“Why am I not surprised?” Micah muttered and then he left and slammed the door behind him.
Silence fell, and Katelina chewed her cheeseburger, waiting for Jorick to say something. His anger prickled her and she wanted desperately to brush it away, but didn't know how. Finally, he spoke. “Well, wasn't that interesting? I assume you've warmed up?”
“Sort of,” she answered slowly, unsure about the topic change.
“Good. I'll be back.” He pushed himself up from the dresser to start towards the door, “Lock it and-”
She interrupted him, “Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.”
He came to a stop before her and cupped her face in his hands. His eyes shone mischievously, and he couldn’t hide the smirk. “I guess it just proves you can train a human.”
“Very funny.”
He kissed her softly and then headed back to the door, deftly avoiding her as she tried to smack his arm. “I'll be back,” he called and left.
She finished her meal in silence and then changed her clothes. She decided that the suitcase was worth having to deal with Micah. That and the cigarette – the cigarette!
She dashed back to the night stand, but the cigarette had burned itself out in the ashtray. She sucked uselessly at the cold filter, and then flopped back on the bed in surrender. Here she was, alone in another motel room.
Katelina flipped the cable channels randomly, only stopping on the local news as a last resort. The news anchor was a cheerful looking male with graying hair and a too tight tie. He tugged at the offensive neckwear as he continued his story.
“-Baker’s Funeral home reported the theft of eleven caskets from its downtown showroom. A security camera recorded the image of a masked man before it was disabled-”
A fuzzy picture showed someone who was built very much like Micah wielding a crow bar. He swung the weapon towards the camera, and the picture disappeared.
“-Authorities are unsure at this time if the theft is intended as a prank, or if it is related to the theft of fifteen caskets from the Bryson County Funeral Home in Palmina earlier this month. The eleven caskets have been estimate to be worth over $30,000.”
Katelina whistled low. At that price no self respecting vampire could afford to buy their own casket! No wonder they were stealing them. If Oren and his cohorts had that kind of money then surely their war coven would have been somewhere with heat and running water?
The funny thing was, she’d never bothered to wonder where the caskets came from, even though there’d been a basement full. And just how did they steal fifteen caskets at one time and transport them back? That would take a lot of trucks, wouldn’t it?
It was an hour later when Jorick returned, and he was barely through the door before she was on her feet. “Hey! I have a question for you.”
He dropped onto the edge of the bed and kicked off his snowy boots. “If you must know, I followed Micah. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a trick.”
His immediate answer threw her off guard. “What? No. I want to know how they haul the coffins.”
Jorick stared at her incredulously. “How who hauls the coffins?” Understanding slowly filtered over his features. “Oren? For the love of- I don’t know. I imagine they use Des’s truck.” He shook his head and turned his attention to his socks.
“It’s a perfectly legitimate question. I mean, they did steal fifteen at a shot.”
“Did they?” he asked with no interest as he peeled off his dirty shirt and tossed it away. “I’d imagine they carry them out, stash them somewhere and then haul them a few at a time.” He stood and started for his jeans, then paused to look at her. “Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged, as if that was an answer. “I was just curious.”
He tugged off the jeans as well and left them on a heap in the floor. “Yes, well, you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.”
He started to turn for the bathroom and a shower, but Katelina called to him, “Who says? It’s always ‘you know what they say’. Well, who exactly are they?”
“Someone very wise.”
“Really, well ‘they’ also say that inquiring minds want to know.”
She felt his amusement and heard the smirk in his words, “Too much knowledge can be a bad thing.”
“But knowledge is power,” she quipped back.
Jorick’s smirk grew into a full blown grin, and he looked back over his shoulder and said, “Yes, but they say power corrupts, and I wouldn’t want to be responsible for corrupting you, so….” He trailed off into laughter and, before she could work up a good counter argument, disappeared into the bathroom
**********
Chapter Seventeen
Rain drops fell through the naked branches of the trees and slowly melted the snow to expose patches of scrubby grass. A rusty light pole leaned next to an old barn and gave out a strange pink light that made the scene surreal.
Katelina scrunched herself into the black coat and questioned what in the hell she was doing in the middle of nowhere. Oren had sent word when they’d woken that he’d meet them at this god forsaken location. Jorick hemmed and hawed about whether it was a trap but, in the end, there they were; sloshing through slushy snow in freezing rain. What was with him and meeting outside in the winter?
Something moved in the barn’s shadow, and then Oren slowly seemed to materialize as he stepped out into the light. His blonde hair hung damp around his face, his eyes were cold and his expression was unreadable.
Jorick steered Katelina towards him and commented impassively, “So, you came.”
“Yes, I came.” Oren’s eyes flicked to Katelina and then to Jorick. “I didn’t expect you to be here, though.”
Jorick sneered. “And where else would I be? Cowering like a rat with something to hide? One would think Micah’s word would be enough for you.”
Oren held up a pale hand, “Others make judgment, but I do not.”
“Really? It was your idea in the first place,” Katelina grumbled.
“No, it wasn’t,” Oren answered, speaking to Jorick and not her. “I merely said it would look suspicious to others, and I was right. You had barely taken three steps before they were clamoring about your guilt and I can not prove them right or wrong.”
