“Tegan is on a specific diet, Martha knows it best,” Leonid stood. “But please, if you think you can dissuade her from your kitchen, be my guest.”
“Be your guest because you will be gone?” Salem laughed without humour. “I might let Marcus deal with her.”
“Now who’s the coward?” Leonid laughed softly as he poured another bourbon for them both.
“True,” Salem accepted his drink. “So, what do you think is afoot with the Council?”
“I don’t know. Which is why I must go,” Leonid admitted softly. “The Great Council were at Silver Lake recently, they mentioned nothing to me that would interest the Vampyre Council. A rise in Drakyhn activity, but we have all witnessed that. Tegan patrols nightly.”
“Alone?” Salem’s tone was sharp.
“She is more than capable,” Leonid defended his daughter and his own actions.
“No Sentinel patrols alone,” Salem replied grimly. “And how many Drakyhn could you have in Silver Lake?”
“She patrols a wide area. I do not restrict her to our home in Manitoba.”
Salem ran his hand over his face. “She just turned eighteen, Leonid.” Taking a deep drink of his bourbon, he continued. “You put her at risk.”
“You need to see her fight,” Leonid swirled his drink in his glass before finishing it. “Trust me, she is something to behold.”
“I don’t care if she is Velvore himself, all Sentinels should patrol in pairs,” Salem snapped.
“No need to take the Ancients name in vain, Salem. I thought you were more pious than that.”
Salem scoffed as he finished his bourbon. “How long do you think you will be gone?”
“All this small talk,” Leonid smiled at his former student. “When this was the question you wanted to ask from the beginning.” Salem shrugged nonchalantly, but he didn’t meet Leonid’s gaze. “I do not know how long I will be gone. It will take a week to get to the Vampyre Council and then, knowing my wife, there will be countless dinners, events, balls,” Leonid’s scorn was evident in his voice, “before she even gets to the reason for my summoning.”
“I only met her once, but yes, she did seem to favour tradition.”
“Diplomacy?” Leonid bowed his head in acknowledgment. “You have matured well, Salem.”
Salem laughed, a genuine laugh. “It’s been a long time, Leonid, I have two children and a Headquarters to run.”
“You proved to your naysayers you were fit to be Heir.”
“I did. Although, Tegan will stir them from their dusty corners.” Salem sighed. “Yes, they will crawl out of the woodwork for Celeste’s daughter.” He poured another drink. “Want one?”
“Please.” Leonid watched Salem carefully. “Will you protect her?”
“Of course.”
“She is not versed in the combat of court.”
“Michael will teach her and Sloane,” Salem answered confidently. “What else does she need to be taught?”
“Dresses.”
“What?” Salem put his drink down on the desk in surprise.
“I have never been able to get her to wear one. Even as a child.” Leonid shook his head in remembrance.
“You sure she is Celeste’s?” Salem joked, then instantly sobered. “Sorry, that was… inappropriate.”
“It was harmless,” Leonid murmured, “Celeste was obsessed with dressing up,” he smiled softly as he thought of her. “She would have never accepted Tegan’s abhorrence for clothes.”
“An intervention would have been called before the Great Council,” Salem smiled fondly, Leonid snorted in agreement.
“Completely preposterous and so very Celeste,” Leonid sighed. “So yes, Court and dresses. Tactics, fighting, patrols, you need not worry – she is exemplary.”
“And her schooling?”
“I have taught her all she needs to know about the Ancients, Supernaturals and of course, the Drakyhn.”
“And humans?”
“She has no interest in humans.”
“Still, Leonid? After all this time?” Salem looked at his former master sadly.
“They aren’t worthy of her knowledge. She knows she protects them when she patrols. She has no desire to interact with them.”
“I can’t believe you’re still so blind.”
“Let us not rake the coals over old fires Salem,” Leonid’s voice was firm, devoid of humour.
“Fine. We’ll teach her what she is lacking.” At Leonid’s sharp gaze, Salem continued, “About Court and dressing for Court. How did she conduct herself in front of the Great Council?”
