Secrets in the Shadows (15 page)

Without another word, he turned to his suitcase and began violently stuffing his clothes into it. Hannah took the none-too-subtle hint, ducking into the bathroom to pack her own meager bag. He’d have had an easier time fitting everything in the suitcases if he slowed down and folded things, but it felt good to take some of his fury out on inanimate objects.

After a quick trip to the ice machine to restock his cooler, he was ready to go. When Hannah emerged from the bathroom, he had the cooler slung over his shoulder and a suitcase in each hand. She eyed him warily.

“We’ve still got twenty minutes before Drake gets here,” she said.

“I’m not going with Drake.” Which he had a feeling she’d known damn well before she spoke.

“Think this through, Jules.”

“I’m not going back to Philadelphia, I’m not going back to Eli, and if you argue with me I might not be able to keep my temper under control anymore.”

“Okay. I won’t argue. Where are we going instead?”

“We aren’t going anywhere. You’re going back to Philly with Drake.” It was far too dangerous for Hannah to remain anywhere near him. He doubted she would give in easily, but one thing was for sure: she was not going with him.

He tried to make eye contact, but she quickly ducked her head and stared at her feet.

“I’m on a job here, you know,” she said. “I was hired to keep an eye on you, and I plan on doing it. Until you’re safely out of Baltimore, you’re stuck with me.”

He reached out with his glamour, urging her to raise her chin and meet his eyes. Once he had eye contact, she wouldn’t be able to fight it. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

“Stop it, Jules,” she said. “You can use your damn glamour if you absolutely have to, but then I’ll have to chase you through the city. I really don’t want to chase you through this city at night.”

“Then don’t!” God, this woman was impossible! And she just might be stupid and stubborn enough to do as she threatened. Gabriel might not harm her—though Jules had serious doubts about that—but Ian certainly had an axe to grind. The thought of what Ian would do if he got his hands on her …

He had to get rid of her.

“I’m not leaving,” she insisted. “We’ll both be a lot safer if you just let me come with you instead of making me chase you.”

Boldly, she raised her eyes and met his gaze. The temptation to seize her with glamour was almost overwhelming. But obviously, using glamour to get away from her wasn’t enough. He had to keep her from following him.

“I can see why men have hit you in the past,” he snarled, “though I can’t imagine how they put up with you long enough to have a relationship in the first place!”

It was a low blow, and she flinched. Guilt stirred in his center, but he didn’t take the words back. He couldn’t soften his stance, had to stay strong even if that meant being an asshole.

Of course, Hannah wasn’t one to take a blow like that without fighting back. “What’s the matter, Jules? Not man enough to handle a woman who has a mind of her own?”

Jules ground his teeth, pulling back on the reins of his temper. This impossible female was going to get herself killed! How the hell could he get rid of her?

Suddenly, he remembered the day Hannah had killed the Banger. After all the excitement was over, Gray had decided to chase Carolyn away from him for her own good. He’d pretended to go mad with bloodlust and attacked her, knowing full well Jules and Drake wouldn’t let him hurt her.

The tactic had worked for Gray, but Hannah would never believe Jules was mad with bloodlust. However, he might just know of a way to make her so pissed of at him that she’d wash her hands of him for good …

He dropped his suitcases and cooler. The bottles rattled loudly, and he hoped none of them broke.

He took a moment to gather up his rage. Then, he rushed her.

***

The air whooshed out of Hannah’s lungs as Jules flung himself on top of her, knocking her flat on her back onto the bed. Furious herself now, she tried to punch him, but he grabbed both of her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her head. Then his mouth came down hard on hers.

It was an angry, brutal kiss, and everything in Hannah rebelled against it. She struggled and squirmed, keeping her mouth tightly closed as his tongue demanded entrance.

He was way too strong for her. Probably would have been even if he were human. A little whimper of fear escaped her, and her heart suddenly leapt into her throat. She was helpless against him. A weak, helpless female. He could do anything he wanted right now, even without his glamour, and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. His body pressing down on hers, trapping her, stealing her air, her space, her light. Her lungs tightened until she could hardly breathe, and another whimper rose in her throat. A tremor shook her whole body.

