by Becky Allen
“I am sure you can guess.”
“Did her father send you?”
“No. I have not spoken to my brother in quite some time.”
Zack gestured at the bar behind him. “Can I get you something to drink?” He already knew the answer, but for the moment, he thought it better to pretend he didn’t know Sherrad was a vampire.
“No, thank you.” Stefan glanced at the patrons crowding along the bar. “Perhaps we could speak in private.”
“Sure.” Zack moved away from the bar and walked swiftly toward the elevator. He didn’t look back to see if Sherrad followed.
They were silent until they reached Zack’s office.
Stefan glanced around. The room was large, sparsely furnished with a desk, a computer, a file cabinet, and a couple of chairs.
Zack took a seat behind the desk, gesturing for Stefan to take the other chair. “What do you want?”
“I would like to know what your intentions are toward my niece.”
“I’m in love with her,” Zack said. “Not that it’s any of your business. She’s a big girl, after all.”
“She is her father’s heir.”
“So?”
“Do you know who he is?”
“She said he was a businessman in Romania. I assume he’s rich,” Zack said with a shrug. “But so am I.”
“Is that all she told you?”
“What else is there?”
Stefan studied the other man, wondering just how much Ravenscroft really knew. It seemed unlikely that Kaitlyn would have revealed her true nature to a mortal. To do so was strictly forbidden. Yet Ravenscroft claimed to be in love with Kaitlyn, and if she was in love with him . . .
Stefan sighed, remembering Cosmina. She had been mortal, and he had broken the laws of their people when he confided in her. But what man of honor could make love to a woman and not tell her the truth? He was sorely afraid that Kaitlyn would feel the same.
“I wanted to meet you,” Stefan said, “to let you know I am taking Kaitlyn home.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“She hasn’t mentioned it to me.”
“I have not yet spoken with her.”
“What if she doesn’t want to go?”
“I am afraid the choice is not hers. Her life is in danger here, as you well know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am talking about Daryn Korzha. I believe you killed him.”
“You know about that?”
Stefan nodded once, curtly. “She is not safe here.”
Rising, Zack leaned forward, hands braced against the top of the desk. “I think I’ve proven I can take care of her.”
“Perhaps,” Stefan said, also rising. “But there are things going on you are not yet aware of.”
“Is that right?”
“For your own safety, I advise you not to pry into affairs that do not concern you. Good evening.”
Zack frowned thoughtfully as Stefan Sherrad left his office. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he muttered. “Anything that concerns Kaitlyn is my affair.”
Kaitlyn was dressing for her date with Zack when the doorbell rang. He was early, she thought, glancing at her watch. A last look in the mirror, and she hurried down the hallway to open the front door.
And came face-to-face with a short, stocky man holding a gun. She knew, by the blank expression in his eyes, that he was under some sort of mind control.
Had Nadiya sent him? If so, had she told him to kill her?
“You. Will come. With me,” he said, gesturing with the gun for her to follow him. “Now!” he added, when she didn’t move.
Kaitlyn stared at him, her mind racing. She took a step forward, intending to wrest the gun from his hand, when a dark shape rose up out of the shadows to her left and slammed into the man, knocking him off balance so that he tumbled down the porch stairs.
Without waiting to see who her champion was, Kaitlyn slammed the door and locked it, then stood there, one hand pressed to her heart. She was debating what to do next when she heard a knock at the door.
Was it the gunman? Or the man who had apparently come to her rescue? She hadn’t heard any gunshots. Did that mean the intruder had been incapacitated?
She tapped her foot a moment, then peered out the front window. And into a face that looked remarkably like her father’s. Could it be . . . ?
“Kaitlyn, open the door.”
His words carried the sound of home and she opened the door, then stood there, too stunned to speak.
“Kaitlyn.”
She stared at him a moment: Was it possible?
“I am your unc . . .”
“Stefan.” It could be no one else. He looked enough like her father to be his twin. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?” She glanced to the left, then the right. “Who was that man? Where is he?”
“Perhaps we could discuss it inside?” her uncle suggested.
“Yes, of course, come in.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder as he followed her into the living room. It was amazing, how much he looked like her father. She gestured at the sofa. “Please, sit down.”
“Thank you.”
She sat beside him, unable to stop staring.
“I know,” he said, smiling. “Your father and I look much alike.”
“You could be twins. What are you doing here?”
“I was traveling when I heard that one of the Korzhas had been killed in Lake Tahoe. I was naturally curious, since we are related.” He shrugged. “A little snooping here, a few questions there, and I overheard your name. I came here to see if it was indeed you.”
“Who was that man?” she asked again.
“I do not know. But he will not bother you anymore.”
That could mean only one thing, but it was hard to feel sympathy for a man who had pointed a gun at her. “What do you think he wanted?”
“You do not know?”
She shook her head. “Know what?”
Before he could explain, the doorbell rang again. Startled, she glanced at Stefan.
“I will get it,” he said.
Kaitlyn nodded. She told herself there was nothing to worry about. But she clenched her hands in her lap when Stefan opened the door.