“With perfection.”
“They never stayed longer than the Trial, did they?” Salem asked sardonically.
“I did not invite them to, no.”
“By the Ancients, you’re the only being in this world that would get away with that,” Salem looked at him in admiration. “Pity you never taught me that trick.”
“I did, you just weren’t listening,” Leonid stood. “Let us go find my daughter. She will need to rest soon.”
“My daughter, Leonid,” Salem corrected softly, he felt their momentary truce slip away when Leonid glanced at him and smirked, before walking out of the room. “Bloody Vampyre hasn’t changed at all,” Salem muttered as he followed. He didn’t need to see Leonid to know that he would have heard him, or that he would probably be amused.
Tegan watched the cook watch her, as Blythe prepared a light meal for her, which seemed to be a full roast dinner. Sloane was disgruntled because Blythe had refused his request for a roast beef sandwich, saying that Tegan needed it all. Tegan had tried to tell her she didn’t and that’s when the distrust from the cook had begun. Added to the fact that she had refused potatoes and gravy, the staring had started not long after. As if she was a puzzle for Blythe to solve, she kept running her eyes over Tegan as if by looking at her, she would find her deformity for disliking potatoes. Blythe knew it wasn’t carbs Tegan was objecting to, as she had accepted the bread roll that she had handed to her, as a test no doubt, Tegan mused.
“Tegan? You were going to tell us about your schedule?” Marcus reminded her.
Breaking the stare-off with Blythe as she stayed close to her steaming pots, Tegan turned to Marcus and Sloane. “Yes, of course. What did you want to know?”
“Describe your typical day?” Marcus suggested.
“I get up at four-thirty, I run my laps for forty-five minutes, at five-fifteen Martha has a light breakfast ready for me. I eat breakfast from five-fifteen until five-thirty. At five-thirty, we have weapons training until eight.” Tegan took a bite of her bread roll. “At eight, I shower. At eight-fifteen I have breakfast, eggs, bacon, avocado. At eight forty-five, we do weapons history, every day is different. Father works with me for two hours on the weapon of the day. At ten forty-five, we have tea.” Tegan ate more of her bread roll. “At eleven I have martial arts training. We train for two hours. At one we have lunch. At two I study in the library for two hours.”
“What do you study?” Marcus asked softly.
“Wars. Drakyhn. Supernatural and sometimes if I have been lax in my training, the Ancients.” Tegan sighed. “I find the Ancients tedious reading material,” Tegan confessed softly. Sloane snorted in agreement and she smiled at him.
“That takes two hours?” Marcus asked. “So… from four?”
“From four we train until six. At six, I have free time until dinner. Dinner is at six-thirty, so I usually shower and relax. Dinner is usually an hour and then after dinner I spend in Reflection until nine. At nine, I do a perimeter check and go on patrol.”
“How long do you patrol for?” Marcus asked.
“Three to four hours, depending on how far I have gone,” Tegan shrugged.
“When do you sleep?” Sloane asked as Blythe placed a plate of food in front of Tegan. He immediately reached over and took a carrot off her plate, Tegan looked at him in question.
“When I get home from patrol. Do not do th
at again.” Her eyes flicked to her plate.
“So, say you are home for one in the morning,” Marcus paused waiting for Tegan to look at him, “Your morning starts still at four-thirty?”
“Of course,” Tegan cut into her beef and ate her meal enthusiastically.
“How many times a week do you have this schedule?” Sloane asked, reaching out for more food, he yelped when Tegan’s knife narrowly missed his fingers.
“I told you, do not do that.”
“Sorry,” Sloane mumbled as he glanced at Marcus.
“Tegan?” Marcus asked. “How often do you have that schedule?”
“Every day.”
“No way,” Sloane exclaimed. “That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.” Marcus glanced at him before he turned back to Tegan. “When Leonid trained me, I had a similar schedule, but I am Lycan.”
“You think I cannot have the same stamina as a Lycan?” Tegan smiled at Marcus as she put her cutlery down, her food finished.
