In the Dark (5 page)

“That was the plan. But I encountered a bit of…difficulty.”

“Difficulty?” Concern stretched across his features. “That is not a word that should be in your vocabulary, Soren.”

“I wish very much that it wasn't.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sucked in a deep breath. “I found two demons attacking a woman in the streets of Paris.”

Navarre simply sat in the same relaxed pose. Slouched, his knees spread and elbows on the arms of the royal blue chair, he remained still.

“Another attacked me as I made my way back. Three total,” Soren said.

Still Navarre did not move.

After a long moment, he finally spoke. “What does Gustav say?”

Soren hadn't mentioned to anyone that he still spoke to Gustav. How much his lord knew about his city, his people, and the world above continued to amaze him. “Gustav hasn't seen any demons in a full decade. He didn't take their presence well. Needless to say, they are very dead.”

“Alert the Guardians and have several scouts sent to Paris.” His lord set aside his book.

“I'll find Captain Savard immediately,” Soren said as he stood.

“The council will meet in one hour, and you will be there,” Navarre said, leaving him able to do nothing but nod.

Walking to the door, he forced his footsteps into a normal, even pace. He didn't like this urgency he felt. The threat of demons must be setting him on edge. That, or Faith. He feared for her safety, but there was no reason to, not here. Yet he could not deny that he did.

Closing the door to Navarre's rooms behind him, he looked down the hall. Bareth lounged on the pew. Alone.

“Where is she?” he asked, frantically looking around.

Bareth shrugged. “Running.”

“And you didn't stop her?”

“That's Steffen's job.” He stood, stretching his arms over his head.

“You lazy, good-for-nothing…”

Soren sprinted down the hall, following the only path she would know to take.

Chapter 5

A shout rang out behind her, and her heart lurched but she didn't turn. Soren chased after her. He would catch her, without a doubt. She had no illusions of outrunning him, but resisting the impulse to fight for her freedom had been impossible.

Soren's thick arm caught her high around her waist, jolting her to a halt. He spun her around to face him. The anger seething from him gave her the urge to bolt, but he'd trapped her, and she wasn't going anywhere.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are? Guardians have full permission to kill on sight any human running from the city!” Soren roared.

The volume of his scolding kicked her courage into gear. “Stop shouting at me.”

“I can't. I'm yelling at you. And it feels a lot better than thinking about what could have happened.”

Without another word, he took her arm and towed her back to the city. She gauged the distance between the city and where he'd caught her. She hadn't gotten far, and her hopes of freedom died under his tight grasp.

As he pulled her through the entrance, fear tightened her gut, and she stumbled. Steffen stood off to the side, utterly still and watching them in silence, sword drawn and ready. He appeared more than willing to use his sword on her.

Soren took her back the way they'd come. They rushed through the red corridor, but this time he stopped and opened a door, ushering her inside. He closed the door, paced in front of it a few times, then stared at her.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“My home.”

Awkward. She stood in the middle of an angry vampire's living room waiting for him to yell at her.

“Our world is peaceful,” he finally said, his voice deep, sounding as if he restrained himself from shouting at her. “Our world is simple. And yet somehow you manage to do one of the few things guaranteed to get you killed.”

“I could have made it to the woods.” She shrugged.

“On the very unlikely chance my Guardians had not seen you, what would you have done? Run to Paris?”

“No. Just to the car,” she said with a smug smile. “You left the keys in the ignition.”

“I hate that damn car,” he growled at the ceiling before turning on her. “Had you escaped, you would have been reported missing and hunted down. It's not something I would have the power to stop. Too many lives are at stake. You will live here, or you will die. You are mine, Faith. And when you are with me, when you are here in Balinese, you are safe.”

Anger swelled, burning. Arms stiff by her sides, fists clenched, she marched to him, stood toe to toe. “I don't belong to you. You might be forcing me to live here like a prisoner, but I am not yours.” She took great pride in her level voice.

“This is no game, Faith. You belong to me so that you may live,” he said as he studied her face. “I want you to live.”

Biting her bottom lip, she looked away. His reasons had been valid, but they made it difficult to get over her anger. “I wouldn't tell anyone,” she said quietly.

He took several deep breaths before looking straight at her. “It wouldn't matter. I can't risk the lives of thousands. No vampire will. If you escape, you'll be killed. Swear you'll never run from me again.”

“I won't, but I had to try. Wouldn't you?” She wrapped her arms around herself.

He turned away from her and rubbed his jaw. “I can't give you an answer. I have no notion what I would do if I were in your position. I never will.”

