A Vampire's Honor (9 page)

I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or shut, because there was nothing to mark the difference. Open or closed was all the same. The darkness surrounding me was absolute. Every grain of light had been snuffed out of existence. The energy used to produce such a phenomenon had simply been eliminated.

If I was supposed to be afraid, I wasn't. I didn't really feel much of anything, truth be told. No fear, no anxiety pulling at me. Nothing sending my nervous system on a roller-coaster ride or making my heart skip a beat or two. Assuming, of course, that it actually was still beating.

And then I heard a whisper in the darkness. No, not a whisper, more of a . . . sigh. A sigh that sang my name.

A sound that was capable of physical touch. It stroked my skin, brushed over my nipples, fluttered between my legs. It aroused me, making me feel warm and safe. Making me feel that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Making me feel like I had come home.

I
woke to find Gabriel on his side, propped up on one arm, watching me. My mouth stretched into a smile as his other hand made a lazy, circular sweep across my back. He smiled back, and I blinked sleepily at him through the tangle of curls that fell across my face. “You came for me,” I said in a voice that was still in awe of the vision I'd beheld.

He regarded me with a puzzled frown, halting his hand at the tattoo in the small of my back. The group of symbols that was his name in a language I'd never known existed. “You doubted that I would?”

“I didn't know,” I confessed, pushing the hair from my face. “One of the drugs I was given . . . he said it was an inhibitor, that you wouldn't be able to sense me. Actually it was meant for Anasztaizia so Aleksei wouldn't be able to find her.”

“Ah, so that was the reason.” His fingers brushed lightly over my inking before resuming their course along my spine.

“The reason for what?”

“The reason you felt like quicksilver in my mind.”

Quicksilver, I knew from one of my high school science classes, was another name for mercury. The stuff they used to put in thermometers, and it's also the reason for the phrase
mad as a hatter.
If memory serves, back in the day, mercury was used as part of the hat-making process, but prolonged exposure to its vapors resulted in madness. Having seen pictures of what passed as fashionable headgear during that time, I think the insanity was pretty self-evident.

“One minute I could reach you,” Gabriel continued, “and the next you were slipping away from me.”

“But it didn't stop you from finding me.”

“No, it just took me longer.” Frustration and anger flashed quickly across his face.

“Gabriel, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known.”

He stroked a finger across my cheek. “Nothing will ever stop me from coming for you, Rowan, and I will always find you.
Always
.”

My stomach muscles clenched at hearing his words, and I found it incredible that this gorgeous man, this gorgeous vampire, was in love with me. “You're so beautiful,” I murmured. Gabriel looked startled, enough so that I apologized. “Ah jeez, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you.”

“I'm not embarrassed,” he reassured me. “I'm just a little surprised.”

I sat up and looked down at him. “You don't think I ever noticed how incredibly good-looking you are?”

“Oh, I figured you'd noticed,” he said, clearly distracted by the sight of my naked breasts. “I just thought it would take you longer to say it out loud.” His dimple winked at me.

Despite his teasing tone, Gabriel had a valid point. I didn't verbalize nearly enough all the things I felt about him. And shrieking while on the verge of an orgasm didn't count. We'd declared our love to each other, in word and deed. Any doubt about the latter could be confirmed by a certain demon still trying to make sense of it, but I think this was the first time I'd actually commented on his looks. Normally I was so overwhelmed by the sheer perfection of Gabriel's features, I became tongue-tied. Which was quite shameful because he was always telling me how beautiful I was to him.

He reached up and smoothed a curl between his fingers, watching as it coiled in his hand. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good. Did you . . . were you able to get it all out of me?”

“Not all of it,” he told me, looking a little troubled, “but what remains cannot hurt you.” I was about to ask him how he could be so certain some residue was still in me when I suddenly became aware of where it was located. If I concentrated, I could feel it moving in a lethargic roll in the cold place deep inside me. The place left empty by the missing piece of my soul. I wasn't worried. Nothing could survive in there.

