Perfect Timing

by Aimee Brissay

  “Go down there, and if you find him, bring him here. I want to hear from him the whole story.”

  “You have no right.” De Nemours had recovered and climbed to his feet. He stepped forward. “It is my coven. You have no right here.”

  Beauviers’ eyes gleamed dangerously. The men he’d sent downstairs paused before reaching the door and waited for clarification.

  “You heard me. Go and bring him to me if you can find him.”

  “You can’t!” De Nemours screamed. “I’m the lord here. You have no authority.”

  “I’m the Head of the Council. I have all the authority I need. You have nothing to hide down there, do you?”

  The vampire swallowed audibly. “Of course not.”

  “Then you have nothing to fear.”

  Shawn rolled his shoulders, trying to release some of the tension gathered in his muscles, but it didn’t help. His ears strained to pick out anything from below, and his fist clenched convulsively around the fabric in his hand. Minutes crept in an incredible slowness and the silence in the room became deafening. There was no love for him in there, not that he was expecting any. But the surprise came from the hostility they showed to De Nemours, one of their own kind.

  Shawn glanced at Beauviers and found him listening intently. He commanded the respect of everyone in the room by his mere presence. The men he’d sent downstairs obeyed him out of love, not fear. If he weren’t paying such a close attention to the elder, Shawn could have missed the way he tensed, nostrils flaring. The cloth in his hand jerked. Something was happening.

  Beauviers pinned him with shrewd eyes.

  “Turns out you were right, kitten.”

  Shawn couldn’t talk. His mouth felt dry and his heart rose to his throat. Silence fell and stretched out. Shawn could feel the support of the werewolves lined up behind him and it humbled him, making him long for a pride of his own.

  He couldn’t say how long he stood, eyes locked with the vampire, but he could recall each beat of his heart as it tried to pound its way out of his chest.

  De Nemours looked shaken.

  Steps reverberated in the hallway and Shawn held his breath. The two vampires sent searching entered the hall, dragging between them one of the men he’d faced in the clearing, followed closely by the five sent as reinforcements. There were fresh cuts and bruises on their faces and bodies, evidence of the struggle that had been going on in the dungeons. The procession closed in and the guests shifted ranks to allow passage. The scent hit Shawn and he narrowed his eyes, regarding all the bloodsuckers in the room. Somewhere in there, there were those two that had slaughtered Valentin’s coven and ransacked his room. He’d recognize their scent anywhere.

  The procession passed by him, and Shawn could have sworn he’d seen worried glances being thrown his way.

  What is going on? Where is Valentin? Oh my God, is he dead?

  They stopped in front of Beauviers and one of the men spoke. He was swaying on his feet, his eyes carrying a dazed expression.

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but the wizard escaped. We tried to capture him but he vanished.”

  The elder nodded and touched the man’s forehead, whispering a few words. The air around them crackled and whatever spell the bloodsucker was under broke, his eyes clearing.

  One of the vampires moved from the group and only then the burden he was carrying became visible. The man stepped forth and presented his load to the lord.

  Cuddled in the bloodsucker’s arms there was an extremely skinny man, almost a corpse. His complexion, pale to begin with, was ashen. Oh God, Valentin. From where he stood, Shawn could hear no heartbeat, no breathing.

  Shawn let out a strangled cry and took a couple of hesitant steps toward them. At once two vampires cut off his path, not touching him but making sure he couldn’t get closer to the elder.

  “Please, oh God, I want to see him. Please, let me get to him.”

  The vampires didn’t budge.

  “Please. I need to see him.”

  “Let him through.” Before the soft order was fully out, the vampires slid to the side, allowing Shawn to pass. He rushed forward, wanting to pull his mate away from the man, to tear the vampire apart for touching Valentin, but he did none of that. He placed his hands gently under his lover’s body and lifted him easily into his arms. Valentin weighed almost nothing. Dirty-blond strands were glued to his forehead and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  Shawn dropped to his knees, careful not to shake his precious burden too badly, and cradled him to his chest. He brushed the strands away from Valentin’s face and his vision blurred with tears.

