A Vampire's Honor (23 page)

I may not have been in tune with Kartel, but I knew enough about Gabriel to tell he wasn't interacting with him the way he had with Ryiel. I don't know if Aleksei noticed anything out of the ordinary about Gabriel's response. The big guy was dealing with issues of his own, but even if he wasn't bristling, he might not have noticed. With Gabriel you had to know what to look for. Everything from his breathing to the flexing muscles of his forearm—hell, even the way he was swirling his vodka—confirmed his lack of trust in the vampire sitting across from him.

Actually, it was. This was my first glimpse of Gabriel interacting with a vampire he didn't like.

That was entirely different. I think he liked her well enough until she tried to kill me, and besides, I'm pretty sure Kartel isn't interested in getting into Gabriel's pants like Katja was.

That reminder I could have done without. I mentally shushed my inner bitch so I could concentrate on everything that wasn't being said between Gabriel and our guest.

“So what brings you here, Kartel . . . to my home?” Gabriel asked.

A blind man and his dog would be able to pick up on that one. This was a big deal. Coming to a vampire's home uninvited.

Kartel, with his Katy Perry hair, seemed to be fashioned from the irritating younger sibling mold. The kind of relative that, as a kid, had a standing weekly appointment with the principal and, as an adult, only called when he needed bail money. Which was often. Of course I could be totally wrong. My own family dynamic hardly made me an expert, but I've watched enough daytime TV.

“I've come to tell you that Petrov is off-limits. He is under my protection, and any punishment he may receive will be both determined and administered by me.” He paused before adding, “And only by me.”

“Y
ou do know he abducted Rowan?” Gabriel said, keeping his voice deliberately calm.

Kartel waved his hand in my direction. “And yet there she stands, alive and unharmed.”

“No thanks to your boy,” I snapped. “Did he tell you he actually injected me with some concoction that was meant to kill me? Did he tell you that?”

“As I said . . . alive and unharmed.”

Fuming, I reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels and a shot glass.

“I had no idea you still shared a bond with him.” Gabriel took a sip of his vodka. “I assumed you would have discarded him long ago.”
Like all the other vampires you ever created,
he didn't need to add.

“I have my reasons, Gabriel, and Petrov has proved his worth to me.”

“No matter, his actions warrant an accounting, Kartel. You know that.” Gabriel's voice was grave.

“Then trust me to take care of it, but in my own time.”

“And when will that be?” Aleksei asked, jumping into the conversation. “After he has persuaded you to kill me?”

“Killing you has never been his aim,” Kartel said, looking over Gabriel's head at the Russian vampire. “He just wants you to suffer. Why else would he go after the female that feeds you?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. If they gave out prizes for the most selfish, uncaring, arrogant prick of a vampire, then this guy was a winner, hands down.

“Don't you think Aleksei has suffered enough at Petrov's hands?” I wasn't expecting an answer. I was throwing the question out there as a reminder of who the real monster was in all this. A monster with zero remorse.

“Ah, so you are familiar with the details of their little dispute, are you?”

“I hardly think rape and murder can be categorized as a
little dispute,
” I snapped. He made a dismissive gesture, and I clenched my hands to stop myself from throwing something at him. Preferably the bottle of Ballantine's.

“Is this the only reason for your visit?” Gabriel asked.

Kartel was startled by the question. It seemed as if he was being dismissed, except he wasn't quite ready to go. “Yes,” he said slowly before adding, “and of course I wanted to see for myself that your Promise had indeed survived.”

“Take a good look, asshole,” I muttered, filling the shot glass with bourbon and managing not to spill any on the polished mahogany bar surface.

“You do know your abduction was an accident, don't you? If those imbecilic morons Petrov used had half a brain between them, this never would have happened, and I wouldn't be here.”

“You're wrong,” Gabriel said coldly. “You would still be here as you are, but we would not be engaged in so pleasant a conversation.”
This is pleasant?
“Petrov's intended victim is just as important to me. Someone whose well-being is very much my concern.” Gabriel tossed down his vodka, giving Kartel a moment to grasp the full ramifications of his words. “But I am curious . . . just when did Petrov realize Rowan was a Promise? Before or after he gave her the injections meant to kill her?”

I had told Gabriel that although Petrov sensed I was different, I wasn't certain he knew I was a Promise. A fact Kartel now confirmed.

