Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series

by Laurie D'Ghent

  Integrity sank into her armchair. “Take all the time you want,” she said, her breathing still not normal. 'Whew! I gotta spend more time in the gym.”

  Galia gave her an evil smile. “Ah, but then you risk having to share the room with...someone.”

  Integrity wished she had a pillow to throw at the maid.

  Є

  Galia and Integrity were working on the last bolt on one side support when Evan appeared in the doorway. Though he made no noise, Integrity could sense his presence like a weight pressing down on her. She tried to ignore him, but the stress was too great. She finally turned on him with a sound of impatience, still crouching where she held the bar level. “What do you want?” she spat at him.

  Integrity felt the weight increase as the last bolt was removed, but she continued to eye the intruder. She saw a muscle tense in his jaw. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice level and emotionless.

  Integrity dropped the bar onto the carpet, then stood. “What do you think? Performing brain surgery? I'm taking apart the bed.” Integrity crossed over the remaining support, then glanced at Galia when she didn't follow. The maid was staring studiously at the carpet. She may as well have been a statue for all the animation she showed. “The keys?” Integrity asked, extending one hand, her discomfort flowing into her words. When Galia made no move, Integrity sighed, crossed back over the bar, and retrieved them from Galia's limp hand. She returned to the other side and began unscrewing the first bolt. As it loosened, she could feel the end of the bed begin to pull on the remaining bolts.

  “Why are you doing that?” Evan questioned, still completely in control of his voice.

  Integrity sighed again, and glared at him. “What does it matter to you? It's my room.”

  “Technically, it's not,” he said, a hint of steel coloring his tone. “Nor is it your furniture, to dispose of as you please.”

  Integrity shook her head, turning back to her work. “Whatever.” She began unscrewing the second bolt, feeling the strain increasing. Galia remained motionless. The last turn released the bolt, and the bar rose into the air as the weight of the remaining piece pulled it over. Integrity hurriedly braced the headboard as it threatened to brain her.

  She heard Evan suck air between his teeth. “Idiot.”

  She turned to him, ready to attack, only to be brought up short at the sight of him cradling the foot board. His fingers explored the bolts nearest him, obviously searching for any damage.

  Before she could come up with a response, he barked at her, “You could have done permanent damage! Do you have any idea how old this bed is?”

  Integrity stood again, careful not the let the headboard fall on her. “Obviously not that old, since it has steel supports.”

  Evan almost spat through his teeth. “That's because the original supports were rotting through and had to be replaced.” Satisfied with his inspection, he leveled the support once more. Jerking his head at her, he ordered, “Screw it back together.”

  “No!” Realizing she sounded like a petulant child, she said, more calmly, “No. I won't. You keep me a prisoner here. If I want my bed on the floor, I'm going to put it there. You can't stop me.”

  “I'll put it back together myself,” Evan retorted, looking for something to prop up his end of the bed.

  “And I'll take it apart again.”

  She could almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the consequences of her assembling the bed alone. He studied her intently, for a moment, then slowly lowered the foot board so that the remaining support pointed straight at the ceiling. “If you want your bed on the floor, you can make space to keep the pieces in here.” He locked his gaze on her. “I would highly recommend that you make sure they are not knocked over. While I cannot kill you, I can make you wish I had. Every mark will be paid for.” He turned and left the room.

  Integrity sank back to the ground, absently raising one hand as she felt the headboard tilting toward her once more. She felt distinctly ill; there was no doubt in her mind that Evan did not expect monetary reimbursement, nor that he would follow through with his threats. You are an idiot, she thought, disgusted with herself. Of course he can hurt you. As long as you don't die, what do vampires care? She shivered involuntarily.

  Galia rose silently, and propped up the headboard so that the weight eased off of Integrity. “Shall we finish?” she asked gently.

