...” The derision in Jackson’s eyes penetrated straight to her heart when he stared her down. “Promise there will be honesty between us if nothing else.”

“If nothing else?” His ballsy expression said everything when he stepped from the shadows. Caitlin didn’t have to search his mind to see the attitude or the hard-on he was sporting.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. God help her. He knew about her need. She immediately copped an attitude of her own to defend the rampant fae poking at her to give in. His inspection made her feel exposed, mentally and physically naked. Burying the panic she felt in his presence, she jumped to interrogation mode. False bravado always helped her control her nerves.