  “Oh, baby. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

  Shawn kissed the vampire’s forehead, his eyelids, tears pouring down his cheeks. He wasn’t ashamed of crying. He kept whispering apologies mixed with endearments and placing random kisses across Valentin’s face. He brushed his lips against his mate’s and froze. The gentlest of breezes had touched his skin.

  Shawn pulled away and held the vampire at arm’s length. His breathing was so shallow his chest was barely moving.

  “He’s alive. Heavens, he’s alive. Somebody help me.” He looked up. He’d beg if he’d have to.

  The lord stepped closer and pressed his palm against Valentin’s forehead. Shawn snarled possessively. Immediately strong fingers grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. Shawn jerked, surprised at the touch, his protective instinct screaming, and tried to shrug off the offending hands without breaking hold of his mate. The elder didn’t even flinch.

  “Leave him be. He’s just protecting his mate.”

  Magic simmered under the elder’s skin. Shawn could feel it sizzling all the way through Valentin’s clothes. Or what was left of them.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Hush, kitten. I’m not trying to hurt him.”

  Valentin’s skin glowed under Beauviers’s hands and he moaned, stirring.

  “Tell me what to do. I need to do something.” His plea went unheard. Shawn settled for holding his mate close, whispering soft pleas in his ear.

  The elder withdrew his hand and spoke again, his voice holding just the faintest strain.

  “You should feed him.”

  From behind them someone snorted.

  “Yeah, good luck with that.” De Nemours had fully recovered and stood ten steps behind the elder, mocking.

  “You have something to add, De Nemours?”

  “No, my lord. Nothing at all.”

  Shawn ignored him and rolled up his left sleeve, willing his fangs to descend.

  “It’s just that, whatever blood we tried to feed him seemed to make him worse. But hey, give it a go. I’m sure he has one more good puke left in him.”

  Shawn roared at the insult and paused with his arm halfway to his mouth.

  “He dies, you die. Slowly and painfully. Remember that.”

  “So the tabby has teeth, huh?”

  “You are one step away from finding out how sharp my teeth are.”

  Valentin’s breath hitched. Shawn looked up frantically at the elder, asking advice with his eyes. Beauviers shrugged.

  “Feed him. If he is your mate, he’ll live.”

  “That’s bullshit.” De Nemours snorted.

  Shawn sank his canines into his own wrist and held out his hand to Valentin’s lips. Blood gushed and few drops dribbled inside the vampire’s mouth. For long seconds nothing happened, and then a pink tongue peeked out and licked at the hot liquid.

  “That’s it, baby. Drink.” He pressed his wrist over his mate’s mouth. Valentin’s lips closed over the wound and he sucked. There wasn’t much strength behind it, but it meant that his lover was still alive, and it was all that mattered for Shawn.

  The wound started to close and Valentin chewed at it. The bite was unskilled, like a cub’s, and Shawn winced in pain. The vampire drank his fill, which wasn’t much at all, and his hold loosened. He choked.

  “See? What did I say?” De Nemo
urs was annoyed, rolling his eyes and making faces, like he couldn’t understand how anyone could not pay attention to him.

  Shawn placed his mate gently on the floor and turned his head to the side so he wouldn’t choke if his stomach indeed couldn’t handle the blood. Beauviers smirked and got out of the way.

  “Have at it.”

  Shawn’s jaguar exploded, pieces of clothing flying through the air. Without a sound, he flung himself at De Nemours. The vampire dodged, but not fast enough, and the feline bit his shoulder, cutting to the bone. The bloodsucker fell onto his back and the jaguar landed on all fours on his chest. The canines slid free, taking with them a whole chunk of flesh, and Shawn went for the jugular.

  The guests protested, some screamed and some struggled to get closer, getting ready to strike. It didn’t matter if they liked De Nemours or not. He was a vampire and had just been attacked by a therian. The werewolves reacted in kind, closing ranks, struggling to keep themselves under control. Some of the younger shifters whimpered with the need to change, yet the alphas kept them firmly in hand and no one dared attack without orders.

