Darkness Clashes (30 page)

Sayer, Kerbasi, and Kariann followed behind us as we walked through a set of high double doors to enter the house. A large hall stretched from the front of the house to the back and had a grand staircase leading up to the second floor. We were directed to a side room where we waited to be introduced. Other than a few antique wooden chairs and a side table, nothing else was in there.

“Is this the original layout of the house?” I asked Lucas.

He kept his gaze forward. “No, Theirn expanded the back of the house and added the ballroom later.”

“And he had some of the outbuildings turned into guest homes,” Kariann added from behind me. “They’re small, but he fixed them up so they look nice.”

I glanced back at her. “What did he do with the rest?”

“Humans still live in them as groundskeepers, maids, and cooks. They double as blood sources for the vampires.”

Some things never changed in the supernatural world.

The line moved forward and we stepped through a doorway on the opposite end of the room. A large ballroom opened up that could have easily been the size of a basketball court. White marble tile graced the floors, and massive chandeliers—with candles—hung from the ceiling.

My senses buzzed with the sheer number of powerful guests already present in the room and more arriving behind us. I had the overwhelming urge to rub my head, but resisted when I saw how many pairs of eyes were focused on us.

“Lucas of Pistiros and his mate Melena Sanders,” a middle-aged werewolf announced. At least he kept it short.

We moved off to the side and Kerbasi stepped up to the limelight next.

“Purgatory guardian—Kerbasi,” the werewolf announced.

Gasps and whispers spread throughout the room. The man in question gave a bow and preened before them until the announcer cleared his throat. I grabbed Kerbasi and pulled him over to where Lucas and I stood.

“Don’t be an ass,” I whispered.

He gave me a condescending look. “I am not sure how I have any relation to a donkey.”

“You’re drawing too much attention to yourself. We talked about this.”

“They fear me. I can hear it in their thoughts. I shall not pretend I’m of no consequence among such inferior beings.”

“I’ll show you an inferior being.” Lucas leaned in close to his face, eyes glowing bright. “When I’m done the birds you favor so much won’t find enough of you to get a full meal.”

Kerbasi scoffed. “I highly doubt that.”

Lucas pulled a glass vial from of his pocket. “Do you see this? It is very similar to the acid you once used on me and I’ve got several more like it. If you do not behave yourself, I’m certain I can obtain volunteers to hold you down while I pour it on you.”

Damn. He’d come prepared. I was hoping my wit and quick thinking would be enough to keep the guardian in line. It usually worked. Sort of.

Kerbasi pulled on his tux jacket and took a look around. Everyone within ten feet of us had stopped what they were doing to listen in on our conversation. I could have sworn one of the vampires raised his hand as a volunteer, but he might have just been scratching his nose.

“Very well.” The guardian inclined his head. “I shall cooperate, but only because I wish to observe these savages in their natural element.”

Theirn made his way through the observers. As soon as they noticed him, they parted to allow him through. Like most men he was wearing a tux, but his was deep burgundy. He’d also left his white-blond hair down to flow about his face. I wouldn’t have guessed a guy could pull off the look that well, but he did. Many women’s eyes lingered on him as he came to stand before us.

“Lucas, I’m glad you and Melena could attend.” He embraced the nephilim in a manly hug. Supernaturals sure were a touchy-feely bunch.

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” Lucas pulled away.

Another presence came from behind me. Because this reunion couldn’t possibly be complete without a demon-angel hybrid in the mix. His shoulder brushed against mine as he joined the men.

“It’s been a long time.” Yerik said, slapping Lucas on the shoulder. “At least seven or eight hundred years, if I recall correctly.”

The daimoun had foregone the standard tux and still wore his kilt. Though to be fair, he’d put on a heavy silver necklace with a medallion and he’d switched to a pair of black leather boots that looked expensive. His brown hair had even been pulled back in a queue.

“Too long.” Lucas’ face broke out into a smile. “I hadn’t expected to see you here.”

“Exile grew tedious,” the daimoun answered, shaking his head. “I thought it was time to get back out in the world, especially when I heard you’d found a mate.”

Lucas put a hand on my waist. “Allow me to introduce you to Melena.”

Yerik turned and met my eyes, showing no sign of recognition. “Charming. You must tell me how you managed to make her immortal. I was afraid to do it for my own mate and now I fear our chance may have passed.”

Theirn put his arms around both men’s shoulders. “How about we take this conversation to a more comfortable setting. I’ve got drinks set up in my office.”

“I’ll return shortly,” Lucas said, giving me a brief kiss. “Remember what I told you.”

“I remember.”

“Good.” He followed Theirn and Yerik to a side door in the ballroom.

I watched the men go and hardened myself. Lucas had said to mingle with the other guests and show no signs of fear. I wasn’t like other new immortals who were given time to adjust and build their powers. Some of the guests could be tempted to challenge me now.

If I wanted to avoid Lucas having to come to my rescue every time I was outmatched, I had to put up a strong front from the start. No more hiding in Fairbanks or behind more powerful supernaturals. I’d been given the tools and needed to learn how to use them. Still, it would have been nice to have at least a century or so to grow into my immortality before having it tested by sups considerably stronger than me.

“Is that where I can get a drink?” Kerbasi asked, pointing across the room.

I followed his gaze to a refreshments table and bar in the corner. Several attendants worked to keep up with the demand for champagne and wine. An open doorway behind them led to a dark room. My senses picked up vampires in there and, if I had to guess, humans as well.

“It is. Why don’t you go get something?”

“I believe I will.” He paused. “Do try not to get yourself killed while I’m gone. I’d hate to miss it.”

He strolled off through the crowd.

