Sophia

by D. B. Reynolds

  Chapter Thirty

  Sophia woke with a start, a howl of raw power still thundering in her head. She sat up, heart pounding with adrenaline, her own power roiling just beneath her skin. The sun wasn’t down yet. She could feel it clinging to the horizon and yet she was awake. And she wasn’t alone. Doors slammed open down the hall and footsteps pounded past. Voices were raised everywhere, shouting orders, demanding information.

  Sophia closed her eyes and listened. Not to the voices of panic and confusion outside her door, but beyond to that ephemeral something which was the aura of power, the gift of Vampire.

  She stretched out her senses as much as she dared in this unfamiliar place. She was a guest here, not welcome but tolerated. She had to be careful. A second wave of fury shook the walls, silencing the noise outside her door, sucking the breath from her lungs. She pressed a hand to her chest, drawing on her own power to insulate her from the anger and the pain that was all but oozing from the walls. Something had happened. Something terrible. Raphael was raging, his unbound wrath waking every vampire in the building, threatening to tear the walls down around them and causing the very air to vibrate for those with senses to feel it. She’d never experienced such raw pain from one so powerful. And she dreaded to discover what could have caused it.

  She dressed quickly, pulling a t-shirt and sweater over her head, stepping into her denims and jamming her feet into low boots. She yanked open her door, braiding her long hair as she ran, joining the guards and others who were hurrying in the same direction.

  The great room upstairs was controlled chaos. She smelled blood, a lot of it. She turned her head, tracking the scent to a location on the far side of the room, near the hallway to Lord Raphael’s private lair. Two of his vampire guards were removing a couch soaked in blood, another rolling up the rug which had lain before it. Across the way, a door stood open to the large room where she’d met Raphael that first night and she saw Duncan standing just inside, talking to someone out of sight.

  She headed that way. Whatever it was that had happened, Duncan would know. No doubt her presence would be unwelcome, but at worst, he’d ask her to leave. And at best, she would find out who was dead. Sophia hurried, determined to find out what had happened before Raphael’s people had a chance to shut her out. This had to be connected somehow to the recent murders and to Lucien’s disappearance. And she wanted to know whose blood had stained the couch red. She could think of no one but Raphael’s mate who could trigger an outpouring of such agonized rage from the powerful vampire lord. But if Cynthia had been injured or if, God forbid, she was dying, how had it happened? And had Colin been with her?

  She slowed down when she reached the tall double doors and slipped quietly inside the room. Duncan was there with his back to her, the mountainous Juro by his side. For the first time since she’d arrived, the two were dressed in something less than sartorial perfection. Duncan had clearly pulled on the first thing at hand, a pair of worn sweatpants and a t-shirt, his feet still bare. Juro had managed shoes and a pair of dark slacks, but his plain white shirt was untucked and only half buttoned.

  Neither acknowledged her presence, focusing instead on the third person in the room—a human male who was speaking rapidly.

  “It was bad, Duncan, as bad as I’ve seen. I don’t know if even Raphael can heal something like that.”

  “What happened, do you know?” Duncan asked intently.

  The human shook his head, clearly frustrated. “I didn’t ask. Robbie called ahead, warning me they were coming in with her. When they arrived—”

  “Who’s they?”

  “Ah, I think it was that local policeman—”

  “Colin?” The name slipped out before Sophia could stop herself. She froze as everyone turned to stare at her.

  “Sophia,” Duncan said in a cool voice. He paused, then tilted his head slightly. “Join us. This is Doctor Peter Saephan, a valued member of Lord Raphael’s staff.” He gestured in her direction. “Sophia, Lucien’s representative.”

  Sophia strode forward, nodding an acknowledgment. “What about Colin?” she demanded. “Was he injured?”

  “No,” Saephan said, shaking his head. “Well, not that I could see,” he amended. “I mean, he and Robbie were both scratched and bloodied, but I think most of the blood was Cyn’s. Murphy was driving. Robbie was in the backseat with Cyn and . . . Ah, God, Duncan, when I opened that door and saw them . . .”

  When he looked up, his eyes were full of misery. “There was nothing I could do for her. Even with a full trauma unit, I don’t know if I—”

  “You did what you could, Peter,” Duncan reassured him. “And so did Robbie by bringing her directly here. Where’s Robbie now?”

  “I sent him away. I was afraid of what Raphael would do when he saw her. I don’t know—”

  “They’re still at the gate,” Juro interrupted. “Murphy refuses to leave until he knows her condition.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Sophia said, keeping her voice every bit as emotionless as Duncan’s.

  Duncan turned that impersonal gaze on her once again, his face completely expressionless. “Very well,” he said. “Juro will walk you to the gate.”

  Sophia wanted to protest, to say she didn’t need anyone walking her the hundred yards to the damn gate, but decided it wasn’t worth arguing over. This was their compound and she’d only lose.

