Cain's Identity (Scanguards Vampires Book 9) (2 page)

Blood. Blood coming from his skull. He brought his hand up and felt the hole there. Blood gushed from it.

“No!” she screamed. “No! Don’t leave me!”

He couldn’t see her face anymore, and suddenly his hands were gripping nothing, as if she had slipped from his grasp. He searched for her in the darkness, but all he felt was a void. Despair. Hopelessness.

Was he dead?

“Nooooooo!” Cain screamed.

But she didn’t answer him. She was gone.

Suddenly his vision cleared and a light source drew his attention. Something blinked in red. He focused his eyes. Numbers appeared before them. 07:24. He stared at the apparition. It took a second to realize that he was looking at a digital clock.

Cain shot up to a seated position.

Gone was the room he’d been in, replaced by a bedroom with little personal effects. No opulence. No luxury. Just a simple bedroom with a large bed, a dresser, and a chair with casual clothes somebody had tossed onto it. No tuxedo in sight.

Cain ran a shaky hand through his ultra-short hair and realized he was bathed in sweat.

Regret filled him. It had been a dream, all of it: the woman, the room, the blood.

Nothing was real. Just like Cain himself. Because how could he be real when he didn’t remember anything about his past?

For several months now he’d had these dreams. Different ones, but all involving the same woman, and all ending the same way: with blood gushing from his head. As if they were a warning somebody was trying to send him. Or a message from the past.

Cain swung his legs out of bed and shook his head. Wishful thinking! A little over a year ago he’d woken up one night without a memory. All he remembered was a male voice.
Your name is Cain,
the man had said.
As much as he’d tried to find out about his past, he’d come up empty.

The dreams were haunting him, dangling pieces of information in front of him, yet never letting him get close enough to grab one and examine it. It had made him irritable and unpredictable. His colleagues at Scanguards, where he worked as a bodyguard, had started noticing and avoided him whenever he was in one of his dark moods.

And just now, one of those dark moods was washing over him, lashing despair and hopelessness at him like a torturer whipping him with a flogger. Pain crippled his body and made him want to inflict the same pain on others. But there was nobody on whom to let out his anger.

A ringing sound suddenly pierced the silence of his bedroom. He turned to the bedside table and reached for his cell phone.

“Yeah?”

“Where the fuck are you?” The deep, pissed-off voice belonged to Amaury, one of his superiors at Scanguards.

Rage boiled up in Cain. He didn’t like Amaury’s tone, nor did he like being questioned about his whereabouts. He hated being ordered around.

“What the fuck do you want?” Cain replied, raising his voice.

“You’re supposed to be patrolling tonight!” Amaury growled. “And don’t take that fucking attitude with me. I’m your boss!”

Cain jumped up and slammed his fist into the drywall, leaving a dent there. “I need no boss! I’m my own master!” The moment he said it, he knew it was true. He wasn’t used to having anybody tell him what to do. He was used to giving the orders.

On the other end of the line, Amaury breathed heavily before giving his response. “Fine! You wanna have it out, once and for all? I’m sick of your attitude lately. I think it’s time we had a chat so you understand who’s in charge here.”

The way he spoke made it clear to Cain that this would be a very physical kind of chat.

“My place. In ten minutes, or you’re on your own.”

“You got it!” Cain responded to the open challenge.

A fist fight with the linebacker-sized vampire was just what he needed right now. Maybe then he’d feel better.

2

The winter garden was as beautiful at night as it was deadly during the day. Encased in bulletproof glass on three sides, it provided no shelter from the sun.

Faye looked up at the starry sky above the glass roof. Was he watching her from somewhere up there? Or were vampires doomed to burn in hell when they met with the true death?

She couldn’t remember how often she’d stared up at the night sky asking herself these questions ever since his death. Every time she did, she felt the same kind of longing, the same kind of emptiness. But life had to go on. She knew that. The time for mourning was almost at an end.

