Keeping Secret: Secret McQueen, Book 4 (6 page)

“What is your fucking problem?” In previous years, I would never have dreamed of being so coarse with him, but I was getting sick of his surly attitude, and we were technically equals now. But tell that to him and his massive ego, because he still treated me like dirty gum on the bottom of his shoe.

Juan Carlos got close, closer to me than he’d ever been in our seven-year acquaintance. He was mere inches away, and with him standing in front of me, the imposing size of his frame was evident for the first time. For years I’d only seen him seated. In fact, I could only remember seeing him on his feet once before this, and I had suffered too much blood loss to pay much attention to his build. Now with him towering over me—anger coming off him in tangible waves—it was hard to notice anything else.

“
You
,” he spat the word out. “You are my
fucking
problem.” Hearing the profanity spoken in his lingering Spanish accent with his hatred unrestrained in his tone and his rough masculine voice barely able to maintain a whisper, I shuddered.

“I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You exist. That’s bad enough.”

I took a half step back, but he didn’t give me the space I was seeking. He prowled closer, backing me up until I was against the stone wall and had nowhere left to go. I didn’t like moving away from him in the first place, but his proximity made me uneasy, and I wanted some distance in between us. Now, he had me cornered.

“Step back,” I commanded.

He placed one hand on either side of my face and leaned in. If it had been anyone else, I might have taken the move as a come-on and assumed he was trying to kiss me. But there was nothing sexual about what Juan Carlos was doing. It was not lust he was projecting—it was pure menace. In spite of my best efforts to appear fearless, a cold sweat trickled down my back.

“Make me.”

The hair on my arms stood on end. “Are you challenging me?”

He stopped moving at those words. His pupils got huge, blotting out his dark brown irises. For a second I thought he might bite me since the inky blackness filling his eyes was a sure sign of hunger and rage. Instead he balled his hand into a fist and punched the wall beside my head so hard his knuckles were buried in the rock.

“I asked you a question, Tribunal Leader.” I kept my voice steady, but there was no hiding the way my pulse was racing. If he decided to challenge me, I would lose. I had no doubt in my mind.

Juan Carlos lowered his head towards my neck, his nose grazing the thin skin, sending a renewed wave of shivers through my body. I waited for his nose to lift and his teeth to take their place, but it never happened. He took a deep breath, absorbing my scent through my pulse point, then finally took a step back.

“I would never dream of challenging you.” The formality of his tone made it hard to believe that mere seconds earlier he’d had me pinned against the wall with his fangs barred.

“I should hope not.”

It was strictly forbidden within the council for members of the Tribunal to challenge each other. Since the only way to become a member of the Tribunal was to kill someone already on it, to have two members attempt to kill each other wouldn’t do anyone any good. The potential for a power vacuum was too great, and as such it was out of the question for one member to challenge another.

Juan Carlos knew the rules better than anyone. Thankfully, so did I.

“But I would.” He wasn’t looking at me now. Instead he focused on straightening the cuffs of his Armani shirt. When my silence spread past the point of comfort, he proceeded. “If I wasn’t who I am, and he hadn’t forbidden it.”

“He?” I didn’t want to continue this conversation. I didn’t want to be alone in the hall with him a moment longer than I needed to be. But still, there was something compelling about what he said. “You mean Sig?”

“Yes. Your
benefactor
. He is the only reason you’re allowed to keep that precious little pulse of yours.” He looked up, his black eyes bright with contempt.

“Sig… He… I…” I was flustered. I’d always known Sig had a special interest in me, but I’d never understood what it meant. Hearing Juan Carlos tell me that Sig’s attention was the only reason I was still alive was a little jarring. I liked to think there was more to my success in the Tribunal than the threat of its leader.

“Yes.” A cool voice joined us in the hall, though I hadn’t heard the door open. Maybe it hadn’t. “What about Sig?” The man himself was leaning against the wall a few feet behind Juan Carlos. His pale skin glowed slightly in the dim light, his bare chest almost serving as its own milky-white illumination.

“I’m leaving,” Juan Carlos insisted, turning to go, but Sig took a small step away from the wall and barred the way. If Juan Carlos’s physical presence was enough to unnerve me, then Sig’s was enough to make anyone else uneasy. He was over six and a half feet of lean, taut muscle and liquid predatory grace. Seeing Sig move was like watching a wild jaguar hunt.

“We’re having a little chat,” Sig said. “I think it only fair you stay to finish what you started.”

Juan Carlos turned back to me and snarled. “I’d love nothing more than to
finish
it.”

“I see you two are being calm and rational about this…” Sig waved a hand between me and Juan Carlos, “…tension.” He smiled, laughing at his own private joke. Neither Juan Carlos nor I were amused. “Let’s have it out. Juan Carlos, you claim I am the only thing keeping Secret out of an early grave, is that what I am to understand?”

Juan Carlos was hesitant to reply. He watched the Scandinavian master vampire warily before he spoke again, and when he did, his voice was low and empty of its former heat. “Yes.”

“I disagree,” Sig said. “I believe Secret has held her own as a member of our Tribunal. Certainly, my…favoritism had its benefits when she was our hunter, but now she is our equal.”

“She will
never
be our equal.”

“Whether you choose to accept it or not, old friend, she has earned her place here just as you and I have. You must learn to respect her.”

They spoke as if I weren’t there, like parents arguing about how to discipline a naughty child. I wanted to wave my arms and cough loudly to remind them I was still present, but common sense won out. Besides, I was relieved to have Juan Carlos’s attention diverted elsewhere.

“I cannot respect her.”

“You must.”

“You ask too much.”

“No,” Sig said, shaking his head. “You yield too little, and that is your real problem. You are stubborn, and she is stubborn, and together you are two foolish asses with one yoke, pulling each other in opposite directions.”

