by Lyons, Rene
No soul would be released to God since the vampire who took her life stole her soul. Seeing the flames and smoke rise into the night sky, he knew it would only be a matter of time before someone noticed it and called the fire department. Lucian bowed his head, said one final prayer, and returned to his silver Maserati Spyder.
He knew he’d never forget what he saw here. He’d carry the girl with him for the rest of his nights.
Through his remembrance of her, Lucian would give her the only form of immortality he could. Someone, even if it were only a vampire, would make sure she was not only avenged, but remembered throughout time.
*
By the time Lucian arrived at Seacrest Castle his mood turned foul enough to have Tristan taking a step back when he stormed into the great hall.
Tristan Beaumont, the unofficial leader of the Templars, was the proverbial older brother to them all. The one they all followed in life—and nothing changed in death. He shouldered the heaviest burden for their redemption and not one night passed when any of them forgot it.
Crossing the hall, a perfect replica of the Beaumont’s ancestral home in Northumberland, Lucian stalked to the hearth. Attempting to find some small warmth from the fire, he didn’t know why any of them bothered anymore. As long as they were without souls they’d never know warmth.
Turning away from the dancing orange flames, he pinned Tristan with a frosty stare. “Another girl was killed tonight.”
Tristan swore under his breath. “Bloody hell!” He let out a heavy sigh of regret. “This makes two now, does it not?”
“As far as we know.”
Tristan pursed his lips and shook his head sadly.
“Have you told the others?”
“No. I came straight here.”
“I’ll call them and tell them.” Tristan sat on one of the chairs positioned before the hearth. He stroked his chin thoughtfully before letting out a long and drawn out sigh. “Where did you find her?”
“Off Blackwell Road. Almost everything was the same as the first, except this girl had to have been held prisoner for days. Days, Tris!”
“Jesus Christ. Do I even want to know?”
“No, you don’t.” Lucian shook his head curtly. “Let’s leave it at, ‘it was bad’. They didn’t merely feed from her. They tortured her and stole her fucking soul.”
Tristan closed his eyes, fighting back the fury the image evoked. More so than the others, he couldn’t lose himself to emotions. Their salvation hinged on his ability to always remain in control.
Once his emotions were reined in Tristan opened his eyes. “You think these two murders are connected to the Daystar?”
“What else am I to think?” Lucian sat on the couch between the two chairs. “What other explanation can there be for the sudden surge of renegade activity? I tell you, Tris, these vampires aren’t only feeding. It’s more than that. The bastards are searching for something.”
This area of Wayne County was extremely rural and sparsely populated. The summer was short, the winters long and severe, hardly a place to attract a large vampire population. Yet here they were, coming in droves since it was a hotspot of paranormal activity.
Most vampires kept to themselves, feeding quietly and staying under the radar. Their discretion was what kept the Templars from hunting them down and taking them out. As long as the renegades, the lowest form of vampire in the nocturnal hierarchy, behaved they had no need to rekindle an ancient war put to rest centuries ago.
Besides, a good old-fashioned vampiric war might attract too much unwelcome attention into their world.
“They tortured this girl trying to get information from her.”
Lucian wanted to agree with Tristan but he knew the girl’s torture ran deeper. “No. I think I was more than that.”
A deep frown furrowed Tristan’s brow. “What do you mean?”
Lucian shook his head in frustration. “I can’t say. It’s something my gut is telling me.”
Tristan slapped him on the knee and stood. “Dawn is coming. I feel your hunger and it’s doing you no good. Feed, then go home and get some rest. I’ll tell the others we’ll meet here tomorrow night.” He gave Lucian a level look. “We’ll find out who did this and there will be justice.”
Lucian rose and nodded to Tristan, who looked worn tonight. Haggard. They all knew his burden and none envied him it. “You look like shit, Guardian. Take your own advice and go take care of business.”
“I’m fine.”
His curt tone told Lucian he was anything but fine. Not wanting to press him, Lucian clapped a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
He quit the hall, heading back to his car with a heavy heart. Shit was about to go down—and it was going to go down hard. A war with the Obyri was fast approaching. The Templar’s fate hung in the balance of the outcome of such a battle.
Driving through the courtyard, Lucian couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at the small chapel set in the far corner of the bailey. He felt the call of the power it housed, thanking God renegades weren’t susceptible to the power of the relic. The last thing they needed was a war with both renegades and the Obyri, another faction of Templar Vampires.
Hell, they were good, but no one was that good.
Relief came to him only once he was through the gatehouse. He didn’t know how Tristan managed to hold fast to resolve in the face of such temptation.
Speeding toward Edessa, Luc knew Tristan called it right, the bloodlust was upon him, and if he didn’t feed quickly, with dawn approaching he’d lose the chance.
Exhausted in body and mind, he knew sleep would bring him no peace this day. Warm brown eyes staring lifelessly at him would haunt his dreams until night came and he woke to his damnation, his only solace, the knowledge that when he found the renegades responsible he’d get the chance to make them suffer for their actions. Though, unless they found the Daystar, renegades were going to keep coming and continue killing. With only one lead to go on so far, Lucian was afraid things were going to get awfully ugly before this whole thing came to an end.
