“My whiskers have been clean for months now.” He winked at the man. “But I will keep in mind where I can find some if I ever fall off the wagon.”
His answer, though not loud, helped relax the atmosphere in the bar. A mug of tea appeared in front of him and he winced.
“Strawberry? Really?”
The bartender grinned wider. Shawn took his wallet out and slid a fifty-euro bill over.
“What is a pretty cat like yourself doing in a place like this?”
“I’m looking for a coven.”
“You’re into monks? That’s just wrong.”
“Vampire coven. Maybe one that registered some commotion lately?”
“Mind telling me what this is about?”
“They have my mate.”
“Cats don’t mate.”
Shawn ignored the man’s sneer and offered the simplest response he could find. “I did.”
The bartender’s eyes flew to his neck and he quirked an eyebrow in question at the absence of the mating mark. Shawn pulled at his collar to expose the small puncture scars.
“He’s a vampire,” he said a little defensively.
“Who’s a vampire?” If the bartender grinned any wider, the corners of his lips would have reached his ears.
Patience, Shawn, patience. It’s a virtue. Remember that.
“My mate,” Shawn gritted out. He could stand being laughed at, but his mate was off-limits.
“So your mate is a man and a vampire?” He’d raised his voice enough to make sure everybody in the bar heard him.
“Lucky me.” He could feel all the eyes in the place trained on him once again. A jaguar could win against a lone wolf in the wild, but not against a whole pack.
“And you want our help? Why would we help you?”
“I just want to know where to find him. Nothing more. I wouldn’t ask any of you to stand by me.”
“Now you’re refusing our help?”
“I wasn’t aware you were offering.”
Patrons shifted behind him and a cute, young blonde took the seat next to him. A tall glass of lemonade appeared swiftly in front of her.
“Hi.” Even her voice was sweet. “Don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here.”
“Hi. Yeah. Thanks.” Shawn turned back to the bartender. “Listen. Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“That’s because I haven’t given it to you. I’m Tommy.”
That cracked Shawn up. And gave him the chance to even things up. “A wolf named Tommy. That is just too good to be true.”
The man behind the counter growled at him.
“So it’s okay for you to make fun of me, but I can’t say anything about you?”
“That’s pretty much it.”
“In that case I promise to do it again. Often.”
The girl next to him chortled. “He got you there, Tommy.”
“Can you tell me if my mate is around here, or not?”
Tommy glanced at the girl, who turned to Shawn. “You didn’t give us your name, stranger.”
“I’m Shawn.”
“You a stray?”
His reflex was to say no, but then remembered the way he’d parted with family. “Yes.”
His answer seemed to throw the pretty girl off-track and she stared at him for the longest minute.
“I’m Dana Zamfir.”
Shit! She was a legend, so much so that even he, in the middle of nowhere, had heard about her. She was the local alpha and had assured her position by challenging seven opponents by herself. How could he not notice whom he was talking with? How could he not feel her power burning beneath her skin? He tipped his head and exposed his throat in submission, eyes averted to the floor.
“What do you want of us, cat?”
“My mate is missing. I was wondering if you noticed an increase of activity among any of the local covens. New vampires, a wizard maybe.”
She sniffed at him. “You are not bonded.”
“No. It all happened rather fast. But bonded or not, he is my mate.”
“Fair enough. I like your honesty.” She exchanged another glance with the bartender before speaking again. “We only have one coven here. The master is Jacques De Nemours. He is old and mean. As for your mate, he might be here. I did notice some power changes in the area. Nothing major, but noticeable. And there is at least one member of the Council in residence.”
“Crap!”
“You can say that again.”
“Can you tell me where I can find them?”
“You sure about this? Getting inside a coven is no small feat. Getting out alive is even harder. Even with a full pack at my back, I’m not sure I would risk it.”
“I’m sure.”
She regarded him pensively as if to judge his determination before continuing.
“Very well. I know of a local vampire residence, but I don’t know if it’s the one you seek.”
“Will you tell me where it is?”
“It’s in an old castle up on the mountain. It’s not big, but it’s in a strategic spot, so getting in or even close will not be easy. The place is far away from any mountain trails and almost unknown but for some of the locals. They don’t get many visitors.”
“Does it have a name?”
“It used to, but it’s long forgotten. Now it’s referred to as The Castle. It doesn’t need any anyway. Not many people know of its existence. And the local master goes to great lengths to keep it that way.”
“Can you point me in the right direction? There has to be hundreds of paths leaving from here.”
“I can do one better. I can take you to the path myself. After that, you’re on your own.”
His mind screamed trap! but what would be the point? He was a lone feline in a bar full of werewolves. If she wanted him dead, there wouldn’t be a point to setting him up.
“Thank you. But why would you do that for me?”
She looked him in his eyes and smiled like she knew a secret Shawn wasn’t aware of.
“Let’s just say I like you.”
“Uhm. Thank you?”
