Silver Dagger

by T. L. Sinclare

  "What?" Stephen snapped.

  "My best guess is it's you."

  Stephen's lips curled back in an involuntary snarl. Emotions hummed through his body—frustration, anger, desire. He'd spent days denying himself what he wanted most. The feelings wanted some release.

  "Gentlemen…" Gayle appeared and placed himself between them. "No trouble. You both promised."

  "And I don't know why you'd trust him. He's been waiting two hundred years for this," Matthias sneered.

  With a few notable exceptions, Stephen had done his best to avoid Matthias in those two hundred years. Matthias, after all, had good reason to hate him.

  But tonight, he wasn't willing to play Matthias' games.

  "Matthias, if I were going to start killing vampires, don't you think I would have started with you?"

  A flash of white from Matthias' fangs and the glowing orbs of his eyes illuminated the dark corner. The blackness moved as Matthias stood. Stephen bared his teeth, one predator responding to the threat of another.

  "Boys." Gayle's singsong voice pierced the tension. "As intriguing as it is to see this macho display of power, you're starting to scare the humans, and that's bad for business."

  Neither vampire reacted to Gayle's comment. Stephen took a step toward Matthias' corner. Gayle's body blocked his next step.

  "Why are you here?" Gayle asked.

  "Is that any way to greet a friend?" Stephen didn't look at Gayle. He kept his focus on Matthias.

  "I love you dearly, you know that, but you make people nervous."

  "Good."

  "Stephen—"

  The warning in Gayle's voice was strange, tense. Unusual enough that Stephen took his eyes off Matthias and stared at his friend.

  "Not tonight," Gayle whispered. There was a plea behind his command.

  "Why not tonight?" The question seemed to throw Gayle off kilter. Stephen raised his eyebrows and waited. "What's so special?"

  "You can't afford the press."

  "Why?" It was true he'd never been a favorite, but there had always lingered enough sympathy among the Community to allow him some security.

  "Rumors are they found another one."

  Stephen straightened. "What? No—" It wasn't possible.

  "It's just rumor, but the Community's tense. Dylan's been talking, reminding everyone about your past. You're everyone's favorite suspect tonight. And then with your pet…"

  "She's not a pet."

  "It doesn't matter what you call her. The Council wants her gone, and you're protecting her." Gayle glanced around the room. Stephen didn't look back, but he could feel the eyes on them. "You won't find a lot of friends here tonight."

  "That's nothing unusual."

  "I think you have more friends on a regular basis than you think."

  "But not tonight."

  "No. Can I encourage you to leave?"

  "I need to talk to you first."

  For a moment, Gayle looked as if he would refuse, but then he nodded. "I've got to go pull Mitch off that sweet young thing and come right back. Want to wait by the bar?" He moved in that direction, trying to herd Stephen with his body. Stephen stepped to the side. He was prepared to keep the peace for Gayle's sake, but he wasn't going to walk away. Not with Matthias staring daggers at his back.

  "I'll wait here."

  Gayle flashed him a look of warning before he left.

  Stephen turned and faced Matthias. He was easily twice Stephen's age, though he looked no older. Two hundred years had made them familiar with each other. Know thy enemy. Stephen almost smiled. Matthias had no idea what he was facing.

  Then it hit him. There was something different about Matthias tonight. Stephen stared blatantly into the dark, trying to find it. Hatred marred the arrogant face that looked back at him, but that was nothing new. It was something else. A kind of smug confidence glowed behind Matthias' eyes. As if he had a secret. Or he knew one.

  "Well, I guess I'll go." Matthias strolled out of the darkness, walking toward Stephen. "I don't much care for the clientele this place attracts." Stephen refused to react to the childish taunt. He stepped back, giving Matthias room to pass by. Still, Matthias stopped in front of him. "It's time, you know."

  "What?" Stephen wasn't interested in cryptic riddles.

  "It's time. I've waited over two hundred years for just the right moment." His eyes flared as he looked at Stephen. "And just the right woman. She'll do nicely."