“You eat fast for a female,” Sloane observed.
“You speak a lot, as typical for a male,” Tegan deadpanned, Blythe snorted as she collected her plate. “Thank you, that was delicious,” Tegan acknowledged.
“I think you’re eighteen and don’t know what it’s like to be young,” Marcus observed quietly.
“Daughter, did you eat?” Leonid asked from behind her. He and Salem had come quietly into the room as the others spoke.
“Yes, father. It was good,” Tegan got to her feet, lifting her pack from the floor. “I have not observed Reflection.”
“I know, come, we can do some soft training if you wish?”
“I would.” She didn’t notice Marcus’s scowl or Sloane’s incredulous look.
“Farewell,” Leonid bowed his head before turning and leading Tegan from the room.
Sloane waited a few moments before facing Marcus. “She’s a machine, she has to be.”
“She’s a soldier,” Michael said from the corner of the room.
“By the Ancients, Michael, I told you to stop that sneaky stuff!” Sloane exclaimed as he scowled at his friend who moved further into the kitchen and sat on the seat his sister had just vacated. “When did you even come in here?”
“Halfway through,” Michael smirked. “Marcus noticed.”
“He’s a Lycan,” Sloane rolled his eyes.
“She noticed too,” Michael commented quietly.
“Whatever,” Sloane grumbled as he slouched in his seat.
“She does that all day, every day.” Michael looked at Marcus before turning to his father, who had come in with Leonid. “I can see why she is Elite.”
“Her schedule is absolutely brutal,” Sloane muttered as he beamed at Cook, who placed a sandwich in front of him. “You know how much I love you, female?” Sloane winked at her she chuckled as she went back to her dishes.
“What did Leonid say when we were gone?” Michael asked.
“She needs training,” Salem sighed.
“Not likely,” Michael snorted.
“In Court and Court fashion,” Salem sighed again heavily. “I think we could introduce some human studies into her day also.”
“Same old prejudices?” Marcus asked.
“Yes.”
“Pity,” Marcus sighed as he leaned back.
“Fashion?” Michael asked.
“She won’t wear a dress,” Salem shrugged. “We hold Court here, plus we will need to see your father.” Salem directed the latter part to Sloane, who dropped his sandwich in distaste. “Sorry.”
“Why?” Michael groaned. “It’s always exhausting to deal with him.”
“He’s her uncle. Her legitimate uncle,” Salem reminded them all.
“He’s going to fight for her,” Marcus commented.
“Then he can fight,” Salem replied grimly, “and he will lose.”
“Are you alright?” Leonid asked softly as Tegan shrugged off her coat. He had taken them to a training room in Headquarters – Tegan was not surprised he knew his way around the building. She knew he had been here when her mother had visited but even though he had never spoken much of it, she suspected he was more familiar with this building than even her mother had been.
“I’m fine, father, they wanted to know my schedule nothing more,” she frowned, “and take my food.” Tegan recalled Sloane trying to take food off of her plate, even after she had asked him not to.
“Who tried to take your food?” Leonid hid his smile as he turned away from his daughter. She had always been territorial over her food, like a true hunter.
“The golden-haired one.”
“He is your cousin,” Leonid reminded her as he pulled off his outerwear. “And you know his name,” he chastised softly.
“I don’t think that means he can take my food,” Tegan grumbled as she took the kali sticks off the wall.
“He’s testing you,” Leonid took a stick from his daughter. “I thought I said light training?” He looked at his daughter with amusement as he tested the weight of his stick and checked the balance.
“I feel the need to hit something – hard.”
“Wonderful,” Leonid’s tone was dry.
“I will go easy on you, father,” Tegan smiled at her father as she leapt forward, her kali stick raised on the attack.
Leonid admired her speed and strength as they sparred, he was a Vampyre and if he didn’t know better, he would be questioning her own ancestry. They manoeuvred around the room seamlessly, the wooden thumping of the kali sticks the only noise in the room. Kali sticks were a common prop in their training, they were barely an inch in diameter, about twenty-eight inches long and made from bamboo. Leonid had been training Tegan in this martial art since she was a child. They were an excellent source of developing skills and combat training before progressing to hand-to-hand combat.