“So where do I live?”

“Here. My home is yours,” he said as he walked to the bedroom. Soren stopped as he reached the threshold, his gaze lingering on her as she stood in the middle of his home. “I'll be gone for an hour or so. I have a meeting.”

He disappeared into the bedroom. She didn't follow him, not wanting to invade his personal space. A laughable concept, she supposed, since she now lived smack in the middle of it.

She heard water run, but not the shower. Then hangers shifted. He stepped into the living room, and she was pleasantly surprised. He'd exchanged the black T-shirt for a dark blue collared shirt. If not for the harsh scowl on his face, she might have teased him on how nicely he'd cleaned up.

He glanced her way as he passed her, but didn't pause. “Stay here.”

The door slammed shut, and she didn't waste any time. She planted her butt in the nearest chair and rubbed her eyes, pulling her hair off her face. The attempt at refreshing herself helped, but only a little. Her tired body needed rest, and rightly so. It was morning, and the whole night had been a series of traumas, discoveries, and traveling. She pinched the bridge of her nose briefly, easing the tension that had settled there.

She opened her eyes, and straightened in the chair. On the wall before her, a battle-ax hung at an angle, held up by two large hooks, and to its left, a painting with a lady and a knight on a stairway. Rising, she slowly turned, taking it all in as if in the middle of a museum.

The paintings, large and vibrant, had been separated by weaponry. The innocent romance in several of the paintings countered the harsh edge the unsheathed weapons gave the room. Or maybe the danger was in the man who lived here.

The bedroom took on a similar medieval theme, but here she found no weapons. This room held several works of stained glass art. One imitated a window, the view a lush scene of rolling hills and bright green trees. Beautiful.

Ending her tour was the bathroom. Elegantly designed, with white and gold stripes running from floor to ceiling. She skimmed her fingers over the burgundy shower curtain as she walked out. He wasn't a slob. That was nice. Everything seemed to be in its place. She'd expected the bathroom and kitchen to be trashed.

Stopping short, she counted the rooms suspiciously. Three. No kitchen or dining room. They were missing.

Of course! Vampires wouldn't eat at a table. It would be far more convenient to bite the nearest neck. Great. Now she needed a distraction from the thought of blood drainage.

Snooping through Soren's bureau drawers and under the bed, she didn't find anything to give her a hint about him, or even something to occupy her time. She found nothing. No TV. No radio. The man didn't even own a chessboard. A home with this kind of decor could absolutely use a chessboard.

“I'm going to be bored for the rest of my life,” she said, sighing as she flopped onto the bed.

* * * *

Soren hadn't been called to a meeting before, and would be perfectly happy if he never saw one again. The council consisted of good and wise men, and he understood their necessity, but this sort of thing was not his cup of tea.

It didn't appear as if Captain Savard enjoyed these meetings either. Three seats remained empty for guests and emissaries, but the captain quickly gave up his seat for him. No surprise there. The man did not like being stagnant.

Captain Savard leaned against one of the wooden pillars bracing the walls. No one would suspect that he was the second most powerful man in Balinese. His stature bordered on the definition of short, and unlike the strapping Guardians, he was leanly muscled. His long black hair would touch his jaw line if he didn't keep it swept back from his face. Other than sideburns, he had no facial hair and appeared to be a young man in his early twenties. While his appearance didn't necessarily intimidate, his reputation did.

With the captain abandoning his chair, Soren now sat beside Navarre, who presided over these meetings, his word final, even over the council's decision. Vidor and Julian indulged in the idle conversation of noblemen, seeming not yet aware of his arrival.

Five men resided on the council, and these two had been hand chosen. Vidor Wesleyan was the last of the oldest aristocratic family, and had been on the previous council belonging to Navarre's father. Julian had later been appointed to represent the nobility. Kind, fair, and sensible, Julian remained a favorite among both common man and aristocrat. Navarre chose well when he'd added him to the council.

Bareth, the city's High Justice, had yet to arrive. Like the lord and captain, Bareth's presence was required because of his prominent title.

The double doors burst open, Bareth easily filling the open space.

“And there he is. If you can't make it here when you're called,” Julian teased, hands folded neatly before him, “how the devil do you get to the arena on time?”

“It's my job to be there,” Bareth countered, flopping into the chair beside Soren.

“Yes, but it's your job to show up here as well.” Vidor tried, and usually failed, to keep Bareth in line.

“This isn't nearly as fun as the arena,” Bareth grumbled, then cast a quick smile at Navarre. “Why are we here, my lord? And why is Soren here?”

