Tegan's Return (The Ultimate Power Series #2) (20 page)

The next day is a complete rush. Finn's been in and out of the house all day, going back and forth, making sure all of the plans are in place for tonight. This is what is going to happen. I'm going to go to the party with Ethan, taking the willow bark dowsing rod with me in my bag. Sometime after we arrive I'll slip away, pretending I need to use the bathroom, when I'll really be going to search for Rebecca, Pamphrock, and the rest of the captured slayers. 

 Once I've located them, I'll text Finn to let him know where exactly they are. At this point my job will be done, and Finn will enter the mansion with Rita, Alvie, Gabriel and several handpicked new slayer recruits.

 Finn has the entire mansion all mapped out on his computer, so he knows the most efficient points of entry. It will all depend on where the prisoners are being kept what point of entry they will use. Should they run into any vampires, Rita will be on hand with one of her confusion spells.

 It all seems rather air tight, so I really can't explain why I feel so trapped, like I can't breathe. I don't want to do this. I want to be back in Manchester, because even though my life had been lonely there, at least I didn't have to walk right into the hornet's nest, so to speak. And that is exactly what I will be doing tonight. I try to ignore the pain in my heart at the thought of Ethan discovering my betrayal.

 I steel myself, and try to remember that Ethan deserves to be betrayed for what he allowed happen to Amanda. I spend most of the day nursing her, which is an absolute nightmare because she keeps fighting me. Begging me to let her go and see Lucas at the club. I'm almost at the point of resorting to tying her up to keep her from leaving the house. It's for her own good in the long run. She needs to go cold turkey.

 In the end I give her some food and some sleeping tablets before going to get ready for my big night of doom. My brain is screaming at me inside my head, telling me not to go, that I'll only get caught.

 I pull the fanciest dress I own out of my suitcase. It's a cream lacy number, in keeping with the fashion of the 1920's. I style my hair to match, in wet look set waves a la an actress in an old black and white movie. I finish the look with smoky eyes, red lips and black velvet heels, then I'm all ready to go. I grab my handbag and check on Amanda before I head downstairs. She's still asleep. Hopefully the pills will keep her knocked out until I get back.

 The kitchen and living room downstairs are packed with people, all milling about to prepare for the rescue mission. There are lots of slayers I don't recognise. Alongside Finn, Rita, Alvie, Gabriel and of course Wolf. The dog is sitting in the corner of the room, eyeing the strangers intently.

 “Whoa, you look
hot
,” Alvie exclaims, fanning himself dramatically with a mischievous grin.

 “Why thank you Alvie,” I reply, good naturedly. Finn is gawking at me, so I roll my eyes at him. He straightens up then and clears his throat.

 Rita approaches, handing me the branch dowsing rod. It's got a red ribbon tied around it and a chunky gold ring on one of the branches. “The ribbon belongs to Rebecca and the ring is Pamphrock's. You'll need to think of them in order for the rod to lead you to them. Just picture them in your mind, but make sure that it's them you're thinking of and no one else, otherwise it won't work.”

 “Got it,” I reply, taking the branch from her and putting it nervously into my bag.

 Rita places a hand on each of my shoulders and looks me right in the eye. “Breathe Tegan, you're going to be fine. If anything goes wrong text Finn and we'll come get you straight away.”

 “Thanks,” I whisper. Her words of reassurance aren't really making me feel much better. “By the way, Ethan wants to know if you'll come and work for him,” I remark sarcastically, knowing full well Rita won't go for it. I expect her to tell me no flat out, but instead she raises her eyebrows and slinks off, a contemplative look on her face. Oh, she
better
not be considering it.

 Finn's looking at me again, but he doesn't say anything. Suddenly he comes marching toward me. His expression is unreadable. He grabs me by the elbow and shoves me out into the hallway, slamming the kitchen door shut after him, seemingly to afford us some privacy.

 I lean back against the wall and he stands close in front of me. I raise my eyebrows at him but he doesn't talk for a minute.

 Finally he says, “I'm really sorry you've been put in this position.” His voice is low but steady.

 I shrug. “I'm getting paid for it, and it's not like you're making me or anything. I agreed to do this of my own free will.”