“And because I like you I’ll tell you that the entire Council is expected for a visit tonight. They never travel light, so I’m assuming they’ll have a big delegation with them. You still want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go.”
She took out her wallet and dug for money. Shawn covered her hand with his, but when he realized what he did he jerked it back hastily. She regarded him quizzically.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to say that your drink is on me.”
“If I’d have been offended by your touch, you’d have been bleeding to death right now.”
Though her voice was sweet and soft, he didn’t doubt her one bit. He dug out a twenty-euro bill and pushed it over to Tommy. “Thank you. Keep the change.” He hurried after the pretty little blonde that could easily rip his head off with her bare hands.
Chapter 15
Raven had brought more blood, both bagged and straight from the source. The only blood he hadn’t offered was his own. Though from the scent coming off him, Valentin wouldn’t even think of going anywhere near the wizard.
He’d tried forcing information out of Valentin, but his rapidly deteriorating health put a stop to everything. Finally they had to move him from the armchair to a cot in the corner. His head kept lolling, and he was so weak he couldn’t stand up on his own. He lay there oblivious to the level of anxiety the caster was exhibiting, his pain gone and mind drifting back to Shawn. All he wanted was to get to him. To be in his arms once more. He knew now the answer to Shawn’s question. He would gladly spend an eternity with Shawn, only that wasn’t an option anymore.
* * * *
The wizard frowned at the soon-to-be-dead vampire. He didn’t know what else to do. And though the fledgling meant nothing to him, in the great scheme of the world he still had his uses. Valentin’s head rolled once mor
e on the cot and he made a retching sound, but he was too weak for his body to follow suit. There was nothing left in his stomach to puke, anyway.
He walked out to the door and motioned the guards inside. “Keep your eyes on him and call me if anything changes.”
He strolled out looking for De Nemours. After all, he was the master there and he was the only one to whom Raven owed anything.
Finding the lord was easy enough. He just had to leave his powers to wander around until they located his target.
The caster knocked at the office door and swung it open without waiting for an answer.
“I need to have a word with you.”
De Nemours’s eyes flew to the elder sitting across from him. “Can it wait?”
Raven caught his meaning and backed down.
“Of course. It was just a personal problem. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” He looked his master in the eyes, trying to convey some of his worry.
“I’ll come looking for you once I’m done here.”
Raven retreated, closing the door behind him. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t believe I worry over a no-good newborn. And I’ll be blamed if he dies, the useless piece of shit.
The vampires he passed in the hallway hastily moved out of his way, some out of respect, some out of fear, but he ignored them all. He strolled into the library, easily the biggest room in the castle, and sought his personal collection. He perused the titles, his fingers trailing over the hard spines. He found the one he was looking for and took it with him to the table. The tome was leather bound, cracked from use and old age, written in long-forgotten tongues.
That’s how De Nemours found him. Bent over the book muttering to himself, a look of complete annoyance plastered to his face.
“What’s wrong?”
Raven lifted his eyes and glared at the lord. “He is dying.”
“The fledgling?”
“Yes,” Raven snapped at the master like he was holding him personally responsible for the setback.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. And there is nothing here.” He snapped the book shut and pushed away the offending object.
“What did you do? You have to have done something.”
“How is this my fault? Nothing I did was supposed to permanently damage him, it was mostly an illusion of pain. His reactions are similar to those induced by the serum we administrated to Yuri Sergheev.”
“So it is your fault.”
“No. I never gave him any of that. He hasn’t left the cell since I brought him here, and there wasn’t any other place where he could have gotten it.”
“How much time has he left?”
“Not much.”
“Will he make it through the night?”
“Unlikely.”
“Does he know anything about the stone?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”
“So it was all for nothing?” He didn’t seem to expect an answer. “Very well. Let him die. I don’t have time to waste on him. And don’t let anyone know about him.”
The wizard shuddered one shoulder and pushed the book farther away. “As you wish.”
He watched the master leave the room and shook his head. Who could understand what was going on in the man’s head? He’d already told his master the fledgling knew nothing, and yet he stubbornly sent his team out to retrieve him, just to discard him now. Nothing more than a waste of time.
Raven glanced at the book again. He would have loved to know what was wrong with the vampire.
* * * *
Dana kept her word and led Shawn to the steps of a half-hidden trail.
“I will ask you again. You sure you want to do this?”
“He’s my mate.” And that said it all.
She regarded him pensively for a second. “In that case I wish you luck.”
“Thank you.”
“See that corner there?” She pointed to the face of the mountain where sharp edges poking from between the trees were forming a pattern regular enough that it could only be handmade. “That’s where you want to go. Remember the Council is coming tonight. Try to get out of there before their arrival.”
“I’ll give it my best.”
“If you live through the night, come and look for me. I would love to hear the story.”