Chapter Six
Allie and the Templars sat around Seacrest Castle’s massive dining table. Her gaze kept going back to the smiling face of Jordan Brewster. The girl’s picture was slapped on the front page of the Damascus Daily Herald after her body turned up burned outside of an abandoned house. It too had been burned, though who set the fire none of the Templars knew.
Someone obviously went back to the scene of their crime and set fire to the house once Lucian left.
Opening the paper to the second page, Allie read the brief accounting of events, trying desperately not to look at the picture of Jordan’s distraught parents. The article stated Jordan recently turned twenty and worked at Cherry Ridge Veterinary Hospital. She went missing three days prior to the discovery of her body last night, which was identified by her perfectly intact wallet on the ground next to her. Now, all they had to do was verify her identity through dental records.
Whoever killed her wanted authorities to know who she was. Blaming her kidnapping, and ultimate death, on transients, the police suspected someone burned her body in order to get rid of evidence.
Well, at least that much was true.
Lucian was left with no choice but to clean up the renegade’s mess. Bad enough Josh and Nick, the two brothers who owned the paranormal magazine Allie worked for, were already breathing down Allie’s neck to investigate the “recent surge of vampire activity in the area”, none of them needed the cops to come sniffing around as well.
All it would take was the slightest whiff of strangeness to have Wayne County’s finest knocking on Allie’s door. As far as everyone was concerned, if anyone would know weird it was Crazy Allie.
Not that they’d be wrong on that account. Weird and Allie went hand and hand. If the cops came to her, they could easily trace her steps back to the Templars, something to be avoided at all costs.
The rules governin
g the Templars were clear and concise. They were not to kill a human unless their existence was threatened. All bets were off then and they were free to do whatever was necessary to preserve their existence and the relic they protected. That meant if the police came around and started poking their noses into the Templar’s affairs, well, needless to say, there’d be a few less cops on the force.
Unable to look at the picture of Jordan’s smiling face next to the one of her grieving parents, Allie put the paper down. Glancing down the incredibly long table, she noticed Sebastian trying everything in his power not to notice her.
So be it. If he wanted to be a baby, fine by her, she’d indulge his silly game for now since she wasn’t willing to disrupt the meeting by making a scene.
Instead, she took in the hall and the beauty of the castle, which never failed to take her breath away. As always she glanced above the entrance, where the Latin words For the Glory of God were carved directly into the stone. The same maxim was engraved on the inside of Sebastian’s ring.
The dais the table set upon separated the dining area from the rest of the cavernous hall. Museum quality tapestries depicting Crusade scenes hung on the gray stone walls. The long, pointed windows were covered with heavy black drapes, which, when drawn, kept out every shard of daylight.
Since it was imperative to keep Seacrest looking as normal as possible, already a difficult thing given it was a castle, building it sans windows would have definitely raised a brow or two. As if a castle sitting as bold as you please in the Pennsylvania wasn’t already weird!
A fire burned in the massive hearth as it always did, adding to the heat of the night. Keeping her discomfort to herself, she wished she could inconspicuously to get rid of the sweat pooling in her cleavage.
Gathered at Seacrest Castle, they were trying to work the renegade problem and formulate a plan to locate the Daystar. Though she made every effort to pay attention, her mind kept wandering back to Sebastian. Besides, how did anyone expect her to concentrate on the business at hand when surrounded by five gorgeous Templars? Way too much male gathered within the same room, their raw masculinity worked havoc on her senses.
Tristan, who sat at the head of the table looking worn from worry, could almost pass for normal if he had some color to him. With his long, sandy hair tied neatly back in a queue, a steel gray tee shirt and black jeans, he nearly looked like an ordinary man—insanely gorgeous, but ordinary nonetheless. His eyes were what gave him away, that and his fangs.
No, that wasn’t quite right.
None of the Templars could ever pass for normal.
They may dress in today’s styles, had, for the most part, adopted modern characteristics, but the truth was, they were far from ordinary. Replace their modern clothing with chain mail and horses for cars, and they’d looked every bit the medieval warriors they were born to be.
Hell, they still carried their swords.
None of them spoke about their lives and Allie didn’t ask. Once, Raphael confided in her about how they died and were damned as vampires, but after seeing his pain when he related the awful tale to her, she decided to never force them to relive such things. She loved them all too much to bring back the agony that came with talking about their lives.
Most of what she knew came from Internet research on the Knights Templar. She knew they were in France when King Philip ordered the arrest of the French Knights. Imprisoned at Chinon for three years, they were among the fifty Knights burned to death in Paris.
Raphael talked about it with her only once, and not in any great detail. His pain was obvious when he told her Michael took them from the flames at the moment of their deaths and damned them as vampires.
They’d lost their faith yet continued to fight and kill in the name of God. For that grievious sin, Michael took their souls and denied them entrance into Heaven.He spoke no more about it once he told that to her. She sensed he wanted to—maybe even needed to—but couldn’t. The pain of the memories must have been too awful to dwell on.
She never asked any of them about the past again.