 Finn's shoulders slump a little. It's the only outward sign of his distress. “It still doesn't feel right, you going in there. It's one thing for you to be at the club with Cristescu, but it's a whole other kettle of fish going to a party where every vampire in the city will be in attendance.” He pauses and runs a hand through his hair. “I'm – I'm worried about what might happen to you.”

 
So am I
, says a tiny voice in my head. But I can't say it out loud. I need to be strong right now. I can't let Finn know that I'm frightened of what I'm about to do.

 “I'll be fine,” I whisper, before taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. Finn's eyes lock with mine, and it's just too much to take so I try to diffuse the tension with humour.

 I nudge him in the shoulder and tease, “Jesus Finn, anyone would think you actually cared about me.”

 He scowls, but his lips twitch up a little in a suppressed grin. “Yeah well, you've grown on me.” He stops and winks then. His humorous demeanour has returned fully. “Kind of like a fungus you can't get rid of.”

 I laugh and hug him, just as my taxi arrives outside. I hear the driver beep the horn.

 “Good luck Tegan. If anything goes wrong I'm only a phone call away,” Finn reminds me as I close over the front door. I walk toward the car, my heart in my throat as I get closer to what could very possibly be the last party I ever attend.

They've Got Some Hungry Women There

As I sit in the taxi on my way over to Ethan's, my phone buzzes with a text from the man himself.

 
Are you on your way, my love?
It reads.

 
Yes, I'm coming now.
I write back quickly.

 Another message pops up half a minute later.
You will be tonight
. His reply makes me snort and shiver at the same time.

 
Very self-assured Mr Cristescu, I've not yet agreed to stay over.
A smug smile forms on my lips as I hit the send button.

 It barely takes a second for his answering message. All it says is,
You're staying, Miss Stolle.

 
I snap my phone shut then, not bothering to write back this time. We're almost at his house anyway. My entire body is alight with nervous excitement to see Ethan, even if I am basically going to be an intruder at this party. I really don't want to think about what the vampires do to spies when they catch them. Going with Ethan tonight is the ultimate masochism of the emotions; it's both pleasurable and painful to be around him. Painful because I know it can't last. The pleasure side is quite obvious.

 He's standing outside by his Cadillac when I arrive, dressed all in black. It really is a sight to behold. Ethan's golden hair stands out even more so against the sleek blackness of his designer suit. I can feel my knees going weak just looking at him. He walks to the taxi and opens my door for me, taking my hand to help me out. Oh what a gentleman this vampire can be. Then he pays the driver, before escorting me into his shiny, silvery black car.

 “Allow me,” he whispers, taking the seat belt and strapping me in. It reminds me of the night we first met, when he'd done almost the exact same thing. I notice him grinning slightly. He must be remembering too.

 “Is Delilah going to be at the party?” I ask, wondering how the dhamphir is doing. She'd been in quite a state the last time I saw her.

 “Yes, she's coming with Lucas and Dru. We'll see them there.” Ethan answers, his eyes consuming me. “I have half a mind not to go. You look dangerously beautiful tonight Tegan. I don't think I want to share your company with anyone else.”

 I flush and look out the window. Not going to the party is rather tempting, but of course, I have a job to do, so there's no getting out of it. I turn and look back at him. “We'll have lots of time alone later,” I whisper. I can't believe I've said it. Embarrassment seeps through my pores.

 He lifts my hand and brings it to his lips, places a feather light kiss to my inner wrist and then lets it drop back down. He continues to hold it in his lap and my heart beats a mile a minute. It feels like only mere seconds have passed and we're already pulling through the foreboding steel gates of Whitfield's mansion. What is it with evil supernatural beings and mansions? Theodore had one too. Perhaps big houses provide them with a sense of power and grandeur. Or simply make up for smaller appendages.  

 A man in a pressed suit takes Ethan's car keys as we get out of the vehicle. He hops right in and drives off around to the rear of the building. Ethan presents me with his arm and we enter the house. Another smartly dressed man welcomes us in, and I can hear the sounds of music and merriment streaming from the room just ahead of us. I'm so anxious right now. Ethan must notice that my heart is beating way too fast because he tilts his head to look down at me quizzically.

 “I'm just nervous,” I tell him. “I've never been to a party like this before.”

 He nods and smiles softly, pulling me closer to him by putting his arm around my waist, possibly to make me feel more secure. My heart melts.