“You’re Melena, are you not?” a female voice asked from behind me.

I turned to find a beautiful brunette with her hair cut in an a-line bob standing there. She was around my height of five and a half feet and wore a red silk dress that hugged her svelte figure in all the right places. My senses pegged her as a vampire and about thirteen hundred years old.

“I am,” I answered. “And you are?”

“Genevieve.” We exchanged cheek kisses. She pulled away to take my hands. “It is unfortunate we haven’t had a chance to meet before, but you may know me as the master for Anchorage and a neighbor to you.”

My brows drew together. “Doesn’t your territory usually keep to itself?”

“Out of necessity, yes.” She gave me a thin smile. “A few years ago we had some trouble and had to expel much of our supernatural population. Only vampires and witches remain now. I’ve heard you’re having problems of your own in Fairbanks. How is that going?”

From what I’d heard, they were purists over in Anchorage. They didn’t like mixing with werewolves and fae the way other territories did.

“It’s under control now,” I answered, resisting the urge to free my hands.

“Well, if you ever wish to relocate…” She squeezed my palms. “We’d be willing to make an exception and welcome you to our city.”

My mind raced, searching for something diplomatic to say. As far as I was concerned, Fairbanks was my city and I wouldn’t leave it no matter what problems might come up. No need to start offending people, though.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that under consideration.” I gave her a polite smile.

“You do that.”

She finally let go of my hands and wandered off.

I met a handful of masters from other cities over the next hour and received two more offers similar to the one Genevieve had given me. Whatever their motivations might have been, I had no idea. The vast majority of supernaturals I ran across weren’t nearly as welcoming. I received numerous looks of scorn and many of them moved away if I came close. There’d never been a time where I felt more alone while surrounded by a crowd of people.

“Melena,” Lucas said, putting a hand on my back. “Dance with me.”

Some of the tension riding my shoulders relaxed. I finished the wine I’d been drinking and set the glass on a nearby table. He guided me out to the dance floor and I put my arms around his neck. It was a slow dance and the perfect way for us to talk.

“So what did Theirn want?” I asked.

Lucas’ eyes clouded. “We were discussing my brother. Theirn and Yerik offered their thoughts on where I might go now that I’ve concluded my search in Chicago.”

That familiar lump rose in my throat. He had no idea he was being manipulated and it was possible Theirn was in on it, too. If Yerik wanted to succeed in his revolution, he’d need as many leaders at his side as possible. Which led me to another thought.

Was he behind the problems in Fairbanks? Considering he was mated to a sensor it didn’t seem likely he’d be against Nik, but maybe he’d tried to bring the master vampire in on the plan and when he failed he’d decided to get him out of the way. Nik could still be hiding a lot from me. It wasn’t as if I’d known to ask about Yerik when we’d talked before.

“What did they suggest?” I asked, returning to the subject Lucas brought up. I couldn’t afford to let him see my anxiety.

“New York. Zoe has a home there and visited it regularly before we captured her. It’s possible she has people there who might have helped her hide Micah.”

And put him even farther from me. Flashing long distances drained his power and took time to regenerate. It was one of the reasons I didn’t get to see him that often. If he went to New York I’d see even less of him, which could be part of Yerik’s plan. Maybe the daimoun was worried I’d make Lucas suspicious with all our plotting.

“Are you sure that’s—”

The sound of clashing steel came from the patio and we swung our heads toward it. Several large open doors led out there, but I couldn’t see anything through the throng of people in the way. My senses gave me a good idea of what might be the cause, though. Kerbasi.

Chapter Thirty-one

We squeezed through a circling crowd of onlookers, catching sight of Kerbasi and Yerik dueling on the wide stone patio. Tables and chairs had been pushed out of the way to make room. It wasn’t until I reached the front that I got a full look at the combatants.

The guardian was wearing a pair of white underwear that hugged his butt and I got a full frontal view of Yerik, confirming he had no problems pleasing his mate. Blood and wounds covered them both, but their strong musculature was still apparent.

“Why are they fighting with no clothes on?” I asked Lucas.

He gave me an amused look. “To avoid damaging them, of course.”

Right. Why didn’t the army think of that? Forcing us to wear those bulky uniforms and heavy armor while the Middle Eastern sun shined down, baking us alive. We could have just gone naked and saved the taxpayers tons of money.

Kerbasi slashed his sword at Yerik, skimming him across the stomach. There was already so much blood on him it was hard to tell how deeply he’d cut. The daimoun returned the favor by hacking into Kerbasi’s left arm. I winced. It had torn through the muscle and struck the bone. The limb hung at his side, useless for the moment. The guardian still had his sword arm, but it would reduce his maneuverability.

More people came outside to watch the fight and crowded around us. My senses determined that over three-quarters of the guests had abandoned the ballroom for the bloodier entertainment. Lucas and I stood shoulder-to-shoulder to keep anyone from separating us.

The two combatants went through another series of slices and dices at each other. None of them serious, but I sensed the strain growing on Kerbasi. He was fighting a man who was older than him by five hundred years and stronger—considering his lineage. Their power levels weren’t too far off in the scale of things, but I doubted the guardian had as much battle experience.

Kerbasi’s black hair clung to his face as he went in for another strike. With his sword raised high, he came down straight on Yerik’s head. At the last moment, the daimoun spun out of the way so the blade merely glanced off his shoulder, cutting a chunk of his skin off. He continued the spin and did a full turn, keeping his sword low.

The point of it extended out far enough that when it reached Kerbasi it sliced across both of his legs. He went crashing to the ground, losing his sword in the process. Blood spurted everywhere and I caught a glimpse of his thigh bones. He lay there, looking up at his opponent.