by Jen Colly
Cat glared at him. She’d never taken confrontation well, but demons were a particularly sore spot for her. Their kind had done as much damage to her as they had to his siblings, if not more. “It doesn’t matter what the demon wanted.”
Bette patted his arm to get his attention. “He was asking for help finding a city… Jericho? Rollin, he can’t find his family. That’s all he wants. His family.”
Rollin turned to the demon and did what, to his knowledge, no other vampire had done before. Point blank, he asked the demon, “Why are you here?”
“He promised,” the demon rasped through the pain, black blood seeping from its shoulder and its ribs where Cat had drove the blade home. “My family fled to Jericho. I can’t find it. My king swore to bring us Jericho.”
Behind him, Cat laughed, a harsh and mirthless sound.
“He didn’t come here to find your lost city, your family. He used your people to try and take Balinese for himself. He failed,” Cat said, cool and even. “Your king is dead.”
“It can’t be true. He knew where the city was, promised I would hold my child again,” the demon said, tears starting to shimmer around those red eyes. “Do you know of Jericho? Tell me!”
“No one knows where Jericho lies, or if it’s even real. He lied to you, demon,” Cat said, almost gleefully.
A demon searching for its family? Rollin couldn’t believe he didn’t rock back from the shock of it all. He looked to Navarre, waiting for him to pass judgment.
“Don’t look at me.” Navarre slowly shook his head. “It’s your call, son.”
His call? Holy… Rollin felt the weight of Navarre’s words. Having complete control over this situation would probably be surreal and overwhelming under normal circumstances, except Rollin knew exactly what he wanted done.
“Titus. Tarmon.” Both Guardians snapped to attention. “Take the demon above. Make sure he’s sent safely on his way, and off our property.”
“You can’t be serious!” Cat bellowed.
“It entered your home and asked you a question. Period. If this is my call, then I need a better reason than that to kill a man.” Rollin stood firm. This choice wasn’t about doing what someone else wanted, it was his chance to do what was right.
Titus pointed to the bleeding man. “You know it’s a demon, right?”
“I’m aware,” Rollin acknowledged, then turned to Cat, his tone harder than he’d intended. “Cat, look at me. I saw what you did for me, for Maeryn, for all of us, when we weren’t even yours. So you tell me, if the demon had touched one of us, what would you have done?”
“You know damn well what I would have done,” she said, seething with rage.
“Yes, I do.” The solid heat of Bette’s hand at his back gave his mind a calming focus, and he drew on her faith in him. “The difference is, you’re here with your family. A man can’t protect a family he can’t find, and he came here, knowing he would likely die in Balinese because you were the one hope he had of finding that demon city. You would do anything to save your family. I’m giving him a chance to save his.”
“Thank you,” the demon said, his voice strained. Barro had done a number on his shoulder, and between the loss of blood and the muscle damage, the demon was hurting.
“I sincerely hope you find your family,” Rollin said to the demon, then to the Guardians, he ordered, “Take him above and release him.”
Titus and Tarmon looked to Navarre, who was holding back Cat as he gave them a confirming nod.
“I have no idea what the hell is going on around here, but I like it,” Tarmon said with a half smile, shifting his gaze from Navarre to Rollin as they ushered the demon from the room. “Didn’t seem right to kill a man for asking a question.”
Chapter 20
Balinese
The door shut, the Guardians finally escorting the demon from the room. Bette didn’t understand half of what had happened, but she couldn’t deny she was relieved it was over. Leaning against Rollin, she let the tension fall away, but as she relaxed against her Guardian, she realized he remained highly agitated. This wasn’t over for him.
He glared at Cat, and Bette got the distinct impression that if not for his arm protectively wrapped around her shoulders, he’d have them crossed over his chest to accentuate his anger.
She’d missed something. Rollin had handled the situation beautifully. His practically non-existent temper had only flared when speaking to the lady, who was still fuming as she stared down Rollin. Oh, dear. Bette suddenly realized the pot was about to boil over.