I was grateful to be alive, in one piece and relatively undamaged. It was too horrible to contemplate what Gus and Rat Boy might have done to me if Gabriel hadn't stopped them. Saying thank you seemed so inadequate, but I didn't know how else to convey what I was feeling. Fortunately, my brain decided to save me from blurting out something inane or wildly inappropriate or possibly both. It told my heart to take a road trip and lodge itself in my throat. Unable to speak, I began to tremble, and my tears went into overdrive.

Gabriel held me close, and I snaked an arm around his neck while at the same time pushing my leg between his thighs. There was nothing sexual about this; it was a gesture of comfort. Then, with my face in the hollow of his neck, I wept.

His voice was a soothing murmur as he spoke to me in a language I'd never heard before. It made no difference. The words were secondary. In Gabriel's arms I was safe. What had happened to me, what had
nearly
happened to me, had been a mistake. A true case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, because it wasn't me that Gus and Rat Boy were supposed to abduct, but—
Anasztaizia!

I yanked myself rudely out of Gabriel's embrace, saying, “I have to talk to Aleksei!”

His hands caught hold of my upper arms, preventing me from rolling off him. “Of course, and you can, but later—”

“No, you don't understand—I have to talk to him
now.
”

“Rowan, you can talk to Aleksei all you want, but not right—”

“But you don't understand—it's important!” Surely the urgency in my voice, the way I was struggling to get out of his hold told him that?

“More important than Anasztaizia?” Gabriel asked, giving me a shake.

“Anasztaizia?” My voice became fearful. Oh, dear God, no! Don't tell me Petrov had managed to get to her after all.

“Yes, she saw you on the news and became hysterical.” In a quick move, Gabriel reversed our positions, so I was now looking up at him.

“I was on the news?”

“Well, not you exactly, but there was a report about a traffic accident downtown. It seems a big pickup plowed into a little red sports car.”

“And they reported that?” I was incredulous. Vehicle accidents happened all the time. I couldn't imagine anything less than a multi-car pileup being newsworthy.

“It arouses curiosity when there are no victims at the scene,” Gabriel said quietly. “For now it's being passed off as kids joyriding or some such nonsense.” So much for Rat Boy's proclamation about Petrov's vehicular cleanup skills.

“And Anasztaizia recognized her car on TV,” I said. I don't know why I was surprised. I would have recognized mine. Well, the POS anyway.

“Thankfully it was right before the police showed up at her apartment,” Gabriel said.

“The police?” Of course, they would have gotten her information from the registration. “W-what did she tell them?”

Gabriel raised a brow. “She told them she hadn't realized her car had been stolen.”

Now it was my turn to be puzzled. “Why would she tell the police that?”

“Because, sweetheart, it was obvious you were missing.”

It made sense. Anasztaizia's experience would tell her which events were best left in the hands of human law enforcement, and which were better suited to vampire retribution. And anything concerning me would automatically be turned over to Gabriel.

“But she gave me the key,” I told him, pointing out what I thought was an obvious flaw in the lovely Magyar's explanation. “If her car was stolen, wouldn't it have been hot-wired or something?”

“If the police ask, she'll confess she might have forgotten to lock the car, might even have left the key in the ignition.”

I didn't ask if he thought the police, or more likely the insurance company, would believe her. This was Anasztaizia we were talking about, always so calm, cool, collected—“You said she got hysterical?”

“Yes.” His mouth became a grim line. “She came here as soon as the police had left. Tomas said she was crying, making no sense and demanding to see me. When he told her I was already searching for you she became quite hysterical. He gave her something to calm her down, put her in one of the guest bedrooms, and called Aleksei.” A little smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Trust me, there is no way that woman is leaving until she's seen with her own eyes that you're in one piece.”

“Oh.”

The relief of knowing Anasztaizia and Aleksei were both safe and only a few rooms away drained the tension right out of me. I tried to sit up, but the leg I had put between Gabriel's thighs was still there. Somehow he'd managed to keep it locked in place when he'd rolled me. He squeezed gently before releasing me. The subtle pressure felt good.