  Fear and fury enveloped Stephen. He bared his teeth and grabbed for Matthias, but the older vampire was gone, his body disappearing in a puff of smoke. Stephen stood in the place Matthias had occupied and stared unseeing at the club.

  Matthias knew about Madeleine. She wasn't safe.

  He had often wondered when Matthias would come for him. Matthias had made it clear he hadn't given up his desire for revenge. And he was right. Madeleine would be perfect.

  "Damn," he whispered in the noise of the bar. Had this been the plan all along? Was Madeleine part of an elaborate revenge plot? It seemed impossible—improbable. But Matthias had had two hundred years to plan.

  "Sorry, I had to make sure Mitch didn't forget the new rules," Gayle said, brushing his long blond hair away from his face.

  "New rules?"

  "Yes, the cops were getting irritating, so from now on, no dead bodies in the club." He winked. "Except for the ones walking around. So, how can I help?"

  Stephen considered asking Gayle about Matthias but decided against it. If Matthias was involved, he would be a dangerous enemy, and Stephen didn't want to burden Gayle with that. And the truth was, he didn't know if Gayle might be involved already. There were too many variables. Trust had never come easy. Now, with so many questions, it was almost nonexistent.

  What would Gayle do with the information Stephen would give him tonight? Could he trust him? He had no choice. He needed a vampire's knowledge.

  "Have you ever known of a vampire who could receive a human's thoughts?" The noise of the club served as an excellent buffer for their voices, so Stephen wasn't worried about being overheard. Matthias had marked this corner of the club as his. Most patrons knew enough to stay out of the area. Stephen looked out across the nightclub. It was easy to see why Matthias liked this corner. It provided an excellent view of the whole room. He could see who was trying to listen.

  "You mean read minds?"

  "No, just have thoughts transmitted. Like you would send your thoughts to a human."

  Gayle thought about it for a moment. "No. Is—"

  Thomass, with Dylan in tow, started toward them. Stephen looked at Gayle and shook his head to warn the other vampire. All tension left Gayle's body, and he lounged against the solid wood table. Stephen took his cue from his friend and leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. They were the picture of casual, private conversation. That didn't stop Thomass from interrupting.

  "Stephen."

  Stephen didn't have to fake the irritation at Thomass' concerned greeting. Gayle twirled one strand of blond hair around his finger, pointedly ignoring Thomass' approach.

  "Is it wise for you to be here?" Thomass asked, his voice low and secretive.

  "Why shouldn't I be here?" Stephen returned the question with as much innocence as he could fake.

  "Well, with all the rumors…" Thomass let his voice trail away.

  "I'm not concerned." Seeing Thomass and Dylan together, Stephen realized they were quite alike—they even looked alike. It gave Stephen some insight into why Joshua might have converted Dylan—he was just like Thomass. He needed a few more years to perfect the smooth facade, but Stephen had no doubt that's what the fledgling would do. Just what the vampire world needs—another Thomass. "No one really takes those things seriously. It's just gossip." Stephen drilled his gaze into Dylan and had the satisfaction of seeing the young man retreat one step behind his mentor.

  "How dare you?" Gayle flipped his hair over his shoulder. "Gossip is my lifeblood."

  Thomass' u
pper lip curled up in disgust as he watched Gayle, and Stephen found a reason to smile for the first time tonight.

  "Yes, well, I never listen to it myself," Thomass said. "I just wanted to check on the situation. The Council meets tomorrow night. They'll want an update."

  "It's fine."

  "It can't be that fine." Gayle and Stephen turned in unison to face the sneering fledgling. Dylan's eyes grew wide as they focused their glares on him.

  "What do you mean?" Thomass asked.

  Dylan straightened. "Madeleine's still alive," he said confidently. That confidence vanished as Stephen shot his arm out and snagged the young vampire by the throat, choking off his words.

  "How would you know Madeleine's current condition?" He dragged Dylan forward, his fingers squeezing tighter. The young vampire's eyes bulged as Stephen pulled up, raising Dylan to his toes.

  "Stephen, let him go."

  "No, Thomass. I want to know when he saw Madeleine. And why?"