“He discovered something which needs to be brought under consideration. Soren, speak what you know,” Navarre prompted.

Every man in the room waited for him to open his mouth, and he shifted in his seat. No matter what he said, or how he said it, this conversation had a minute chance of going well. “I went above this night and found two demons attacking a woman in an alley.” As expected, a ripple of murmurs and sneers followed the word
demon
. “I encountered another on the way home. The last knew I was vampire and targeted me.”

“Before we go further, let me inform you that Captain Savard has doubled the Guardians at the gate and sent a few scouts into Paris. We will know soon if more are out there,” Navarre said.

“This is dreadful.” Julian combed his fingers through his long, wavy hair, pulled it away from his face.

“What happened to the woman?” Vidor asked, narrowing his eyes.

“The woman lived and knows what we are. She's mine.” What he'd wanted to be a clear statement had ended up more of a declaration.

Bareth chuckled. “She's a runner, is what.”

“You didn't try to catch her.” He jabbed his finger at Bareth. “You watched her run down the hall.”

“A human attempted escape? Navarre, we cannot allow this,” Vidor protested.

“She didn't get far.” Soren, instantly guarded, shifted his attention to Vidor. “You have the entire city to meddle with. Stay out of my personal affairs.”

Vidor's sharp stare drilled into him, and the nobleman puffed out his chest, ready to battle.

“No human will leave the city,” Captain Savard said, ending the argument. “This is not a concern. Move on.”

“Soren,” Julian said, calm and collected, “you're getting as serious as the good captain. Be at ease. We would not take her from you.” Julian studied him for a brief moment, seeming surprised by his odd behavior.

“The demons weren't after the woman, were they?” Vidor asked, suddenly more anxious than agitated.

“It seemed so at first, but they prefer females. I can't be certain.” Soren shook his head. “Why would they want her for anything other than a meal? She's a tourist. She knew nothing of our city or people until tonight.”

“That doesn't mean she didn't stumble upon something,” Julian suggested.

“I doubt it.” She'd seemed so upset once he'd told her what she'd assumed had been a man had truly been a demon. “She didn't notice their red eyes until I killed the last one. She didn't recognize the creatures, only saw them as cruel men.”

“But if they are after her, more might have followed you here.” Bareth rubbed his chin, pondering his own suggestion.

“Not likely. I took a car,” he admitted, which drew several curious glances.

“Leave her to the demons, let them have her,” Vidor said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“She's human.” Soren pinned him with a sharp and angry stare from across the table.

“Exactly, she's human. The world is full of those expendable creatures. One life for all of ours is a fair trade.” Vidor nodded decisively, as if his logic would be considered supreme rule.

“She's innocent.” Growling, he stood, tensed and ready for a fight. He only waited for Vidor to start one. Faith belonged to him, and he would protect her, from his people if necessary.

Navarre cleared his throat, and Vidor and he stilled, awaiting the lord's judgment. “Vidor, you are right. One life is more than a fair trade to save this city.”

A chill washed over his face as the blood seemed to drain away. Nausea tugged at his stomach. The shock of what Navarre intended to do numbed him. “My lord, you can't possibly mean to—”

“Easy, Soren,” Navarre interrupted, waiting until he sat before continuing. “I would gladly give up one life to keep my city safe. However, we have no proof the demons are truly after her. It could be coincidence. All we're doing is speculating. Both attacks happened only streets apart. Hardly convincing evidence that demons intend to harm her, and only her. More than likely they were pack hunting, just as they used to before we wiped them out. And Soren, you were present at both attacks, but we have yet to say the demons may be after you.”

Grunts of agreement rumbled through the room.

“I don't want to lose sleep and lives over demons again,” Vidor said. “My apologies, Soren. It is not your human woman setting me on edge, but the presence of these demons. They should have been hunted to extinction years ago.”

In complete agreement with Vidor this time, he nodded. He often forgot that Vidor had been alive when demons ran unchecked, and humans hunted both vampire and demon. Granted, being of noble blood, Vidor had never fought in those wars. Though war, on any level, would have made an impact on every vampire, no matter their station.

“Soren?” Navarre leaned forward, his long hair falling over his shoulder, reaching to where his elbow rested on the arm of his chair. “You said she didn't recognize the creature as anything other than man until she saw its eyes. Explain.”

He hesitated, loathed being the bearer of bad news. “They looked human, my lord.”

“What?” Vidor leaned back against his chair, his body slack and his eyes wide, horrified.