I began to protest when he called me a foolish ass, but at the first burble of noise from my mouth Sig shot me a warning glance that said more than any words could. Silence would be my best course of action here.

“You cannot expect me to treat her as an equal.”

“I do. And if you cannot, then you are the problem here, not her.” Sig placed a hand on Juan Carlos’s shoulder, but the darker man jerked away, flashing his fangs.

“I said it to her, and I will not say anything different to you. It is only your interest in her that keeps her alive. The moment she no longer captivates your attention,
old friend
, she will cease to be my problem or anyone else’s.”

Sig’s next words were laden with sadness. “I’m sorry to hear you say it. But know this. The girl will
always
be my concern. She will never stop being important to me. Let go of your rage.”

“I will let go of my rage when she no longer has a pulse.” With that, Juan Carlos forced his way past Sig and disappeared down the hall, the echo of his shoes following him the whole way.

Chapter Nine

“You have quite the knack for attracting trouble, my dear.” Sig turned his head towards me and leaned against the wall again. “You bring out an anger in him that has been dormant for centuries.”

“Thanks. I guess.” I rubbed my bare arms self-consciously. “I don’t mean to make him so mad, you know. It’s not like I run around poking bears.”

“Of course not.” His lips quirked up in a good-humored smirk. “You are always innocent. Never tempting fate with an ill-timed remark. Never being the catalyst, the spark that ignites an already dangerous powder keg.”

I frowned and decided to change the subject. I didn’t appreciate his implications. They were too accurate. “Is the session over?” The closed door next to him looked ominous, reminding me of how I used to feel before my meetings with the Tribunal.

“They have some questions for the girl, and then they will deliberate.”

“How does it look for her?” What I feared the most was that my outburst towards Juan Carlos would have a negative impact on Brigit’s chances of becoming a warden. Though she didn’t say it much, I knew the prospect of belonging somewhere appealed to her. I would hate myself if I’d jeopardized her future in any way.

Sig pushed himself off the wall, stepping close and wrapping one arm around my shoulders, tugging me tight against his side. “Who can know what they will decide?” He smiled, rubbing my arm in a friendly, comforting gesture. From Mercedes or Brigit I would have liked it. Coming from Sig, it felt wrong.

“But—”

“She’ll do fine.” There was a finality in the way he said it that made me believe him.

He placed a hand below my shoulder blades and nudged me forward. A man of less substantial height might have grazed my lower back, but somehow Sig’s touch felt just as intimate, his fingers brushing the exposed skin on my back right above where the dress began.

“I want to show you something,” he said, pushing me past the doors. I found myself going without much hesitation. He could soothe anyone simply by being near them, and skin-to-skin contact seemed to enhance his special gift.

“What about Brigit?” A dreamy rasp had snuck into my voice, and I found it faintly embarrassing. It was the voice that should only be heard by a lover in the final moments between passionate lovemaking and the time when sleep sets in. It was not a voice for dark stone hallways.

And it definitely wasn’t a voice I meant for Sig to hear.

I cleared my throat and tried again. “I can’t leave Brigit.”

He smiled, but the gesture did nothing to mask the coolness in his eyes that gave me a chill. “You can and you will.” Then—as quick as it had come—the cold stare was gone, and he was charming, jovial Sig once again. “They’ll be speaking to her for some time. We aren’t going far.”

“Where
are
we going?”

By way of response, he nudged me forward. I guess we were done talking.

For a long time I’d thought the Tribunal chambers were the lowest level of the headquarters, deeper underground than even the subway stations. When I was elevated to my Tribunal seat, I was given the full tour and discovered the building had an unused sub-level deeper yet.

Where Sig took me was lower still, so deep I expected to run into mole people any minute. Or Gollum from
Lord of the Rings
. There was no light save for one torch that flickered low. Not enough oxygen down this far to ignite it properly.

“Are we tunneling to Jersey?” I teased.

“Not quite.”

We stopped in front of a door half as tall as I was, further solidifying my opinion that I’d stumbled into something straight out of the recesses of J.R.R. Tolkien’s mind. A heavy silver padlock was affixed to a heavy silver loop, keeping whatever was inside from getting out, and the whole wooden frame gave off a faint shimmering blue glow.

I turned from the door to look at Sig. “What’s this about?”

“This door can be opened by three people. One of them is dead. Given Juan Carlos’s behavior tonight, I thought it best we make it three again.” He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he waited for me to understand what he was saying.

I understood it all too well. “Who is it?”

“I think you know.”

Fear swelled in my chest. The only reason someone would be held this far below ground, behind such security forces, was if they were bound. I’d wondered once what it meant for a vampire to be bound, why it was considered a punishment worse than death. But now that I was standing outside the door, I didn’t feel so curious anymore. “Say it.”

“I can do better than that.” He pressed his palm flat against the wood, and the door unleashed a hissing noise not unlike the sound of wet wood in a fire. The blue shimmer faded away, making the door look remarkably plain once it was gone.

The moment the light faded my stomach sank. I didn’t want to see behind the door. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but I’m sure it didn’t do anything spectacular for vampires either. Being here, I no longer needed an answer to the questions that had once plagued my mind.

I put my hand on Sig’s arm to stop him, but it was too late. Once the glow abated, the silver lock vanished and the door opened on its own with a soft
pop
. I stepped back and stared at it, my fingers falling away from Sig.

“Just like that?”

“It would not open so easily for any but us. Before we are done here, it will do the same for you.”

“I don’t want to be able to open it.”

“Oh, no?”

I shook my head and stepped back again, far enough I hit the wall opposite the door and was pushed to my physical limit for the second time that night. “I don’t want anyone to be able to open it.”