I stretched. One of those full-body, throw your arms above your head and push out from the tips of your fingers to the end of your toes kind of stretches. Every muscle expanded, every ligament lengthened, and my body elongated so it was firm and taut. I held my breath when it became almost too much, before collapsing back into the pillows.

Gabriel brushed his thumb over my lower lip before asking, “How are you feeling . . . really?”

“I've never felt more grateful to be alive . . . really.”

And it was true. I'd never felt this good in my entire life. The throb in my skull was gone; the ache across my shoulders and chest had vanished. I looked down at myself, fully expecting to see bruises or some evidence that I'd been involved in a vehicular mishap, but my skin was perfectly clear. Not a contusion in sight, not even where my forehead had hit the steering wheel. I raised my hand and looked at my fingers. There was no swelling or discoloration; my joints looked perfectly normal. My hand was in perfect working order. Tentatively I wiggled my fingers, and then moved them faster, playing air chopsticks. I stopped as I recalled the look on Gabriel's face when he'd told me the reason I had to get in the sarcophagus with him.

“Would I have died?” I asked quietly. “You said you didn't know what I'd been given, but you knew what it was doing to me. Would it have killed me?”

“I don't know.”

“But what about my deal—”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but that's a chance I'm never going to be willing to take. I can tell you that if you weren't a Promise, I believe what was in your body was toxic enough to kill you.”

Meaning it would most certainly have killed Anasztaizia.

“Would you have put me in your sarcophagus if I wasn't your Promise?”

“Rowan, the only reason I could even consider it is because you
are
.”

Oh, I hadn't realized that. “And you have no idea what I was given?”

He shook his head. “No, but I'm pretty sure it started out as heroin.”

“Started out?”

He nodded. “Yes, it had been enhanced with some unknown additives.”

“How long was I out for?” I asked.

“I don't know.” Seeing my frown, he went on to explain, “The runes will only keep you for as long as is necessary.”

“Didn't you know what was happening to me?”

“Only vaguely,” he admitted. “Once you were healed, you could no longer remain with me.”

I tapped him on the shoulder, and he rolled over so I could move. Settling on my side, I propped myself up on one arm, mirroring his position. “So how did I get here?” I sure as hell didn't remember walking out of the panic room under my own steam.

“Tomas,” Gabriel said quietly.

My face exploded like a fireball. If I'd been naked going into the sarcophagus, it stood to reason I had also been naked coming out of it. Something I was certain Tomas could not have failed to notice. And Gabriel's apparent nonchalance at his sentinel carrying me, in all my bare-assed glory, from the panic room to the bedroom, seemed completely at odds with what I knew of a vampire's possessive nature. “Tomas?”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded.

“And you're okay with this?” I asked, watching his face carefully.

He sighed. “Had it been anyone else, they would already be dead,” he confessed, “but I trust Tomas with your safety.” His expression turned solemn. “However, if this is going to make you feel uncomfortable, then I will send him away.”

I might not fully understand the role Tomas played in Gabriel's life, but I knew he was bound to Gabriel just as surely as I was. The burden of breaking such a bond was not a weight I was prepared to carry, but I had no idea how I was going to face the sentinel again, knowing he'd not only seen me in my birthday suit, he'd also got a pretty good feel for it.

I growled mentally at my inner bitch.

If that's your idea of helpful—it isn't.

Now that I knew Tomas had played a role in my recovery, there was going to be one extremely awkward conversation taking place in my not-so-distant future.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don't want you to send Tomas away.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel looked relieved, and then another look crossed his face. It was more than just desire, it was a hunger—a need—that could be satisfied only one way. A circle of gold banded the rapidly darkening iris in his eyes. My stomach made a delicious roll, and my heart skipped a beat. “Rowan . . .” My name was a husky groan on his lips, and I watched his bicep flex as he gripped himself beneath the sheet.

My breasts were achy, my nipples hard, and I wanted Gabriel as much as he wanted me. Maybe more. But I needed to make sure that every physical trace of what I'd been through no longer existed. And real or symbolic, there was only one way to do that. Slowly crawling backward off the bed, I crooked my finger, beckoning him to follow me.