Footsteps made her aware that she wasn’t alone anymore. Even before she turned, she knew who had entered the winter garden from the house. Well, it couldn’t really be called a house. It was a palace.

Faye inclined her head slightly, before lifting her eyes to her visitor. “Your Majesty.”

“Faye, Faye, how often have I told you that between us there’s no formality. I’m still Abel to you. Always will be. Besides, I’m not king yet.”

“Of course.” She allowed her eyes to roam over him. There were days she could barely look at him, so much did he remind her of the man she’d lost. The man she’d loved.

Abel pointed to a bench, motioning her to sit there with him. She took a seat, and he joined her.

“I’ve come to talk to you.”

Her stomach instantly clenched. She knew what this was about. She’d counted the days too, though for other reasons than he had.

“We all miss him,” Abel started.

Faye pressed her lips together, suppressing the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her and rob her of the ability to think clearly. She had to remain strong.

“The time is nearly up.”

She nodded. “One year, one month, and one day. I marked it on my calendar.” Though she didn’t have to. She would always remember the horrible day when she’d been robbed of the love of her life.

“Yes, in less than two weeks his official reign will end, and the new king will be crowned.”

“I’ve never really understood why there is such a long period after the death of one king before his successor can take the throne,” Faye said to fill the air between them with words.

Abel reached for her hand, clasping it. She shuddered internally, but let it happen. He would be her king soon, and her destiny lay in his hands. The privileges she’d enjoyed as the dead king’s fiancée would expire at the new king’s coronation. She would lose her home, her standing in their society, her influence. Though nothing mattered much to her anyway. Only love for the vampires who would have been her subjects, had her fiancé lived, had made her stay. Otherwise, she would have left the clan altogether.

“It’s meant to give the people time to grieve without having to pledge their allegiance to the new king while they still mourn the old,” Abel explained.

“It must be hard for the king-in-waiting, though.”

“As regent, I already have many of the powers the king has. And it gives me a chance to get to know my subjects better and find out what they want from me.” He raised her hand toward his face. “Or what I want from them.”

Faye’s breath hitched. “Yes, yes, of course.” She rose, making him drop her hand, and walked to a raised flowerbed. She reached for shears and started to prune the plants.

Since that horrible day over a year ago, no man had touched her. And the thought of another man’s hands or lips on her sent panic shooting down her spine. She knew she had to do something about that, but tonight wasn’t the right time.

Behind her, Abel rose from the bench. She heard his footsteps as he approached her.

“Decisions have to be made. As you know, soon—”

“I know,” she interrupted him. “I have been thinking about it. I’m preparing myself to leave.” She would be without protection once again. The last time that had happened she’d fallen prey to the cruelest of vampires.

When Abel’s hands clasped her shoulders from behind, she sucked in a breath, trying to calm herself.

“I didn’t come to ask you to leave. I came to ask you to stay.”

Faye turned her head halfway. “But clan law is clear on it.”

“I don’t give a damn about clan law. In two weeks,
my word
will be law.”

Surprised at his sharp tone, her heart rate doubled instantly. She knew he would sense it. A vampire’s hearing was sensitive enough for it. Besides, his hands still lay on her shoulders, and by touching her he would not only feel her heartbeat, but also perceive the blood that rushed through her veins like a runaway train.

“Forget what I said,” Abel added quickly. “This isn’t about the law. It’s about you. You were meant to be queen. The members of our clan love you. Your dream doesn’t have to end with my coronation.”

The implication of his words sank in immediately. When he turned her to face him, she wanted to avoid his gaze, but out of respect for the position he held she didn’t.

His dark eyes looked at her with an intensity she’d always loved about his brother. But in Abel, it scared her. Or was she simply scared because it meant she would finally have to admit to herself that it was time to move on and let go of the memories she treasured, the memories of true love?

“I need a queen. A woman like you, one who is loved by her subjects. I know I’m not like him. I could never be the just leader he was. But with you by my side, with you guiding me to show me what he would have done in my stead, I can be a good king. I need you.”

