Ibenus (Valducan series) (21 page)

"It's all right, Gabi," Allan said, his voice that high soothing tone he reserved only for children and animals.

Gabi seemed more interest in her toes.

"So," Matt said adjusting his hold on the infant. "Where were we?"

"I'm in love with Victoria."

Matt just stared at him. Then an amused smile curled at the corner of his lips. "What?"

"I'm in love with her," he repeated, enjoying the sound of it, enjoying telling someone. God, he needed that.

"You've known her a week."

"I know." He licked his lips. "I know how it sounds."

"It sounds flat fuck crazy." He gave an exaggerated grimace and looked down at the baby. "Sorry."

"I know. And if you had told me the same thing a week after you met Luiza I'd have said the same thing to you. Believe me, I know how this sounds."

"Good. Have you told her this?"

"She said it first. We, um, had sex last night."

"Hmm. Okay. I think there's an unwritten rule about doing your apprentice, but saying you're in love…I'd call the screwing the least of the problems."

"I know," Allan said a bit more forcefully than intended. "But just hear me out." He drew a breath. "I've been in love before, at least I thought I was, but that was different. Teenage boy chock-full of hormones, all that. But with Victoria it's…it's so…different. This is more like how I feel with Ibenus than I ever have with a person. I mean, the fact I asked her to be my squire right off was weird, but I just had to. Like, I couldn't
not
do it. You know me. I'm not rash. Does that sound like something I'd do?"

Matt shook his head.

"At first I assumed it was a crush. I was thinking about her all the time. But then last night… When you bonded with Dämoren, like fully bonded after Clay died and you inherited her, did you have this feeling like you were unraveled and then…" he circled his hands, trying to formulate the words, "more entwined when you came back together?"

Matt leaned back, seeming to chew on it. He was probably the worst knight to ask that question to. Matt had bonded as a child when a bullet from the holy revolver lodged in his chest. To save him, Dämoren had done something no other holy weapon had ever done. It possessed him, bonding directly to him instead of simply through the weapon. The angel had once even manifested in Matt, transforming him into the living embodiment of itself. Finally, he said, "Sort of, I suppose. It was kind of like that."

"Have you ever done that with Luiza?"

"No. Well, it's different. I love her. We love each other very much, but the weapon bond is…different."

"So never the unmaking?"

"No," he said, obviously a bit uncomfortable with the subject. "I can feel that she loves me. We do connect."

"I don't doubt that, Matt. But last night, with Victoria, it was that same feeling." He twined his fingers. "We merged. And Ibenus merged as well."

"Ibenus was in bed with you?"

"No! Oh God, nothing like that. She was in the room."

"Oh good. I was about to say…" He had a grimace.

Allan laughed. "But, even then, I could feel her as well. I'm saying that Ibenus was
in
that merging. Spiritually," he clarified.

Matt frowned. "So Ibenus bonded with Victoria?"

"No. At least I don't think so. We haven't talked about it. This morning we got interrupted when that video hit the web."

"Have you told anyone else about this?"

"Just you, mate."

"And Gabi."

"Of course."

"Don't worry. She won't tell." He grinned and kissed his daughter's head. "Will you?"

Gabi peered up at him like she just realized Matt was there.

"Well you need to talk to Victoria," Matt said after a while. "But don't just outright ask about Ibenus. Watch her. Watch how she looks at it. Sidelong glances, maybe a need to touch the blade, anything like that. She might not know if she's bonded, so don't point her that direction. If she is, she'll naturally go there. Got it?"

Allan nodded. "Have you ever heard about anything like this?"

Matt shrugged. "No, but the weapons are all different. My whole life has been a first-case scenario, so who knows. But don't jump to conclusions just yet, man. Let it happen. And for Christ's sake don't let Turgen or Schmidt hear about this."

"Of course not."

"Good. This is dangerous territory, man. You be careful."

#

Victoria zoomed in on a photograph of an arched tunnel burrowed into a low hill, checking it in relation to a street view image in an adjoining browser window. "This one looks promising."

"Which one?" Allan rolled his chair beside hers. The back of his hand found her leg, his fingers giving a subtle caress.

