Night's Honor Page 11

  For several minutes, she and Raoul stood watching the two men who fought with such swiftness and ferocity she had difficulty tracking their actions. They were totally engaged, their faces hard with concentration.

  Thinking of the conversation from last night, she had to swallow past an unexpected lump in her throat. “I understand exactly what you were saying last night, especially when I watch them.” She kept her voice quiet. “They’re wicked and beautiful and completely fearless, while I’m struggling to avoid getting pinned to the mat.”

  Raoul didn’t disagree. His gaze fixed on the other two men, he said, “Your first choice must always be to run away. If you see danger or violence, avoid it at all costs. If at first you can’t run, you fight to get away. Then you run. Kill if you have to, but run. Marc and Jeremy are at a different level entirely.”

  She crossed her arms and cupped her elbows. “How do you get there from here?”

  She half-expected him to spout a trainer’s rhetoric. Train every day, work your ass off, don’t make excuses or slack off, blah blah blah.

  Instead, Raoul turned to give her his full attention. When at first he didn’t speak, she turned to face him as well, growing self-conscious at his intent, thoughtful expression.

  He said, “To get to where Marc or Jeremy is, you have to change the conversations in your head.”

  She frowned uneasily. “What do you mean?”

  “When you face a confrontation, you have to decide if whether you live or die is part of your agenda. Either you fight to survive, and that’s your goal, or you fight to put your opponent down, no matter what the cost. Those are two separate conversations, and the decision for them has to come from here.” He tapped her on her breastbone with the back of his knuckles. “That basic choice affects your capacity to act in the world. You can train as much as you like, but you won’t ever become what they are until you decide to.”

  When Raoul deemed they had watched enough of the fight, he turned away and beckoned for her to follow, which she did thoughtfully. They reached a separate training mat, and as Raoul turned toward her, she faced him.

  “Making a decision is all very well and good,” she said. “But you also have to factor in your opponent, and whether or not he’s a Vampyre or some other kind of Elder Races creature that is much faster, stronger and more Powerful than you are. That would take strategy and tactics.”

  Raoul raised his eyebrows. “Of course.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “So, when do you start teaching me how I can possibly take down those stronger, more Powerful creatures instead of just focusing on these basic maneuvers?”

  He smiled. “As soon as you can surprise me.”

  “That’s it, you just want me to surprise you?” She gave him a wary squint. “You don’t want me to pin you, or score some kind of hit?”

  “That would be asking far too much of you,” he told her gently. “Now, on your guard, if you please.”

  If you please.

  Yeah, that was never a good sign.

  She took the appropriate stance, as he had taught her, and he slammed her down onto the mat. Even though he was just a human, he could move so fast, she often never saw him coming.

  As lithe as a normal athlete in his twenties, Raoul straightened and turned away to wait until she recovered.

  Then she rolled to her feet, and they went at it again.

  While listening to the others talking over lunch, she found out that Xavier was due to return some time that night, and her nerves bunched into a jangled mess.

  Even though she had no real idea what Xavier did in the business of running the Nightkind demesne, she knew he was a very busy and important man. He would have any number of matters to attend to once he arrived home.

  No doubt she was far down on his list of things to do, but sooner or later, he would turn his attention to her once again. She might not be exactly comfortable here, but her days had fallen into a certain rhythm that she had started to depend upon. Xavier’s return threatened to throw all of that into chaos.

  • • •

  With a sense of weary relief, Xavier drove his Jaguar through the gates of his estate shortly before eleven that evening. The house was ablaze with lights, the lawn a softly shadowed green carpet that fell away to glimpses of the ocean that gleamed darkly in the moonlight.

  The scene was beautiful, welcoming and peaceful.

  As he pulled to a stop, the front door opened and Diego jogged lightly down the steps to the car, greeting him with a ready smile.

  “Good evening, sir.”

  “Hello, Diego.” Xavier smiled at the other man. Diego was handsome, thirty, energetic and ambitious, but thankfully he was also likeable, which helped to balance out the rest. “How are you?”

  “Good, thanks. And you?”

  “Glad to be home.” He realized he had automatically taken the car keys from the ignition, and he tossed them to the other man. “Please take my things inside.”

  “Of course.”

  Angelica, Jordan and Raoul were waiting for him just inside, their faces warm with welcome. He had kept up-to-date on all the daily happenings via text messages, emails and phone calls, but it was still heartwarming to see their pleasure at his return.

  He touched Angelica’s arm. “How are you? Well, I hope?”

  She nodded, her lined face wreathed in a smile. “Yes, it’s been very peaceful here, as always.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I could use some peace right now.” He turned his attention to Jordan. “And you?”

  “About to go on vacation, sir.” Jordan grinned. “Only two more days now.”

  “Very nice. Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to spend a week in Mendocino.”

  “That’ll be a nice break for you. I’m glad you’re getting away for a while.” After he finished speaking, he met Raoul’s gaze.

  Smoothly, Raoul turned to Jordan and said, “Please bring a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and a bottle of bloodwine to the study.”

  Jordan inclined his head. “Right away.”