“I have a limit, Cat,” Rollin said, his tone absolute, as if he actually had command over the lady of the city. “This was it.”
“Rollin,” Bette said, her voice low and hushed as she patted his chest in an attempt to draw his attention. “Mind your words. She’s the lady.”
He took hold of her hand, clasping it close to his chest and continued confronting his lady, though a touch more reserved. “You will no longer go unguarded.”
“You want to tack a Guardian onto my heels? I don’t think so,” Cat said, a single brow lifting, daring him to try.
“Please, Rollin,” Bette said softly to him, her dread building. She’d seen men jailed or killed for such confrontations in Valenna. “I can’t lose you. Don’t do this.”
Rollin squeezed Bette’s hand, and just when she thought he might listen to her, she realized he wasn’t comforting her, but drawing on her for support as he continued to push the lady.
“I’m the last person to doubt your abilities. There’s no one in the world I’d rather have at my side in a fight than you. But I need you to stop, for just one second, and think about what this is doing to me,” Rollin said, forcing himself to pause for a calming breath.
A flicker of shock crossed the lady’s face, and though she seemed somewhat sympathetic toward Rollin, Cat stood firm. “This is different.”
“Does that small difference matter? She carried a child. Like you. She died trying to save me, and you would do no less for me, for Maeryn. All of us. I couldn’t save my mother. She was right there in front of me, and I couldn’t… She was gone. But I can save you. I’ve lost one mother. I will not lose two.”
Mother? Bette’s jaw went slack as her mind tried to process this revelation. Had the lady cared for Rollin in the absence of his birth mother?
Cat gave him a short nod. “I suppose I can deal with a Guardian for one week.”
Rollin’s body trembled beneath her hand, a quick ripple of muscle beneath skin, a physical manifestation of his emotional state, and then it was gone and he wasn’t holding back.
“This goes beyond today. These demons are not done with you. What will you do when this child is no longer in your belly, but in your arms?” His voice broke. Rollin was crushing Bette to him as he fought through his pain. Whatever he’d been through, the wound ran deep. He took a breath, his voice more controlled as he asked, “Will you lay the babe on the ground to have your fight?”
Clearly he needed to have this out no matter the consequences, and Bette did the only thing she could in the moment. She stood strong at his side, supporting him.
“Cat,” Navarre said gently. “He’s right. You’re a warrior, calculated and practical. You can see the reason for his concern, and for mine.”
“We’ve already discussed this,” Cat said, her calm surety returning.
Navarre placed his hand on her large belly. “It will be different when the child is old enough to walk and speak, to understand when to hide and when to run. But as an infant? You cannot fight with her in your arms.”
After several silent moments, Cat looked up at Navarre and asked softly, “Her?”
“I’m hoping,” Navarre said, the smile on his face filled with anticipation. “I’d like to name her Josette, after your mother.”
Cat’s chin quivered. Whatever tiny
sliver of Cat’s heart Navarre had yet to win had just been claimed.
“Fine.” Cat gave in, waving her hand dismissively. “I’ll choose a Guardian.”
Instead of ushering Bette out the door, Rollin turned back. She assumed he was looking at Cat, waiting for the woman he considered his second mother to say something. It was Navarre who sent Rollin a proud nod, praising him for a job well done. At her side, Rollin stood taller.
Something happened between the two men, a shared understanding of sorts. Bette didn’t catch the meaning, but it seemed to mean the world to Rollin. Without a single word, Rollin swept her out the door. At the end of the corridor, he stopped and turned to face her.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Rollin asked.
He wasn’t angry, but there was a determination about him that wouldn’t be denied. “I don’t understand.”
“You weren’t afraid of the demon. Have you ever seen a demon before this night?”
