Night's Honor (A Novel of the Elder Races Book 7)

by Thea Harrison

  Frustration made him grit his teeth. He didn’t want Justine anywhere near his property. Not only had he just taken on an unschooled attendant, but he also had five trainees whose names and faces were virtually unknown, and he meant to keep their identities hidden. Also, for every good word he might try to put in with Melisande about dealing with Julian, Justine would be whispering poison in her other ear.

  “I don’t recommend that,” he said to Justine. “A visit to my home might not be good for your health.”

  “But why ever not?” Justine opened her eyes wide, while Melisande tilted her head, her expression sharpening.

  While Melisande wasn’t stupid, she also didn’t understand the full scope of the tensions within the Nightkind demesne at the moment, and now wasn’t the time to enlighten her. Staring at Justine, he waited the merest heartbeat to let his threat sink in.

  Then he smiled and said, “I don’t have a total house shutdown at sunrise, and I know many Vampyres have a problem with that.”

  A look of revulsion flickered over Justine’s perfect features. “Don’t tell me you have one of those revolving systems.”

  “I do, indeed.”

  Melisande said, “Justine, please don’t feel obligated to come if it’s going to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Nonsense,” said Justine. Her gaze met Xavier’s with a clash that was almost audible. “Pass up the chance to see inside our reclusive Xavier’s private retreat? I wouldn’t miss this opportunity for the world.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t,” said Xavier grimly.

  Both Melisande and Justine left to make last-minute arrangements. Xavier texted Raoul as he waited.

  Prepare for houseguests until sundown tomorrow. All trainees need to stay in total seclusion.

  Raoul responded almost immediately. Who’s coming?

  Melisande and Justine. Trade negotiations with the Light Fae have been suspended for the night. You have a half hour to get ready.

  A pause.

  Then Raoul texted back: Bloody hell.

  • • •

  By the time Tess had unpacked her suitcases and set them on the floor of the closet, a knock sounded at her door and she went to answer it.

  Outside in the hall, a short man stood holding a dinner tray. He had an intense gaze and appeared to be in his sixties. According to his looks, he could be older than Raoul, but of course that would depend on how old he had been when he had become Xavier’s attendant.

  He gave her a nod. “I’m Jordan. I do the cooking. Raoul asked me to bring you a supper tray.”

  “Hi, I’m Tess.” She took the tray, staring at the food. The main dish was covered, but the side plates weren’t. One plate contained a green salad with a variety of different colored beets and a simple olive oil dressing. The other small plate held a slice of carrot cake. There was also a small green bottle of Perrier, another small, unopened individual bottle of wine, and silverware wrapped in a linen napkin. The scent of roast chicken coming from the covered dish made her mouth water. “This is fantastic. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Jordan hesitated. “We’re all night owls and tend to stay up late, so you’ll have to speak up if the music or the TV bothers you.”

  She shook her head. “Thanks for the warning, but I’m a pretty hardy sleeper.”

  Usually. When she wasn’t having nightmares of being endlessly tortured by a vengeful Djinn.

  “I’ll let the others know. Bon appetit.”

  As he left, she pushed the door shut with one foot, carried the tray to the bed and removed the lid from the main plate to reveal succulent slices of moist roast chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy and dressing. Real, homemade food.

  She dove in and didn’t come up for air until all of it was gone.

  As the nutrition hit her system, it gave her a burst of energy and the fog cleared from her mind. Gathering up the tray, she took it downstairs to the large, well-appointed kitchen, washed her dishes and found the appropriate drawers and shelves for everything except for the tray itself and her used linen napkin. After some hesitation, she left those on one end of the counter.

  Then she went exploring, and ran into a large number of young men engaged in a variety of activities. Some watched TV and a few played Ping-Pong in the large family-style room in the basement.

  Still more worked on laptops, although she never got a glimpse of what was on any of their screens. To a person, they closed their laptops before she got too close.

  In fact, except for Jordan, Raoul, and an older Hispanic-looking woman with graying hair who introduced herself as the housekeeper, Angelica, all of the other attendants she met were young, fit-looking men.

  Was that strange?

  She was inclined to think that was a little strange, but then she was running short on sleep and so many other weird things had happened that day, she decided to let it go for the moment.

  After so many introductions, she didn’t remember anybody’s name except for Diego’s, mostly because Raoul had mentioned him before.

  “You’re the one who searched my car,” she said to Diego as they shook hands.

  “So I did,” he said. He was a handsome man who appeared to be in his thirties, but then she wasn’t sure about anybody’s real age on the estate. His dark, restless gaze swept over her, taking in her appearance. “Are you settling in all right?”

  “Yes, thanks. Jordan brought me a supper tray with the most amazing carrot cake for dessert.”

  He nodded. “Jordan’s a great cook. And don’t worry about the dessert. You’ll be working off the calories soon enough.”

  It was her turn to glance down his lean, muscled body. He looked like an athlete in the peak of condition. While a regular blood offering to Xavier would give him a lot of enhancement, she bet those bicep guns and washboard abs came from good old-fashioned, hard training.

  “Looking forward to it,” she said. “Hey, it is okay if I walk around outside?”

