A Vampire's Honor (11 page)

I looked down, fiddling with the spoon I used to stir my coffee. I could feel three sets of eyes on me. “Did the police find anything at the scene?” I asked. “A registration or anything in the vehicle that hit me?”

It was Aleksei who answered me. “No. The truck was clean. Too clean, I am thinking.”

“Perhaps that's because I'm pretty sure it wasn't an accident,” I blurted out.

“It was deliberate?” Gabriel said, his eyes turning dark. I could tell from the look on his face that, had he known this earlier, Gus might still be alive. In agonizing pain and wishing he wasn't, but still alive. “Why didn't you tell me this?”

“Excuse me? Who was it who suggested I only needed to say this once?” Irritated by the mild accusation in his tone, I was snappish. “Besides, you've kept me kind of busy.”

There was no doubt in anyone's mind just what keeping me busy entailed. Reaching for my hand, Gabriel squeezed my fingers in apology. Up until this point everyone had assumed the initial collision had been nothing more than a wrong-place-wrong-time type of deal. Hell, I'd thought the same thing until Petrov set me straight.

“I don't understand,” Anasztaizia said, giving me a quizzical look. “You're saying those men waited for you to cross the intersection and then . . . ran into you on purpose?”

I threaded my fingers through Gabriel's and gave his hand a small squeeze of my own. “Yes, that's what I'm saying.”

“Why?”

“Actually, it wasn't me they were after. They didn't know until it was too late that they'd made a mistake and got the wrong girl.”

“What wrong girl?” Aleksei pulled his brows together, making a sharp vertical line between his eyes.

“They meant to snatch Anasztaizia,” I told him, knowing that everything had just gone from bad to worse. “They got the right car . . . just the wrong girl.”

Aleksei's eyes flashed to the lovely Magyar. His face suddenly turned pale, making the scar that ran down his cheek a bright line marking his skin. “Are you saying they wanted Anasztaizia?”

I nodded.

Anasztaizia began to tremble, the big door-knocker diamond on her ring finger tapping its own little SOS on the table surface. She looked totally stunned. “But what would they want with me?”

“Who are these scum?” Aleksei demanded, banging his fist down hard enough to make me jump.

The description Gabriel gave of Rat Boy and Gus was far more detailed than anything I would have provided. His powers of observation were far superior to mine. I hadn't even realized Rat Boy had a tattoo on his neck, much less that it was a drunken leprechaun.

“And you have never seen these men before?” Gabriel asked Aleksei. “Anyone you might have known in your past?”

The big Russian shrugged his impressive shoulders. “I would remember anyone looking like that,” he said confidently. “And these men are dead, yes?”

“One is, and the other wishes he was,” Gabriel said.

“So no more problem,” the big guy stated with a satisfied snort.

He was wrong; he just didn't know it.

I could tell from the look on Aleksei's face that he was beginning to doubt my “wrong girl” account. I'm sure he didn't think I was lying, I had absolutely no reason to, but I had been through a pretty traumatic experience. It was possible I was confused. I didn't blame him for thinking that. In his place the thought would occur to me also. With the oddest sensation that my next words were going to make everything go from bad to worse, I took a deep breath.

“You're not out of danger,” I said, addressing Anasztaizia directly.

“I'm not?” She arched an elegant brow and looked confused.

I shook my head. “Petrov is going to use you to get to Aleksei. I know because that was his plan all along.”

I
never saw the big guy move, but I heard Anasztaizia scream, “No, Aleksei, don't!” at the same time Gabriel grabbed the back of my T-shirt and yanked me out of my seat, putting himself in front of me. My leg caught the edge of the table, lifting it and throwing a momentary obstacle in the path of the Russian vampire. And even when my puny brain caught up with everyone else, and I realized he actually was trying to get to me, I knew it was never Aleksei's intention to hurt me.

He was simply reacting to hearing Petrov's name. Kind of like one of Pavlov's pooches, it had triggered a response in the big guy. Unfortunately, I think I can honestly say it wasn't quite the response any of us had been expecting, although Gabriel might have had an inkling because he was pretty damn quick on his feet. Seeing one vampire move faster than the eye can follow is pretty impressive. Seeing two of them, especially when one is moving to intercept the other, is more than impressive. It's mind-blowing.

My hands clutched at thin air, looking for something, anything, to stop me from going backward, but gravity was already pulling me down so my butt could do a meet-and-greet with the kitchen floor. You would think that my ass would provide some cushioning. Then again, with all the bedroom calisthenics I'd been doing recently, it wasn't quite as well-rounded as it used to be. And I'd thought dropping a size in jeans was a good thing. Thankfully there was nothing behind me but open space, and even though my back and shoulders smacked the floor pretty hard, I managed not to let the back of my head do the same. I'm sure my brain was grateful.

I struggled to my feet with a groan, noting that the kitchen table was now lying on its side, across the room. In trying to stop Aleksei from reaching me, Gabriel had simply thrown it out of his way. Now I watched as he slammed the Russian vampire up against the restaurant-sized stainless-steel fridge. The impact was forceful enough to put a large dent in the door and create an almost musical cascade of breaking bottles from within. Having already replaced the elevator mirror, it now looked as if Tomas was going to have to get a new fridge. I didn't think he would be happy about that.