A moment passed. Another. He stood there, unmoving, not speaking.
And then she heard her father’s voice, thick with emotion. “Stefan!”
Hardly aware of what she was doing, Kaitlyn stood as her father threw his arms around his brother and crushed him close in a hug that would likely have crushed a mortal’s ribs. “Stefan! Where have you been? What are you doing here?”
“Trying to breathe,” Stefan answered with a grin.
Drake released him immediately. “Forgive me, but I am so glad to see you.”
Stefan nodded. “And I you, brother.”
Drake’s gaze ran over Stefan. “You look well. Liliana has missed you. You should have kept in touch with her.” The unspoken words, and with me, hung in the air between them. “How could you stay away so long?”
“I needed time.”
“Promise me you will never again stay away so long.”
“I missed you, too,” Stefan said.
“I will have your promise,” Drake insisted.
“You have it.”
Kaitlyn saw tears in her uncle’s eyes, felt the sting of tears in her own eyes as the two men embraced again.
When they parted, Stefan cleared his throat. “Since you are here, I assume you know Kaitlyn is in danger.”
“Yes, it is the reason I am here,” Drake said as the two men moved into the living room.
“Just in time,” Stefan said, and quickly told her father about the gunman who had been there earlier.
“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here,” Kaitlyn said, coming up behind the two men. “What’s this all about, anyway?”
“I have come to take you home.”
“But I don’t want to go home!” she exclaimed.
“That decision is no longer yours. I am certain Nadiya is behind these attacks on you,” Drake said. “I am not sure what she intends, only that you are involved. My guess is she is planning to use you to get to me.”
“Why?” Kaitlyn asked, frowning. “You didn’t have anything to do with Daryn’s death.”
“I believe she means to avenge herself on me for Florin’s death, and also for Daryn’s. She knows the best way to hurt me is to harm you. You are not safe here.”
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
Stefan lifted one brow, as if to remind her of the man on the porch.
She glared at him. “I could have handled him by myself.”
“This is not a matter open to discussion,” Drake said. “My decision has been made. We are leaving here tonight.”
“I’m not . . .” Kaitlyn began, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door, and Zack’s voice, calling, “Hey, Katy, I know I’m late, but . . .”
Zack paused inside the door. Katy stood between Stefan and another man who could only be her father. “Looks like I picked a bad time to come calling.”
Kaitlyn blew out an exasperated sigh. “You have no idea.”
“Introduce us, Kaitlyn,” the taller of the two men said.
“Dad, this is Zack, the man who saved my life. Zack, this is my father, Drake Sherrad. And this is my uncle Stefan. . . .”
“We’ve met,” Zack said.
“Oh? I didn’t know.” She had a feeling there were a lot of things she didn’t know.
“So,” Zack said, glancing from her father to her uncle, “what’s going on?”
“I have come to take my daughter home,” Drake said in a voice that left no room for argument. “If you will excuse us, we are preparing to leave.”
“Dad . . .”
“Tell him good-bye, Kaitlyn. We are going. Now.”
“You don’t have to go with him, Katy,” Zack said. “You’re over twenty-one.”
Drake glared at him. “How dare you suggest my daughter defy me! Get out of here, now!”
“Not without Kaitlyn.”
Zack reached for her, but the other vampire moved quicker.
Drake’s arm snaked around Kaitlyn’s waist. There was a rush of preternatural power, and Drake and his daughter were gone.
Stefan’s gaze locked with Zack’s for a brief moment, almost as if there was something he wanted to say, and then, he, too was gone.
Zack swore a vile oath. “This doesn’t end here,” he muttered angrily. “Not by a long shot!”
Chapter 18
Kaitlyn glared at her father. “How could you?”
“I did what was best for you.” And in the worst possible way, Drake thought. He never should have used his preternatural power in front of a mortal, but it was too late to worry about that now, or wonder what Ravenscroft thought of their unusual leave-taking. But it didn’t matter. Even if Ravenscroft was foolish enough to tell someone what he had seen, no one would believe him.
“You had no right!” Kaitlyn blinked back her tears. Turning her back on her father, she stared out the window at the valley below. Snow covered the distant mountains and dusted the leaves of the trees. She pressed a hand to her stomach. She still felt a little queasy after being transported so swiftly from her cabin in Lake Tahoe to the Carpathian Fortress. She had never really liked it here. It was too big, too cold. But it was more than that. Her father was a different man here. At Wolfram Castle, he was Dad, the man who pampered her and spoiled her, the father who had read her stories at bedtime and played Barbies on the floor with her when she was a little girl. At the Fortress, he was all business, the head of their coven, the Master of the Carpathian Fortress. It was a responsibility he took seriously and it colored everything he did, every decision he made.
“Kaitlyn, look at me.”
She could have refused her father, but not the Master of the Coven. She turned to look at him, her expression sullen. “What?”
“Do you understand that you are in danger? I know you think your vampire blood makes you invincible, but it does not. Nadiya wants revenge against me. She knows you and your mother are my only weaknesses. I cannot keep you safe in America. I do not trust anyone else to do so. You may be angry with me for this. You may even hate me for a time. But until the threat to your life no longer exists, you will stay here. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Kaitlyn.” His voice softened, along with his harsh expression.