  The pleasantries over, Xavier walked into his study, where a bright fire was already filling the room with warmth and light. The windows had been propped open, allowing a fresh breeze to flow into the room.

  He enjoyed the combination of the fresh, cool night air and the warmth from the fire. Everything had been arranged just as he liked it.

  As he strolled to his chair, he shrugged out of his jacket, tugged off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt at the neck and wrists, and rolled up his sleeves. The book he had been reading before he had left lay where he had left it, on the table beside his chair. A sense of comfort stole over him.

  Raoul followed, closing the door behind him. “How was New York?”

  “Interesting, and a much needed change of pace after all the council meetings last month. Dragos spared no expense on the Games. He’s quite the showman when he decides to be.” He rubbed his dry eyes and relaxed with a sigh. “I got Melisande to agree to the last of the trade proposals.”

  Raoul raised his eyebrows. “That will have pissed Justine off.”

  “The thought has given me a great deal of satisfaction, after everything she did to sabotage this year’s council sessions.”

  “You’ve made a bad enemy of her.”

  “She’s made a bad enemy of me,” he said softly.

  “I mean it, Xavier.” Raoul’s expression was serious. “By blocking what she tried to do with Melisande and the council, you’ve gone from being an annoying inconvenience to a serious impediment to Justine’s goals. She won’t forgive or forget that. You need to watch your back.”

  As he talked, Jordan tapped at the door and brought in their drinks. Raoul poured bloodwine for him, and the Cabernet Sauvignon for himself.

  Xavier gestured with one hand. “Enough. I�
��m sick to death of all of it. Tell me how things are going here.”

  While Raoul talked about the mundane day-to-day events, Xavier leaned his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes, sipped his bloodwine and listened. It was a thoroughly pleasant way to unwind, until Raoul brought up Tess.

  Interest sparked through his growing laziness. He asked, “How is she doing?”

  Raoul remained silent for so long, he lifted his head to look at the other man. Not that he gained much information by doing so. Raoul could be entirely inscrutable when he wanted to be, which was one of the many reasons why Xavier valued him.

  Finally, Raoul said, “She’s tenacious.”

  Amused, he smiled. “Is that the best you can say?”

  Raoul didn’t return his smile. “I think she’s a loose cannon.”

  Remembering how Tess had hacked his email and, later on, how she had broken his rules and eavesdropped on his conversation with Melisande, he gave an infinitesimal shrug. “I like loose cannons. They think creatively, and shake up the status quo.”

  “I’ll tell you what I told her this morning,” Raoul said. “I see her as a dangerous liability. She is by far the weakest link in this household. She’s weaker and slower than any of us, and her loyalties are undefined and uncommitted at best.”

  His smile faded, and he stared into the bright golden flames of the fire. While Raoul’s assessment was fair, there was something about Tess that might be worth the time and effort they poured into her. Some indefinable thing, maybe the very tenacity of which Raoul spoke, along with that delicious spark of defiance.

  “I remember you emailed me when her background check came back,” he said. “It was clean.”

  “Yes, it was. Aside from the fact that she worked at one of the major casinos in Las Vegas, there was nothing of note in it. But then standard background checks reveal very little.” Raoul shrugged, and his wry gaze met his. “After all, neither you nor I have been convicted of any crime either.”

  “True enough, my friend.” His smile returned to tug at the corners of his lips.

  “I also took the liberty of searching through all the Las Vegas newspapers for anything that might seem odd, or for any mention of a reported theft from the casino where she worked, but I didn’t find anything.”

  “Good enough. Anything else?”

  Raoul shook his head. “Even though I’ve made things hard on her, she’s done everything I’ve asked of her. That’s it.”

  He mulled things over. Her fear of Vampyres—of him—had been so palpable he wouldn’t be surprised if she was holed up in her room that very moment, worrying about how their next meeting would go.

  While he had been looking forward to relaxing for the rest of the night, it might be a kindness to meet with her first and get it over with. If nothing else, they could establish next steps. Besides, after dealing with so much politics over the last five weeks, with the veiled smiles, insincere platitudes and outright aggressions, the thought of looking into her dark eyes and seeing the honesty of her emotions sounded downright refreshing.

  Would she still be as afraid of him as she was when they had first met? He thought of the plush softness of her lips underneath his thumb. She had not backed away when he had touched her. Instead, she had stood watching him, her dark gaze curious.

  He shouldn’t have touched her. He shouldn’t have wanted to, and he certainly shouldn’t have thought about it so often over the last six weeks.

  But he had, and she had let him. Perhaps that meant she would be calmer now, more open and friendly.

  For the moment, he kept his decision private and savored the anticipation as he turned his attention elsewhere. “How are the others doing?”

  “They’re ready to go out,” Raoul told him. “Aaron knows it and he’s patiently waiting. Marc and Jeremy are champing at the bit. The only thing Scott lacks is self-confidence, but he’ll acquire that soon enough when he gets into the field. Brian’s perfect in every way. I couldn’t ask for a better agent.”

  “High praise. Please set up a schedule of one-on-one meetings with everyone, will you? It’s time they each get their first assignment.”

  “Certainly.” Raoul sipped his wine. “You know they’ll be happy to get a chance to visit with you, and they’ll be ecstatic at the thought of getting in the field. Anything else?”

