Possession of Souls (12 page)

I was surprised at his interjection, but I didn’t move my gaze away from the trees that rushed by outside my window, and the car fell back into silence.

After two hours of driving we entered Little Rock and began making our way through the city freeways and traffic toward the airport until we were finally able to exit off the 440 toward the terminal.

The car dropped us off curbside, and the driver loaded our luggage onto a cart and called for a baggage handler to escort us to the waiting ticket counters inside. 

“What?  No private jet this time? Are we slumming it?” I couldn’t help the sarcasm that dripped from my voice.  I couldn’t image any reason why Damien would stoop to using public transportation.

Damien ignored me and waved his hand in dismissal.  My comment, however, had caught the attention of the pretty young lady behind the counter.

“You have your own plane?” She smiled flirtatiously, eyeing Damien with obvious interest.

I almost gagged when he laid the charm on for her. “Why, of course. Doesn’t everybody?” He winked at her playfully.

She giggled in response, twirling her hair between her fingers.  “True, mine’s currently parked out back.”

“Mine’s having maintenance work done.  That’s what is forcing me to mingle with the common people today,” Damien replied condescendingly.

The girl’s face clouded over, when she realized he wasn’t kidding anymore, and she appeared to be dumbfounded for a moment, not sure how to reply.

“Can we just get out tickets, please?” Vance interjected, taking the focus off Damien.

She quickly handed them to us, not even bothering to wish us a nice flight before she called out, “Next!”

“I guess I offended her,” Damien said as we walked away.  “Too bad.  She held promise.”

“She dodged a bullet if you ask me,” Vance murmured.

Damien chuckled, completely unfazed by Vance’s remark.

We walked in silence together.  I peered down at my ticket, finding out we were bound for Washington, D.C., and we made our way through airport security, heading down the ramp to our waiting terminal.

“We have a little time before our flight still,” Vance said, coming beside me.  “Can I get you something to eat before we board?”

“I don’t want your blood, thank you,” I said sarcastically, and he sighed in exasperation.

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” he replied, before turning to walk away, leaving me standing with Damien in the waiting area.

Damien made a little sound with his mouth, shaking his head at me as if to say, ‘Well, you’ve done it now.’  He gestured to a row of seats, and I brushed past him.  He came to sit next to me after I made my choice, pulling a newspaper he’d been carrying out from under his arm and began reading.

That was totally fine with me.  The less he said to me the better.  I amused myself by watching the other people who would be joining us on our flight move about the terminal.  I wondered what they would say if I suddenly stood up and told them I was being held prisoner by a demon who was about to board the plane with them.  It ought to get security here at the very least.  They probably wouldn’t let me on either, thinking I was a complete lunatic.  What would Damien do then?  Besides kill my family.

My life was definitely beginning to border on the ridiculous.

Vance reappeared, striding across the space holding a long paper sack and a drink in his hand.

“I hope a sub sandwich is okay,” he said, handing the bag to me.  “I had them toast it open face like you like it.  And here’s an orange soda too.”  He offered the drink.

My stomach growled in response the wonderful smell of the food, but I hesitated to take it.  Though I normally loved kind and caring Vance, I was furious with him right now, and I didn’t want to take anything from him.

“Just eat it, Portia,” he said, thrusting the things at me.  “You can still hate me all you want while you do it.”

I rolled my eyes and reached out for them, and he moved to sit in the chair on the other side of me, while I looked for somewhere to place my soda.

“Here, allow me,” he said, holding the drink for me.

“Thanks,” I muttered, and I opened the bag containing the sandwich, tearing off a chunk to eat.  “Would you care for some?” I asked before taking a bite.

“No, you can have it.  You need to keep your strength up.”

“No more than you do.” I held out a piece out toward him. 

He stared at me for a moment before he finally reached to take what I offered.

We ate together in silence while Damien stayed hidden behind his newspaper.  After we were done with our food, Vance gathered up the trash and went to throw it away.