She hadn’t, and until the man’s eyes flared red when Cat stabbed him, she’d had no reason to suspect he was anything other than vampire. “Rollin, I…”
“Did you think we wouldn’t check the woods? There was no trace of a demon.” He looked away, and still she didn’t know what to say. He knew the truth, and nothing she could say would help either of them. Rollin spoke again, but this time the calm in his voice was not as comforting. “I didn’t push the point before, because… The mind plays tricks when you’re already frightened, and you were out there alone. Why lie to me?”
“I didn’t think Balinese would take me in,” she said, unnerved by how intensely he was studying her.
“Why? Because Valenna is a closed city?”
She nodded. “If Balinese refused to accept me, Valenna wouldn’t allow me back inside.”
“And the sun was rising,” he said evenly.
A tear slid down Bette’s cheek. She was lying to him again. Not entirely, but enough that it hurt her. “I thought that if there was a threat to your city, an immediate need for protection, I might be allowed entry.”
“I assume you’ve never taken Spirit.”
She shook her head.
“Then how did you come to be badly in need of blood? You were depleted.” He gave a short laugh, void of humor. “At least that part wasn’t a lie.”
“Please, you have to understand,” she said, reaching out to touch his forearm. He stiffened under her touch, but didn’t pull away. “I had no access to blood.”
That seemed to give him pause, but it didn’t necessarily mean he believed her. Rollin crossed his arms over his chest, and her hand fell away from him. Now he was distant, in more ways than one. “We’ve already established you were an aristocrat. They may have shut down the city, but I doubt anyone barricaded your door shut.”
“They didn’t,” she whispered.
“Bette, you’re not making a lick of sense,” he said. “You’re more scared of leaving my home than you are of demons. Just tell me. What happened to you?”
This was only the second time Bette had heard him raise his voice, and she didn’t care for the pained edge in his tone. She’d caused him to hurt. Bette wanted nothing more than to comfort him, to tell him she was sorry, but sorry couldn’t fix the way he was looking at her now with distrust and suspicion.
The desire to confide in him, to finally let go of the past, was strong, but she couldn’t tell him the whole truth here in the middle of the corridor. Not like this.
“My parents were executed by the Lady of Valenna. I thought your lady, Cat, might have you hurt or killed.”
“You thought I was crossing a line with Cat?” His eyes widened and he gripped both her shoulders. “Is that why you’re here? Did you cross a line? Are you running from your execution?”
“No, I…” Bette trailed off as she saw Tarmon sauntering down the corridor toward them. She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Rollin bellowed. “I need some answers here, Bette!”
“Man,” Tarmon drew out the single word as he approached, stepping right up to them. “We get calls for this kind of domestic sh—”
“Tarmon,” Rollin snapped. “Walk away.”
“No, Tarmon, please wait,” Bette said as he’d taken his first step. Then, with hands clasped before her, Bette said to Rollin, “I want to explain everything, I really do, but not in the middle of the corridor while you’re on shift. Will you walk me to the elevator? I can find my way…back from there.”
The slight trip in her sentence was a direct result of dodging the word home. She might no longer be welcome in Rollin’s home. She may have just lost him.
Chapter 21
Balinese
As the elevator doors slid shut with Bette inside alone, Rollin avoided eye contact. He couldn’t think straight with her at his side. Hell, he couldn’t think straight now that she was gone.
Rollin brought his radio to his lips. “Briona?”
The radio gave a slight crackle before she answered, “Aye, what now?”
“Put a Guardian on my door,” he said. God, he could hear the anger in his voice, feel it in the twitch of his jaw. “Make sure the female in my home stays there.”
“Are ye serious?”
“Do I not sound serious?”
“Point taken,” she said. “I’m on it.”
Satisfied that his order would be carried out, Rollin returned the radio to his belt and continued patrolling. He hadn’t made it two steps before Tarmon laughed lazily, then said in a rather smug tone, “Domestic.”