“I'm not sure he did realize, at least not until after he found the message you left behind.”

What message? Had Rat Boy said something? Somehow I didn't think he'd ever be coherent again.

“He didn't know it was you,” Kartel said, answering the unspoken question on Gabriel's face, “until I enlightened him. Had you simply broken the imbecile's neck, I would also have remained ignorant of your involvement, but removing the heart that way? That's quite unique, and there's only one vampire I know who kills with such ruthless efficiency. Of course the why was a puzzle until Petrov admitted the woman was also gone. After that everything became clear as crystal.”

“I find it hard to believe he didn't know what Rowan is,” Gabriel said in an icy voice. “Any vampire that comes within ten feet would pick up her scent and be able to identify it. And he actually spilled her blood.”

“Well, he didn't know,” Kartel said unconcernedly. “Blame me if you wish. Perhaps I should have told him how to recognize a Promise, and what to do if he came across one. Frankly, I never expected it to happen. Petrov told me he panicked, and I have no reason to doubt him.”

“That's bullshit! He's lying, and you know it!” I slammed the empty shot glass I was holding down on the bar hard enough to crack the glass. The vampire I recalled wasn't at all panicked. He was in complete control of the situation and had no hesitation whatsoever about what he was going to do, or what he expected Gus to do to me.

Kartel turned his head and stared at me, his pale green eyes glowing oddly. “A compromise then,” he said, turning back to Gabriel. “I will give him to you when I am done with him.”

“No,” Gabriel said, getting to his feet, indicating the discussion was over. “His life is mine. You have twenty-four hours to bring him to me . . . alive and unharmed.”

“Unharmed?”

Kartel was hiding something, but if he was angered by Gabriel's decision, he hid it well. Tossing what was left of his scotch down, he got to his feet. “Tell me, Gabriel, did it never strike you as curious that both the peasant farmer and Petrov could be turned?”

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Coincidence, nothing more.”

Kartel stared at him, a look of mock surprise on his face. “You don't really believe that, do you?” He shook his head, making the periwinkle-blue hair shimmer across his shoulders. “Well, I can tell you it's more than coincidence.”

“What do you mean?” Aleksei snarled from behind Gabriel.

“You forget, Aleksei, I have tasted your blood as well as that of Nikolayev Vasily Petrov, and I find too many similarities for mere coincidence.”

“Stop talking in riddles, and speak plain!” His snarl turned a little more menacing. “What are you saying about Petrov?”

“He's saying, or rather he's implying, that you and Petrov are related by blood,” I burst out incredulously.

Aleksei slowly turned his head and looked at me, and then whipped his gaze back to Kartel. “Is that true? Is that what you're saying?”

“What Petrov did to your sister? That was just a boy following his father's example. Petrov doesn't hate you because you sought revenge; that was something he understood. He even admired you for having the balls to take him on, and I know because he's told me often enough. What Petrov hates is the fact you are undeniable proof that a rumor was true.” Kartel stepped out from between the seating arrangement and the low coffee table, moving into an unobstructed part of the living room. “What Petrov hates is knowing his only surviving brother—a half-brother—exists because his father took a peasant girl into a barn full of cows and straw and shit and fucked her. An unacceptable reminder that under the skin—peasant or aristocrat—you're all the same. Trust me, what he did to your sister, and subsequently your family, was no accident.”

“But how did Petrov find out about Aleksei?” I asked.

“He says his father told him,” Kartel replied.

“Why would he do that?”

“Who knows? You humans are consumed by guilt over the most trivial things. Perhaps a living reminder of his infidelity filled the old count with a need to confess, or maybe,” Kartel continued with a grin that was pure evil. “He knew how his legitimate heir would react to such a revelation.”

A howl of rage almost shattered my eardrums. The knowledge that Kartel was superior to him in strength was forgotten by Aleksei who, in a moment of sheer madness, launched himself at the Original Vampire. I told myself the surprise of his attack would surely be an advantage, but if it was, I never got the chance to see it.

Unwilling to let Aleksei commit suicide, Gabriel tackled him. Wrapping his arms around him, he took the big guy down to the ground in a movement that was so quick it was over before I had time to blink. That was the other thing Aleksei seemed to have forgotten. Only an Original Vampire could take the life of another vampire. It was something I was sure Kartel never forgot.