 We walk through a large entrance hall with the highest ceiling I've ever seen. There isn't much furniture but there are lots of sculptures and paintings all about, as well as an ornate marble staircase. It's cold and unlived in, like a museum.

 We go through a hall then which leads to a massive ballroom, and even though I don't admire Whitfield in any way, shape or form, I have to admit that his party impresses me. All down the centre of the room there are long tables, decked out with expensive silk cloth, silver candelabras and a banquet to die for. Beyond the tables is a beautiful ballroom dance floor, like something out of a period novel. Soothing music streams from the string quartet who play in the far corner of the large room. This place is so opposite to Crimson it's almost laughable.

 The food makes my mouth water, and the only thing that keeps me from running over and stuffing my face is the fact that there are hundreds of vampires present. All of them are seated along the tables, laughing and talking, drinking and eating. Some have human companions, others don't.

 A server comes and greets us before leading us to the head of the main table where Whitfield, Eliza and many other important looking vampires are enjoying themselves. Lucas, Delilah and Dru are there too. Delilah has a long white dress on. It makes her look ethereal, like some kind of goddess come to earth. Dru wears a white shirt under a silky black waist coat; I think that's about as dressed up as she's willing to get. Eliza doesn't look happy when she spots me, but I do my best to be brave and not allow her hostility to affect me.

 I meet her eyes steadily, which takes every ounce of courage I have inside of me. She's wearing an elegant dark purple dress, and her caramel hair is piled up high on her head, curls fall down framing her regal face. I wonder if she's decided to defy Ethan by going ahead and informing her father of our unconventional relationship. Unconventional in the sense that I have never once provided him with blood.

 Ethan pulls a chair out for me which is situated directly across the table from Eliza. Great. Then he takes the seat beside mine and nods for one of the servers to fill our glasses with wine. I opt for the white, since there's something too blood-like about the red wine that's currently being served. Most likely that's just my over-active imagination.

 “Ethan, my good friend,” Whitfield says in greeting, his voice is full of happiness. He actually seems a small bit drunk. Celebrating his victory a little prematurely, I would think. He's going to be lethally angry if Finn is successful in rescuing Pamphrock. “Welcome, and you've brought your dear human companion.”

 He turns to plant his gaze fully on me now. “My dear, you look positively ravishing.” His eyes are too intense, too full of something I can't quite put my finger on. Patient determination perhaps. I pale at the idea of Whitfield biding his time until Ethan loses interest in me so that he can swoop in and claim me as his blood donor. If he knew the truth about me I don't think he would be quite so patient.

 “Thank you, sir,” I reply in a very small voice. I sip on some wine, and even though it's probably the most expensive wine I have ever drank, it still burns as it goes down. This situation is just way too much for my nervous disposition. I'm carefully avoiding Eliza's eyes as she glares daggers at me from across the table. She obviously isn't pleased with her father paying me compliments.

 She's not at all discreet when she whispers under her breath, “Human whore.” Some of the vampires at the table have heard her. I think she might have had a bit too much to drink also, and didn't realise that her remark would be noticed.

 “Eliza!” Whitfield snaps. “Where are your manners?”

 Eliza's eyes blaze red as she stares intently at her father. Most of the others seated at our table are carrying out their own conversations, so they aren't paying much attention to what's going on.

 “That filth shouldn't be here during your happy celebration, Father. I apologise for being rude, but it's the truth.” She sneers at me now, and her glowing red eyes make her look hungry. I hastily knock back the rest of my wine, and a server immediately appears to refill my glass. I look to him gratefully. I'm going to need a whole lot of Dutch courage to get through this night.

 “Humans are what keep us alive dear daughter, you need to learn to respect that.” Whitfield replies, his vigilant eyes taking in the mechanics of the situation. Perhaps he's taking note of the reason why Eliza hates me so much, and that's because I'm an obstacle in the way of her and Ethan getting it on.

 I feel so awkward right now. I turn to Ethan and whisper, “Perhaps I should leave.”

 He grips my hand and shakes his head. He doesn't seem at all uncomfortable with the tension I'm causing by being present at the table. “You're not going anywhere,” he replies quietly.

 “What are you two whispering about?” Eliza hisses.