  “As you wish,” she responded impassively.

  * * * *

  Colin forced himself to remain still, aware of the hostile gazes of the vampire guards who had poured out of the building right after Raphael went ballistic and now seemed to have doubled in number over the last few minutes. Robbie was crouched a few feet away, next to the wall, his head lowered into his hands. He’d washed off most of the blood, using a garden hose near the garage. He’d all but forced Colin to do the same, turning the water on him almost without warning. Colin had thought it inappropriate, a waste of time and effort. Until the vampire guards had shown up to replace their human counterparts. Until every one of them had stared hard at Robbie, nostrils flaring. They’d paid less attention to Colin, but then he’d had less blood to wash away. Robbie had been almost bathed in it.

  Colin strode over to his Tahoe just for something to do. It was pretty much wrecked—there were no windows left, except the windshield which was cracked, the body was riddled with bullet holes and the inside was soaking wet from the water they’d used to wash away Leighton’s blood. Not that it mattered. He didn’t care about the damn truck. The only thing that mattered was whether she was dead or alive. And no one seemed able, or maybe willing, to tell him that.

  He tightened his hands into impotent fists. It was hard standing around here when what he wanted to do was start looking for the person who’d done this. That voice kept coming back, haunting him. He had to be wrong. It couldn’t have been—

  The vampire guards suddenly stiffened to attention. Colin spun around as Raphael’s huge Japanese security chief appeared out of the darkness, followed by—

  “Hello, Colin,” Sophia said. Her face was utterly calm, her voice devoid of any emotion.

  Colin just stared. This wasn’t Sophie from the village. This wasn’t even the seductress Sophia who’d shown up at his house the other night. This was Sophia in her true vampire visage. Her usually warm brown eyes were frigid pools of black in the low light, her body held haughtily upright. He turned his gaze away, wondering which was her real face, or if any of them were.

  Robbie had risen from his misery-soaked crouch as soon as they appeared. He was standing in front of the big Sumo guy now, hands fisted tightly on his hips, as if to keep them from grabbing the vampire and shaking the truth out of him. “How is she, Juro? Is she alive?”

  “She’s with Raphael,” Juro responded. “That’s all we know.”

  “She’s alive,” Sophia said with certainty. “None of us would be standing here if she’d died.”

  That made no sense to Colin, but it seemed to sati
sfy Robbie. He nodded and looked longingly up at the big house.

  “There’s no need for you to leave, Rob,” Juro’s deep voice rumbled with surprising compassion. “We know you did all you could. Lord Raphael will know it, too.”

  Robbie looked up, his face filled with gratitude, but he shook his head. “She shouldn’t have been there at all, Juro. It wasn’t—”

  “We both know her better than that,” Juro insisted. And for the first time, Colin saw real emotion cross the huge vampire’s face. It was the same expression he’d seen on Robbie’s face in that bloody car. The same thing he’d seen on the faces of his buddies as they paced the sterile halls of military hospitals, waiting for word on whether they’d be attending another funeral or cheating death one more time. It was a look he’d seen on his own face in the mirror. They loved Leighton. Not as a lover, but as a friend, as a comrade-in-arms.

  “Colin.” Sophia’s voice jerked him out of his contemplation of this new idea.

  “Yeah?”

  Her lip curled slightly, acknowledging his rudeness. “If I could have a word with you?”

  He studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

  * * * *

  Sophia gazed up into Colin’s eyes. They looked almost gray in this low light, but they were blue—a beautiful, crystalline blue that contrasted with the black hair now hanging wetly over his forehead. Black Irish, he’d told her, and she’d laughed at him, never having heard of such a thing before. He’d grinned then, but he wasn’t grinning now.

  She gave a small sigh, trying to figure out the right way to talk to this man, this human who, despite their shared past, was a stranger in this place and time. He didn’t seem to appreciate the danger he was in, and she suspected it was because he knew so little about vampires. What she’d said a moment ago was absolutely true. If Raphael’s mate died, nothing would save any of them. That much power unleashed in a storm of grief would wipe out everything for miles before the vampire lord even knew what he was doing. He would kill friend and foe alike, not discriminating in his blind need for revenge.

  But even if Cynthia didn’t die, there would be consequences. Colin and this other human, Robbie, had been with her when she was attacked. By Raphael’s reasoning that would make them responsible for failing to protect her. Robbie, certainly—he was some sort of bodyguard, after all. But Colin would be considered equally guilty by association. Raphael would remain with his mate through tonight at least. But when he finally emerged from his lair, he’d be looking for someone to punish. He’d hunt down those truly responsible, but his anger would begin with the first person at hand. And if she had anything to say about it, that person wouldn’t be Colin.

  But how to convince Colin of that?