I stared across the room. Gabriel had his back to me, so I couldn't see his face, but Aleksei was looking right at me. Glaring was more like it. Both of them were pushing against each other, and the strain was beginning to show on Aleksei's face. He didn't look anything like the vampire I had come to know. His eyes were black holes in his head, and his lips were drawn back, fangs on display. He snarled at me, which earned him a head bang, creating another dent in the fridge.

Gabriel was holding Aleksei in place with nothing but the strength and muscle of his own body. With one hand around the Russian vampire's thick neck, he pressed his massive chest forward, keeping Aleksei pinned, and in a strange echo of something I had done earlier, I noticed he'd wedged his leg between Aleksei's thighs, using his hips to anchor the big Russian's lower body.

The tremendous force being exerted by both of them made the air crackle with electricity, and I felt the hair on my arms rise. Shirt seams began to give as muscles strained. I knew, without having to see his face, that Gabriel was using nowhere near his full strength. I watched as he tilted his head down, placed his mouth next to Aleksei's ear, and began talking to him in a low voice that carried like a soft hum throughout the room. Gabriel's right hand was a fist, and it moved across Aleksei's chest, the knuckles making small circles as if he was massaging the big guy's heart. Once he had finished speaking, Gabriel looked into Aleksei's eyes. Whatever he had said was having a profound effect on the Russian.

There was a sudden popping sound, followed by a yelp of surprise, and the strong aroma of coffee made me jump. The glass coffeepot had shattered, startling Anasztaizia. The electrical charge in the air had found a weakness in the carafe. Thankfully there was no flying glass. The pot had pretty much imploded, but hot liquid now flowed unchecked over the counter and dripped onto the floor, forming a puddle. I grabbed a kitchen towel and began mopping up, taking care not to cut myself on any broken glass.

Aleksei let out a frustrated moan. Anasztaizia wasn't hurt, but she might have been, and that was enough to deflate what was left of his anger. His body slumped, and for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I saw Gabriel use his own strength to hold a man upright.

“Come, Rowan, let's give them a few moments,” Anasztaizia said in a quiet voice as she took the kitchen towel out of my hand.

“I really should clean up this mess.” I didn't want the coffee to stain the tile grout.

“We can get that later,” she said, her voice becoming firmer as she took my arm. “Trust me, dahlink, it will be better for Aleksei once we're out of the room. He needs to be alone with Gabriel.”

I looked at her face, knowing I was missing something. Aleksei's reaction might have been practically a Pavlovian response, but something had changed. The sudden violence on Aleksei's part had been frightening. Anasztaizia smiled at me—a wan attempt at reassurance that missed the mark by a mile. Which meant I wasn't the only one Aleksei had scared.

* * *

“Here, drink this.” Gabriel held out a glass, a bottle of Hennessey VSOP cognac in his other hand.

“I thought you knew I'm strictly a bourbon girl,” I said, taking the glass from him.

“It doesn't hurt to try something new every now and then.”

I shrugged and took a healthy swallow. It was good. Very, very good. Anything that doesn't have me coughing up a lung is okay in my book. Not that I've had much experience with such things.

Suggesting my inner bitch go take a hike, I marveled as the cognac slipped down my throat like silk. A wonderful glow began radiating from the center of my chest, gathering all my fraught nerves and wrapping them in a cocoon of alcoholic oblivion. Now I understood why, in a crisis, you're always given brandy to drink. I could get to like this. Very much.

Gabriel brushed his lips across mine and lifted the corners of his mouth. “I think it's safe to say you're now a bourbon and cognac girl.” He grinned.

Movement in the hallway made me glance over his shoulder. “Is Aleksei going to be all right?” I knew better than to ask what had happened. That was a discussion Gabriel and I would have later, when we were alone.

“We shall see,” he relied cryptically. “Another?” He pointed to my now almost-empty glass. Jeez! When had I done that? So smooth I'd just kept on a-drinking and never even noticed. No wonder I was feeling so good.

Infused with a wonderful mellow feeling, I was already under the alcohol's effect. Unfortunately, I hadn't yet told Aleksei about Petrov, but I was confident the conversation would go a lot easier now that I had a slight buzz on. Still, I needed to make certain brain and tongue remained on good terms. “Better not,” I said, refusing Gabriel's offer. “Maybe after we're done.”

Aleksei and Anasztaizia came into the room together. The looks on their faces made me think they'd been standing in the hallway eavesdropping (not really necessary on Aleksei's part), waiting for an appropriate lull in our conversation to come in.

I took a seat in one of the deep club chairs, tucking my feet beneath me. Anasztaizia had changed her clothes, and the big guy had changed his shirt. Now the slogan across his chest read
Semper Fi,
always faithful. Yeah, I was feeling a definite connection between Aleksei and the Corps. He stood just inside the doorway, studying the herringbone pattern of the hardwood flooring. Anasztaizia was rubbing her palm gently up and down his arm, giving him moral support.