  “Yes,” Xavier said. “Would you fetch Tess for me? I want you to be ready with your phlebotomy equipment in case she needs it. I should have done this the night she arrived. One way or another, it’s time for her to offer blood.”

  “As you wish.” Raoul set aside his glass, stood and left.

  Xavier finished his glass of bloodwine while he waited. The study was one of his favorite parts of the house, quiet and peaceful and filled with the kind of books he loved that prompted reflection. His only regret was that he didn’t get as much time to spend in it as he would have liked.

  A quick rap sounded at the door, and it opened before he could invite the newcomer in. Raoul would never do such a thing. He suppressed a smile, folded his hands together and watched his tenacious, problematic trainee approach.

  Tess looked very different, and he absorbed the changes with a blink. She wore the loose black training pants that were de rigueur at the estate, along with a formfitting black tank top. Her dark hair had grown a touch longer. The ends now kissed along the graceful wings of her collarbones.

  She had also lost some weight, and healthy muscle flowed under the tanned skin of her slim arms. She didn’t move quite as fluidly as one might expect from the changes in her physique. Instead, she held herself with a certain stiffness that indicated she was more than a little sore. Xavier knew from experience that Raoul could be a demanding taskmaster, and it was clear that he had not spared her.

  Her face looked more angular as well, but not in an unhealthy way. The change was small but startling. It highlighted the proud lines in her bone structure, and he realized the casual eye would no longer travel over her in search of brighter creatures. She had been pretty enough in her own quiet way before, but now she had grown arresting.

  He frowned, troubled by the realization.

  As she grew closer, he could hear the sound of her heart pounding, and taste the scent of her fear.

  Abruptly his disquiet turned to disappointment and anger. He snapped, “Have I given you any reason to believe you are in danger from me? Have I not done the exact opposite, and tried my very best to make you feel at ease here, in my own home?”

  The look in her large, dark eyes turned wry. She didn’t hesitate, but approached him at the same, steady pace as she had entered the room, even though her heart rate sped up even further.

  When she reached the empty armchair, she sat and folded her hands together in a deliberate mimicry of his position. “What does reason have to do with fear?”

  That drew him up short. He stared at her, eyes narrowed, while a muscle bunched in his jaw. Moments ticked by as they regarded each other. Her expression was resolute, her gaze steady. Raoul had the right of it; she was tenacious.

  He did something that had become completely unnecessary over the last several hundred years, once he had died as a human man. He drew in a breath.

  Abruptly, he grew aware of his own uncharacteristic loss of temper, and his anger turned onto himself. It had been a mistake to try to see her tonight, when he had only just returned.

  “My apologies,” he said, his tone abrupt. “I should not have sent for you tonight. I’m tired and low on patience, and I should have known better.”

  Startlement flashed in her gaze, and she lowered her eyelids. “It isn’t your fault,” she said. “It’s mine. I’m sorry.”

  Was it her fault, he thought bitterly, when she faced a predator that could overpower her completely and feed on her until she died?

  Or wasn’t her fear the most reaso
nable reaction after all?

  EIGHT

  He couldn’t remember the last time he was so irritated with himself. Slicing his hand through the air, he rejected her words with the gesture. “We should start over. Or better still, we should meet on another night.”

  He watched her lovely mouth compress and counted three of her quickened heartbeats. Then she said in a measured, courteous tone, “How did your trip to New York go? Good, I hope?”

  Coming from her, it was a major effort at conciliation. Just as abruptly as his temper had flared, it faded completely. “It was good, thank you. How has the training gone these last six weeks?”

  She glanced at him from underneath her lowered lids, a sly, wary look. “It’s been eventful. A lot of hard work.”

  His mouth twitched. Watching her attempt polite conversation with him was rather excruciating, and he didn’t know whether to be amused or irritated by it. “I’ll have the real truth now, if you please.”

  “It’s been bloody awful,” she confessed in a rush. “I know he’s a friend of yours, but Raoul is a sadist.”

  His eyebrows shot up. Whatever he had expected from this conversation, this wasn’t it. “He is?”

  She nodded. “Ibuprofen has become a staple in my diet, but I can now run for a full hour, although I slow down quite a bit toward the end. I can also strip and load four different guns, and hit the bull’s-eye on the target nine times out of ten. And I still have no idea what the daggers at dinner mean.”

  He repeated, “Daggers at dinner.”

  “You know, the little ones that are set at the twelve o’clock position at each dinner plate on a formal table setting.” She glanced with undisguised longing at the opened bottle of Chateau Sauvignon sitting on the table beside her chair.

  He pinched his nose and smiled. “Do help yourself to some wine. I’ll call for a fresh glass.”

  She sat straight and reached for Raoul’s wineglass. “Thanks, don’t bother. I don’t mind using this one. It’s not like anybody at the estate is sick.”

  “True enough.” He watched her pour the wine into the glass. Its color wine was lovely in the firelight, red like rubies, like blood. “I’ve asked Raoul to prepare his phlebotomy equipment. It’s past time you offer blood. Unless, of course, you wish for me to take it from the vein.”