Stay the Night (25 page)

He wanted her to push him to do it, Luisa thought, a little startled to learn that he thought she had that much influence over him.
I can only see, and dream
.

I'll trade you
.

That hurt.
You aren't the only one who never asked for this to happen to them. Don't you think I would give it back if I could?

But you wouldn't give it to anyone else
.

No
. Luisa felt her own bitterness twist in her breast.
Not even to the men who hurt me
.

The shadow prince bowed his head for a moment before he stripped off his gloves and placed his big hands over the fawn's neck and back. He murmured something she couldn't hear—a prayer?—and then closed his eyes.

His sun had set an hour ago, but light began to stream down through the thick boughs overhead, pale and silvery, the memories of moonbeams. They settled around the shadow prince, setting him aglow, and danced over his dark face before gliding down his arms and pooling in his hands. The fawn twitched, and then it lifted its head and looked at the shadow prince with its large, soft eyes.

As he took his hands away and the light faded, the tiny creature struggled, thrashing its hooves before it scrambled upright. It stood on straight, strong legs, spellbound and trembling, but it did not run.

The shadow prince held out his hand and stroked the animal's small head before he, too, rose and stepped away.

The fawn found its legs and dashed off.

Luisa let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
You did it. That wasn't so bad, was it?

He looked up through the trees at the grinning moon and shook his head.
You expect too much from me, Princess
.

Despite his success, Luisa knew he wasn't ready to accept what he was. She wanted to see him come out of the darkness into the light so much that she thought she might scream, but the wisdom that had come with the sight made her understand.

Like her, he needed more time. At least they both had plenty of that.

Luisa felt a vision rising, one of another dark prince.
I have to go now
.

He reached out to her one last time, showing her a rare glimpse of his own longing and loneliness.
Come to me in my dreams
.

I will
.

Luisa pulled back into herself, taking the vision with her, and opened herself to see. The other man's lust filled her as she looked through his eyes, and she felt his anger and envy as he watched the lovers.

 

The man in the building directly across the street from Signorina Lorena DeGrazzi's apartment lowered the binoculars he had been using to watch the couple having sex and released the bulge straining at the front of his trousers.

As he pumped himself with his own hand, he imagined the red-haired mortal straining under him as he plowed into her, her dark eyes on his face. Only when her face changed into that of another did he jerk with hollow pleasure as he came alone in the empty room.

He washed his hands before he picked up the phone to place the call.

She answered with, “Well?”

“I tracked them from the airport to an apartment in the city,” he told her in the ruined, whispering rasp that she thought was all that remained of his voice. That his voice was slowly coming back and growing stronger by the day was something he had to conceal until he had his revenge. Then he would use it to tell the truth and right the wrongs committed against him by his cousin and the Americans. “They appear to be staying in for the night. Your call worked.”

“You sound jealous of Locksley, my lord,” she said. “Perhaps when you are finished with him and his little mortal, you will come and stay at my villa for a few weeks.”

He would rather perform the oral arts on a diseased-riddled whore on the steps of the Vatican, but saw no reason to tell her that. “Perhaps.”

She laughed. “Such enthusiasm. But I know you are eager to collect your reward. Everything is prepared. You have but to stay out of sight until sunset tomorrow.”

“What about the woman?”

“You will need to keep up your strength, yes?” she purred. “I believe that he also cares for her, so whatever you might do to her in front of him might prove most amusing.” Her voice grew crisp. “All you must do is bring the manuscript to me, and you will have your revenge. Until tomorrow, my lord.”

He put down the phone and returned to his seat by the window. Idly he touched the ring of scar tissue around his neck. Most nights he did not regret the miracle that Alexandra Keller had performed on him. She had told him that he would never speak again, but that part of his throat had somehow grown back in the months since the operation she had performed on him. But tonight he felt the weight of the world and all it had taken from him, and almost wished the pretty little doctor had finished the butchery he had been subjected to instead of repairing it.

If I am to live in purgatory, then I will see him in hell first
.

Guy of Guisbourne, Lord Nottingham, lifted the binoculars to his eyes again.

Chapter 13

“
G
ood evening, my lords,” Richard Tremayne, high lord of the Darkyn, said as he looked down the long table at the men seated around it. “Thank you for making the journey here.”

As Geoffrey's footmen filled their glasses with bloodwine, Michael surveyed the other six seigneurs who had traveled from the four corners of the earth for
le conseil supérieur
. As the first seigneur of North America, Cyprien had never before attended such a gathering, but years of discussing Kyn policies and decisions had given him an idea of what to expect.

Like him, these seigneurs ruled over hundreds of
jardins
all over the world. As leaders, they were directly responsible for ensuring the safety and prosperity of their kind.

Michael knew Sevarus, the seigneur over the European continent, best; they had both served as Richard's commanders during the
jardin
wars. Sevarus had been a temple master during the rule of Philip the Fair in France and, when the Templar order had been disbanded and its warrior-priests arrested by the pope, had smuggled many of their kind to safety in England. During his final trip, he had been am-bushed at the docks by the king's men and had lost his right hand and left eye in the ugly battle. No one who looked into the scarred eye socket or saw the emptiness at the end of his sleeve could ever doubt his loyalty to the Kyn.

Beside him Gilanden, seigneur of the Scandinavian countries, looked restless and out of place. The big Swede, a ship's captain who had circled the globe more times than even he remembered, had transformed the raiding Kyn under his rule into fleet of shrewd maritime traders. He lived on his own ship, which he sailed through the icy seas of his territory, and was never happy on land.