Rollin punched him in the arm, effectively sending the Guardian flying into the wall. Tarmon grunted, but rebounded quickly, seeming more concerned about his wrinkled shirt than the affront to his manliness. Straightening his shirt collar and smoothing the wrinkles, he looked up at Rollin. “Harsh, man.”
“Is that your word of the night now?”
“You won’t let me have domestic, so yeah.” Tarmon approached, just as cocky and sure as before. He ruffled his hands through his hair, stopping at Rollin’s side, and said, “I’m feeling the word harsh right now.”
Luckily Tarmon kept his mouth shut for the remainder of their shift. Rollin was hardly in the mood to maintain what little patience he had left. They entered the empty meeting room reserved for Guardians, and punched out. This system had nothing to do with tracking hours, but instead told Briona who was on and off shift, giving her a clearer picture of what was going on. The glowing button switchboard on average had eighteen to twenty buttons lit, each one numbered and correlating to a Guardian and his radio. The female kept tabs on everyone.
Tarmon took a moment to survey the board, probably checking to see if a friend was off duty yet. Tapping his finger twice on the metal edge of the board, Tarmon turned to leave, likely intending to pick up his life where he’d left off. Rollin stood frozen in the center of that empty room, staring at the door.
Bette had sought shelter in Balinese, a city of second chances, and with him. A Guardian. The heir to Balinese. All his previous concerns for who she was and why she was here resurfaced with a vengeance. Whatever crimes she might have committed were not the problem. It was the lies.
“Afraid of those answers you wanted so badly?” Tarmon asked.
“Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t want to let her go.”
“You might not like what she has to say, but if you know her crap, and she knows yours, and you don’t hate each other’s guts, who says you have to?”
It took a moment for Tarmon’s surprisingly wise words to sink in, but true to his nature, Tarmon didn’t give him a moment. Steering him toward the door, Tarmon said, “You’re coming with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Rollin scowled, but Tarmon remained unconvinced, probably because he was still moving with him.
&nb
sp; “Well, you haven’t punched me. Harsh, I say again,” Tarmon said, leading Rollin up the corridor. “So I say you’re a liar. And I can say that to your face, because that ugly mug of yours is still right here with me.”
“Where are we going?” Rollin glanced back at the switchboard where Tarmon had lingered. “Did you sign me up for a second shift?”
“What? God, no,” Tarmon said, then after a few seconds, smacked him twice on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. You do that kind of thing, don’t you?”
Rollin let out a heavy breath. “I have.”
Moving through the empty outer corridors, Rollin didn’t think much about their destination until Tarmon opened the door leading to the chateau’s cellar. Slipping through, Tarmon took the stone stairs along the wall two at a time.
“Why are we going above?” Rollin asked, and Tarmon stopped on the stairs, turning to face him.
“You need to clear your head,” he said, splaying his fingers over his chest. “I can help.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Yeah, you do,” Tarmon said, and without checking to see if Rollin followed, he headed up the stairs.
Tarmon was right. Rollin couldn’t deny his curiosity over how he intended to clear his mind, but the truth of the matter was, he wasn’t ready to have a conversation with Bette.
Climbing the stairs to the chateau above, Tarmon only half a step ahead, they made their way through the main floor and behind the grand staircase. Rollin was no stranger to the chateau, but Tarmon was leading him away from the gate. Tarmon opened a narrow door, and moonlight spilled into the darkened chateau, fresh air sweeping inside.
Rollin could hear the shouts and cheers of men before he rounded the corner and stepped into the narrow courtyard. More than thirty men gathered, a mix of Guardians, former Guardians, young men who desperately wanted to be Guardians, and those who had been denied, all out to prove something.
At the head of the loose circle, Cutler stood with a clipboard in his hand, seeming to direct the event. Men exchanged money in the midst of their boasting, and those who weren’t directly involved in the fighting were drinking and reveling in the competition. This was where Jovan preferred to spend his time.