Sophia

by D. B. Reynolds

  “You, too,” she said.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Raphael came out of the elevator, locking it behind him. It wouldn’t lock Cyn in, but it would keep anyone else out. Elke was waiting for him, standing in the open doors between the elevator hallway and the great room where she could see anyone coming or going from either area.

  “My lord.”

  “She doesn’t go anywhere alone,” he ordered. “Nowhere, Elke.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Raphael met her eyes with a flat stare, emphasizing the seriousness of his order. He knew all too well Cyn’s ability to talk people into things they wouldn’t do otherwise, and she and Elke were friends of a sort. But he was Elke’s Sire and his will would trump or heads would roll.

  He put all of this into a single glance that had Elke stiffening to attention. “I will protect her, my lord. On my life.”

  Raphael nodded and turned his attention to Duncan, who’d crossed to his side. “Sophia is waiting outside, Sire. And our people are working on ferreting out Colin Murphy’s record. Maxime insisted on doing it herself. She seemed to feel cracking the Defense Department’s records would be an enjoyable exercise of her skill.”

  “I’d rather she focus on the possible breach of security.”

  “I said as much to her, but she indicated the diagnostics will run without her intervention for several hours, while the records search on Murphy would take, in her words, a fun few minutes.”

  “Tell her to keep in touch, Duncan. This little trip to Vancouver will probably take up most of the night.”

  “I’ve already instructed her to call as soon as she has anything.”

  Their conversation had taken them across the great room to where Juro waited near the entrance. At a nod from Raphael, the big vampire opened one of the heavy glass doors to admit a blast of wet, cold air.

  “Lovely weather,” Raphael commented.

  “Yes,” Duncan agreed. “Perhaps we should consider relocating from the Malibu estate.”

  Raphael grunted and climbed through the open door of the waiting SUV, sliding across the bench seat to make room for Duncan. “I shall give the idea all due consideration,” Raphael replied.

  The journey to the border was surprisingly quick. The three SUVs slowed as they neared the boundary between the U.S. and Canada, and Raphael waited to feel the press of Lucien’s power against his own. It struck him that he should have sensed the first trickles of the other vampire lord’s power long ago, leaking across their territorial lines. He knew with certainty that Lucien could detect his power from well inside the Canadian side of the border, even within his own lair. Try as they might to respect each other’s sovereignty, power was not something that could be cut with a knife. There was always leakage.

  But tonight, there was nothing of Lucien to be felt, not even within the border checkpoint, where they waited while the Canadian agents verified their identification. Sophia’s Brazilian passport caused a small delay, but only because it was unexpected. Raphael and his people were all perfectly legal citizens of the U.S. and carried valid passports to prove it. Vampires might not consider themselves subject to human law, but neither did they flaunt it unnecessarily.

  As they waited, Raphael sent out feelers, searching for Lucien, but he still felt nothing at all. He frowned, concentrating harder as they crossed the territorial line and headed toward the lights of nearby Vancouver.

  “We’ll go to Lucien’s headquarters, Juro,” he said, suddenly. “Have Sophia call ahead to prepare his staff. I don’t want any pointless shows of defiance.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Juro said and gave directions over the radio to the SUV in front of them.

  Raphael paid little attention to the city as they sped through. The clouds had closed in again, cloaking everything in darkness, but the general impression was one of a typical big city, with its brightly lit business and residential towers marching right up to the water’s edge. Streets and highways were full of cars and trucks, and even at this hour, they had to slow several times for traffic. There were occasional flashes of the bay, but that too was crowded, with fishing boats and warehouses.

  Raphael was certain the humans who lived here were fond of their city, and he knew it had a deserved reputation for sophistication and charm. He also knew that Los Angeles was a far more crowded city. But then, he rarely had to deal with L.A.’s suburban sprawl or its packed freeways. When he thought of L.A., it was only of his estate in Malibu with the endless, empty sea stretching beyond the cliffs below his home.

  As they neared the city center, Raphael finally felt the first stirring of power, so faint he would never have credited it as coming from the Canadian lord if he didn’t know better. Sitting quietly in the backseat, he tried to reach out, to grab hold of the weak tendril and follow it to its origin, but it was gone, lost in a wash of general vampiric power. Most of Lucien’s Canadian vampires lived here in Vancouver, and most were concentrated in the downtown area. There was a large contingent in Toronto and a smaller one in Montreal, with the rest scattered throughout the vast Canadian territory. But none of those equaled the Vancouver nest in size, simply because this was the city where Lucien spent most of his time.

  Even so, it shouldn’t have been possible for a vampire lord’s signature to be lost among those of his subjects. Something was seriously wrong with Lucien, and Raphael was beginning to suspect he knew what it was. But first, he would have to deal with Lucien’s people, who would not welcome his intrusion into their master’s domain.