Tegan dropped and twisted under his strike and as she did, she swept his legs out from under him. Leonid was fast though, Tegan was barely on her feet and her father had regained his. Grinning, she spun away as he advanced on her across the floor, their sticks continually clashing, defending them, taking the blows meant for their bodies. His stick connected with Tegan’s torso and as it did so, she brought her own stick down on the back of his neck. The unexpected blow took him to his knees, his daughter was on him before he regained his footing, with another blow to the neck and then a side kick into the back of his legs.
Laughing, Leonid lay on the mats. “Enough daughter, you got me.”
“I did.” Her smile was wide as she wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve. “You are weary, father?” Tegan’s smile faded as she watched her father lie on the mat.
“No, you just bested me, daughter.” Leonid flipped to his feet effortlessly, tossing his stick to her. “Did you enjoy the practice?” He asked as he turned to the far wall of the room. Tegan frowned as she followed his gaze, she saw the glass panel, turning she walked quickly over to the wall and returned the kali sticks.
“We were merely curious, Leonid,” Salem’s voice came from a speaker on the wall that Tegan had seen and dismissed when she came into the room. Her father grunted in displeasure but didn’t respond.
“You could have asked,” he heard Tegan mutter as she stooped to pick up her coat.
“Are you okay?” Leonid asked her quietly.
“Yes, father. I would like a shower though,” her smile felt strained and she knew her father saw right through it. The doors to the training room opened and she watched as Salem, Marcus, Michael and Sloane came into the room.
“Hey, cuz, want me to show you to your room?” Sloane asked as he grinned at her. He came over and flung an arm around her shoulders. Tegan immediately stiffened, her eyes widening as she looked to her father.
“We would like that, thank you,” Leonid answered. “I suggest you remove your arm from your cuz, before she breaks it,” he added as he walked past them both.
“Serious?” Sloane asked incredulous
ly as he stepped away from Tegan in alarm. The grin she gave him as she walked away after the Vampyre did not settle his nerves. “Hey. How do you know which way to even go?” Sloane yelled as he hurried to catch up.
“This is not my first time here, Sloane,” Leonid said as Sloane caught up to them.
“I guessed that since you’re probably hundreds of years old, but how will you know which rooms Michael put you in?”
Leonid paused as he looked at Sloane, taking in his tall frame, broad shoulders and muscular physique. “You take after your father, but you have your mother’s eyes.”
“I know, everyone likes to remind me how much I look like my father,” Sloane grumbled. “But that doesn’t answer my question.” He scowled at Tegan as he saw her smother a smile.
“Michael knows I have been here before, he knows Tegan is his sister. I wanted two rooms beside each other, we will be in the family wing.” Leonid answered easily as he started up the staircase. “He’s not saying we are family, he is keeping us away from the other Sentinels.”
“Got all the answers, haven’t you?” Sloane watched Leonid carefully.
“No, I wish I did.” Leonid turned left at the top of the stairs and headed down one of the halls. “I know which section we are in, but I do need you to tell us the actual rooms.”
“You sure?” Sloane asked sarcastically, as he moved in front of them to lead the way. Leonid caught Tegan’s eye and winked as they followed.
Tegan felt her shoulders loosen as they followed Sloane. He was her cousin, an actual blood relative. She was still ignoring the fact she had been in the room with her father, no, her biological father and her half-brother, she wasn’t ready to deal with that. But Sloane? Sloane was a cousin and he seemed friendly, laid back and almost… playful? Apart from the food stealing – she was not okay with that.
“You’re in here,” Sloane opened the door to the bedroom and looked at Leonid.
“And Tegan?” Leonid asked without even looking into the room.
“You, my beautiful cousin, are here.” Sloane opened the door opposite the hall from Leonid’s.
Tegan walked in and immediately noticed the connecting door. “Who’s through there?”
Into Darkness: The Akrhyn Series (Book 1) Page 6