Nightbound (37 page)

BOOK: Nightbound

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Korvel knew exactly why the child had come to him. She must have been just on the verge of puberty; his
ability to influence female mortals never affected the very young. “I am well, thank you.”

“You are a Viking, no?” The girl darted a look over her shoulder. “My
maman
said you look like one, which made my papa very mad. But I think you are more like the beautiful angels.”

Korvel glanced around the room and saw he had gained the avid attention of the child’s mother and every other female in the place. He’d made a serious error shedding so much scent to influence the waitress, for he had not considered that the cold air outside might have acted as a natural barrier at the ventilation points. His scent saturated the inside air now. If he did not leave at once, all of the women would come over to his table, drawn to him like moths to a burning lantern.

“I must go now and continue my journey.” He managed a smile for the little girl. “
Au revoir,
my sweet.”

“Take me with you.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Please.”

He could not explain to her that what she felt would disappear as soon as he departed, but he would not see her suffer even a few seconds. “What is your name?”

“Tasha.”

“Tasha.” He touched his hand to the side of her little neck, where the connection of his will to her mind was the strongest. “Go back to your parents. Forget me. Be happy.”

“Go. Forget. Happy.” She turned like a sleepwalker and shuffled away.

Quickly Korvel took out enough euros to pay for a case of wine and dropped them on the table before he rose to his feet. The habits of many lifetimes compelled
him to attend to one final detail: the memories of madame and the waitress, who intercepted him at the door.

As they were both already bespelled, he had only to command them. “You will attend to your work and your patrons. Once I am gone, you will forget me. It will be as if I never came here.”

The women spoke in monotone unison. “Attend. Work. Gone.”

Korvel left the restaurant, checking the street to ensure it was empty. As the chill of a dark wind streamed against his coat, he turned his head to look back through the front window and saw the waitress taking an order from an older couple. Madame stood once more behind the counter, her expression no longer as sour as it had been when he had walked into the place. For them he no longer existed; he had never existed.

He envied them.

In all the centuries Korvel had lived since rising from his grave to walk the night, he had never considered his own memory to be anything but useful. Indeed, every bit of knowledge he acquired he carefully added to, stockpiling all he knew like weapons. Now he would gladly empty his head of all of it, if it meant he could forget forever what had been. What would never be.

You’re supposed to love me.

He had put so much practice into banishing Alexandra Keller’s voice from his thoughts that he could silence her in an instant. Her scent, however, still haunted him. But no, what filled his head came on the wind, scoured from acres of blooming lavender. Provençal farmers grew so much of the fragrant herb for the wine and perfume
industries that one couldn’t drive a mile without passing one of the vivid amethyst fields.

He walked down the deserted street to the spot where he had parked the gleaming black Audi he had rented in Paris. Most of his kind preferred to travel on horseback rather than by automobile, and many refused to learn how to drive, but the demands of serving his master had forced him to make regular use of modern technology. A horse had to be frequently rested, fed, and watered on a long journey; the car required only brief stops for petrol.

As he took out the keys to the vehicle, Korvel stared at them. As the first Kyn ever to be made seneschal, Korvel had set the standard for all the others, one that had yet to be fully matched. He had personally trained every warrior who had ever served in the high lord’s garrison, and had taught his methods to the captains of other
jardins
around the world. His unwavering loyalty to the high lord had earned him a spotless reputation as the most trusted and valuable second among all the territories. None would be shocked to learn that he had been sent to France to attend to his master’s wishes and retrieve a priceless artifact before it fell into the wrong hands.

To serve Richard again, this time as his errand boy.

Korvel did not succumb to sudden and bizarre urges; nor did he intend to start. He would never turn his back on his duty to walk into the shadows and disappear into the night. Such a thing would violate his oath and break faith with his master, and his honor forbade him to behave in such a cowardly manner.

But oh, how he wished he could.

As he unlocked the car, he could imagine the keys
dropping from his hand to the ground. As he got in and started the engine, the sound of grass brushing against his trousers whispered in his ears. As he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, he could feel on his skin the fearful silence that would fall over the forest creatures as they witnessed his departure from the world of Kyn and man to enter their peaceful realm.

It would be so simple. So uncomplicated. And there, where no one could command him, the loneliness and despair would do their final work.

“Turn around,” a muffled voice ordered from his pocket.

Korvel removed the GPS, which he had switched off in the restaurant, and tried it again. The screen displayed his current position as being in the middle of nothing. As he reached to reprogram it, the screen blanked.

He swore softly as he shifted the Audi into drive and executed a three-point turn. The faster he reached Garbia and retrieved the scroll, the sooner he could return to the island, and his duties, and the sanity they preserved.

O
THER
N
OVELS BY
L
YNN
V
IEHL

Lords of the Darkyn

Nightborn

Nightbred

The Kyndred Series

Shadowlight

Dreamveil

Frostfire

Nightshine

The Darkyn Series

If Angels Burn

Private Demon