It was very awkward after that as the three of sat together unspeaking until finally the boarding call was made, and we picked up our carry-on bags, moving to join the line of those waiting to get onto the plane.

We were soon settled into first class, and I decided I’d had enough of the strained silence between me and my companions.  I settled into my seat and closed my eyes, letting sleep claim me.

I woke up several hours later when Vance gently shook me to inform me we were beginning our decent into Dulles International Airport.  I shifted sleepily in my chair, yawning and stretching a bit, before glancing out the window at the twinkling lights of Chantilly, Virginia below us.  I wondered what adventures life would hold for us here.

It didn’t take long for us to find ourselves back in another limousine, bound for the St. Regis Hotel.  We were greeted directly upon arrival and taken straight up to the suite Damien had reserved for us.  There were two bedrooms, and the valet placed mine and Vance’s luggage in one room while another valet placed Damien’s in his.

Damien also ordered an in-suite meal from the French-American cuisine restaurant that was on the premises.

I wandered around the plush setting taking in the gold décor of our room, before moving to stare out the window at Washington, D.C. and the buildings surrounding us.

“So what’s the plan from here on out?” Vance asked when the bellhops left the room.

“First we will dine, and then the rest of the evening is for relaxing and sleeping at your leisure.  We’ll go over the next step in our adventure tomorrow morning.  So I suggest we settle in and make ourselves comfortable for our stay here.”

Vance nodded, and I took that as my cue to go into our bedroom.  I wandered over to our suitcase and began removing items and placing them where they would be most easily accessed during our stay.  I pulled my red gown from the garment bag it was in to let it hang properly in the walk in closet so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

When I turned it was to see Vance walk through the door, closing it quietly behind him, and he lifted a finger to his lips, warning me to be quiet.

I held still, wondering what he was up to.  He crossed the space, towing me into the closet.

“Oh, baby.  I’m so sorry about earlier,” he said rapidly, reaching out to take my face in his hands.  “How can I ever convince you I’m not so cruel that I would have ever deliberately put you in danger?  I never even considered the possibility of the Awakening ever being removed from you again and what a blood exchange could mean.”

I was dumbfounded, unable to think of anything to say.

“I will admit I was marking you on purpose,” he continued on.  “I had this fear come over me he might try to do something similar to you.  I know you’ve always been staunchly against making a demon conversion though, so I hoped that meant you’d be safe.  But when you started thinking about what it would be like to drink from me I suddenly saw a way to mark you as my own and keep you from him as well.”

He was still truly terrified of losing me to his father.  That much was obvious.

“Why did you say those awful things to me then?” I asked, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.

He clenched his teeth, and he reached out to stroke a hand against my hair. “Because they’re true,” he said, looking deep into my eyes.  “I am selfish, and greedy, and I’ll do anything it takes to have you … absolutely anything.”

“Then why the forced separation?”

“Because I need to protect both of us from being weak, making us unable to do this mission properly.  Please try to understand.  I love being with you, and I want to be with you, but right now I just can’t.  It’s too dangerous.”

“I think you’re being ridiculous,” I said, moving past him to place my hand on the knob.

“Think whatever you want,” he replied.  “It isn’t going to change anything.”

“I already knew that,” I bit out at him.  “Heaven forbid anyone do anything around here that isn’t the way you think things should be done.” I stormed out of the closet, him following after me.

“Grow up, Portia,” he said in anger.

“Don’t you dare presume to talk down to me that way,” I returned heatedly.  “I’m not your child, and I don’t need you to treat me like one either.”

“Then quit acting like one,” Vance said, his eyes flaming.

“Get over yourself,” I replied, marching over to the bed to grab a pillow, picking it up and chucking it across the room at him.  “Get out of here, Vance.  Go have dinner with your father and don’t you dare come back in here.  I’m going to bed, and I don’t want to see you again until the morning.  Maybe then I will be calm enough, and adult enough, to carry on a conversation with you, but until then you and the couch are about to become best friends.”