  * * * *

  Raphael studied Lucien’s Vancouver headquarters when it came into view. It was a stately home, perched in the hills high above the city. Almost Victorian in appearance, it had been built just after World War I to Lucien’s specifications, and it boasted balconies and gables at every turn of its three stories. Every window and door was blazing with light when the SUVs pulled up in front, as if Lucien’s people were shining a beacon to guide their Sire home.

  The passenger door on the front SUV popped open as soon as they came to a stop, and Sophia jumped out, hurrying through the gate and up the long walkway. The front door opened before she reached it, white light pouring out briefly before the door filled to overflowing with vampires who surged out onto the porch and down the stairs. One of the males stepped ahead of the rest, stalking toward Sophia angrily.

  “Darren Yamanaka, my lord,” Duncan provided. “Lucien’s lieutenant.”

  Raphael watched the two of them arguing. Yamanaka was only average in height, but he was thickly built and trying to use his size to his advantage. Not that it seemed to be working, since Sophia didn’t appear the least bit intimidated by the larger male. But then her power exceeded Yamanaka’s by a considerable margin, which was all that really mattered. Raphael let the argument continue for a few moments, then shifted irritably.

  “We don’t have time for this,” he said. Reaching to his left, he yanked the latch and shoved the truck door open on his side. Rounding the front of the truck, he pushed through the gate and came up behind Sophia in time to hear Yamanaka accusing her of betraying their master, of inviting the enemy into the heart of his territory, that enemy being Raphael himself, of course.

  “Enough,” Raphael said quietly, putting sufficient power into it that every vampire present heard him and obeyed.

  Darren shot Sophia a killing glare before turning it on Raphael. “We will not surrender without a fight, my lord. You may kill us all, but you will pay some price at least for the theft of our Sire’s life and sovereignty.”

  Raphael studied Darren, admiring the vampire’s courage, even as he disdained the foolishness of it. “Don’t be an ass, Yamanaka. If I wanted your master’s territory, you’d be dead already.”

  The vampire’s eyes flared briefly, but as he was not, in truth, suicidal, he turned his anger on Sophia, instead. “Is this how you help our Sire, Sophia? You bring his enemy to his doorstep?”

  “Shut up, Darren,” Sophia hissed. “
I slapped you down once, and I can do it again. If you read Lucien’s letter, you know—”

  “What letter?” Darren asked, his anger disappearing.

  Sophia opened her mouth to respond, but Raphael intervened. “Perhaps we should take this inside,” he suggested. “Or is it your intent to entertain the neighbors?”

  Sophia looked smug, but Yamanaka jolted at his words, darting glances at the other houses up and down the street. Granted none was closer than a hundred yards, but sound carried unexpectedly in hills like these.

  “We will use Lucien’s study,” Sophia announced serenely and gestured toward the house in invitation.

  “Excellent,” Raphael agreed. He started up the walkway, his security forming a tight cordon around him, effectively brushing aside any last ditch objections by Lucien’s people. Yamanaka watched broodingly as they passed and Raphael was aware of Lucien’s lieutenant falling in behind as they reached the stairs.

  He felt a brush of Sophia’s power and heard her chide the other vampire, “Don’t be a fool, Darren.”

  Raphael smiled grimly without looking back. He hadn’t come here looking for conquest, but if Lucien was truly gone, it might not hurt to winnow the field of contenders before he left. After all, Raphael didn’t want a fool sitting on his northern border.

  Once inside, Sophia directed them to a narrow staircase and up to the third floor. She strode around Raphael and his security at that point, leading the way down a short hallway to a pair of closed doors. Like everything else in the house, they were old and much narrower than those found in more modern homes. But they were also well cared for and carved in beautiful detail. Sophia pushed the doors open and crossed the room, pulling aside a pair of heavy curtains to reveal the lights of Vancouver behind a set of French doors leading to the balcony beyond.

  The room itself was large and filled with Lucien’s papers and possessions, as well as a strong sense of the vampire lord’s powerful presence. Drinking in that essence, as if Lucien himself stood in the room, Raphael went directly to the glass doors on the opposite wall and stepped out onto the balcony. Walking right up to the blackened iron railing, he gripped the cold metal and opened his senses to the unique signature that was Lucien.

  What he found didn’t surprise him. He’d suspected as much from the moment he’d crossed the border with its weakened defenses. But the expectation did nothing to lessen the concern that confirmation brought. He’d known Lucien wasn’t dead, but this might be worse.

  He felt Duncan’s presence behind him. “Do you feel it?” he asked.

  Duncan moved up next to him and shook his head slowly. “It’s odd, my lord. I feel a definite presence, but it’s . . . weakened somehow. I don’t know what it is.”

  “No,” Raphael said. “I doubt you’d recognize it. I myself have experienced it only once before, hundreds of years and thousands of miles from here.”

  “What is it?” Sophia’s voice came from the doorway behind them.

  “Fading,” Raphael said.

  “What does that mean?” she demanded. “I’ve never heard—”

  Raphael spun around to face her. “Lucien is dying.”