He cleared his throat, “Rowan, I—”

“No, Aleksei, please don't say anything,” I interrupted. “I think it would be better if you heard me out first. All of you.”

Aleksei glanced down at Anasztaizia, before looking over her head at Gabriel. My boyfriend answered him with a nod of his head that seemed to say,
First, last, it will all get told
. I smoothed my hands over the arms of the club chair, the soft Italian leather silky beneath my palms. Deep inside I knew that once I started speaking, I wouldn't be able to stop. And I couldn't be selective about what I told them either. This was all or nothing. Leaving anything out could be dangerous for Aleksei. Even more so for Anasztaizia.

I took a breath, felt a sudden burst of cognac glow, and told them everything from the time I'd left Anasztaizia at the restaurant with my box of Esterházy torte, to when Gabriel had rescued me. I recalled each moment of the nightmarish incident with as much detail as possible, stumbling only when it came to describing Gus's intimidation tactics as he prepared to rape me.

I could feel Gabriel's eyes fixed on me the whole time I spoke, almost feel the dull ache he was giving himself from clenching his jaw. If he wasn't careful, he was going to crack a molar. I couldn't look at him. I knew it wasn't my fault, but I couldn't look him in the eye and talk about another man unzipping his pants and masturbating in front of me. I was grateful when my narrative was over.

Nobody said anything. I don't think they honestly knew what to say, and then Anasztaizia cut to the heart of the matter. “But the drugs didn't work because Gabriel was able to find you and, well”—she gestured with her hand in my direction—“you're obviously not dead, unless—” She broke off abruptly.

“Unless what?” Aleksei encouraged in a soothing rumble.

“Well, Petrov”—she gave a little shudder as she said his name—“may have known you're involved with a vampire, but I doubt he knows you're a Promise.”

“I'm pretty sure he had no idea,” I agreed.

“There's no way to know if Rowan's being a Promise made any difference,” Gabriel said thoughtfully. “I can tell you the first drug was somewhat effective. It definitely compromised my ability to sense her.” He gave a brief rundown on the quicksilver feeling he'd had, and the frustration of almost not getting to me in time. “As for her not dying . . . I wasn't taking any chances. I put Rowan in my sarcophagus, and I do know her being a Promise was the only reason I could do that.” He gave Aleksei a knowing look. “Until we have found this bastard, you must take precautions and be vigilant.”

When Gabriel spoke, it wasn't as a friend or mentor offering advice, or even as a parental figure guiding an offspring. This was something different. An Original Vampire reclaiming his role as maker, instructing his progeny on a specific course of action.

Anasztaizia frowned, her fingers playing with the big diamond on her ring finger. “But do you really think he'll come after me now? Surely he will realize that Rowan will have told us everything?”

“Assuming he knows I'm alive,” I murmured.

“Oh, he knows,” Gabriel said confidently. “He would have gone back to make sure you were dead. But finding you gone and seeing what I left behind, well”—he shrugged—“I'm certain he knows his own existence is no longer a secret.”

“But how do you know he would have gone back?”

“I don't,” Gabriel said, “not for sure, but it's what I would have done.”

Aleksei, who had been curiously silent during this exchange, was staring at me. I raised my brows. It seemed obvious he had something on his mind, and if he was waiting for an invitation to speak, I decided to hand it to him on the proverbial silver platter. Getting to his feet, he crossed the room and embarrassed the hell out of me by dropping to his knees before me. Even kneeling, he was still almost a head taller than me, although I was sitting in the club chair.

As if suddenly realizing this, and deciding it might be disrespectful or something, he took my hands in both of his, bowed his head and rested his forehead against them.

“I humble myself before you,” he said solemnly. “You are my maker's Promise, and I beg you to find it in your heart to forgive me.” He paused, and I watched a slight tremble move his shoulders. “What I did . . . what I did . . . was-was—”

“No, no, no, Aleksei—don't!” I yanked my hands out of his grasp, horrified by his display of contrition. If he wanted to apologize for scaring the shit out of me, fine. A raised hand followed by a
Sorry for scaring the shit out of you, Ro
was more than enough. But this? Going down on his knees? This was too much. Waaaay too much.

He didn't move or try to get up. And he didn't look at me, which I found really disturbing. This was the vampire who delighted in flashing me his fangs every chance he got.

It might be better not to remind him about that just now.
He was the one who sat through the movie
Titanic
with me, not at all embarrassed about showing his appreciation of Kate Winslet's assets, and who teased me in fractured English. So why the hell was he on his knees? Surely he knew I would hate that.

I looked over at Gabriel. His expression was stoic, revealing nothing, and yet he didn't seem surprised by Aleksei's actions. And, though Anasztaizia looked as if she was holding her breath, she also didn't seem shocked by her man's penitent display.

The only one taken aback was me.

Aleksei remained on his knees, keeping his head bowed and dropping his hands to his massive thighs. It occurred to me that perhaps snatching my hands away might have been the wrong thing to do. It might send the message that I was still scared or angry. I patted him tentatively on one shoulder. It was like stroking a rock. “Aleksei, please, you have to look at me.”