Jaden studied the black and white face that mirrored her own. Rhona had been a beautiful woman, glamorous and feminine in a way her daughter wasn’t. Touching the face, all Jaden could feel was a sense of sadness at never having known the woman. She pressed her lips together and looked thoughtfully around the room. She had to get the file translated so she could read what was inside. Except whom could she trust?
Jaden thought instantly of Tyr. Surely, having lived so long, he would be able to speak almost every language. He might be able to even translate the letter she found. Her finger’s trembled. What if the file incriminated her uncle? Tyr seemed to have already judged Mack without a trial. Did she dare hand the evidence over to her enemy? No. She would have to bide her time. But then did she ask Mack about what she had found? What would he say? Should she even trust him?
Jaden felt her body quake with apprehension. Carefully, she laid the picture and locket into the box and placed it back into Mack’s safe. She could trust no one. Going to the bookshelf, she pulled a thick volume from the top ledge. The book looked old and carried with it a small cache that kept the pages together.
She felt only a moment’s regret as she picked up her knife and cut into the binding. Stripping out the pages, she swapped the inside of the book with the inside of the folder. Closing the leather binding over the folder’s contents, she latched up the book and set it aside. Then, taking the folder, she placed it back into the safe. She made sure everything was as she found it.
Hugging the newly rendered book to her chest, Jaden grabbed the yellowed letter before she strode to the door. She clutched her knife in her hand. Pulling the heavy oak open, she froze. Her eyes instantly met with Rick’s. He was on the stairs, his hands laden with a brown paper bag. Cocking his head to the side, he eyed her burden.
Slowly, he continued forward. "I got the sandwiches."
"Oh," Jaden gasped. She hugged the book closer. She forced a smile to her lips, as she grumbled, "Good. I’m starving. Why don’t you put them downstairs? I’ll shower and be right down."
"Need any help?"
"Excuse me?" she gasped in affront. She spun on her heels to force a glare on him.
Rick laughed, holding up his free hand. "I meant with the book. What are you doing? Research?"
"Ah," Jaden felt her chest tighten with relief. Quietly, she mumbled, "The book."
"Are you all right?" he asked carefully. His head tilted in concern. "You look a little pale."
"I’m just tired from our workout," she lied. Rick saw right through it. Jaden had the stamina of an immortal.
"How about we do something else tonight? A movie maybe?" he offered with a boyish grin.
"No," she mumbled, backing away. "I’m beat. I think I’ll just sleep tonight." Jaden forced a yawn. Again Rick saw through her. She hadn’t slept a full night since she was a child. Mack made mention of it more than once.
"Fine," he answered, shading his eyes from her. "You’ll still join me for dinner though, right? You did send me halfway across the state for these things."
Rick impishly waved the sandwich bag at her.
"Of course," she said. Rushing towards her room, she yelled over her shoulder, "I’ll be right down. And you won’t be sorry. Those are the best sandwiches in New York."
"Can I get you anything to drink?" he called after her.
"Ah, no!" she yelled in distraction. "I have a water bottle in my room."
Rick let her leave him, watching until her door closed firmly behind her. He knew there was something she was hiding from him. He wished with all his heart that she would confide in him. But past experience told him that she would try and face it alone--and with a book on witchcraft, no less! With a shake of his head and a frown on his face, Rick made his way to the dining room. Jaden was in over her head and it was up to him to save her.
* * * *
Jaden studied her half-eaten sandwich as she rubbed the back of her neck. Smiling politely, she pretended to listen to Rick. She couldn’t concentrate. Her mind kept wandering back to the impression of ice blue eyes. A few short days hadn’t lessened her longing for the disapproving vampire. In fact, despite the direness of Tyr’s impending visit, Jaden found she was almost looking forward to seeing him. Such a development did not sit lightly with her conscience. Since he first started aggravating her, she had stopped dwelling as intently on wanting to die. His arrogance lit within her a fighting spirit until she almost felt alive again.
Smirking to herself, she thought of his overbearing presence. Sure, she was alive with hatred, but it was better than feeling nothing.