  "It's nothing to get upset about. I sent him to watch her." Thomass' voice returned to its standard, conciliatory tone. "The Council wants her dead. The whole Community knows about her and your strange fascination with her."

  Stephen thought about protesting but realized it would be worthless. And a lie.

  "I thought if I set someone to watching her, we could prove she wasn't involved," Thomass went on. "I should have said something. I'm sorry. I trust your instincts, but you have to understand, Robertson is pushing the Council."

  They were the right words, but Stephen found no comfort in them. Matthias' involvement had changed everything.

  Thomass stepped closer, his words for Stephen alone. "Robertson almost has them convinced that you and Madeleine are working together. I was able to pull them back tonight, but I don't know how long that will last." His voice dropped even farther. "Another vampire is missing and they've sent to Europe for information on your father's daggers. They're doing research into silver daggers and you know what they'll find when they do."

  Stephen kept his face impassive. Thomass couldn't know. Stephen opened his fist, and Dylan dropped to the floor, clutching his throat. Deep red bruises in the shape of Stephen's hand were already forming on Dylan's pale skin.

  "Keep out of my way, Thomass. Tell the Council to do the same. Madeleine's mine." As he said the words, he realized they were true. Madeleine belonged to him.

  He stepped over Dylan's body. Gayle did the same and followed Stephen outside.

  Once in the distant corner of the parking lot, Stephen rolled his shoulders, trying to free some of the strain. It wasn't helping. His body was wound too tight for any minor easing. He needed release—he needed Madeleine. Mine. He'd never felt possessive about a human before. He used them and let them go—taking only what he needed and sometimes a little sex. But not Madeleine. The craving for her blood was strong, almost overpowering at times, but it was more than that, and he wanted more than a little sex from her.

  "So, ignoring what just happened," Gayle began, pointing one elegant finger toward the nightclub, "and I'm not really sure what just happened—go back to this thing about you receiving a human's thoughts?"

  Stephen quickly told Gayle about the strange dream Madeleine had transmitted to him. He didn't go into the details—just that there was a dream. He finished and waited for Gayle's response. For once, his friend was silent. Finally, he smiled.

  "I have got to meet this woman."

  "Gayle…"

  "Really. Bring her by before you kill her. She's tormenting you in the most wonderful fashion. Is it intentional, do you think? Or is it just blind, human luck?"

  "Somehow I doubt she finds knowing me to be all that lucky."

  Gayle shook his head, the light of laughter flashing in his eyes. "The sex must be incredible for you to be going through all this."

  Stephen grimaced before he thought to hide the reaction.

  "Do you mean you haven't even…"

  "No."

  "Why not?" Gayle sounded truly offended at the idea.

  Because she'd settle herself into my heart. "It didn't seem right," was all he said.

  "I see. Don't want to sleep with her and then kill her. I guess I can understand that. But I'd definitely say sleep with her. You'll be a lot less cranky, and we'll all be a lot happier."

  "Gayle…"

  Sometimes he forgot exactly why he considered Gayle a friend. He could be damned annoying when he tried. And he was trying tonight.

  "And if you don't want to kill her afterward, let someone else do it. I'll do it if you're squeamish."

  Stephen's eyeteeth extended and he growled in Gayle's direction. "You'll stay the hell away from her."

  Gayle wasn't intimidated. He laughed. "Oh, you have it bad. This is just too wonderful. Bring her by."

  Without answering, Stephen turned on his heel and walked away, Gayle's laughter following him across the parking lot. The pressure built as the sun began inching toward the horizon. It was time to be home. He welcomed the need to sleep and a day's existence without thoughts and dreams.

  He stepped inside and walked down the short hallway to the great room, his mind on Madeleine. And Gayle's words—you have it bad.

  He turned into his living room and stopped. Something wasn't right. A presence. Gone, but something lingered. He sniffed the air. A scent? Familiar but too vague to identify.

  He knew the sights and smells of his house. Someone had entered his home. He wandered through the living room. Nothing triggered. It was familiar. He should recognize it, but somehow he didn't.

