The Dark Vampire: Last True Vampire 3 (21 page)

Was her heart so cold?
The werewolf quickened your blood well enough
.

“He’s dangerous,” Carrig growled. “A rogue. You should let me put him in the ground and be done with it.”

She kept her words void of emotion. “Should I?”

“Gadewch i mi diogelu chi. Os gwelwch yn dda.”

“I can protect myself, Carrig. The werewolf. Bring him to me.”

Carrig pulled away and Siobhan missed his heat. “As you wish, mistress.” His stiff formality tightened her chest. Just as silently as he’d come upon her, Carrig left.

Siobhan hugged her arms around her body, suddenly chilled. For centuries she’d convinced herself that she needed no one. Was above petty emotion and weakness. But now she worried that she no longer believed her own lies.

Jenner
sat in a small sunroom situated at the south side of Thomas Fairchild’s compound. Mikhail could have learned a thing or two from the male in the security department. Whereas the king preferred his mansion that looked out over L.A., Fairchild had situated his coven in a rural area, miles from anything in all directions. A tall chain-link fence topped with razor wire surrounded his compound, and no one was allowed in or out without his approval. It was a wonder Bria had managed to sneak out for her geocaching adventures. His mate was quite the escape artist, it seemed, and his appreciation for her skills only grew in light of her uncle’s secure compound.

Bria’s ability to slip away from the property undetected didn’t change the fact that the place was a veritable prison, however. The hackles on the back of Jenner’s neck rose at the thought of Bria, kept in this place for decades.

So far Fairchild had made him wait for almost a half hour, and Jenner was twitchy as fuck. He’d fallen into bed just before sunrise, his cock hard as stone and his body wound as tight as a gods-damned spring. He couldn’t get
the image of Bria, soft and responsive beneath him, from his mind or the sound of her cries as she came from his ears. It had taken every ounce of willpower in his stores to walk away from her when all he’d wanted to do was fuck her until he was too exhausted to even think about leaving her.

He tried to convince himself that it was the biology of their tether that made him want her. That beyond the mystical bond that tied their souls there was nothing between them. He couldn’t lie to himself any more than he could deny his own thirst. Bria fascinated him. The fire that burned beneath her cool exterior, the bravery she showed even though she’d been raised to fear. The wanton desire she exhibited that was such a contradiction to her innocence. The calm she exuded that washed over Jenner whenever he was in her presence. He wanted to know her beyond their tether. Every little nuance. And what shook him to his foundation was the fear that once she knew him as well—knew the things he was capable of—she’d understand why he’d kept himself from her. That he was nothing more than a creature with an insatiable thirst and so far beneath her station.

What then? When she found out there was nothing more to him would she return here? Opting for an existence in this prison rather than staying with him?

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

Jenner’s body stretched taut as a bowstring as he turned toward the sound of Thomas Fairchild’s voice. So lost in his own tortuous thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed when the male entered the room. Jenner stood from the chair and the dhampir motioned for him to sit. It would serve to gain the male’s trust by offering all the respect due the coven’s master. That didn’t mean that Jenner didn’t want to wring the bastard’s neck for keeping Bria locked up in this place for the gods knew how long.

“Lucas tells me you had quite an eventful outing with my niece last night.”

A growl built in Jenner’s throat. Fairchild’s spy was going to find himself bleeding out in an alley somewhere if he came between Jenner and his mate again. “You would be wise to instruct Lucas to keep his distance.”

“Indeed.” Fairchild didn’t seem fazed by Jenner’s warning. Instead, the male appeared to be pleased.

His calm façade did nothing for Jenner’s temper. Fairchild was the epitome of civilized sophistication. His outward appearance would have put him at home in a room of scholars, with his tweed jacket, carefully coiffed hair and crisp white dress shirt. Jenner doubted the male owned a pair of jeans or a T-shirt and believed he probably rolled out of bed looking as he did now. It was a wonder Jenner had even been invited to sit in the pristine solarium, animal that he was. He swallowed down a derisive snort as he took in the delicate china poised on an antique coffee table and the silver, polished to a high sheen. So damned civilized.