Vance looked at me hotly before striding from the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

I didn’t see Vance or Damien again until I left the room the following morning and wandered into the dining area.  Both of them were seated at opposite ends of the table, eating in silence.

Pulling a chair out in the middle, I sat down and began to serve myself from the buffet of food in the center.

“How did you sleep, my dear?” Damien asked cordially, lifting a pitcher of orange juice and pouring some into a glass for me.

I didn’t answer him.  It was rude, but I was beyond caring about manners right at the moment.

“That well?” Damien continued on as if I were talking to him.  “I would wager to say Vance didn’t sleep much better.  I could hear him tossing and turning on the couch all night long.  It was quite distracting.”

Good,
I thought to myself, making sure to keep my eyes on my plate and not interact with either of them at all.

“So are the two of you ready to hear the plan for today?” Damien asked, and I still didn’t acknowledge him, but Vance did.

“We’ve been ready since you introduced this whole thing to us days ago,” he replied in an irritated voice.  “Let’s get on with it.”

“Very well,” Damien said.  “Tonight we will attend a charity ball at a private residence of a collector I know.  While we’re there we will be implementing a plan to get down into a secure vault where our host keeps his very private collection.  There we’ll attempt to recover a key, which happens to be a set of three Greek torches bound together by a rope. 

“To get the torches we will need to bypass a state of the art security system.  There are two guards who do a regular ground patrol of the property, but under the circumstances of the party, there will be more on the premises to provide extra protection during the event.  We’ll need to follow the time schedule of the guard on his route, moving through his checkpoints at a specific time.  There are also other alarms that will trigger around the artifact.”

“Why do you need us?” Vance asked Damien.  “This all sounds like stuff you could easily circumvent with your magic.”

“It would seem the case, but these are very special artifacts we’ll be gathering, all with extreme magical significance.  The odds of wards being in place with these items are great.”

“Do you have any idea what these so called wards will entail?”

“None,” Damien replied, reaching for his steaming mug of coffee and taking a sip.

“Isn’t that a little presumptuous of you then, to think you’ll be able to prepare for something, when you actually have no idea what it is?” Vance’s voice was measured, but the expression on his face looked a little angry.

“I have faith the three of us can pull anything off, son, don’t you?  I mean look at us.”  He waved his arm around.  “We’re some of the most powerful witches and warlocks in the world.  If we can’t do it, who can?” He chuckled, as if this answer was obvious.

“Pardon me if I don’t relish the idea of dying at a moment’s notice,” Vance said in a frustrated tone.  “I don’t have the instant healing properties you and Portia are gifted with anymore.”

“But you do regenerate,” Damien reminded him.  “So, all is well.”

“I only regenerate at your whim,” Vance argued back hotly.  “I wouldn’t put it past you to leave me rotting on the floor while you whisked my wife off to places unknown.”

Damien laughed right out loud at this comment.  “As tempting as that sounds, I can assure you that you are safe with me.  I need you for other projects, and I’m afraid I would no longer have Portia’s willing cooperation if I were to allow something to happen to you.”

“You’ve got that right,” I mumbled under my breath, stabbing viciously into my eggs with my fork.

Damien laughed again, the sound grating on my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. “See, son, she does still care about you this morning.  Maybe you won’t have to sleep on the couch again tonight.”

“The couch will be just fine with me, thanks,” Vance replied, pushing his chair away from the table and striding out of the room.  A moment later I heard the bedroom door slam closed behind him.

“Hmmm.  Looks like he’s still mad at you though,” Damien said to me with a slight smirk.  “You should go make up with him.”

“Don’t you have something important to do this morning?” I bit back, lifting my head to glare at him.  “Like crawling under a rock to die?  Just butt out, will you?  This is none of your business.”

“On the contrary, this is very much my business.  I need you and Vance to be working together like a well-oiled machine, not bickering together like school children.”