Ulysses Exposed (Blaire Thorne Book 1)

by N Gray

  “I’m sorry for the pain I caused you,” Seraphine said. “Please accept my humble apology.” Still holding my hand, she curtsied and bowed her head.

  Her hands felt warm in mine. When they started to get hot, I tried to free my hand from her grip as gently as possible. How could I tell a woman to leave my hand alone when she could kill me with a single snap of her fingers?

  I smiled. “Thank you for apologizing, but you couldn’t control what Danny did. I’m sorry that he hurt you. He drove you to do what you thought was best.” There. That sounded good enough for me.

  She let go, and her arms fell against her sides. Her haunting eyes were trying to peek inside my soul. I glanced at Sebastian, but all he did was shrug.

  “Thank you for accepting my apology, Blaire. I am in your debt.”

  With her hypnotic eyes boring inside me—through me—I couldn’t look away. My breathing became labored, and heat swam around me, burning my skin. I wanted nothing more than to get away from her.

  “Seraphine, what are you doing?” That was Sebastian’s voice. I couldn’t look at him; all I saw was endless green as her eyes remained fixed on mine.

  “Seraphine?” Sebastian’s voice sounded strained.

  Suddenly, I found that I could breathe again, and I swam out from the water of her mind to fill my lungs with air. I climbed out from the hot pool she had placed me in and walked to the shore where the wind began to cool me down.

  Seraphine blinked and broke the metaphysical link. “She is different, Sebastian. I have met no one who can do this—especially not a human. And yet, here she is, right in front of me.”

  The seriousness her face had shown when she first entered the room was gone, replaced now with wonderment. Her skin glowed, her eyes lit up and her smile was wide.

  Why had she needed to display her power?

  Sebastian fell silent. He had his habitual blank face on. The man was so hard to read.

  I cleared my throat and said, “Why did you do that, Seraphine? It felt like you were trying to suffocate me.”

  “I’m sorry, dear, but there was something in your aura when I first entered that made me curious.”

  “My aura?”

  She nodded. “Yes. At first, it was weak, but after I lifted the curse, it brightened. I have never seen one so bright—so white—before.”

  “What does that mean? You’re the second person to tell me that.”

  “Sebastian told me that you have no memory of your life before the attack.” She looked solemn as she spoke. “Because your aura is pure, Blaire, I had to see who you are.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that you have a direct link to the spiritual world; you are open and receptive to the divine world, to my world—to any world. And with this gift, you can borrow powers from others, store them and use them when you need to. You can almost be”—she paused, thinking of the correct word to use— “lethal.”

  My mouth gaped open.

  “Was she born with this link, or is it as a result of the attack?” Ralph asked.

  “Oh no, she was born with this.” Seraphine seemed in no doubt.

  I felt my eyes widen. Had I known this before the attack but had chosen to keep it a secret from everyone? Even Ralph seemed not to know about it. Shit. Something deep down in the pit of my stomach clenched tightly—and I knew.

  I knew that no one was meant to know this about me. There was a reason I had kept it from everyone. Now my secret was out, it could only spell trouble.

  Ralph said what I was thinking. “Is she in danger?”

  Seraphine and Sebastian exchanged a knowing glance that made my stomach twist. I believed in always trusting your gut instinct, and mine was waving red flags. Deep shit. I was in trouble.

  “It is possible,” Seraphine answered and stepped back. “Again, I apologize for the intrusion of your mind. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No, you didn’t, but you’ve given me a shitload to think about. What must I do with this information, Seraphine? How can I understand more of it?” I sounded angry again. I guessed that I could ask Désiré to help me by looking into her coven’s literature, but I did not know how long that would take, and, besides, she hadn’t seemed to know all that much when she mentioned my aura. Perhaps Seraphine was the best chance I had of shedding some light on my abilities.

  “Let me speak with my high priestess and await my return.” She curtsied again and started for the door. She whispered something in Sebastian’s ear and then left.

  “What? What did she say to you?” I asked. My anger flared, and I crossed my arms over the covers, the bra strap still hanging loosely from my right arm.

  “She said that I must keep you here, where you are safe. I said I would try.”

  “I’ve had enough bad shit happen to me the last couple of days to last a lifetime. What I want is to get out of this bed, get dressed, and do something. I need to find out what is happening to me and why I was attacked in the first place. Someone paid to have me killed. Do you understand that, Sebastian?”

  “Let me get Mel to help you,” Sebastian said. He opened the door to leave, and it clicked once he had closed it.

  “Did he just lock the fucking door?”

  “Geez, Blaire, tone down the language. You cuss, but not normally this much.”

  “Well, I guess no one really knows what I’m like, now do they, Ralph?”

  Ralph turned hurtful eyes on me and fell silent. He stood against the wall, staring at me as though I had sprouted a second head.

  I didn’t have a watch, but minutes went by and an uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Ralph rested his head against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his left leg bent, and his foot pressed against the wall. He avoided eye contact—it looked like he was counting the tiny holes in the ceiling. I removed the bra strap from my right arm; I felt silly with it only half-on. Mel was on her way to remove the drip, and then I would dress properly.