  Unable to speak, Integrity nodded mutely, and the two finished their task in silence. When they had finished, Integrity's mattress rested on the floor, freshly and neatly made, and the pieces of the antique bed frame rested against the wall near her bathroom door, hovering like a malevolent spirit. After Galia had left, Integrity set her armchair in front of the wood, fearing that Kellin would bump into them and send them tumbling. She felt a deep-seated cold settle in the center of her body. She wasn't sure she'd ever feel warm again.

  Є

  With the passage of time, Integrity had convinced herself that Evan wouldn't really hurt her if any harm came to the bed, but she was protective of it, anyway. After all, she wasn't arrogant enough to think she could predict the behaviors of the undead.

  Although it was infinitely easier to get Kellin on and off her bed now, every glance at the bed frame made her feel darker, weighted down. She lay on the bed one morning, absently stroking Kellin, when Paul rapped lightly. Kellin jumped up and gave a bellowing bark, but hesitated at the edge of the bed before literally jumping off. Integrity laughed as she called, “Come in,” sitting up and shoving her hair back.

  “What's so funny?” Paul asked, carrying her breakfast tray to the high table against the wall, Kellin happily following behind him, tail wagging. When Paul stopped, Kellin rammed into him, then panted happily as Paul patted his head. “How's it going, Kell-bell?”

  “Watch this,” Integrity responded. Patting the bed loudly, she called, “Come here, Kellin. Come on.” The dog lowered his nose and walked swiftly to the bed, placed both front paws on the mattress, then stopped. “Come on!” Integrity continued to encourage. He lifted his front paws alternately, but made no move forward. “You can do it!” Finally, Kellin jumped off the floor and landed almost exactly on top of Integrity, knocking her flat. She laughed as she shoved one of his paws off her stomach. She could hear Paul laughing.

  “Way to go, Kell!” Paul cheered, coming over to thump on the dog's back. “You're such a stud! Jumping a whole six inches into the air!” Kellin barked again, happily tromping Integrity once more. She extricated herself and stood.

  “What masterpiece did you bring me today?” she asked Paul as she moved to the table, then made an appreciative noise. “Nice,” she complimented, sinking into one of the chairs. Paul remained crouched on the floor, lightly wrestling with the dog. After a moment, she asked, “See why the bed had to go on the floor? It makes life so much easier.”

  “I can imagine,” Paul said. “Seeing as you're the only one that sleeps here, it would only make sense that Kellin would want to hang with you when he sleeps. I just wish he could see that.” Paul jerked his head toward the door.

  “Since when does he see reason in anything?” Integrity grumbled as she took a vicious bite of her bagel. Paul looked away and raised his eyebrows. “What?” she asked.

  Keeping his voice light, Paul shrugged. “Turn about's fair play, Integrity. Did you ever look at it from his perspective?”

  “What? He's ticked off that the dog likes me?”

  Paul laughed. “Probably, but that's not what I meant.” He stopped for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then said, “Okay, think of it this way. You remember your old room? The big one upstairs?” Integrity nodded mutely. “Let's say that your positions were switched, and you were forced to have Evan live in your space.” Integrity pulled a face, but Paul ignored her. “He moves in, takes up your space. Every time you turn around, he's there. Your routine suddenly changes completely to accommodate him rather than yourself.”

  “Am I really that big of a pain
in the butt?” Integrity asked, offended. She set the rest of her bagel back on the plate, her appetite gone.

  “No, you know that's not what I mean,” Paul said, more gently. “But think about it. Evan's used to being alone 99% of the time. Now he's got not only you, but me, 24-7. You have to eat, so he has to smell my cooking. He has to accept that he can and will run into you anywhere, at any time. Do you get what I'm saying?”

  “Yeah,” Integrity admitted grudgingly. “I guess I wouldn't like having to smell blood all the time, just so he could eat.” She chuckled grimly. “Plus, I suppose his entourage would include Jydda. I definitely don't want to share quality time with that woman.”