Jules’s mouth left hers, though he kept his hold on her wrists, and his body still pinned hers to the bed. She closed her eyes tightly, fighting the panic, but it wouldn’t go away. Her breaths came fast and shallow. A hot trickle leaked from her eye and slid down toward her ear.

“Hannah?” Jules asked, letting go of her wrists. His finger traced the tear track. Then he rolled off of her and she curled into a ball and hugged her knees.

His hand gently brushed over her hair, a touch so gentle in contrast to his recent roughness that it wrung another tear from her, no matter how hard she clamped her jaws shut and tried to force herself to calm down.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” Jules said, his voice subdued and quiet. “I was trying to get you pissed off enough that you’d decide not to follow me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She concentrated on breathing slowly, steadily. She hated, hated, hated feeling helpless. That’s why she’d taken all those martial arts classes. She’d spent her entire childhood being taught that her brothers were bigger, stronger, and faster than she was, could overpower her whenever they wanted. It wasn’t that they’d ever really hurt her, but they’d damaged her pride many a time. She’d determined she’d never be helpless again. And then she’d had to go and get mixed up with vampires. Life had a sick sense of humor.

It was far too late to pretend his little show of dominance hadn’t scared the crap out of her, but she tried her best.

“It wouldn’t have mattered how pissed you made me,” she said, her voice hoarse and scratchy sounding. “I’d have followed you either to keep you safe or to kill you myself.”

He groaned loudly. “You are the most impossible female I’ve ever met.”

She surreptitiously wiped away the last traces of her tears. “We’re wasting time. If you don’t want Drake too close on our tail, we’d better get out of here now.”

Jules sighed. “Whatever you say. Apparently, you’re the boss.”

She couldn’t even muster a hint of a forced smile.

***

Drake didn’t bother to go up to Jules and Hannah’s room. As soon as he’d reached the hotel, he’d scanned the area, hoping that Jules’s would be the only vampire psychic footprint he picked up. Instead, he’d sensed none. With a curse and a groan, he parked, then slapped the steering wheel for good measure.

Had Gabriel or Ian gotten to Jules? Or had the fool changed his mind about going home?

He dialed Jules’s cell phone. When he heard the connection going through, he breathed a quick sigh of relief. Then the anger was back.

“I’m not in the mood to talk right this moment, Drake,” Jules said.

“You idiot! Where are you? Stop playing games and let’s get out of here.” Not that he expected Jules to listen to reason, but he had to at least try.

“I’m not going back to Philly, and nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

“Why? I thought—”

“I had a visit from Gabriel.” Even with the poor reception on his phone, Drake could hear Jules’s anger. “Give Eli a call, Drake. Ask him who made Camille and Gabriel. Then maybe you’ll understand why I’m not coming.”

Jules cut the connection, leaving Drake to stare at his phone in amazement and disgust. Jules was quite a piece of work. Didn’t the idiot know that Gabriel meant them all harm? Couldn’t he extrapolate from that that Gabriel might have been lying through his pointy teeth?

Knowing it was useless, he tried Jules’s cell again. Not surprisingly, he got his voice mail. “Call me when you’ve come to your senses,” he said, doubting that Jules would do it even if he did come to his senses.

Leaving his car precariously in a no-parking zone, Drake ducked into the hotel to see if by chance Hannah was waiting for him, but of course she was gone too. She and Jules made quite a pair—stubborn, willful, and apparently suicidal.

Now what? he wondered. The sensible thing to do was abandon Jules and Hannah to their fate. But while he might have been able to stomach leaving Jules here, it was much harder to imagine leaving Hannah. As a mortal, she no doubt had less of a grasp on what she was up against, and she was following her protective instincts. But she was highly likely to end up dead—or worse—if she hung around with Jules. Drake would rather not have that on his conscience.

Slipping back into his car, which thankfully hadn’t been towed or ticketed, Drake dialed Eli’s number. Eli answered on the second ring.

“Jules and Hannah have flown the coop,” Drake said.

Eli muttered something that might have been a curse. “I thought you said—”

“Yeah, they were planning to come back with me. But Gabriel got to them before we could get out of town. He’s convinced them that you made him and Camille, so now Jules is throwing another of his temper tantrums.”