  * * * *

  Sophia heard Raphael’s words and saw the absolute certainty in his black eyes. And she felt her heart squeeze nearly dry in her chest. Lucien couldn’t die. She wouldn’t allow it.

  “You will find him, then,” she said, not asking but telling. “If you can feel him dying, you can—”

  “No,” he said, pushing her back inside by the simple expedient of walking forward himself. “I’m afraid Lucien does not want to be found.”

  “Of course, he wants to be found. My Sire would never accept death that easily. He loves life far too much.”

  “I admit it’s unlike him,” Raphael agreed with an irritating calm. “Perhaps he’s overcome with guilt.”

  He was moving around Lucien’s study, picking up objects and studying them before putting them back down in the precise position he’d found them. Sophia watched him roam about as if measuring the place for new furniture—his furniture—and suddenly regretted letting him in here at all. Maybe Darren had been right.

  “Tell me, Sophia,” Raphael said, turning that emotionless gaze on her. “Why do you suppose Lucien sent for you?”

  Sophia stared at him, not expecting the question, but keeping her own gaze every bit as flat as his. “I would assume he wanted me to find whoever had done this and avenge his people.” It sounded weak, even as she said it.

  Raphael gave her a patronizing smile. “Why you? Why not Darren? He is Lucien’s lieutenant, after all, and he’s already here. He knows the city better than you, and probably the people, as well. For that matter, he’s far more likely to have contacts among my own vampires, something Lucien would have known to be useful. So why you?”

  Sophia bristled with anger that he persisted in quizzing her, as if he knew some secret that she didn’t. Or maybe she was just angry at being forced to confront the truth. No longer. She drew herself up and met his gaze directly.

  “I’m more powerful than Darren,” she said bluntly. “To my knowledge, I’m the strongest of Lucien’s children.”

  Raphael shrugged. “Is that significant here?”

  Sophia glared at Raphael with something close to hatred. Only a strong sense of self-preservation kept her from lashing out at him as she snarled, “Lucien intended me to be his successor. If he dies, I need to be here.”

  That smug smile of his grew, but there was no humor in his voice when he pinned her with those silver-struck eyes and said, “Then I suggest you act. Lucien’s fading is already weakening his borders. Before long, you’ll have contenders from across the continent descending to fill the vacuum left by his absence. You are fortunate in your neighbors for now. I have no desire to expand my territory and Rajmund in the Northeast is still consolidating his power. He has no energy to spare for anyone else. But that won’t last forever. And as the vulnerability grows, the signs of it will spread.”

  He glanced around the room, as if surveying the territory’s invisible boundaries. “Someone needs to reinforce Lucien’s defenses before it’s too late. For now, several of you can work together, if you can get along well enough. But eventually, one person will have to step into the breach. If it is not to be you, it will certainly be someone from outside, because Darren Yamanaka is not up to the task. He’ll fall to the first contender.”

  Raphael signaled his security people and headed for the doors to the hallway.

  “Wait,” Sophia demanded. She wanted answers from the big vampire lord, not lectures.

  He stopped just inside the room, turning back to regard her with one eyebrow raised at her preemptory command.

  “Could Lucien be a prisoner? Could someone be starving him, holding him captive?”

  Raphael tilted his head to one side, as if considering her question. “It is possible,” he conceded. “Lucien was ever too trusting.”

  Sophia expelled a long breath, part relief that Lucien might yet live, and part agony that her Sire could be starving, tortured by his captors.

  “Will you be returning with us?” Raphael asked.

  Sophia stared blindly for a moment, her mind struggling to take in his question on top of everything else she’d just had dumped on her. She blinked and swallowed hard, then nodded once.

  “Yes,” she said. “The key to finding Lucien lies in solving these crimes.”

  Raphael signaled to someone. “One of my vehicles will wait, so that you may confer with your fellow house members before you leave.”

  Sophia sank into the chair behind Lucien’s desk as Raphael strode from the room, her head sinking into her hands. She didn’t want this. Not the mysterious deaths of Giselle and the others, not Lucien’s cryptic letter or his sudden disappearance, and sure as hell not the almost certain battle with Darren over control of Lucien’s territory. She gasped out loud as the thought made itself known. There would be no battle for control, because Lu
cien was not dead, and he wasn’t going to be. She didn’t for one minute believe he was trying to kill himself over some ridiculous sense of guilt. The idea was laughable. Lucien had clearly been saddened by the deaths of Giselle and her young men. His letter was proof of that. But the greatest portion of his sadness was probably reserved for himself, that he had to suffer their loss and deal with the consequences.

  No, she would find whoever was doing this, and she would find Lucien, too. He might need her help for a few months, maybe even a year, while he regained his strength. But then things would return to normal.

  At the same time, she was forced to admit that Raphael had a point. If her Sire was to have a territory to come back to, something would have to be done right now to secure it. Somehow she and Darren—