She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes as he closed the distance between them and took her in his arms.
With a sigh, Kaitlyn rested her head on his chest. Her father loved her. Of that she had no doubt. But, danger or no danger, he had to let her live her own life. She wasn’t a child anymore.
Elena smiled at Kaitlyn. “You can’t blame your father for worrying,” she said. “Not only about you, but about everyone in the Fortress.”
“I don’t understand why Nadiya has everyone so worried. Does she have that much power?”
“Of herself? No. But she has other sons, and there are rumors that she has made an alliance with the Master of the Italian Fortress. If she isn’t stopped . . .” Elena’s voice trailed off. Although it had happened over twenty years ago, she remembered all too clearly when the Master of the Irish Coven had challenged Drake’s father for possession of the Carpathian Coven.
The two Master Vampires, both bare-chested and armed with silver-bladed swords, had met in a clearing below the Fortress under the light of a full moon. Hidden behind a tree with Stefan, Elena had watched the bloody battle, had watched, sickened by the sight, as, with one slash of his sword, Rodin had severed Gerret’s head from his body. She had turned away in horror, so she had not seen what happened next. But she had heard Liliana’s high-pitched scream of denial. When Elena turned back, Rodin lay dead on the ground, a long wooden stake protruding from his heart. Liliana knelt beside her husband, a look of horrified disbelief on her face. Drake had Florin by the throat.
Elena had thought the battle finished, but she had been wrong. Minutes had passed, and then Liliana rose to her feet. Eyes blazing, her cheeks streaked with scarlet tears, she had picked up her husband’s sword. Standing tall and proud, she had called for a champion to avenge her husband’s death. Every member of the council had taken a step forward, as had Stefan and Drake. To this day, Elena remembered the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when Liliana had offered the blade to Drake. Still hidden in the shadows, Elena had watched Drake take hold of his father’s sword. He had defeated Florin in battle and in so doing, had become the new Master of the Carpathian Fortress.
More than twenty years had passed since that dreadful night, but the memories of that hour remained as fresh in her mind as if it had happened only yesterday.
“You’re afraid for Dad, aren’t you?” Kaitlyn asked. It had never occurred to her that anything could happen to her father. He was so tall and strong, always confident and in control, she had always thought him to be as indestructible as the mountain on which the Fortress was built.
Elena nodded. “If Rodin could be destroyed . . .”
Her mother didn’t finish the sentence, but Kaitlyn knew what she was thinking. If Drake’s father, who had lived for over a thousand years, could be destroyed, it could happen to any of them.
Lying in bed later that night, Kaitlyn pondered the conversation she’d had with her mother. She had had no idea things were so serious, or that her father’s life might be in danger. Having grown up in Wolfram instead of the Fortress, Kaitlyn suddenly realized that she was ignorant of much of the history of their people. Sure, her parents had taught her the basics, taken her to the Fortress to meet her relatives, explained what was expected of her when she was old enough to take a husband. She had attended weddings and other formal functions in the company of her parents, she knew she was expected to marry, and to produce children as lo
ng as she was able. It was something she had accepted without question. Until she met Zack.
Being with him, getting to know him, she had come to the realization that she didn’t want an arranged marriage, didn’t want to spend her life in the Fortress doing what was expected of her. She wanted to stay in Lake Tahoe with the man she loved.
Blinking back tears, she turned onto her side. She shouldn’t be thinking about herself, or missing Zack. She should be worrying about her father, about what might happen if he had to meet the Italian Master Vampire in battle to defend the Fortress.
A cold fear clutched her heart. She was her father’s heir. If there was a fight and her father lost, would she be expected to meet the victor in battle? Surely not! She had never held a sword in her life. Surely her uncle Andrei or uncle Stefan, or one of the other brothers, would step forward to meet the challenge.
Wouldn’t they?
With Stefan’s return, Elena decided they should have a party to welcome him home.
“A party?” Drake asked. “Now?”
“Why not now?” Elena asked.
“I can think of any number of reasons,” he replied dryly.
Elena heaved a sigh of exasperation. “I think we’ll be safe for a few hours. It’s not like Nadiya’s going to come here looking for Kaitlyn. And Stefan’s been gone such a long time.” Rising, she moved into her husband’s arms. “Please, Drake?”
“How big a party do you have in mind?”
“Just the Sherrad family.”
He grunted softly. “Very well.” There had never been any doubt that she would get her way, he thought ruefully. In all their married life, he had rarely denied Elena anything she wished. It had pleased him to spoil her, to grant her every wish whenever possible.
“Stefan looks good,” Elena remarked, “but the sadness is still there, in his eyes. Do you think he’ll ever get over her?”
Drake stroked her hair, loving the feel of it in his hands, the way the silky strands curled around his fingers. “I hope so.”
“If only he’d fall in love again.”
Lowering his head, Drake kissed her lightly. “Love heals all?”