  He glared into the darkness. Too many questions, too many possibilities. He needed to start eliminating problems.

  And his first one was upstairs.

  Those damn knives. The safe they were kept in was lined to block any vibration from the silver. But someone knew about the knives. How long before that was made public? He should get rid of them. Or at the very least move them.

  Instead, he turned and headed downstairs to his vault. The knives were safe at least for one more day. The scent, the presence he'd felt wasn't human. No vampire could touch those knives. Unless…

  He closed the heavy door of the vault, engaging the security lock that he usually left undone. He'd relied on Cassandra and Nicholas to stop any casual visitor from wandering in. But Cassandra was gone. Nicholas was watching Madeleine. And Stephen was trusting no one.

  The pull of the sleep was heavy upon him, and he crawled into his coffin. He struggled against the dawn, stretching the limits, enduring the pain to see it through the sunrise. He knew the precise moment when the sun rose. His blood sang with agony. Stephen fought the need to sleep, pushing the pain away with the thought of his knives and dead vampires.

  The killing wasn't over.

  There were fifteen members on the Council. Stephen had ten knives. The question wasn't who would die, but who would be left alive?

  Chapter Nine

  "He'll stake me."

  Madeleine felt some sympathy for the wide-eyed and pleading young man in front of her—but not enough to stop her.

  "Don't worry, Nick. Stephen will know it wasn't your fault."

  She'd waited all last night, and Stephen hadn't come to her. So she was going to him.

  Nick looked into her determined eyes for a long moment before he sighed. "Fine, but if I get nailed to the wall…"

  He left the threat hanging. Madeleine smiled at his back as she followed him outside. He was too young, too sweet, to come up with a credible threat anyway. He led her one block away from her office and stopped beside a black sedan.

  She looked at the car, then up at Nick.

  "Stephen won't let you drive the Jag, huh?"

  "No."

  She tried not to smile as he pouted. She couldn't really blame him. The sedan was nice, but it wasn't a Jaguar. She climbed into the front seat and stared out the window as Nick drove through town. The world blurred before her.

  She'd waited for him all night. Anger turned to i
rritation when she thought about it—irritation at herself mainly. She'd let the last week and all its strange events happen to her. Well, now she was going to make something happen.

  She'd mulled over Dylan's strange warning. Her mind still didn't know what to believe. She knew Stephen was dangerous, but she couldn't imagine him killing another vampire. She hadn't let herself dwell too long on the theory that he'd killed Danielle. Thinking about it wouldn't change the truth, and that's what she was seeking tonight—the truth. Stephen couldn't walk out on her if she was in his house. At least that was the idea.

  The sun was at the horizon, ready to plunge the city into darkness, when Nick pulled up in front of Stephen's house. Rain clouds had hovered all day, waiting, she supposed, for the night. She shivered as she climbed out of the car. Nothing like going to a vampire's house on a dark and stormy night.

  The house was silent as they walked in, the normal sounds missing.

  "Is Cassandra going to pop out of somewhere and offer me tea?" she asked with a smile, wanting to fill the oppressive silence.

  "She's gone. Stephen will wake soon. He'll know you're here."

  With no farewell, he stalked up the steps, leaving Madeleine alone in the living room. He obviously didn't want to be around when Stephen arrived. She couldn't blame him. Stephen wouldn't be thrilled to find her there.

  She wandered alone through the living room. Now that she knew him better, she saw it fit Stephen perfectly—neat, elegant, suitable for conversation, and filled with books. The coffee table had been tidied recently. All the magazines neatly stacked. Just like before.

  Where is Cassandra?

  Icy fingers raced up her spine, and she shuddered. People had a way of disappearing around Stephen. It made Dylan's warning a little too real.

  She sat down on the chaise lounge and picked up a magazine, hoping to look calm and serene when Stephen walked in. The second book down was one of the vampire comics she'd seen before. Too tempted to ignore it, she started to read.

  Rain poured down on a woman standing at the door to a dark castle. The light from a window illuminated a tiny corner of the page, a man's shadow etched in the glass.