She left without a second glance. Shawn’s eyes flew back at the small portion of the castle visible to him and he pursed his lips. He had to give the architect credit. If he didn’t already know there was a castle there, he might not have noticed it. The trickiest part would be to get close unnoticed. He took out the piece of cloth ripped from Valentin’s sweater and held it tight. The fabric pulsed and twitched in his hand, signaling Valentin’s presence nearby. Dana had steered him well. He would have to remember to thank her later.
He opened up to their connection, trying to feel his lover, and his knees almost gave. Valentin was sick, his life force weak, mind drifting on and off, thoughts broken and incoherent. Hold on, baby, I’m coming! Just hold on a little longer. He tried to convey his thoughts to Valentin, to give some of his own strength to his mate.
Shawn squeezed the cloth with white knuckles, nails digging into his palm, trying to give his mate some of his strength, praying he’d get there in time.
He started the difficult climb, holding onto the only link to his mate. With each step it grew stronger, and for once Shawn allowed himself to hope.
He watched the sun reaching its zenith and reveled in all the bright shades lighting up the sky. The first scent of vampire reached his nostrils just as the sun disappeared under the horizon, leaving the world at the mercy of the night. Perfect timing.
He’d made it this far. But there still was the small matter of getting inside in one piece. He couldn’t help his lover if he got himself killed. The fabric jumped in his hand, and he knew he’d found his answer. He rubbed the cloth over his exposed skin, impregnating himself with the scent of his mate. The piece of fabric was small and Valentin’s smell had faded almost completely, but the harder he rubbed the stronger the scent got.
He crept closer until he could see the outer wall, using every tree and boulder to mask his presence. There weren’t any guards in sight and he instantly became suspicious. His ears strained to pick out even the faintest sound and he sniffed the air.
He reached the wall and rested his hand against it. It was made from river rock, its color matching the mountain. Shawn ran his fingers over the surface. There was no glue or cement holding it together, each stone fitting perfectly with the others.
He moved along the wall, searching for the best spot to jump over. A twig snapped under his foot and he froze. Even his heart stopped. Steps sounded above him and someone sniffed loudly at the air.
“Damn animals.”
The steps walked away and Shawn released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. A few more meters to the side brought him to the perfect climbing spot. Some of the stones were loosened and created a crease big enough to support his foot. One powerful swing and he was on top of the wall. He leaned in, resting his entire upper body on the edge, offering the smallest target possible to keen vampire eyes in case any of them happened to glance his way. He rolled over after only a second of judging the distance to the ground and landed gracefully, like any respectable cat should, with only the faintest thump.
From the shelter of the wall he examined the area. Except for the one vampire near the entrance gate who had come to investigate earlier, there were no other guards.
A coven waiting for a visit from the Council and it has no security?
* * * *
The cell phone on Jacques De Nemours’s desk rang. Three words sounded in his ear before the line went dead. He turned toward his second-in-command, a tall man with extremely broad shoulders.
“They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
“Everything is ready. The donors are waiting and the musicians are setting up their instruments as we speak. With y
our permission I will go make sure everything is as it should be.”
“Very well.”
Adelmann joined De Nemours just as François exited the room.
“Good. Any news on our guest?”
“Not that I know of, but I can go check if you like.”
“No, he is not important. No one will connect us with the Sergheev coven’s annihilation.”
As they talked, their steps carried them to the grand hall, where, as expected, the musicians had finished setting up their instruments on the newly installed stage and were tuning them. The room was beautifully decorated, the most expensive antiques spread wisely to create small islands across the floor. Walls covered in a thin, gold paper and a ceiling bordered with hand-carved woodwork completed the picture.
The air stirred.
“They’re here.”
They strolled to the grand doors and swung them open just as the first limo pulled in the driveway.
De Nemours and Wilhelm Adelmann waited on the highest step of the stairs to welcome the guests, with François at De Nemours’s right, one step behind. The limousine rolled to a stop and Jacques gestured to one of the youngest residents of his coven to get the door for the most important member of the Council.
* * * *
The party was in full swing. Powerful vampires glided across the floor alone or in pairs, some dancing, some mingling, but most of them discussing what they knew best. Politics. There were over two hundred guests, each Council member or lord having brought at least ten escorts.
“Lovely party, De Nemours.” Charles Beauviers, Count of Nevers, Head of the Council, and one of the oldest vampires there approached him.
“Thank you, your lordship. It’s an honor having you here.” De Nemours kept his true thoughts in check, his hatred wrapped tightly inside of him. He’d learned to hide his thoughts from the elders, but bastards like Beauviers had ways of finding out the truth and one could never be too careful.
“I’ve always liked a good party.”
Jacques studied the man who could have his and his men’s heads on a silver platter with a simple gesture. He didn’t seem frightening. His features were remarkably common, brown hair, strong jaw and straight nose. Medium weight, medium height. Nothing noteworthy about him. An untrained eye wouldn’t be able to tell just how powerful he really was. No newbie could’ve have been the Head of the Council for as long as he had. He knew all the tricks, intrigues, and power games, but he was unpredictable, which made him a dangerous opponent.
Perfect Timing Page 16