  “Now you're getting it,” Paul said, nodding. “Even if he did everything he could to be agreeable, stayed in his area, kept quiet, you'd still know he was there all the time. You wouldn't be able to move freely, to do what you wanted to, for fear he'd hear or see. Now, imagine that he started shifting stuff around.”

  “Hey! That's not fair. My room was completely open. I'm not moving furniture in his area.”

  “Granted. But let's say that Evan's area was by the fireplace in your room. Let's say he moved one of the chairs right in front of the fireplace. Every time you looked at it, you'd grit your teeth. You'd want to move it back. And not because the placement itself bothered you, but because he did it.”

  Integrity grunted, folding her arms across her chest, and sat back in her chair petulantly. “Oh, yeah?” She knew it was a pathetic argument, but she also knew that Paul knew he was right. She frowned and looked at the wood grain pattern on the table top.

  “Even if there were a wall between you and that chair,” he said, his voice lower now, almost apologetic, “you'd know that chair was there, and it would drive you nuts. You'd think about it constantly. You'd get angrier and angrier. It's your room, after all. What right does he have to change things? He invaded your space--”

  Integrity cut him off. “So, what? You think I should put the bed back together?”

  “No, I don't.” Paul gave her a half smile. “It's not your fault you're here, and Evan needs to accept that you're likely to be here for a while yet. You have the right to make yourself more comfortable, within reason. That doesn't mean you can kill him.”

  Integrity laughed, feeling like she might start crying from frustration. “So, what are you trying to say?”

  Paul shrugged, pushing himself away from the table. “Nothing. Just talking to hear the sound of my own voice. I'm egotistical that way.” He gave her a full smile this time, comfortable in his own self mockery, then moved from the room, Kellin following close behind him. He shut the door softly after the dog had left the room. Integrity's mouth felt dry and fuzzy.

  Є

  Glegnar burst through the main door before Integrity had a chance to hide. She dropped the book she was holding and rose hastily to her feet. Glegnar's foul gaze locked on her, a malicious sneer crooking his mouth.

  “Run!” Paul had shouted. She knew Paul was off to her right, but she did not take the time to glance at him. Spinning around, she raced for her bedroom, not knowing where else to go.

  She heard the sounds of a scuffle behind her, but dared not look back for fear she would trip. She raced into her room and slammed the door, pressing her back against it as her pulse thudded painfully in her throat. She strained her ears.

  Wham.

  The door shook underneath her back. She could hear Glegnar, his voice easily recognizable as he muttered obscenities and slammed his considerable bulk against her door again.

  Wham.

  Frantic, she glanced around the room for something to use as a weapon. She knew she didn't have time to leave the door to get anything, but she looked, anyway.

  Wham.

  This time, the sound of splintering wood accompanied the impact, and she found herself face down on the carpet, her knees and the heel of her right hand burning under the impact inflicted on them. Shoving the pain aside, she scrambled forward, knowing that Glegnar would soon be on her. She staggered to her feet and turned to meet her attacker.

  Greasy hair falling in clumped strands in front of his face, skin dotted with perspiration, the man smiled at her in triumph. “Well, little one, we meet again at last.” The familiar smell of his fetid breath wafted across the room and circled her cloyingly. She gagged. She took a step back, knowing there was nowhere to go.

  He took a step toward her, his breath wheezing between his lips. “Have you been enjoying yourself? Living like a princess?” He spat on the carpet, and Integrity cringed. Unexpectedly, the man lunged at her.

  Integrity jerked upright, panting. It only took a moment for her to realize she had been dreaming, but that didn't stop her ears from buzzing or her heart from beating erratically. Next to her, Kellin groaned at the disturbance and threw one paw in her direction. She caught it instinctively, knowing if she didn't hold it, he'd just keep flailing at her. She'd been hit in the face enough times to have learned that lesson well.

  She rubbed at her eyes, colors exploding into the inky darkness, and took a deep breath. Her mouth uncomfortably dry, Integrity threw herself clumsily across Kellin and stood, moving to the bathroom for a drink of water. She flicked on the light and winced at the sudden brightness. Barely opening her eyes, she turned on the tap, caught some water in her cupped hands, and brought them to her mouth, then rubbed her damp fingers across her closed eyes.