She read the grid points they'd laid over the city map. "Location G 21." Victoria gave him a quick smile and wink. Despite the calamity starting their day, they'd found every opportunity for secret smiles and gestures. Touches, even a few quick, stolen kisses when they were alone and out of view of the mansion's cameras. It felt like primary school. Childish, true, but each moment of affection, given or received, filled her with an unbelievable joy. She'd never felt anything like this before. Though, she did wonder if she had thought that every time she'd felt love but knew it wasn't true. This was something more.

"Got it," Sam said at her own desk. "Oh, this definitely could work."

Allan reached over to Victoria's mouse and zoomed out on the image. "Not the best escape but I definitely like it. We'll put it on the options list."

"Best contender so far," Victoria said.

"As long as there's no high buildings looking down on it," Sam growled.

An angry pang of guilt killed the moment's joy at Allan's touch. Victoria hadn't known Luc was a former athlete. She'd only given his name, all their names, at least the ones she'd gleaned. TommyD's stunt put her at risk. What if they figured out she'd tipped him off? Would they kill her? Would Allan hate her?
Fuck TommyD
. The bastard had known she was still with them, yet he had to flaunt that he knew something about them. Now the world knew and Luc was suffering for it. Luc had been kind to her. He was Allan's friend, and now he was leaving. No seeing his family, just headed off to wherever they decided.

Now she was trapped. She couldn't tell Allan. Turgen already didn't trust her and hearing that she'd shared their information would be the end of her there. No doubt about it at all. Even if she expressed regret, it was still too late. The damage was irrevocable now. She wanted to tell TommyD exactly what he could do with that camera of his, but he had her cold. If she threatened to cut off his intel he could spill everything he already had and the Valducans would know she betrayed them. She glanced at Sam. Her friend. Sam who forgave her and made Victoria laugh with her stupid jokes and funta and whispered confidences. No telling how many pictures TommyD had of her in the van.

You really screwed this one up, didn't you
? If she'd just waited to make her report, waited until she'd gotten to know them, to
know
Allan and Sam or Luc she'd have done it different. But it was too late now.

Allan gave her leg a quick squeeze before he rolled back to his monitor.

She smiled at him and he winked. Maybe he'd understand. If she couldn't stay, would he leave with her? They could go back to England together. Hell, they could go anywhere they wanted, just the two of them. They—

Ibenus' hilt glinted at Allan's belt. There'd never just be the two of them.
It
would always be the barrier. The other woman. Any fantasy of Allan running away with her withered to dust as she eyed the smooth golden metal sandwiched between black wood grips, seeming to call her hand. Last night she'd noticed how beautiful the bronze weapon truly was, but Allan's…obsession with it. He'd never run away with her. He'd say that Ibenus wouldn't let him. A sword. She'd lose him to a bloody sword.

Ibenus wouldn't betray him, either.
The bitter words rang through her head.
Fuck TommyD
.

Victoria licked her lips. She needed to focus. Dreaming of running off with Allan or pounding TommyD's head in wouldn't help. She needed to keep him from posting anything else. Get him to back off. There was no chance he'd stop altogether, but maybe for a little while, long enough for her to gather herself. She could tell him they suspected her.

But he might just tell her to leave. No, she needed time. Time and an excuse why the updates would stop.

She sipped her cold tea and leaned back, mind racing. Her gaze passed over the open weapon vault. The weapons. She'd tell him she was reaching the inner circle. Say that she would get a weapon. That'd shut him up. 'Don't blow my cover, I'm about to get access to the prize.' Yeah, that could do it. Slip him right into her pocket until she could figure out what to do about him. She'd keep the message short, rushed, say she might be off the radar and not to make waves until he heard from her again.

There. Victoria grinned, staring at the screen with the G 30 entrance but not seeing it. She just needed a few minutes alone to send the message.

The library door opened, breaking her train of thought. Victoria looked up as Master Schmidt stepped inside. A man carrying a metal briefcase followed closely behind. Tattoos traced up his dark tanned arms, disappearing beneath the rolled up sleeves. A machete with white carved handle hung at the waist of his jeans.

"Mal!" Sam said, springing to her feet.

"Hey there." He gave her a one armed hug lifting her off her feet as she wrapped her arms around him.

"If it isn't the prodigal son." Allan rose and gave him a strong hug. "It's good to see you."