Gabriel snapped out a series of commands as he dragged Aleksei from the room. I didn't recognize the language, but the tone and intent were clear. And as I watched the big guy struggle in his maker's arms, I had the most absurd idea that perhaps this entire incident wasn't quite as spontaneous as it might appear.

What would possess Kartel to move to the only place in the room where Aleksei had a clear shot at him? He must have known his inflammatory comments would provoke such a reaction. Why would he want Aleksei to attack him? Was it to satisfy some warped vindictive streak, or did the Original Vampire want to finish what Petrov had started and failed to complete?

There was no doubt in my mind that Kartel had an agenda. I just wished I knew what it was. I went to reach for a new shot glass and stopped. How many would that make? Three? Four? Instead I recapped the bottle of Jack Daniels and put it back on the shelf.

Huh?

Shit! I never considered that.

No sooner had this thought finished bouncing around inside my head than I felt Kartel's cold, pale green eyes staring at me. His mouth had become a grim line, and my sixth sense began pinging again, only louder this time. Maybe I'd been too hasty in putting the bottle of Jack away.

The voices in the hallway were getting louder, becoming more strident and anger-filled. It seemed that Gabriel was having difficulty convincing Aleksei not to rip Kartel a new one. He had my sympathy, and my complete support. Aleksei, that is. Then Anasztaizia's gentle voice somehow made itself heard over the brouhaha. She had more success than Gabriel in calming Aleksei down, if the low grumbling was any indication.

“What do you want, Kartel?” I asked, returning his steely stare with one of my own.

“From you?”

If he was expecting me to be quaking in my boots at finding myself alone with him, he was in for a rude awakening. I made a deliberate sweep of the room before turning my attention back to him. “Don't see anyone else here, do you?”

He grunted. “All I want from you is the answer to a question.”

“Asking is free, but I can't guarantee I'll answer.”

“Oh, you'll answer all right,” he said menacingly.

The fact that he was openly threatening me with Gabriel only a few feet away said he'd lost his mind. There was no other explanation. Mad as a hatter. He was Johnny Depp in the middle of Wonderland but with better hair and no weird makeup. Trouble was, I wasn't Alice.

“What do you want to know?” I asked, thinking maybe the question would be a simple one and I could answer without any more drama.

“How did you survive Petrov's drug?”

Aw, shit—why couldn't he have asked me something else? “I don't know,” I told him, which was true. There could be any number of reasons that would account for my still being in the land of the living. Petrov's formula might not have been as lethal as he'd thought. Gabriel's sarcophagus might have worked its mojo on me. My demonic pact might actually have come through. All were possibilities. There was just no way to know for certain.

“You're lying,” he sneered.

“I'm n-not!”

“There's only one way to find out.”

My mouth suddenly became the Sahara Desert, making it impossible for me to speak.

“I'm going to taste your blood,” Kartel said with a chilling smile.

I took a horrified step back and hit the counter behind me with enough force that several bottles rattled. “Are you insane?” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. “I'm not going to let you take my blood.”

“I don't recall giving you a choice.”

There came a soft click as the blue-haired vampire dropped his fangs. I didn't even try to hide the shiver of fear that ran through me.

“Do you think Gabriel is going to let you do this to me?”

“Of course not. Do you think I'm stupid?”

For a moment, a millisecond in time, I actually thought Kartel was going to slap his thigh, give me a belly laugh, and tell me I'd just been punked. I waited for him to grin and say, “Girl, you should've seen your face!” while Gabriel and Aleksei came back into the room high-fiving each other, acting all frat-boyish at making me fall for their vampire joke.

But of course, no such thing happened.

Instead Kartel snapped his wrist, and I saw something black and shiny fly from his fingers. It reminded me of one of those Ninja throwing stars, although I couldn't imagine why he would feel the need to have such an object. I realized my mistake the minute I heard it hit the wall. Instead of a metallic twanging sound, it landed with a wet-sounding
whomp
.

“What the fuck?” I was going to have a permanent ridge between my eyebrows if I didn't stop frowning, but this couldn't be helped. Kartel had thrown a rune, and like those on Gabriel's sarcophagus, this one also moved. It scurried up the wall like some alien beetle until it reached the top of the open doorway and embedded itself in the sheet rock. I can honestly say it added nothing to the décor.