At those words Jorick stopped walking. He clenched Katelina’s arm tightly and his annoyance throbbed through her mind. She gave Oren an angry glare that said she wanted to slap him, and a retort rose to her tongue, but Jorick spoke before she could.
“Then I wash my hands of it.”
Oren slumped and weariness washed over him. “What would you have me do?” he asked. “They’re already fighting amongst themselves, factions threatening to tear one another apart.” His eyes sent a silent appeal that his hardened voice didn’t echo. “I’m no leader, Jorick. I didn’t ask you to take command out of politeness!”
“One becomes a leader by being one. You give them too much leeway. Take control Oren.” He clenched a fist tightly in demonstration. “How long did you run a coven? Did you learn nothing?”
The blonde sighed heavily and his eyes momentarily filled with pain. “No,” he said softly. “Jesslynn ran it. You know that as well as I. She commanded, I obeyed.”
Jorick squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and then reopened them. His fist dropped uselessly to his side. “If you want to win against Kateesha, things will have to change, Oren. You need to decide who you can trust and who you can’t.”
“And who can I trust? You? Micah? Anya? Thomas? Which one? Who lies, who tells the truth? Can you tell me that?”
“Read their minds,” Jorick said simply. “It’s a gift you should have perfected by now.”
Oren’s laughter was hollow and cold, like the rain. “You know very well it’s one I didn’t fully inherit from my master. I can only see the thoughts of weaker minds clearly, or thoughts that a stronger will wishes me to see, and those are often masked.” His eyes bored into Jorick, though the older vampire didn’t fl
inch. “Things are simple for you, and you expect it to be so for everyone else.”
“Things are simple, only most people refuse to see the simplicity. I don’t understand this craving for complications so many of you possess.”
The cold wind sent a sheet of rain driving into them, but the vampires paid it no heed. Oren crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “Humanity has changed since you were brought into the world Jorick. Society evolved.”
The raven haired vampire chortled, while Katelina tried to huddle into him. “No, society is the same as it’s always been, it’s a misconception each generation likes to live behind; trying to convince themselves they’re so different from those who came before. It is a wearisome circle, trying to revitalize itself.”
“The world is weariness!” Oren interjected. “Did you not say so yourself?”
Jorick shifted uncomfortably and stole a glance at the woman beside him. “Once. But things change.” He met Oren’s eyes. “Do you think you’ll mourn Jesslynn for all eternity? Is that what you want? To spend the long centuries alone and miserable as an eternal penance?”
“Why not?” Oren demanded. “Wasn’t that your plan?”
Katelina scowled at Oren and Jorick answered softly, “Perhaps. But not all my choices are the right ones. Even I can admit a mistake.”
“Can you?” Oren asked with false curiosity, his eyes on Katelina. “I wonder.”
Katelina’s lips turned into a hard, unrelenting line. This was a waste of time; a play performed so they could later hide behind the excuse that they’d tried, and she was sick of it.
She glared at Jorick and thought as loudly as she could manage, “Either get on with it or forget it. This is stupid.”
He didn’t so much as look at her, but his next remark made it clear that he’d heard. “Either you believe Micah or you believe Thomas. The choice stands before you, and it’s one you must make on your own.”
The blonde was silent, so Jorick spoke again, “When you’ve decided, let me know.” He looked at Katelina and managed the barest hint of a smile. “Let’s go,” he said simply, drawing her away.
Oren watched, but didn’t say a word to stop them.
Back in the safety of the motel room, Katelina warmed herself before the heater. Freshly showered, she wore nothing but a fluffy towel. Jorick lay on the bed where he’d flung himself, silent and brooding. She could feel his frustration and concern, but decided they could discuss it when they were back where they belonged. The thought of the small house by the sea cheered her, and she asked brightly, “So, can we go home now?” Silence greeted her and she scowled as she guessed the real answer. “What’s the point? Oren thinks you’re in with Kateesha, and I say let him.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Jorick murmured without looking at her. “But the others do and he fears they’ll revolt, so he must be careful.”
“Careful?” Katelina snorted and rolled her eyes. “So? Let’s forget the whole thing. You’ve said yourself this isn’t your war-”
“But it is.”
“How?” she demanded as she turned to face him, her hands on her hips.
Jorick looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. “Have you forgotten already? You nearly died, Katelina. I can’t just let that go.”
She licked her lips uncertainly and looked away. What was she supposed to say to that? “Yes, well…”
“There’s nothing to say,” he cut in, answering her unspoken thought. Then he sighed heavily. “Oren was right. Kateesha isn’t going to leave us alone. I don’t care about her war, or her followers, or any of the rest of it, but it’s time I dealt with her once and for all.”
Katelina could see his logic, but she hated it. “What’s to stop her from actually finishing me off, this time? After the mess with Claudius you said I needed time to heal, but after nearly dying I don’t? What’s changed?”
“You have,” he stated flatly and then stiffened as his regret washed through Katelina’s mind.
Something sick settled in her stomach. “I’ve changed? How?”