  Aware of her vampire audience, particularly Juro, she turned her back on them and touched Colin’s arm, urging him away from the group and across the driveway. It wouldn’t stop Juro from hearing every word she said, but he wouldn’t be able to see her face when she said it.

  Colin surprised her by not shaking off her touch. He walked with her a few yards off the driveway and onto the grass. There wasn’t much moonlight, but there were security lamps above the gate. And Colin seemed untroubled by the dark, his footsteps sure on the uneven lawn.

  Careful to keep her back toward the gate and its vampires, she smiled up at him, a genuine smile of warmth and affection. He gave a little jerk of surprise at the change in her demeanor. He controlled it quickly, but she saw it. “You have very good night vision,” she commented.

  His eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure out her angle. But she didn’t have an angle. Finally, he shrugged. “Years of night ops. It stuck with me.”

  “Colin,” she began, her hand still resting on his thickly muscled forearm, “there’s something you need to understand about vampires, especially powerful ones like Raphael. Their—” She struggled for the word. “—aggression is very close to the surface. It’s part of what makes them who they are, what they are. Their willingness to fight for what they want, to defend what is theirs. And nothing, Colin, nothing is more sacred to a vampire than his mate. I heard the report from the human doctor—”

  Colin’s expression brightened immediately. “You talked to him? What’d he say?”

  Sophia smiled, marveling at the complexity of her human. Her human? Was that what he was? She sighed inwardly. “He told us she is very badly injured, that if she is to live, it will be Raphael who saves her.”

  Colin shook his head in denial, a pained look on his face. “I don’t understand that, Sophie. Everyone keeps saying Raphael can save her, but how?”

  A part of Sophia jolted with pleasure at his use of the nickname, but at the same time, she realized just how very little Colin knew about vampires. This wasn’t just about the power and aggression of a vampire lord; it was the essence of Vampire itself. And how much could she share with him? The vampire community held certain truths close and for very good reason. One of the most tightly concealed, and most dangerous, of those truths was the healing power of vampire blood.

  She studied the familiar face of the man in front of her, so clear to her vampire sight. He was a handsome man, her Colin, with a strong jaw and square chin. The slight creases around his eyes testified to his easy laughter, creases that hadn’t been there ten years ago. She wondered if another woman had put those laugh lines on his face and felt a surge of jealousy.

  The truth hit her like a jolt of electricity. She wanted him. Not for an hour or a night. She wanted him to be hers and no one else’s. Despair followed close behind, the knowledge that she might have destroyed whatever affection he once held for her when she’d made the decision to deceive him all those years ago.

  Her jaw tightened determinedly. She couldn’t change the past. But if she hoped for a future with him, only the truth would do now. He was still looking at her, waiting for an answer to his question.

  “Vampire blood is very strong, Colin, especially that of an old and powerful vampire like Raphael. A vampire mating is based on the exchange of blood. Cynthia’s human blood feeds him, but his blood keeps her healthy and young for as long as they are together. This is why most matings are between vampire and human. They sustain each other.”

  Colin was utterly focused on what she was saying. He was listening to every word, visibly taking it all in and storing it away, and she was forcefully reminded that Colin Murphy was more than a strong body, more than a highly skilled warrior. He had a first-class mind, as well.

  But Sophia didn’t want to say anything more about the healing properties of vampire blood, not in front of Juro and the others. She would answer all of his questions, but later, when they were alone.

  Something in her expression must have warned Colin, because he cocked his head just a fraction and smiled slightly. “So he can save her life?” he asked.

  “If anyone can,” she cautioned. “We won’t know for some hours and probably not until after sunset tomorrow. He won’t want to leave her side until she is completely stable, and perhaps not even then. I don’t know them well, but even I can see how much he loves her, and she’s important to these others, too,” she added, indicating the vampires around the gate and especially Juro and Robbie. “Their loyalty speaks, at least in part, to their master’s love for her.”

  “So what are you saying, Sophie? What do you want me to do?”

  She smiled gently. “I’m asking you to go home. It’s not safe for you here. If—if—the worst happens, Raphael will go a little mad, at least for a time. That’s why the doctor sent you and Robbie away in the first place. It’s not safe, especially for humans.”

  “But Juro told Robbie he could stay, that it was—”

  “And Juro is correct. It is probably safe for tonight. But Robbie has friends here, powerful friends who will argue on his behalf, perhaps even protect him as much as possible. You only have me.”

  Colin stared at her.

  “I will let you know immediately when we have n
ews, good or bad,” she quickly added. “Trust me this much.”

  He was still studying her. Finally, he blew out a breath and looked away, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll go home. But I’m trusting you, Sophie.” He met her gaze evenly. “I’m trusting you,” he repeated.

  “I know,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

  He shook his head once and spun on his heel, walking over to where Robbie still waited. Resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder, he said quietly, “I’m going home to shower and change clothes. You’re more than welcome to come with me. I have plenty of room.”