  “Sure it is, chica. Use the gym, swim in the pool, walk the beach. You’re home now. Just don’t help yourself to Xavier’s wine cellar without permission.” His gaze went back to his closed laptop.

  Taking the hint, she backed away. “Okay, thanks.”

  She went upstairs, grabbed her jacket and slipped out the front door. The lawn was wet and the breeze felt damp on her face, even though the night sky had turned clear with just a thin film of cloud on the horizon. A moment later, an underground sprinkler system kicked on, and she smiled. Lawns that were this beautiful took some upkeep.

  Exploring the gym could wait until daylight. Keeping to the paths, she made her way to the edge of the oceanside bluff. A wide, simple set of stairs had been carved into the rock. With a sense of incredulity and pleasure, she descended to the beach.

  The ocean was a vast dark blue, lightly touched with ripples of silver, while the beach was a deep, shadowy ocher. She felt the urge to pinch herself. The scene was too idyllic. There had to be a catch.

  Well, of course there was a catch.

  It was an idyllic scene, with Vampyres. Or at least one courteous, yet quite autocratic Vampyre.

  Tucking in her chin and wrapping her jacket close, she strolled down the beach and let the stress of the day melt away.

  A shout came from some distance, and she turned to look behind her. A man stood at the top of the bluff. As she watched, he leaped down the stairs and raced toward her.

  It was Raoul. When he came near, she said defensively, “Did I do something wrong? Diego said I could walk the beach.”

  “Usually, you can, but not tonight.” Raoul’s voice was grim. “Get back to the house now. Run.”

  Her heart kicked. Man, her adrenal system had been overworked for days now. Jogging along the sand while he kept pace beside her, she panted, “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re getting company.
”

  He didn’t say anything else until they reached the attendants’ house. When she turned to ask him questions, he opened the door, put a hand to her back and propelled her inside.

  She went without resisting. After experiencing his calm, unflappable behavior earlier, his attitude now seriously scared her.

  The other attendants had gathered in the large living room, some sitting and others standing. It was the first time she had seen all eleven together. Everyone watched Raoul, expressions tense.

  Without preamble, he said, “The council has broken off for the night. Melisande is coming to stay here until tomorrow evening, and Justine is coming with her.”

  While Tess didn’t recognize either name, she watched a ripple of reaction pass through the others.

  Diego said sharply, “Justine. She’s coming here?”

  “Correct.” Raoul turned to Jordan. “Justine usually travels with two attendants, and Melisande will have a couple of bodyguards with her, which means you’ll be preparing food for at least five people.” He said to everyone else, “Only senior staff is allowed outside this house until they leave. Tess, the senior staff is Diego, Jordan and his assistant Peter, Angelica and her assistant Enrique, and myself.”

  “I’ll get weapons,” Diego said.

  Weapons? Tess tilted her head. For houseguests?

  Another of the young men—Marc, she thought his name was—said, “I’ll help.”

  “Hurry,” Raoul said.

  The two raced out the door.

  Raoul turned to Tess. “I know you don’t understand what’s going on, but you don’t have to understand to follow orders.”

  “Someone dangerous is coming,” she said dryly. “I got that much.”

  “Yes. Melisande is the Light Fae heir. She’s being accompanied by a very old Vampyre who sits on the Nightkind council. Be clear about this—Justine is an enemy. The only reason why Xavier would allow her on the property is because he wouldn’t have had any other choice.”

  She gave him a jerky nod. “Got it.”

  “The rest of you, go over the protocol with Tess.” He strode out, and Angelica, Jordan and two others followed him.

  Slowly Tess eased out of her jacket while she eyed the others who were left. Aside from her, there were four young men. The door opened, and Marc came inside, carrying several handguns that he passed out to the others.

  She raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t bring a handgun for me?”

  He looked at her. “Do you know how to shoot?”

  Her mouth tightened. “No, but I can learn fast when I have enough incentive.”

  He shook his head. “Raoul didn’t say anything about arming an untried, unknown trainee who could be a danger to herself and others. If you’ve never fired a gun before, you’re not getting one from me. Besides, this is all just a precaution.”

  She ground her teeth a moment before she replied, “It looks like a pretty serious precaution to me.”

  “Of course it is. Justine has never been here before, and she’s dangerous, but trust me, Xavier is too. She’ll have two attendants, but we have twelve people, all of whom know how to handle themselves, except for you. Plus the Light Fae princess will be here, along with her attendants and bodyguards. It would be very foolish for Justine or any of her people to get violent. In fact, it would be tantamount to a public declaration of civil war. Frankly, the greatest risk is for her to try to mesmerize one of us and pump us for information.”

  Tapping a foot, she thought through what Marc had said. He sounded intelligent and remarkably educated, and he’d certainly delivered a good, concise overview of the situation, but something didn’t add up.

  If everyone—except her—knew how to handle themselves, why did they all have to stay hidden behind closed windows and doors? If they were using this as a rationale, shouldn’t she be the only one who needed to be cloistered?

  But she didn’t want to question Marc too closely, or come across as too challenging. He wasn’t in charge and he hadn’t created the rules. He was only telling her what he was supposed to, and she didn’t want to start an argument on her first night.