Thomas settled into the chair opposite Jenner and poured a cup of tea. He held it out to Jenner, a challenge in his gaze. Jenner took the dainty cup, feeling utterly ridiculous as he cradled it in his large palm. “You’re old enough to know better than to play these games.”

Thomas gave him a cool but indulgent smile. “You’re probably right. But after so many centuries, memories become as dreams.”

Not to a vampire. The Collective guaranteed that the past would thrive. “Bria isn’t a monster who only hungers for blood,” Jenner said with a sneer. That distinction was for him alone. “She’s the same female you’ve always known.”

“Is she?” Thomas asked.

“We are all animals at our cores,” Jenner growled. “It
is your
choice
that you’ve repressed that part of your nature.”

“You are a contradiction.” Thomas mused without acknowledging Jenner’s comment. “Much more intelligent than I initially gave you credit for.”

“I didn’t come here to be insulted.” Bria’s uncle wasn’t the first person to misjudge Jenner and he sure as fuck wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Thomas added a splash of cream into his cup and dropped in a sugar cube before pouring the steaming tea over it. “You came to hear my secrets.”

Thomas might have misjudged him, but Jenner had
his
number. The dhampir was shrewd. “Yes,” Jenner said without guile. “I think you owe me the truth.”

“You know that Bria had never even known a vampire before she became one,” Thomas said. He brought the delicate cup to his lips and sipped. “She’s too young to have any memory of the wars. Any memory of her parents.”

Wars? The Sortiari campaign had been genocide. Jenner didn’t bother to tell Thomas that Bria was now a part of the Collective. Whatever she’d been too young to know would be a part of her consciousness now.

“Her father, William, was a powerful vampire lord and wanted nothing more than to bring his enemies to their knees.”

Jenner lent Thomas his full attention. Many vampire lords rallied dhampir covens to their cause. Now that he knew Bria’s father was an aristocrat, Jenner was even more convinced that he was far out of her league. Jenner’s family had been considered so low that not even a dhampir coven would take them in, let alone a vampire. Jenner had fought against the Sortiari slayers to buy an honorable name for his family. Bria had been born with hers.

Thomas gave him an indulgent smile, as though he’d
heard Jenner’s thoughts, knew his insecurities. “William was headstrong and quite the zealot,” Thomas continued. “Fiercely loyal to his people and determined to save them from slaughter. My foolish sister Anna fell in love with William and he seemed obsessed with her. Quite the fairy tale,” he said with barely veiled disgust. “You’d think that would have calmed William’s battle lust, but it only spurred him to fight harder against the Sortiari. He turned her before the bulk of the fighting made it to London and it wasn’t long after that Anna became pregnant with Bria. By some miracle, the vampire managed to tether my sister’s soul. She insisted that I lend warriors to the fight and I did as she asked despite my misgivings.”

Jenner’s lip pulled back in a sneer. “It sounds as though you condemn your sister as well as William for their allegiances and their love.” If Thomas felt so much disdain for vampires Thomas’s loyalty to Mikhail could have been nothing more than lip service.

“I condemn no one save myself for my own foolishness.”

Thomas Fairchild’s prejudice rivaled his arrogance. His admission surprised Jenner, if only because he doubted the male enjoyed showing any weakness. It was perhaps his only admirable quality. Jenner set the damned dainty teacup down on the table. It wasn’t like he was interested in Earl Grey.

“I wish I’d taken my sister far away from William,” Thomas replied. “Bria would certainly be safer if I had.”

Thomas shifted in his seat and Jenner allowed the male a moment to gather his thoughts. He’d come here for Thomas’s secrets and it wouldn’t get him shit if he pressed the matter.

“There are monsters in this world, Jenner,” Thomas said at last. “Some of them are of our own making.” The fine hairs on Jenner’s arms stood on end. “Anna made
William a monster. That is the true evil that hunts us. Bria’s own father.”

A sense of urgency rose like a tide within Jenner. Mikhail had been the only vampire left for centuries. How could Bria’s father have survived to hunt them? The possibilities were many and frightening. When Mikhail found out would he risk his own mate and his unborn child’s safety by allowing Bria to stay in his home? Or would Jenner be forced to finally take her to his place, where nothing would stop him from taking what he wanted? “My patience is wearing thin.” Jenner’s secondary fangs punched down from his gums. He continued from between clenched teeth, “Stop beating around the bush and get on with it.”

