by Viehl, Lynn
Sam reached into her pocket and took out the heart-shaped crystal Chris had left behind on her desk. “One day you were a tough little street kid, and the next you’d become this strong, smart woman. You were more than a friend to me. You became my sister. I didn’t realize it was happening. Before you I never had a family. I don’t know why I never told you that. I should have.” Sam tucked the crystal into the heart of one of the red roses, closing its petals over it before she looked out at the sea. “Take care of her for me, Jamie.”
Sam placed the wreath on the edge of the next wave that rolled in, and straightened to watch the sea carry it out with the tide. It floated for a long time, whirling in a slow circle before a long curl of foam swept over it and it disappeared from sight.
Werren and the other women came to stand beside Sam and Lucan. As the courtesan murmured something in an old language, each woman tossed a coin into the water. Sam thought it was some Kyn variety on a wishing well before she realized the coins they were giving to the sea were actually Dutch’s golden medallions.
“You’re going to make some guy with a metal detector very rich tomorrow,” Sam said to Werren.
“’Tis fitting,” the courtesan said. “Dutch loved his gold as deeply as he hated mortals. Your lord has made it clear that we are unwelcome here, my lady. Do you wish us to go away now?”
“Is that what you and the girls want to do?”
Werren glanced at Lucan before she answered. “We have been a long time kept away from the world. None of us know how to properly conduct ourselves. But we have seen that you have very few Kyn females among your jardin, and men cannot properly attend to you and your ladies.” Werren nodded at the men of the garrison. “In exchange for sanctuary and instruction on how to live in this world, we will make ourselves your maidservants.”
“You were slaves. You don’t have to be maids or serve anyone for any reason, ever again.” The sound of a boat motor penetrated Sam’s misery, and she looked down the length of the pier to see the vague shape of a speedboat running slow and without lights. To Lucan, she said, “I think your gentle persuasion just wore off.”
Sam followed Lucan as he headed for the pier. “Don’t bother chasing them away,” she said, peering at the pair who had stepped off the boat. “We’re pretty much done here.”
Lucan stopped in his tracks. “On this I fear I must disagree with you, love.”
“What’s this? You’re arguing with me, instead of treating me like … an … invalid.” The scent carried on the breeze reminded Sam of sandalwood and orange blossoms, and hit her like a sap to the skull. “Jamie?”
It couldn’t be them, of course. The tall boy barely had an inch of dark hair covering his head, while the girl beside him had long, luxurious curls that fell to her waist. But as they drew closer, Sam saw their faces and grabbed Lucan’s hand. “You can disagree with me any time you like, my man.”
“My lord, my lady.” Jamys bowed and surveyed the Kyn staring at them from the beach. “Forgive the intrusion, which I hope is welcome.”
“You’re forgiven.” Sam launched herself at him, hugging him before she turned to grab Chris. “You exploded with the ship. We just did the funeral thing for you.” She kissed her friend, hugged her, and then shook her. “Where the hell have you been? Why didn’t you call us? Were you in a hospital? You blew up. I saw you blow up.”
“Yeah, we did kind of blow up. After that, I was really lost in space,” Chris said, and made a pained face. “And sort of dead for a week.”
Lucan took hold of her chin and studied her face. “She is no longer mortal.” He eyed Jamys. “You changed her. How?”
“Wait,” Sam said, looking over at the other Kyn. “Let’s go say hello to everyone who was just mourning you, and head back to the stronghold where we can have this discussion in private.”
It took some time to do that, as all the warriors and the women from the ship gathered around them to express their surprise and happiness. Lucan finally dismissed the men, and sent Aldan to take the women to one of their hotels. Once they reached the penthouse, however, Jamys had little in the way of answers to offer.
“The explosion sent us both into the water on the far side of the ship. At first I was separated from Christian, but after an hour of searching I found her, and brought her to the surface. By that time the fleet had left, but I was able to swim with her to where I left my boat anchored. From there I took her to a house on a nearby private island, where she remained with hardly a spark of life in her for the next week. I waited for as long as I dared to see if she would make the change. I was preparing to bring her back to the mainland when she awoke as she is.”
Lucan frowned at Chris. “What is that mark on her neck?”
“This?” Chris tugged down the collar of her T-shirt to display a cross-shaped burn scar. “The blast drove my mom’s crucifix into my skin. Jamys said he had to dig it out of me, and then things really got weird.”
“When I removed the cross, the open wound glowed with a green light,” Jamys said. “A few moments later, it healed itself from the inside out.”
“Did you use your blood to heal it?” Sam asked.
“No, but when Chris began to slip away, I fed her from my veins. It was a foolish act of pure desperation.” He glanced at Lucan. “I mean no offense, my lord.”
“I am only too well acquainted with those feelings, Jamys.” He regarded Chris. “You survived a lethal explosion and an hour under the water, so whatever changed you happened before the bomb went off.”
“Nothing happened. Well, besides Dutch practically draining me dry.” Chris reached up and touched the scar on her neck. “This sounds crazy, I know, but I think it might have been my mom’s cross. Like maybe God decided to give me and Jamys another chance.”