The dining room consisted of a long table surrounded by hand carved chairs and a matching elegant sideboard. The easeful decorations made the imposing room feel more intimate than should have been possible, with low lighting and soft, warm colors painted onto the paneled woodwork.
Jaden reached for her sandwich, taking it to her mouth. Her limbs felt a strange lethargy as she tried to bite. Setting it down untouched, she looked at her plate. Her teeth felt oddly numb, her gums lost the ability to feel the poke of her tongue. Rolling her neck on her shoulders, she blinked heavily. Rick’s face danced before her eyes.
"Jaden?" Rick questioned, stopping in mid-sentence. He watched as she ambled to her feet. She swayed slightly, her eyes turning dull as she looked at him.
Jaden stumbled to the dining room door, ignoring the sparkling light as it rained down from the chandelier. The wiggling spots waltzed across Rick’s tilting face. She saw his hands reaching for her. She shooed them back with a quick snap. Her aim missed, falling far to the right. Growling in dismay, she demanded, "What did you do?"
Rick tried not to take exception to her accusing tone. Reaching for her again, he was surprised when she darted past. He heard her footsteps bounding up the stairs, tripping over the hard steps as she moved. Jogging, he followed cautiously behind her.
"Jade," he began as amiable as he could muster. "Wait a minute."
She circled around to face him as she reached the top. Holding onto the rail, she backed away. Raising her voice, she yelled, "What did you do, Rick?"
"Jade, please," he begged. His guilt played all over his features. He became aware of the gathering servants behind him. They stared at Jaden and at him, though none moved to help her as she stumbled. Rick shooed them away with a deft wave of his hand. They immediately obeyed. Lifting his hands towards Jaden as he approached, he said, "It is just to help you sleep."
"You drugged me?" she cracked sharply. Reaching her bedroom door, her quaking fingers reached for the knob.
"You gave me no choice," he defended. A frown pulled at the lines between his narrowing eyes.
"You deceitful," she began. Her speech became slurred. Her ears echoed strange and hollow. Jaden stumbled into her bedroom. A glaze clouded her eyes.
"Me?" Rick scowled. "You’ve been lying to me for the last three days, Jade! I know you are up to something. I can read it plainly in your face." His words became desperate, as he begged, "Tell me what is bothering you. Trust me. Let me help. I can take care of you. Please, Jade."
"I don’t need taken care of," she hissed. "I don’t need anything from you."
Rick barged into her room, staying close enough to catch her if she fell and far enough that she couldn’t hit him until she did.
"How?" she whispered. "When?"
"Your sandwich," he admitted through his shame. His eyes didn’t leave her. "Your uncle left me some po--"
"I don’t believe you! Mack would never!" she screeched with a crazed shake of her head. But then a memory from childhood surfaced, a dim memory she never visited. It was the same feeling now swimming in her limbs, slowing her blood. Then her arms had been small and Mack’s voice had been soothing, begging her to sleep, to rest without nightmares.
Jaden’s neck swung back on her shoulders. She fell roughly into the side of the bed. Using all her strength, she pushed herself to standing. Her fingers twined around the post for support. Her though
ts danced haphazardly in her head--a laugh from childhood, the voice of an unimportant tutor lecturing algebra to a ten year old girl who wanted nothing of it, the clang of swords, a line from a Broadway play shouted by painted actors. Rick’s face danced and she tried to focus on it, blocking out the sounds. Hoarsely, she denied, "I am up to nothing."
"Well, I don’t believe you," Rick countered easily. "I can see the packed bag you’ve hidden under your bed. Where are you going?"
"You don’t know what you have done," she mumbled. A trail of spit slid over her wan complexion, down the side of her jaw and throat. Jaden could no longer stand. She sunk to her knees, powerless against the tide of the drug as it drowned her in its languid pool. Her mind reeled. "He’s coming here … for me … tonight. You don’t know what you have done."
Rick barely heard her words, but what he understood was enough. Going to her, he gathered her in his arms. His hands were tender as they stroked over her. "Who, Jade? Who’s coming?"