  Not quite ready to turn the light off, she staggered back out into her room. She caught a form out of the corner of her eye and jumped, clapping a hand to her mouth before she realized Evan sat at her table, not Glegnar. She let her breath out in a whoosh, suddenly exhausted, and sank into the chair across from him. “What are you doing here?” she asked wearily. “Giving me nightmares?”

  “Most women don't call it a nightmare when they dream of me,” he replied smoothly, remaining completely still, his face cast into shadow.

  “Ha, ha,” she replied dryly. “Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't dreaming about you, good or bad.”

  “Who, then?”

  Integrity pulled her feet up onto the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs in an effort to gain warmth. “Glegnar.”

  “Ah.”

  The silence stretched, Integrity growing increasingly awake, and increasingly calm. The dream seemed foolish now. Glegnar would not be able to find her here and, if by some miracle he did, Paul would not allow him to touch her. She'd seen Paul in action—he was no slouch. The chances of the portly Glegnar defeating him were slim to none.

  As her breathing and pulse rate returned to normal, Integrity's thoughts strayed to the bed that lay on the floor, the bed that had caused such discord that she had not dared to leave her room in more than a week. Paul's analogy had haunted her like a torn muscle that pained her at unexpected moments, and she had felt increasingly guilty for her actions. Yes, the bed needed to be on the floor, but she hadn't needed to be a brat about it. Taking advantage of the false protection the gloom gave her, she steeled herself.

  “Actually, I'm glad you're here,” she said, breaking the tenuous silence.

  “Oh?”

  He's awfully good with one-syllable answers that give nothing away, she thought bitterly to herself, then pushed the ugly feeling aside. She had been given an opportunity to make amends, and she knew it would only be harder to seek him out and accomplish her task. She swallowed, but Evan spoke again before she could.

  “So the reality is better than the dream?”

  She snorted. “Hardly.”

  “So you were dreaming of me,” he was quick to interject.

  She groaned. “No! You're twisting my words. And taking unfair advantage, I might add.”

  “How so?”

  Well, at least I forced him to two syllables. “I know you don't sleep, but we weak mortals tend to lose mental capacity when our sleep is interrupted. That's why so many drink coffee like it's water.”

  “But not you.”

  “Not me
,” she agreed, then forced herself back to the topic at hand. “Anyway, I'm glad you're here because I've been meaning to apologize.”

  “Apologize? For what?” Evan sounded completely bewildered, the first hint of emotion he had shown thus far.

  Integrity yawned expansively, suddenly tired once more. “The bed.”

  “Should I take this to mean you'll be reassembling it tomorrow?”

  Integrity felt herself stiffen, grow defensive, but she repressed it by sheer will. Just get it over with. It's not worth feeling like crap all the time over. “No,” she said, forcing her tone to remain calm, unaffected. “It really is more convenient for me to have the mattress and box springs on the floor. I'm apologizing for the way I acted.”

  Evan sat in silence. Great, she thought, frowning. Keep going.

  “It was inconsiderate of me to ignore your feelings, let alone to act like such a brat about it. This isn't my room, or my property, and I should have had the decency to consult you first.”

  “I wouldn't have given you permission,” he stated simply.

  “Regardless,” she said, forcing out the word.

  Silence reigned once more, but Integrity could come up with nothing more to say without repeating herself foolishly. After a moment, Evan said, “This really bothers you, doesn't it?”

  “What?” Integrity asked, wondering if he meant when he watched her sleep.

  “Feeling like you did something wrong. This whole...conscience thing.”

  Integrity clenched her jaw for a moment before speaking. “Another 'weak mortal' nuisance. It must not be an issue for people that deal in death on a frequent basis.” She bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could take the words back. This is a flipping awesome apology, she grumbled to herself. What next? You gonna insult his mother?