  “Fine,” she said. “Raoul said you guys would go over protocol with me.”

  “It’s simple,” Marc told her. “It’s standard protocol for everyone to be armed when a hostile entity is on the property. When you’re trained and this comes up again, you’ll be armed too. Raoul said senior staff will handle this, so we stay in, lock up the house, and we don’t invite anybody in. No Vampyres, and no visiting humans. Nobody gets inside. We close all the window coverings, and we keep them shut—day and night—until we’re told we can open them again. Aside from that, we sit tight and relax.”

  “Relax,” she said.

  “There’s nothing else for us to do.” He shrugged. “It’s a situation. It’s being handled by people who know what they’re doing.”

  While they had been talking, one of the other men—Tess couldn’t remember his name, Scott or Brian—had been keeping watch out the front window.

  He said, “They’re here.” Tess joined the others as they peered out. Three gleaming vehicles, all of them black, pulled into the parking lot, and several people climbed out.

  Xavier was immediately apparent, with his slim figure and erect carriage. He walked toward the second vehicle as a tall, striking blonde woman climbed out along with two other Light Fae. The woman was dressed in a dark-colored, elegantly cut suit, while her silvery high heels caught the light and sparkled.

  Recognition struck. Tess felt like reality took a sharp skid sideways, sending her hurtling into a dream. She murmured faintly, “Is that Melisande Aindris, the actress? Didn’t she star in that zombie movie They Ate New York?”

  Marc glanced at her. “Yes. Her mother, the Light Fae Queen, owns Northern Lights Studios.”

  “I knew that,” she muttered. “I just forgot.”

  Three more figures emerged from the third vehicle. Tess recognized one of them as well, the beautiful redhead who had kept her female attendant on a leash at the Vampyre’s Ball.

  “And there’s Justine,” said Marc.

  The redheaded woman spun in a slow circle, looking around the property. As she turned toward the attendants’ house, Marc snapped the blinds closed.

  “Show’s over. The blinds and curtains stay shut now, until we get the all clear.” Marc looked at Tess. “You know, you might as well go to bed. As far as we’re concerned, nothing else is going to happen tonight.”

  Bristling at the thought of being sent to bed like a child, Tess lingered downstairs for close to an hour, but the others settled down to watch TV or open their laptops again. The only difference from earlier was that they did so with weapons close to hand.

  Eventually inactivity allowed for exhaustion to creep back in. It weighed down her limbs and eyelids, until she muttered a good night to the others and went up to her room.

  Troubled, she put on a nightshirt that came to the top of her thighs, brushed her teeth, poured a glass of water and climbed into bed.

  All of her instincts felt askew.

  Who was the monster now? Justine, Xavier, or both?

  Certainly they were both old, dangerous and incomprehensible to her, but while they might be enemies, that didn’t make one of them good and the other one evil. It was possible, even likely, that they were simply two different kinds of evil.

  While she tried to puzzle it out, a black tide crept over her and washed it all away, and for a few hours she forgot all her fears and uncertainties.

  Then her nightmares returned. First one of her foster fathers, the one who had loved to swing his belt, chased her around a huge, shadowy house. Then Malphas appeared to greet her with an angelic smile.

  “Tess.” He strolled toward her. “You know how this story ends.”

  “No,” she said.

&n
bsp; “Oh, yes.”

  She tried to run, but her feet sank into a deep mud, and then he caught her and set her world on fire.

  SIX

  Drenched in sweat, she plunged awake, surrounded by darkness in a strange room.

  No. Her chest heaved. Malphas couldn’t have caught her so soon.

  As she looked around wildly, reality asserted itself. The red illuminated numbers on the bedside clock read 3:16 A.M. She was in her new room at Xavier’s estate, her sheets damp with sweat. The room felt airless and hot as an oven.

  Kicking off the covers, she climbed out of bed and felt for one of the vents close to the floor. Hot air blew out of it. She was going to cook if she didn’t get the heat turned down.

  She slipped on her robe, left the room and searched for a thermostat. Lights shone from another part of the house. Very dimly, she could hear sound, perhaps music, either coming from another area in the house or perhaps from one of the other buildings, while the area around her bedroom was shadowed and quiet.

  When she found the thermostat, the temperature had been set for seventy-two degrees, which was far too hot for her at night. After only a brief hesitation, she thumbed it down to sixty-five then reluctantly went back to her small, closed-in room.

  She didn’t have to stay in the bedroom. No doubt the basement would be much cooler, but she knew if she went downstairs, she would run into someone again. She was tired of dealing with so many strangers and all the odd tensions from the day and evening, and she needed privacy badly.

  Reluctantly, she closed the door, but that made the heat even worse.

  Now that she was fully awake, she could hear the sounds more clearly. Music played from the direction of the main house. She walked over to the small sink to splash cold water on her face and arms as she fought an almost overwhelming desire to peek through her curtains.

  That was against The Protocol.

  But why was that The Protocol? Was it to keep hostile Vampyres from mesmerizing anyone inside the attendants’ house? If so, why couldn’t they open the windows and doors at daybreak, when all the Vampyres would be cloistered from the sun?