  The lock clicked, and the door opened. A woman I presumed to be Mel stepped through with Sebastian just behind her. She was slim and had platinum-colored hair that stopped at her shoulders. Something in the way she carried herself reminded me of Sebastian, and I began to assume that she was most likely a were-animal, too. I envied her hair color and wondered whether her fur was the same color when she assumed her animal-form. Like Seraphine and myself, she, too, came up to Sebastian’s shoulders.

  Her eyes seemed to smile when her lips did, and the anger that I was holding onto so tightly began to dissolve. My jaw ached from the clenching. She glided over to me and started removing things. When she pulled on the needle to remove it, I focused on a spot on the wall.

  In the blink of an eye, Sebastian moved from the doorjamb to stand next to me. I hated when were-animals did that—moving too fast for my brain to register. His eyes flickered from me to Ralph and back to me. “Did you two have a fight?” he asked, his face close to mine.

  “That’s none of your business,” I said with a sarcastic smile, and my anger flared again.

  I felt a prick on my left hand, and a small yelping sound escaped my lips. Mel placed a cotton ball over the hole and pressed firmly to stop the bleeding. As quickly as it came, my anger dissolved.

  “Okay, boys; out,” Mel said, and the two men left. She grabbed jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of shoes and socks from the closet. She left the shoes on the floor near to me and placed the clothing on the bed.

  “Why are you so angry?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” I lay my head back on the pillow, my right hand cradling my left.

  She touched my left arm, and the anger started to fade again.

  “How can you calm me down with just your touch?”

  “I’m a were-wolf, dear. That’s one of the things I can do. It helps with my real job,” she said, winking.

  “Can’t I hold your hand forever?”

  Mel laughed. “No, I have a day job.”

  “Can you teach
me? The soothing touch, I mean?”

  She considered that for a moment and said, “I can try to help you, if you like?”

  “I would. When things settle down, I would like that very much.”

  “I’ll give you my number. Call me when you’re ready.” She wrote her number on a piece of paper and placed it on top of the pile of clothing.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are any of your memories coming back yet?”

  “Not really.” I shrugged.

  She made a ‘hmm’ sound and reached for the bra.

  “Thanks, but I can dress myself.” I started slipping my arms through the bra straps, fixed my breasts in place, and fastened the back. I grabbed the shirt and pulled it on, threw the covers back and pulled the jeans on. I sat back on the bed and pulled on the socks and shoes.

  “Are there any toiletries for me to use?”

  “Try the bathroom.” She gestured with her right arm toward the bathroom door. It was the door to the left of the closet. Once inside, I locked the door behind me.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My green eyes were the complete opposite of Seraphine’s; mine were grey/blue instead of green, with a dark ring around the iris. There were dark shadows around my eyes, and my cheeks looked gaunt. I washed and dried my face, removing a layer of sweat. I applied deodorant that I had found in the little bag on the basin along with a toothbrush and toothpaste, and I used those to brush my teeth.

  I felt better, but what I really wanted was a long, hot bath. With my hair in need of a good wash, I found an elastic and tied it back.

  I heard talking from the other room and decided that I didn’t want to go back out there, but I had to. I inhaled and exhaled, unlocked the door and went back into the room where everyone was whispering.

  CHAPTER 18

  I FELT BETTER now that I was dressed. Now, I needed a plan. We—Ralph and I—could check out the shipyard for any clues we might have missed first time around.

  When I opened the bathroom door, the room fell silent as everyone turned to stare at me. There were two more people in the room, now—Léon and Roland, the vampiric star attraction from the club.

  Léon’s short hair was styled back with a few loose strands falling over his dark ocean-blue eyes. He wore a grey long-sleeve vintage mandarin collar shirt with gold patterns laced everywhere, tight black pants and polished boots. I couldn’t make out if the pants were leather, cotton or vinyl, as there was no shine to them—but they were tight, almost as though they had been painted on.

  Léon came toward me with both hands out. “Blaire, so glad to see you up and about. You scared me.”

  I scared him? That was an interesting choice of words. We had only known each other for less than a week, and he uses ‘me’ instead of ‘us’—which is a generalization. Maybe I did scare him, but only because of the mark we shared. Had he felt anything as I lay dying?

  He held my hands in his and came closer than before. His lips brushed my cheek gently, and it tickled, sending shivers down my spine and raising the hairs all over my body.

  “Did any of what was happening to me affect you?”

  He was still close to my face. “No, luckily, it did not,” he said in a whisper. He let go of my hands. “I would have come sooner, but we have guests that needed my urgent attention. I believe Mel and Sebastian have treated you well?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “This is Roland. I believe you saw him at the club the other night.”

  I felt heat creep up my neck as I began thinking about how his velvet voice could reach those areas without touching.

  Léon continued. “We were on our way back to our guests when we decided to stop by before you leave.”