Faye searched his eyes, trying to see past his words, past the face he showed her. Did he mean it? Did he really need her in order to be the kind of king their vast clan needed? And could she truly help him be that man? Was that her calling? To be queen, so he could be king?

Her chest lifted as she took a breath. “I don’t know, Abel. I loved your brother.”

Abel pressed a finger to her lips. “And he loved you. He would want this for you. He would want you to have what was meant to be yours. He would want you to move on and be happy again. To see you smile again. I remember that smile. But I haven’t seen it for so long.”

She lowered her lids and nodded. “It is hard to get over the death of someone so . . . ” She couldn’t even continue her thought, nor say his name, without risking dissolving into tears.

“Give me a chance,” Abel said gently.

“This is all so unexpected. I need time to think about it,” she answered quickly, desperate to buy herself some time and at the same time not offend him. This was a decision she couldn’t make, not without thinking about the consequences. She didn’t love Abel. He was in so many ways not like his brother. Where his brother had been kind and lenient, Abel was harsh and stern. Their personalities couldn’t be more different from each other.

Faye wanted to scream, to lament that the wrong brother had died. If only that night she’d not let him out of her arms. Then he would still be alive. He would still be king, and she would be his blood-bonded mate and his queen.

“Do it for the clan, if not for me.”

Faye looked past him, her eyes peering into the darkness beyond the palace she lived in. It was vast, a huge structure built like a fortress, impenetrable and awe-inspiring. A large palace for a large clan, one that encompassed all of Louisiana and spilled over its borders. A clan so secretive, yet influential way beyond its physical boundaries, that few vampires outside knew of its existence. All previous kings had wanted it that way, knowing that in anonymity lay safety.

The old ways were still strong within the clan. The laws they lived by had been passed down from their founders, though the living accommodations were modern and the castle—tucked away in a remote wooded area north of New Orleans—was equipped with state-of-the-art security. Just as it behooved a king. Guards and other key members of the clan lived in the palace, while in buildings surrounding the well-kept grounds, other vampires made their home.

Faye’s eyes drifted back to Abel. “You deserve a mate who loves you.”

He smiled. “I’ll settle for one who may one day
learn
to love me.”

She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“We could be crowned together in two weeks if you say yes.”

She swallowed hard. “I’ll give you my answer. Soon.”

Then she turned quickly and rushed through the open door into the corridor beyond. She almost collided with somebody and looked up in shock.

“Apologies, Faye,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“John, uh, you didn’t,” she lied, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.

John was tall and broad, a strong vampire with a fast hand and a quick mind. It was those qualities that had made him the leader of the king’s elite guard, the small hand-selected group of vampires who guarded the king and queen.

But John had failed guarding his king. Under his watch, the king had been assassinated. When Faye had seen the telltale ash and the signet ring on the floor—the remains of her lover—she’d accused John of neglecting his duty. He’d hung his head, accepting her hateful words in stoic silence, never even attempting to offer an excuse or apology.

She’d never understood why Abel hadn’t punished John. Had she been in the position to give orders, she would have demanded John’s execution for his failure to keep the king safe.

For a moment, she paused. Maybe Abel had a kinder heart than she gave him credit for, and she was the one who was bad for wishing to punish the leader of the king’s guard.

3

Amaury not only lived in one of the shabbiest neighborhoods of San Francisco, he owned an entire apartment building there, the penthouse of which he and his human mate, Nina, called home. When Cain had once asked his fellow vampire why he’d bought the property, Amaury had said that nobody else had wanted it and it had come cheap.

Cain now looked up at the six-story apartment building and noticed the light coming from the top floor. A broad shadow moved in front of one of the large windows, then a smaller one joined and the two melted into one figure. A second later they retreated from the window.

Cain didn’t have to wait long. It appeared that Amaury was just as eager to get this over with as he was. The sound of an opening door drifted to his ears, and an instant later Amaury emerged.