Sam had seen too many murders to believe in that kind of God, but she was so happy to have Chris back she didn’t care what had done the dirty work. “How do you feel about being one of the fang gang?”
“Still trying to get used to it.” She laced her fingers through Jamys’s. “When I first came to, I thought I was in the afterlife. A really great afterlife. When Jamys told me that I’d changed, and we could finally be together, well …” She smiled at Lucan. “I love you both, and I loved being an almost-tresora, but I quit.”
Epilogue
Durand Stronghold
Freeport, Bahamas
“How long is that boy going to pace the floor out there?” Dr. Alexandra Keller asked as she finished checking Chris Durand’s pupil reactions.
“Until you let me change out of this paper towel and I can go reassure him I’m okay.” Chris fluttered her lashes. “So tell me I’m okay, Doc.”
“You’re more than okay. You’ve made a beautiful, complete transition and all of the wounds you sustained in the explosion have healed cleanly.” She clicked off her penlight. “All you have to do is give me some more blood, tell me what superpower you got stuck with, and I’m outta here.”
“I don’t know the name for my ability,” Chris admitted. “I could show you how it works, though.” She eyed the door, and a low sound came from the other side. “I can touch another Kyn without actually touching them. I haven’t tried it on mortals yet, but it probably works on them, too.”
“Psychic touchy-feely.” Alex made a note in the chart. “Now, that’s a new one.”
Chris grinned. “My range is pretty good, too. I can be a mile away and give him a kiss.” She blew one at the door, which resulted in a soft groan. “Anywhere on his body.”
“Let’s keep it PG-rated while I’m here.” Alex closed the chart and sat down on the chair next to the bed. “Chris, the fact is you’re too young to be Kyndred, so you weren’t changed because you already had vampire DNA. Just to be sure, I double-checked the blood work the jardin doc did on you when you started working at the stronghold. You went from ordinary human to Kyn without any help, except maybe this.” She tapped the top of the cross-shaped scar. “I think your cross m
ight have had similar properties to one that may have recently turned a Frenchwoman from mortal to Kyn.”
“Does it matter?”
“It might.” Alex hesitated before she said, “I compared your old blood tests to hers to see what genes you might share, and I discovered you have quite a lot in common. Your profiles indicate that you and Simone have the same parent. She’s your half sister.”
“But I’m an only child.” She went still as she recalled what Frankie had told her. “My father was some guy my mother met while she was on vacation in France. Is he still … ?”
Alex made a face. “Sorry, sweetheart. He died of leukemia ten years ago.” She touched Chris’s shoulder. “But hey, you’ve got a sister over there, and she’s made the change, too. If it’s okay, I’d like to let her know about you.”
“Let me talk to Jamys about it first. We don’t want any more new drama.” When Alex gave her a blank look, Chris added, “For saving Sam’s life, Lucan convinced your guy to give Jamys rule over the Caribbean islands. The tresoran council believes I was killed in the explosion on the Golden Horde, and so do the traitors. The few people who know different aren’t going to expose me. We’re safe here, and we’re happy. End of drama.”
“What about the emeralds Richard wants?” Alex asked. “You and Jamys have any ideas where they are?”
“We traced them to a jeweler in Fort Lauderdale, but they were stolen from him and have vanished again.” She shrugged. “Not like we need them anymore.”
“If Richard finds out you were changed, you’re going to have plenty of drama on your hands,” the doctor warned her. “So just keep a low profile for now, and we’ll let you know what happens with this idiot gem quest.” She went to the door and opened it suddenly, startling Jamys. “She’s all yours.”
“Yes.” Jamys smiled at Chris. “She is.”
After Dr. Keller had left, Jamys and Chris went for a walk on the beach, where some of the women were sitting and watching the waves.
“My lord, my lady.” Werren got to her feet and dusted off her hands. “Did all go as expected with the leech?”
“We call them doctors now,” Chris said, and nodded. “I’m doing fine. How about you and the ladies?”
“Very well, thank you.”
When Jamys had offered to bring the women from the Golden Horde down to the islands with them, Sam had been grateful, Lucan annoyed, and Chris uncertain. But since arriving, the women had worked tirelessly to help set up their household and keep things running smoothly, and were now talking about opening some gift and clothing shops to bring in some additional income for the jardin.
“A courier brought a package from Lord Alenfar while you were being examined,” Werren said. “I left it on the night table by your bed.”
Chris looped her arm through Jamys’s as they walked back up to the main house. “Do you think it’s the emeralds, and he wants us to hide them from Richard?”
He kissed the top of her head. “I am too busy hiding you from Richard.”
In the bedchamber Chris opened the small package, which contained a folded note and Father Bartley’s journal. “Someone’s been borrowing things from museums without permission.” She opened the note to read it out loud. “‘Burn this, bury it, but do not let it fall into the hands of another mortal fool. L.’” She tried to hand the note and the journal to Jamys, but the binding split suddenly and the pages from the journal dropped to the floor. “Terrific, I broke it.”
Jamys crouched down and picked up the pages, but when he tried to replace them in the binding, he stopped and lifted one of the inner flaps. “There is something under here.” He took out a yellowed, folded piece of parchment and opened it to reveal an old map of Florida.