There was an eerie silence on the other end of the line. A chill snaked down Drake’s spine. He shook his head slowly.

“Gabriel was lying. Wasn’t he?” His heart thudded as the silence stretched. “Eli?”

“He’s not lying,” Eli said, and Drake had never heard the Founder’s voice so subdued. “I was not always what I am now. I made Camille, a long time ago.”

“Jesus, Eli.”

“You understand now why I was so adamant Jules not go to Baltimore.”

Drake couldn’t seem to swallow, nor could he find his voice to speak. But why should this shock him so? He already knew Eli was a Killer. Why should discovering he’d made another Killer be so much worse?

And yet, it was. Immeasurably so.

“I’m very old, Drake,” Eli said. “Old enough to have changed a great deal. I’m not proud of my past, but I can’t make it go away. All I can do is try to make amends.”

Drake cleared his throat, hoping that would loosen his vocal cords. His voice still came out tight and strained. “And that’s why you founded the Guardians? To make amends?”

“Yes.”

How many fledglings had he made? How many people had he killed? How many people had his fledglings killed? He had a lot to make amends for.

“What about Gabriel?” Drake asked. He’d always assumed he was Camille’s fledgling, but if Eli had made Camille … “Did you make him too? Your own son?”

“Not exactly.”

Drake had to fight down a surge of his own temper. “What does that mean?”

“It means that contrary to popular opinion, vampires can have children. It’s just very rare, and it seems we can only have them with each other, not with mortals. Before Camille became pregnant, I’d never heard of a vampire less than five hundred years old recovering their fertility. Camille was only a little more than three hundred. Her pregnancy was unexpected. She barely survived the birth.””

Drake was too stunned for words. A pregnant vampire? In all his hundred and ten years as a vampire, he’d never heard of such a thing. But then, before Eli, the oldest vampire he’d ever known had been about two hundred and fifty years old. And Eli never shared a drop more information than necessary, so it wasn’t surprising he’d failed to mention this little tidbit.

“The truth is,” Eli continued, “unlike you or me or Camille, Gabriel never was human. So while Camille and I can claim joint responsibility for him, neither of us is his maker.”

Drake’s head throbbed. He wished he hadn’t had to hear any of this. Blissful ignorance would have been ever so much better.

“You see, Drake—there’s a reason I keep secrets. It’s not just an old man’s whim. It would have been far better for everyone if neither you nor Jules had learned any of this. I hope I can count on your discretion. You can see what such knowledge has done to Jules. Just imagine how some of the younger Guardians would take it.”

Oh, they would take it very badly indeed. “And what about me?” Drake asked, his voice rough. “Does it matter how I take it?”

“I know how you’re taking it,” Eli said quietly. “You’re angry and disillusioned and maybe even a little sad. But given time, you’ll be able to accept the truth about me. You’re too practical to let emotions rule for long.”

Drake mulled that over. “I might be able to accept it. And I won’t betray your secret because I know you’re right and it could destroy the Guardians. But I’ll never be able to forgive you for creating a creature like Camille.”

Eli sighed. “As I will never be able to forgive myself.”

The hurt and sadness in Eli’s voice was almost enough to trigger Drake’s sympathy. Almost.

“What do you want me to do now?” Drake asked, wondering if he had enough respect left for Eli to do as he ordered.

“I’ll leave that up to you. Jules and Hannah have put themselves in great danger, but I’m not sure how much you’ll be able to help them. Especially if they don’t want to be helped.”

That was unquestionably true. And yet, if Drake left town now … Not only would he have to deal with his conscience, he’d also have to go back to Philadelphia and deal with Eli. He wasn’t sure he could do that right now.

“I’ll find them. And I’ll do what I can to help them. But don’t get your hopes up—I don’t see Jules coming to terms with what he’s learned about you.”

“I don’t either,” Eli admitted. “But people are still capable of surprising me once in a while. Perhaps Jules will too.”

Drake hung up without another word.

***

Jules couldn’t stay in Baltimore—at least, not indefinitely—and he couldn’t go back to Philadelphia. Honestly, he didn’t know where that left him. Where did he want to spend the rest of his long, long life? And how could he be sure his chosen residence wasn’t already “taken” by a master vampire?