When Allie looked over at Sebastian, sitting with his brow furrowed in a frown and his hands steepled under his chin, she was tempted to make a scene to get his attention. The way he pointedly refused to look at her was rude and annoying. If the mood wasn’t so somber she’d flash a boob at him to crack his icy veneer.
“Now that we’ve concluded the renegades finally got the balls to come out of hiding, does anyone else agree with what Lucian said?”
Tristan’s voice pulled Allie out of her musings. “Why would renegades force our wrath by deliberately leaving those girls here for you to find?”
Allie looked to Lucian when Raphael asked that. The Knight sat stiffly and threw Rogue a glare. “If you saw the way they were left you’d need not ask that.”
“Yes well, I didn’t see them and we’re talking about starting a war here. Not exactly the smartest thing to do.”
“Luc’s right.” Sebastian threw out. “It’s obvious this is about more than just the Daystar.”
Tristan sighed loud and long, his gaze going to the picture of Jordan’s smiling face. Seeing the flash of sorrow in Tristan’s eyes, Allie turned the paper over. “This is the last thing we need right now.”
Constantine nodded somberly. “Our time is fast approaching.”
Though Con’s statement made no sense to Allie, it obviously did to the Templars. By their agreeing nods and heavy sighs, whatever was “fast approaching” was one of those things she wasn’t privy to. If they were keeping her in the dark about it, chances were good it was something bad.
“Now that we’ve established their deaths were overkill and about more than the Daystar, what do we do about it? Go to war and hope we can take the entire renegade armies before Victor comes sniffing around?”
Allie didn’t know who the Victor was Sebastian mentioned, nor was she going to ask.
“A full on war will bring too much attention. That’s something we can’t afford.” Tristan announced.
“So, we can’t sit back and do nothing,” Raphael added. “Can’t say I agree with that option either.”
“I’m not saying we should do nothing.”
“We should wait,” Constantine, the most bloodthirsty of them all, stated. Allie found it shocking he wasn’t calling for war between the factions. “The fuckers will get sloppy and slip up. When they do we strike hard.”
“Did you see a vision about this?” Sebastian asked.
“No. I don’t need a vision to give me common sense.” He retorted sarcastically. “We go to war, it’s the five of us against hoards of renegades. Not to mention the Obyri will come and stick their noses into it. We’ll lose and we’ll go to Hell and I’m not going out like that.”
Though Allie didn’t know too much about the Obyri, she did know they were also damned Knight Templars. Though where God believed the Templars were worthy of redemption, not so the Obyri who were colder and more vicious than any renegade.
“Until we find the Daystar, renegades are going to keep coming,” Lucian predicted. “If we wait to act, we might be too late to do a damn thing.”
“Not to mention whoever killed that one,” Raphael pointed to the paper, “got their jollies doing it.”
Tristan nodded heavily. “We can’t go to war. That’s not on option. And though Constantine is right about waiting, Lucian has a point as well. The longer we sit around waiting, the more destruction these bastards are going to cause.” He leaned back in his chair, for the first time Allie saw the fire of battle burn in his eyes. “I say it’s time to bring the fight to them.”
“But you just said no war.”
“You’re right, Raphael. I’m not saying war. I’m saying small battles. We take it to them one by one until we catch the bastards.”
A devilish gleam lit Lucian’s eyes. It was obvious he was gunning for the blood of the vampires killing these women. “I’ll continue to go out hunting until we find them and end t
hem.”
“You do that. I need you two out there as well.” Tristan pointed to Constantine and Raphael, as if they needed to be told to go spill some renegade blood. To Sebastian, he threw a long, meaningful stare. Allie had no idea what the look meant. “I hate that I’m trapped behind these damn walls.”
“Yes, well, we need you here,” Raphael said to him. “Don’t worry, Guardian, I’ll give one a good beat-down with your name all over it.”
Tristan’s lips curled back to reveal his fangs. “I hate to say it but, I miss a good fight.”
Allie shifted uncomfortably in her chair, again drawing Sebastian’s attention. Seemed he couldn’t keep his gaze from going back to her.
For the past hour, every time she looked away from him, he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on her. Though he knew he should be paying attention to the meeting, Allie was a terrible distraction to him. He loved that she wore her hair up tonight since it showed off her throat. The artery pulsating with every beat of her heart held his attention long enough to mesmerize him. Focusing his hearing, he listened to the rush of blood through her body. His mouth watered to taste her again as the rich scent of gardenias filled him.
Like a deafening roar, Allie was not to be ignored. Whenever they were together, her presence stole his attention. Even tonight, when he should be concentrating on what was being said, his focus was insteadon Allie.
She must have felt his hot stare since her gaze drifted back to him. Catching him watching her, she gave him a small, secret smile that hit him like a fist to his gut.
“Allie.”
Tristan calling her name for the third time earned him both her and Sebastian’s attention.
“Huh?” She looked adorably dumbfounded.
“Are you alright?”
She nodded at Tristan. “Yep. Why?”
“You were a million miles away.” An amused grin played at Guardian’s lips, telling Sebastian he knew exactly where her mind had been.
“That’s strange since I’ve been paying attention the entire time.”