 “I can see this getting old
very
soon,” I hear Lucas remark casually to Dru, who's sitting beside him. She nods and grins, settling in to watch the drama unfold. 

 “It got old long before now,” says Ethan cuttingly to Lucas. I hadn't realised he heard too because he'd been focusing his attention on Eliza.

 I glance over at Whitfield, worried that he'll get mad that Lucas and Ethan are being rude about his daughter. But he's not mad. He's sitting back in his chair, watching the exchange with a half amused, half bored look on his face. He catches me staring at him, and the boredom leaves his expression entirely. Now he appears intrigued and his grin broadens.

 Our eyes are locked in something of a challenge. It will be over my dead body that he ever gets to sink his fangs into me. Whitfield is powerful enough as it is. This city doesn't need him being able to walk in the sun and becoming immortal.

 Eliza glances between Ethan and Lucas and her anger seems to have increased tenfold. She screams and demands, “Stop talking about me like I'm not even here!” Her fangs have fully descended from her mouth. She stands and grabs her wine glass before hurling it at Ethan.

 Yeah, Eliza's hungry alright, hungry to have my guts for garters. Maybe even Ethan's too. But he's out of his chair, dodging the flying liquid before it has the chance to touch him. It splashes onto his vacated seat, making a terrible mess of the upholstery.

 “Eliza, darling, please conduct yourself in a more lady like manner. I'm finding your attitude really very trying at the moment.” Whitfield says with a sigh, his honey coloured eyes reprimanding her. “You are
ruining
my joyous celebration.” He sounds like an angry housewife whose dinner party isn't turning out the way she'd hoped. I have to make a conscious effort not to laugh.

 Immediately, Eliza's fangs retreat and the red leaves her eyes. She sits back down in her seat, whispering, “I apologise, Father.”

 A server comes and wipes down Ethan's chair, before carefully removing it and replacing it with a clean one. Ethan thanks him and sits back down, his expression cool and collected as though nothing has even transpired.

 I watch as Whitfield picks a fancy silver knife up from his place setting, before tapping it three times to his wine glass. The loud sound goes ding, ding, dinging throughout the massive room. Immediately, all conversation hushes and the string quartet stops playing.

 Whitfield makes a big show of clearing his throat before he stands and addresses the crowd. “My people,” he begins, “I would like to say a few brief words of thanks for your attendance here at my home tonight. It has been a long and bloody war, but finally victory is in our hands. We have lost many fine men and women to the battles, but their deaths were not in vain. Each and every one of them contributed to what we have now achieved. The entire city belongs to us, and what remains of the slayers, the dhamphirs, and the magic wielders will be erased from our world soon enough.”

 That sounds an awful lot like ethnic cleansing to me, and I don't like it one tiny bit. What right does Whitfield have to kill all those who remain on the North side just so that he can rule unchallenged? My eyes drift to Delilah, whose face is even paler than usual. I know exactly what she's wondering, she's wondering how she fits in with this plan of Whitfield's. Our gazes meet and lock; she sees that I understand her predicament. I wish there was some way for me to communicate with her, to let her know that Whitfield's victory is not as secure as he would like to believe.

 I focus back on Whitfield's speech, which seems to be drawing to an end. “I have many entertainments planned this evening, and I hope they will all contribute to your enjoyment. Now, let us eat and be merry, for after so many long years this city finally belongs to its rightful owners, the vampires.”

 The gathering of vampires clap and cheer. I can't bring myself to join them, even though I'm supposed to be pretending that I'm happy for them. I notice that Delilah isn't clapping either.  Then everyone begins to dig into the delicious spread of food that has been set out. For some reason my appetite has disappeared completely.

 Ethan pulls his chair closer to mine and places one hand on the small of my back. In his other hand he has some kind of tiny pastry which he raises to my mouth. I meet his eyes and bite into it. It's delicious, and yet still I can't seem to enjoy it. This whole party is just plain wrong. I want to get my job done and get out of here.

 The music has started up again and various couples take to the dance floor. Perhaps this will be a good moment to slip away and do what I came here to do in the first place. Just as I'm about to excuse myself to Ethan, I look up and find Whitfield standing before me.

 He smiles at Ethan who returns the expression, then he looks to me. “Would you care to join me in a dance?” he asks, holding out his hand.