"You too, brother." He patted Allan on the back. "How have you been?"

"Busy." Allan turned to Victoria who was rising from her chair. "I want you to meet my apprentice, Victoria Martin. Victoria, this is Doctor Malcolm Romero, protector of Hounacier."

Mal looked at Victoria, then back to Allan. He smirked as if about to say something but decided against it. He extended his hand. A bright orange and blue tattooed eye filled his palm. "Pleasure to meet you."

She shook his hand. "Likewise. I've heard a lot about you."

He grinned. "Hope it wasn't all bad."

"Not all of it."

"So what's this about?" Sam flicked at the short black ponytail high on the back of Malcolm's head.

"That? Tasha asked me to grow it out again, so I'm giving it a shot. Finally long enough to pull back. It's been driving me nuts, falling into my eyes."

Sam frowned, almost imperceptibly. "I like you better without it."

"If I could still grow one, I would." Schmidt ran a hand across his wispy gray hair. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

"So what's this I hear of you getting engaged?" Allan asked. "You plan on inviting us or is it some voodoo-only affair?"

"We're not exactly engaged yet," Malcolm said. "Just talking about it. She's…working it out."

"Oh."

"You know how it is." Malcolm touched the machete's hilt. "Relationships are difficult for our kind."

A bitter knot pulsed in Victoria's stomach.

"Yeah," Allan said casually, seeming to laugh it off but the words still stung. He glanced uncomfortably to Victoria.

"So what's in the case, Mal?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"This?" He lifted it up and set it on the table. "Little housewarming gift." He removed a key from his pocket and unfastened the twin locks. "Now you need to treat this thing like it's plutonium or a canister of mustard gas."

"Oh, you didn't?" Allan's eyes widened like a kid finding a Christmas pony under the tree.

Malcolm thumbed the latches and opened the case. Expecting a weapon or some form bomb, Victoria scrunched her nose at seeing a white marble mask glaring hatefully back at her. It was a woman's face, her mouth open impossibly wide, revealing a pair of long slender fangs. Stainless steel bars enclosed it like a wicket-keeper's face mask with one rod coming up through the open mouth, making it impossible to remove without cutting it.

Allan's fingers moved toward it, then seemed to think better of it. "Lamia?"

Malcolm nodded. "She'd been lurking around New Orleans since the time of Lafitte. Found out about her last year during that…incident. Managed to track her down." He pulled the tightly-packed foam from around the weird sculpture. The bars connected to a black enameled metal plaque.

"Niriffo?" Sam asked, reading the single word engraved along the bottom.

"That was her name," Malcolm said. "Real nasty bitch, too. Spitter. Had a pair of ghouls under her. It'd been a hell of a lot easier to just have killed her but trapping one, especially a breed that powerful, was a rare opportunity. Don't expect me to try that again."

Schmidt reached in and touched the bars. "This is phenomenal."

"Hold on," Victoria said. "Trapped?"

"The demon is inside it," Malcolm said. "It can't escape unless you put it on, hence the cage. Breaking it will release the spirit, but it won't have a body to go to. Dangerous as hell, so it'll require a dedicated security system."

"We will start on that at once," Schmidt said, his fingers still tracing along the bars.

"But why trap it?" Victoria asked.

"Because it's the best damned ward made," Malcolm said. "No demon can even get close to it. The obsidian ghoul masks had a range of about fifteen feet. But this thing, I'm guessing double that. Mount it before the entrance or the weapon vault and no one that's demon-corrupted will get through."

"But it's alive in there?"

"Yeah."

Victoria sneered, meeting the mask's loathsome stare. "I think it would have been better to have killed it."

Malcolm gave Allan a grin. "I like her." He looked back at Victoria. "These things are bad news. If Master Turgen hadn't specially requested it, I wouldn't have made it. But aside from holy weapons, these are the best weapons we have."

"Is this for Paris, then?"

"No," he laughed. "No, this needs to stay here. It's too fragile and far too dangerous to take in the field."

Good
, she thought. The bloody thing was creepy as hell. It was as if those hateful white eyes were boring directly into her, cursing her. Then something clicked.
New Orleans
. She looked at the machete on Malcolm's belt, then the tattoos. "You're the Machete Man. From the video."