"The devil," she muttered feebly, trying in vain to hold onto sanity. Her eyes rolled in her head. A blue gaze stared into her mind, filling with blood, dripping wet crimson tears. Spit continued to trail over the side of her cheek. Her mouth fell slack, as she said, "He’s come to collect. He’s come to judge."
"I’ll take care of you, Jade. I’ll always take care of you," Rick whispered. Jaden didn’t hear him. Her mind collapsed into blackness.
Rick hugged Jaden’s pliant body to his chest. He felt her strength weaken until she was a moldable mass within his arms. Her mouth opened in even breath. He reached for her pulse. It was steady and sure. Adjusting her in his arms, he lifted her from the floor. Her limbs flopped as he cradled her carefully before him.
Kicking her black bag from beneath the bed with his foot, he leaned over and picked it up. He angled the heavy duffel bag over his shoulder, keeping Jaden held fast in his arms. It was too late to take her to a safe house, but first thing in the morning he was going to get her out of New York. Tonight they would just have to make due with his apartment.
"I won’t let him take you," Rick whispered when she fussed in his arms. Even in sleep she was fighting the effects of the drug. Or was she fighting him? He studied her restless features. The bruise was almost faded. Her clear skin was soft and free of makeup. She was so pale, the sensitive skin a gift from her father. Along her eyes he could see the purpling shadows of little sleep. She looked peaceful and so vulnerable. Knowing that he may never again get the nerve, he murmured, "I love you."
Jaden moaned as he bounced her body in his embrace. Her lips parted with a sigh. Rick leaned over, his heart in his throat, to hear her soft whimper.
"The devil is going to take me for my sins," she wheezed, half asleep. Her eyes opened once, the lashes too weak to remain so as they fell over her pin-pointed eyes. "And I am going to let him."
* * * *
London, England
"Why are we meeting in London?" Mack asked, breaking into a long silence. He hunched forward, leaning partly over the small round table of the café. His elbows pressed into the wood, feeling the imprint of the rough-hewn top. The opulent cut of his suit was sorely out of place in the literary atmosphere of the dark café. Someone spouted poetry into a microphone, annoying him with the college-boy whining. The kid really knew nothing of suffering.
Mack stared into the cold eyes that bore from the depth of an ageless face. Skin that was once dark glowed with a ghostly undertone. At Mack’s words unlit eyes rose unwaveringly to search the mortal man’s face. Mack turned his gaze away, pretending to look for a waitress in the dank room.
Stagnant air curled with smoke from burning cigarettes. When the old vampire didn’t answer, Mack dared a glance at him. The face hadn’t moved. Mack made out the flatness of the creature’s nose and the thinness of his lips more from memory than the light afforded him in the dark corner.
"Has something happened, Pietro?" Mack whispered, growing alarmed. He did his best to sound calm, but his words were a bit rushed.
No," Pietro answered evenly. His words were thick in his Albanian accent, though his English was flawless. He didn’t move, taking no enjoyment from their surroundings. He looked out from the straight length of his dark brown hair, the eternally graying temples hugged to his cheeks, snuffing his ears from view. "I am monitoring a situation here."
"What situation?" Mack demanded. Even though his tone was forceful, he still didn’t meet the vampire’s eyes. He knew better than to study the old gaze too long.
"It is nothing to be concerned over," the ancient voice allowed. "Just a vampire and his club."
"Fine." Mack waved his hand in distraction. Balling his fist, he pressed it hard into his lips, sighing heavily from his nose. The nostrils flared like an angry bull.
"What urgency forces you to seek me out?" Pietro asked at length. He lifted his hand absently as a woman tried to near the table. She turned around, taking her tray with her. The microphone crackled in the background as a new speaker cleared his throat.
"Is the list you gave me accurate?" Mack queried. Finally getting the nerve to look Pietro in the eyes, he studied the humorless expression.