  Roland’s shiny brown hair came up to his shoulders and seemed to shimmer in the light like a life-force all of its own. He was six feet tall, maybe, with deep-set brown eyes and a square jaw. He wore a tailored white dress shirt that curved to his body, diamond cufflinks, no tie, black slacks, and black boots.

  Roland stepped forward with an open hand. I gave him mine; his grip around my hand was firm yet delicate, and he brought it to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. The sensation from the kiss was both tender and electrifying all at once. I guess he has had centuries to practice.

  When he brought my hand back down, I glanced at his hand and noticed a scar; it looked like a burn.

  He noticed me staring and moved his hand so that I could see all of it. “It was priests,” he said. “They burned my body with crosses.”

  I didn’t know what to say; he was old, and the scars have been with him for years—would ‘I’m sorry’ even matter to someone like him?

  Instead, I said, “What happened to the priests?”

  The corners of his mouth tilted upward. “I killed them.” He let go of my hand.

  Of course, he killed them. You can’t burn a vampire with a cross and expect to live.

  “I thought vampires could heal?”

  “Not from holy water or the burn of a cross, I’m afraid. I will live with this until I am eventually staked through the heart.”

  Both vampires started laughing. Roland’s laugh was smooth and velvety—the kind of laugh that could make one wish for him to do naughty things to you—while Léon’s was deep and crisp. There was nothing more spectacular than listening to the laughs of these two vampires, as they were usually serious, ruthless and moody creatures of the night. Sebastian laughed with them—a mixture of a purr and a low growl and deeper than Léon’s, it was very much the sound I expected from a were-leopard.

  Mel was quiet, her expression serious, and I wondered if she even liked Roland.

  Ralph and I watched the men laughing. Once the laughter had died down, the two vampires walked toward the door.

  I had so many more questions for the two of them that I couldn’t let them just leave. “And what about your palms?” I asked Roland. “Did you grab hold of the crosses when they attacked you?” When Roland had offered his hand to me, there had been marks visible all over the palm which didn’t look as old as the burn on its reverse.

  Roland balled his hands into fists, and pink lines formed across the pale skin of his knuckles—he must have fed very well after he woke for the evening to show that much pink.

  His reply was curt. “That happened a couple of days ago. It was an accident.”

  “I did not know this. Did it happen at the club?” Léon asked, wanting to look at Roland’s hands, but Roland pulled away from his master.

  “It’s nothing, Léon.” Roland held his hands behind his back.

  “Why is this the first I am hearing of such an accident, and at one of my clubs? An accident which could scar even a vampire, Roland?” Léon’s voice was stern, and power rolled from him and into the other vampire.

  Roland lifted his head to look at Léon and held his hands out in front of him, palms up. Both hands were heavily scarred, as though he had held onto something hot for too long.

  “I was clumsy. One patron at the club threw a bottle with holy water at me, and I caught it. It spilled and burned my hands. I did not come to you with this because you have enough to worry about and I have taken care of it.” Roland bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back again.

  “Very well, but do not make the mistake of thinking you know what is best for me or my club, Roland. This is your last warning.”

  “Yes, Léon.”

  Léon turned to us with his hand on the door handle and said to me, “You and I need to talk about a few things. Will you come back in a day or two?”

  I wanted to talk to him now about the fact that we had been hired to kill him. I glanced at Ralph and tried to talk with my eyes, but I didn’t know if he knew me well enough to understand what I was asking.

  “Uh, okay, sure, I can come back. But there is something we need to ask you now, if you don’t mind.” The tone I used made clear that I wasn’t giving him the option.

  “What?” The word was filled with ang
er. Was he upset with Roland?

  I hoped his reaction wouldn’t be as harsh when once he found out what I wanted to say.

  Ralph realized what I wanted to ask and gave me the A-Okay by tilting his head—we needed to tell him about the contract on his life and to question him about the missing mummy and the jewels.

  “We know about the missing mummy of Amenemhat, and the jewels.”

  Léon’s body stiffened, but his face held no expression. He tried to block his emotions, but it was too late; I had already seen the discomfort.

  “And what is it you think you know?”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t sure when would be the best time to raise this, but our company, Ulysses Assassins, was given the contract to kill you, Léon. From what we found out, it’s all because of the jewels hidden with the mummy you shipped over from Egypt. The same shipment that mysteriously disappeared the evening I was attacked.”

  Roland started fidgeting with his left cufflink while Léon let go of the door handle and faced me.

  “Is the contract still valid?”

  “No”—I glanced at Ralph, and he nodded his agreement—“when someone tried to kill me and you saved my life, our priorities sort of changed. Whoever attacked me also killed a friend of ours, Shane—the torso Sebastian and I found in my car. We need to find his killer. You need to find Amenemhat and the jewels. And we think it is the same person who did both.”

  A knowing look passed between Sebastian, Léon and Roland. It was Sebastian who spoke. “We had heard that Léon’s life may be in danger. That is why he tripled his security and his schedule changes so often.”

  “Did you know we had been hired to kill you?” I looked at Léon. It was a good question. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Perhaps it had been the black stuff that was busy killing me from the inside. Now that I was rid of the infection, my brain seemed to work just fine.