Cordoba of South America and Tristan of the Mediterranean, also old allies, appeared to be complete opposites. Cordoba, a Spaniard of an old and respected family, was as dark and earthy as Tristan, the son of a Norman baron, was fair and angelic-looking. The two had fostered together as boys, taken their vows, and fought in the Holy Land, always at each other's side. Michael had known twin brothers who had not been as close as the Spaniard and the Norman.

Zhang, the seigneur of Asia, had in his human lifetime been the result of a love affair between a shipwrecked English duke and the Chinese woman who had dragged him out of the sea. Upon his return to England, his father had sent him to the Templars, mostly so that he would not have to explain the blond-haired, black-eyed boy to his aristocratic family.

The voice of Zhang's seneschal crying out Phillipe's name still buzzed in Michael's ears. He had not meant to eavesdrop on their tryst, but the grunts and groans had at first made him think the two were having a different sort of battle. He had not lied when he had spoken of it later to his seneschal; Phillipe's personal life was none of his business, and knowing his seneschal had sex with men did not change Michael's regard or respect for him. He only wished things could be different for both of them.

Michael had never met Solange from Africa, but knew he and his lords had fled from Eastern Europe to the Dark Continent to escape the Nazis during the Second World War. Like Zhang, he had little contact with the Kyn of other countries, but accepted Richard's rule and maintained friendly ties to the other seigneurs.

Geoff's footmen finished serving and bowed before retreating from the reception room. Only then did the high lord begin the business of
le conseil supérieur
.

“I have brought you together so that we may address the growing threat against the Kyn,” Richard said. “The Brethren have moved on and disbanded
jardins
in Italy and France, and it appears now they are continuing their attacks against our brothers in Spain. From the reports I have received from you and your suzerains, I conclude that it can be nothing less than an orchestrated campaign.”

“This new Lightkeeper, Cardinal D'Orio, has instigated it,” Tristan said. “From the time he replaced Stoss as the new head of the order, he has been rallying and goading the zealots.”

“He does more than that.” Sevarus leaned forward to glare at Richard through his good eye. “He has been systematically identifying and tracking my lords and their holdings through their financial dealings with humans. Somehow he has convinced the banks to aid him, for our accounts are being frozen and emptied, our properties seized and sold off, and the humans loyal to us bankrupted or arrested.”

“Loss of our wealth does not concern me as much as these atrocious attacks on our strongholds,” Cordoba put in. “They have burned Tristan's lords out of Italy and Sevarus's from France; as we speak Spain is under siege. Hundreds have come to my suzerains seeking refuge.”

“You and Cyprien have accepted the tide of the refugees without complaint.” Richard toyed with the stem of his glass. “Do you wish to them to seek sanctuary elsewhere?”

“No, my lord. I have more than enough territory, and I shall keep it open to all who accept my rule and yours.” As he said that, Cordoba glanced at Tristan, who shook his head slightly.

“Are we to guess what you and your foster brother have obviously already discussed?” Richard asked.

“I have mapped the attacks and found a pattern,” Tristan admitted. “They are moving in a chaotic fashion, but always to the west, burning every stronghold in their path as they go. They are shooting those who flee.” He eyed Cyprien. “If the order continues the campaign at this pace, the hunters will reach the Atlantic by summer. From there they will have to turn around, or cross the sea and invade South America or the United States.”

“They may turn to the north to attack my lords and their strongholds,” Gilanden added sullenly.

Solange nodded. “Or move to the south to cross over to Morocco and move against mine.”

Sevarus's shaggy head turned right and then left. “We have tolerated these zealots too long, my lord. The Brethren have vowed to destroy our kind, and we know they will never permit us to dwell in peace among humans. The time has come to settle this thing.”

“I agree,” Zhang said. The quietest of the Kyn rulers, the Asian seigneur rarely spoke, as his talent infused his voice with an enchanting, musical quality that he could use to hold humans and Kyn in a state of enchantment. “The order will never rest until we fill their torture chambers or cover the earth with our ashes. My suzerains and their warriors are ready to fight.”

The other seigneurs added their agreements.

“Before we declare war on humans,” Michael said sharply, silencing the other men around the table, “I would propose another course for consideration. We can expose the Brethren to the rest of humanity.”

Richard's hood turned toward Cyprien. “And how will this protect us?”

“The Brethren are as secretive as we are. For centuries they have guarded their members and practices as carefully as we have our
jardins
,” Michael said. “They breed new members for the order to keep outsiders from discovering their mission and the lengths to which they go to carry out their campaign against us. They have been quite successful as well. No human of this era would believe that immortal blood drinkers live among them, or that the Brethren hunt and slay us.”

Richard made an impatient gesture. “Go on.”

“If we were to make available to the media evidence of the order's membership, methods, practices, and propaganda, they would immediately exploit it.” Michael saw the doubtful expressions around the table. “The scandal it would create would be enormous, especially when it was revealed how the order uses the positions they have assumed in the hierarchy of the Catholic Church to shield their identities and activities.”

“Michael, if you expose the Brethren,” Solange said, “you will expose us.”

“Think on it, my lord,” Michael replied. “The people of this era are not ignorant, superstitious peasants, cringing before the shadow of the cross. Modern humans wear the armor of disbelief and science, and little can penetrate it. Certainly CNN will run special reports for weeks on the topic, as will FOX and truTV. Secret vampire hunters will become all the rage among human adolescents. Shops in the malls will carry official Brethren T-shirts. Blessed wooden stakes and wreaths of garlic will be sold on eBay.”

“It makes me yearn for the days when all we had to fear were the inquisitors and the stake.” Gilanden squinted at Michael. “You make a good argument, Cyprien, but it is too much of a risk. The Brethren must have ample proof of our existence.”