“There are some roads or trails marked.” She peered at what had been written in the faded ink in one corner. “This looks like directions to somewhere in central Florida.” She pointed to three gem-shaped symbols drawn next to a circled area. “This could be the first mate’s map.” She looked up at Jamys. “What if the pirate who confessed to Bartley stole it before he jumped ship?”
“We can no longer pursue this quest without exposing you to the high lord.” Jamys took the map from her, folded it up, and placed it in a plain envelope. “We should send it to the Kyn lord who rules over the territory marked on the map, and let him decide what to do with it.”
“Her,” Chris corrected. “The suzeraina of Orlando is Jayr mac Byrne.” She took a pen and jotted the address of Jayr’s stronghold on the envelope before she put it and the journal aside. “Do you think the emeralds are somewhere in her territory?”
“I do not care where they are,” Jamys said as he drew her down to the bed. “I have the only treasure I want right here.”
Continue reading for a special preview
of the next Lords of the Darkyn novel,
Nightbound
Coming from Signet Select in May 2013
Beaumaris knew some humans were born with the natural ability to resist l’attrait, the scent produced by the Kyn that allowed them to influence and control mortals. A few were even immune to it, but those mortals were so rare that he had never before personally encountered one.
Until now.
He watched Alys as she retreated into the lobby, her limbs easy in her loose khaki garments, a thick bunch of her fiery hair bobbing from where she’d pulled it through the back of her cap. She intercepted a porter to speak with him before moving on to the elevators. Not once did she glance back at him.
To her I am nothing more than a human male in a bar.
Beau had not bothered with mortal females for so long that the annoyance he now felt with this one gave him pause. Like all Kyn, he had indulged himself with human women from time to time, enjoying their welcoming warmth and the fragile sweetness of their passions. None had ever touched his heart, however, and over the centuries the lovers he had taken had become an endless procession of willing lips and caressing hands, the blur of their features fading from his memory even as he slipped out of their beds.
Alys. Even her name intrigued him.
This cheeky wench had been neither willing nor welcoming; perhaps that was what rendered her so singular. Her taste in clothing was nothing short of appalling, but even her wretchedly fitted garments could not disguise her charms. Tall and slender as a yearling filly, Alys had been graced with skin like sunlit snow, the eyes of a fawn, and the mouth of an enchantress.
Save for that startled look she had given him when he’d first spoken to her, she’d also shown as much interest in him as she might a potted plant.
Testing the depth of her resistance would please him to no end, but Beau had to find Stuart. Once Alys had disappeared from view, he began making his way along the bar. None of the men answered to the name or knew the man he sought. Exasperated, Beau went to the reception desk and compelled the clerk to give him a key card to Stuart’s room on the seventh floor.
From outside the door to Stuart’s room he heard the sound of the shower and let himself in. He didn’t interrupt the mortal’s bath, but used the time to inspect the man’s cases. He carried no weapons but had filled one case with electronic gadgetry and a second with large old books. He opened one volume to read the title page, but the words were beyond his understanding.
He tossed the book back into the case, infuriated by his own anger. As a mortal he had been taught to fight, not read; as an immortal shame had compelled him to hide his ignorance from the other Kyn. When the Realm had nearly fallen to Byrne’s bastard half brother and his Saracen conspirators, Beau had realized that his own, long-kept secrets could be revealed someday. A week after Jayr had been named suzeraina, Beau had gone into the city to seek a solution.
He’d soon learned that anyone could enroll in a literacy class at one of the public libraries; the mortals who taught them were volunteers who required no payment in return. Even better, most classes were held after sunset to benefit those who were obligated to work during the day.
His first teacher, a retired librarian with seemingly endless patience, had prevented him from giving up several times that first month. “Reading is like learning another language,” Mrs. Decker would say. “You can’t expect to be fluent from the start. You must learn, and practice what you learn.”
As a Darkyn, Beau knew himself to be superior to mortals in almost every way; as a reader, he discovered he was painfully slow and made many mistakes. Mrs. Decker began asking him to stay behind after class was dismissed to work with her for another half hour.
“You’re fighting this too much, my dear,” she’d told him after he’d struggled through a line from his primer. “Words are not bombs, ready to explode if you fumble them. Think of them as more like gifts under the Christmas tree, waiting to be unwrapped.” Her finger went to the line he’d mangled. “Sally. You know that’s the name for the little girl in the story. Blue is the color of the sky on a summer day. Ball is her brother’s favorite toy.”
Beau nodded and sounded out the word in the middle of the line. “Kicks.” He thought for a moment. “What Sally wants to do to her brother’s … toy.”
Mrs. Decker had chuckled. “Exactly.”
Beau heard the shower shut off, and replaced the book in the case. Once he used l’attrait to bring the professor under his control, he would interrogate him and learn how much he knew about the renegades and how best to lure their leader into Beau’s hands.
The bathroom door opened and Alys walked out, her hands busy tucking a towel around her damp body. Beau was so astonished to see her that at first all he did was stare. She stopped as soon as she saw him, turned, and ran for the door.