“William was fatally injured in battle,” Thomas said with disgust. “And his own men left him on the muddied field, his throat cut through to his spine.”

The Sortiari attacks had been sudden and violent. The vampires had been arrogant in their sense of immortality and they’d been unprepared. Many hid behind armies of dhampirs while others met the slayers head-on. Jenner himself had bled for a vampire lord who’d promised him the gift of transformation only to have died at the pointed end of a slayer’s stake. A brutal time in their history, but the blame lay at the Sortiari’s feet, not the vampires’.

“Anna couldn’t allow him to die. She loved him too deeply to let him go. His head was nearly severed, even his own supernatural healing couldn’t save him at that point, but magic knows ways to cheat death.”

Finally, Thomas’s ramblings made sense. “So she sought a witch.”

“She sought a necromancer.”

Jesus fucking Christ.
Jenner’s heart pounded in his chest with the burst of adrenaline that shot through his veins. Necromancers practiced the darkest of magic and
nothing good ever came from dealings with one. Jenner shifted in his seat, the urge to leave and go to Bria almost overwhelming.

“I’ve never known a witch more powerful than Astrid,” Thomas continued. “And believe me, I’ve searched. Resurrection isn’t easy, even for a necromancer, and Astrid required a blood sacrifice as payment.”

“Your sister paid her price, then?”

“Of course,” Thomas replied as though Anna’s decision to take an innocent life had been a no-brainer. “She traded the life of a member of our coven, among other things, for that of her lover. She would have sacrificed tenfold that many lives for William’s. But Astrid betrayed her. What she brought back was not William.”

Fairchild’s sister had been a fool to have dabbled in such dark magic. “You should have known better than to let her do it,” Jenner managed to say through the rage clogging his throat.

“I should have,” Fairchild agreed. “But you’ll soon learn that reason has no place in matters of love or family. William became a wendigo. A servant to the magic that created him. His life force is tied to Astrid’s and has been for over two centuries. Can you imagine the hatred centuries of slavery would breed in such a soul?”

Jenner could guess.

“And you think William hunts you out of some sense of vengeance?”

“William hunts Bria,” Thomas corrected, “because Astrid wills it.”

“Why?” Jenner’s blood ran cold. “If your sister paid her price, why does she hunt Bria?”

“Anna didn’t pay all of Astrid’s price,” Thomas said gravely. “She promised the witch the blood of a newborn as well.”

Bria.
Jenner shot up out of his chair. A haze of pure
panic clouded his vision. “You let your sister promise the life of her own daughter?” His voice boomed around him, and the glass of the solarium shuddered in its wake.

“I have protected Bria.”

Thomas’s emphatic tone only served to further enrage Jenner. “By turning her into a prisoner!”

“What I did was for her own good.” The rationalization for Thomas’s actions fell on deaf ears. Jenner tucked his hands behind his back and gripped them tightly together lest he knock the selfish asshole flat on his ass. He could have stopped his sister, talked some damned sense into her, and instead he allowed her not only to offer her own child as payment but also to put her in lifelong danger by breaking faith. “I’ve kept her as safe as I could in the only way I knew how.” Thomas fixed Jenner with a pointed stare. “But she has you now, doesn’t she? A male such as you should have no problem seeking Astrid out. You could kill her and free William from his eternal slavery in the process. Free Bria from the danger that has hunted her over the course of her entire existence.”

He truly was an opportunistic son of a bitch. Mikhail’s suspicions had been well founded. Thomas Fairchild’s loyalty was as fickle as the Santa Ana winds. He made his alliances based on who could do him the most good. Bria would never come back to this place. Not
ever
. “Does Bria know that her mother offered her as currency to save a life that was already gone?”

Thomas averted his gaze. At least the bastard had an ounce of shame for what his sister had done. “She doesn’t. I’ve kept the truth from her. She knows that we’re in danger from a witch and that the vendetta is older than she is, but she doesn’t know why or from whom exactly.”

“You’re a coward,” Jenner bit out.

“I am,” Thomas agreed. “So you can imagine my relief that she has found a mate who is not.”