"Yes," Pietro drew out with a rustling to his word. A woman with pink hair passed their table, her bangs pulled high off her head. She didn’t pay any mind to the vampire and his mortal companion as she led her lover away. Pietro waited for her to pass, glancing briefly at her back, sensing she was undead. Then, smiling enigmatically, he added, "As complete as you need it to be."
"Then you have left some names off," Mack concluded. "I thought as much. Why? Who are you protecting?"
Pietro’s lips tilted. He didn’t answer.
"You promised that Jade and I would be protected," Mack exerted. His breath left his throat in a hiss. His eyes glared in helplessness as he waited for Pietro to answer.
"And so you have been," Pietro responded. "Here you sit before me--protected."
"Jaden has been marked," Mack insisted.
"Then she was careless," the ancient vampire shrugged. "You should have trained her better. I told you all she would need to know. Methinks it is you who cannot control her."
"She is trained," Mack defended. "And she is loyal to me. She listens to me. You wanted proof of it so I gave you proof. Bhaltair is dead, is he not? Dead by her hand."
"Mmm," Pietro hummed wisely. His eyes closed. Before opening them, he said, "You tricked her."
Mack ignored the accusation. Frustrated, he said, "She was attacked by an aged vampire. One she was not prepared to fight."
"If she was not prepared, she shouldn’t have sought him out," the creature said evenly. He held no sympathy for the mortal dhampir.
"She did not seek him out," Mack retorted in mounting frustration. He pounded his fist on the table in anger. Pietro raised a brow in warning. Mack knew well that Pietro didn’t like tempers. Mack raised his hands in apology. Softening his tone, he managed through his frustration, "She was sought out. I believe the one that has sought her is named Tyr. The only reference I can find for such a creature is in a book of myths. It is said he is a legendary Dark Knight."
"He is," Pietro said evenly.
"Then it is true," Mack whispered, shaking his head. "There is no hope for Jaden. She can’t possibly defeat one so strong."
Pietro shrugged, unconcerned.
"You sent him after her," Mack accused fervently. "Why? We had a deal. I have kept my end of the bargain. I have killed who you’ve asked me to kill. And I have done what you have asked me to do. Our plans are so close to becoming a reality."
"Not I," he responded, "but the council. They caught wind of her activities. They sent him to investigate her."
"So you knew?" Mack asked. "You knew they would send Tyr after her if she killed Bhaltair."
"I knew only that he was watching her," Pietro answered. "But I didn’t know he would mark her--such a curious thing that, but hardly worth noting."
"I won’t lose Jaden like I lost her mother,
" Mack swore. "You promised me protection. Call Tyr off. Get rid of him."
"Mayhap, you won’t have to lose anyone," Pietro murmured. His eyes lit with a devious charm.
"What do you mean?" Mack asked, inspired by the familiar look in his companion’s features.
"Use the Dark Knight to your advantage," Pietro answered. "His blood is strong and pure. It is second to only that of the tribal leaders. It will help you in your cause."
"And how do I capture him?" Mack gulped. His brain formed around the idea greedily. His heart pounded with excitement.
"You have an expendable army," Pietro shrugged. "And you have your niece. If he has marked her, he will come for her."
"You mean use her as bait?" Mack murmured, part in disgust and part in uneasy consideration.
Pietro nodded once.
"Maybe he only tracks her," Mack mumbled, doubtful. "What if he doesn’t come for her at all?"
"Vampires are drawn to those they mark. And I have seen the beauty your niece was in her youth. If the rumors of it are now true, he will go to her again. The Draugers," Pietro stopped with a look of disgust as he mentioned the tribe, "are vain in that way. Beauty and youth sway them. You should use her as bait. Then, when he comes, trap him."
"But he may kill her," Mack protested, torn between his ambition and his love for his only family.
"Yes," Pietro said without sympathy or pity, "he may kill her either way."
Mack turned his gaze away, knowing he would do as Pietro said. He always did as Pietro said. He didn’t have a choice. It tore at his gut to use Jaden, but he had done it her whole life. Soon though, his work would pay off. Then Jaden would understand the sacrifices they both had to make. She would be happy then. He would make her happy.
The Jaded Hunter Page 10