“The Linking…” he trailed off and then gave a sigh of surrender. “You’ve been linked, Katelina. That makes you…. Different.” He met her angry gaze. “You won’t get sick as easily as you once did, and you should be stronger and faster, and have increased stamina.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know anything about the Linking?”
He shrugged. “I know that much. You can’t ingest vampire blood without some changes.”
“Blood?” she asked weakly. “Whose blood?”
“Whose do you think? Your fairy Godmother’s?” He rolled his eyes. “Mine of course. You have to ingest a little bit of it.”
“Your blood?” She’d dreamed that; or rather he had. A nightmare, or that’s what she’d thought it was. She’d assumed he’d been having a nightmare about turning her.
He interpreted her silent thoughts, “No, that was it.”
She closed her eyes and, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, asked, “How much blood?”
“Enough. Does it matter? It wasn’t the first time.”
He flinched as her eyes bulged and she demanded, “What? When?”
A sigh escaped his lips. “At Claudius’ after… After the attack. It wasn’t a lot, just enough to heal the worst of your injuries. You’d have bled to death otherwise, and you had a concussion.”
She clutched her towel as if it could shield her from the conversation. “Were you planning to tell me that?”
“No. I wasn’t. You survived and that was the important part.”
A sound at the door interrupted them. Jorick sat bolt upright but, before he could move, the lock clicked, the door flew open and in stalked three Executioners; Beldren and Zuri, who’d been at Jorick’s house a couple of weeks ago, and a female with dark bobbed hair. The sight of her made Katelina’s blood run cold. She remembered her vividly; the woman’s cruel face was etched in her dreams, lit by the glow of a roaring bonfire.
“Senya,” she whispered and clutched desperately at her towel, as if it would save her.
Jorick was on his feet and planted in front of them in an instant. His dark eyes snapped flame and he demanded furiously, “What do you want.”
Senya regarded Jorick haughtily. “We’re looking for Oren.”
Jorick gave an impatient snort. “He isn’t here, so get out.”
“You’re very demanding, all things considered.”
Jorick ignored her and looked to Beldren. “If you’re so desperate to find him, then why didn’t you apprehend him at the last battle? I hear you were there.”
Senya’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yes,” she snapped. “We were. However, we had other priorities.”
Jorick was just a little too smug. “Like staying alive? I didn’t realize you were so weak they’d pose a threat to you.”
Senya’s face tightened with cold fury, and she looked past him to where Katelina stood, eyes wide and white knuckled hands gripping her towel. “Maybe your human knows where he is?”
Katelina stumbled backwards until she found smooth wall behind her, a scream trapped in her throat. She remembered her last interrogation by Senya at Oren’s house; remembered the way the vampiress had delighted in the deaths of the children and servants.
Jorick sent Katelina a wave of comfort, then drew himself up and snarled at the Executioner. “She doesn’t know anything.”
Senya’s half smile was terrifying. “I’ll be the judge of that. Beldren, Zuri.” She snapped her fingers. “Hold him.”
Zuri moved to comply, but Jorick dodged away and kicked his leg out from under him. The Executioner stumbled, and landed on one knee. He lunged again, and Jorick grabbed one of the shabby chairs and swung it with enough force to shatter it against the vampire’s broad back and knock him to the floor.
Fear held Katelina against the wall, and left her unable to move or even scream. Senya stood, one hip cocked impatiently, her arms crossed over her chest and h
er attention focused on the fight while Beldren, the Executioner with the blonde ponytail, stood behind her, his face impassive to the point of near boredom.
Zuri threw aside the remnants of the chair and climbed to his feet. He dusted himself off and glared at Jorick as though he was going to eat him, then he sprung towards him. Jorick dodged again and grabbed another chair, only he hurled this one at Senya. The vampiress let out a cry of surprise, and threw her arm up just in time to fling it away.
The chair shattered when it hit the floor. Zuri growled low in his throat and tackled Jorick to the carpet. Though he roared and tried to throw the Executioner off, Zuri held him, his arms bulging and his teeth gritted with effort.
“You might as well stop thrashing, Jorick,” Senya commented as she prodded Jorick’s leg with her foot. “He’s physically stronger than you.”
Jorick’s anger burned through Katelina’s mind and, though she couldn’t see his face, she could imagine the expression. “If you touch her, Senya-”
The Executioner held up a hand to silence him, her attention already on Katelina. “I’m only going to talk to her, Jorick. You worry too much.”
Jorick snarled something unintelligible, and Senya made a show of stepping over him and Zuri as she crossed the room. Katelina took one look at her and, with a strangled squeal, dashed for the bathroom. She was barley through the doorway when Senya caught her by a handful of her hair and jerked her backwards. She cried out and grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling.
“God dammit Senya!” Jorick roared.
Beldren cleared his throat loudly. “Senya?”
“What?” the vampiress asked innocently and released her. Katelina stumbled forward, slipped on the damp bathroom floor and landed on her knees. Senya stepped blithely through the door and bent over her like a vulture. “Now let’s have a little chat, hmmmm?”
“Senya!” Jorick bellowed from the other room.
“We’re only talking,” she called back and then leaned close to Katelina’s ear. “For now,” she whispered.
Amaranthine Special Edition Vol I Page 49