  The vampires snarled and growled and drew closer. Beauviers lifted his hand and everyone froze in their place.

  “It’s his right.”

  De Nemours foresaw the move and his claws met the jaguar’s muzzle. The jaws snapped closed loudly as a talon pierced the soft whiskers under the chin. Shawn yelped. De Nemours saw an opportunity and aimed his fangs at the jaguar’s throat. Their sharp points glistered on the shiny fur and sank under his shoulder. The cat tensed and tried to pull free. Using it as leverage, the vampire swung them both until he was on top. One of Shawn’s front paws raked against his skin and he followed its move, catching it and snapping it like a twig. A high pitched yowl filled the room as soon as the pain registered in the cat’s mind.

  The jaguar tensed and tried to throw its burden away. The vampire saw it coming and shifted on top of Shawn. It became clear to Shawn he wasn’t anywhere close the vampire’s class. His only chance was to move fast, so he bared his throat a little to entice his opponent and brought up his hind legs, aiming for the soft flesh on the bloodsucker’s belly, in the same move that had helped him escape Theodore. De Nemours misunderstood his intentions and shifted to accommodate him. The vampire realized his mistake half of a second too late and brought his hands down to protect his stomach. The jaguar’s claws cut right through clothes, skin, and guts. The bloodsucker screamed. Blood gushed and the vampire dropped his guard. Shawn’s jaws closed around the jugular and tore it open.

  De Nemours went slack atop him and the jaguar pushed him away with its paws. It jumped to its feet and shifted back to human form. He stood motionless for a moment, wild-eyed, getting himself under control.

  The ragged breath coming from his mate drew Shawn’s attention. Shawn locked eyes with Beauviers, silently asking for permission. At Beauviers’ nod he rushed over to Valentin.

  Valentin looked a little better. Still pale, the softest pink colored his cheeks and his heart beat stronger. Shawn ran his fingers over the side of his lover’s face and Valentin stirred under the touch.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Come back to me. I need you with me.” Shawn cooed softly at his mate.

  “You came for me.”

  “Of course I did.”

  The vampires, whom at Shawn’s victory over De Nemours had shown obvious signs of aggression, exchanged confused glances with each other.

  Andrei stepped forward and addressed Beauviers.

  “If I may, my lord. I think that proves sufficiently enough that Valentin is indeed his mate. Or, in this case, Shawn is his.”

  Shawn stared at his friend in confusion. What was all that about?

  “It does.”

  It did?

  “Do you consider he has kept his end?” End of what? Have I lost my understanding of English or has everyone started talking in tongues?

  “I do.”

  “In that case, we will take Valentin and leave you to your own.”

  “In a moment.”

  “You backing out on your deal?”

  Is that a threat I’m hearing in Andrei’s voice? Is he crazy?

  Apparently the vampires around them had the same opinion. They frowned, scowled, growled, sneered, and everything in between.

  “Don’t get you hackles up, wolfie. I’m not backing out on anything.” Beauviers had just been insulted and yet he acted like the words had just washed off of him. “I just want to have a word with the little fledgling there.”

  “No!”

  “Oh?”

  “Shawn, shut the fuck up.”

  The jaguar turned to his friend. “What? He is not getting anywhere near my mate.”

  “You do realize that he is standing right next to you.”

  Shawn flushed. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

  Beauviers grinned and waved away his apology. “I just want to ask him a few questions. That’s all. You could try feeding him again.” Shawn hesitated. “Or I could use some magic to wake him up.”

  “No, I got it.”

  “I can see that.” Shawn had already opened up his wrist and shoved it under his mate’s nose.

  Valentin fed longer this time, and each pull of his mouth grew stronger. Color returned to his skin, his breathing eased, and his eyelids fluttered open. Their eyes locked and sparks flew between them.

  “Hey there, sweetheart. It’s good to see those black eyes of yours.” Valentin licked the wound closed, keeping his eyes on Shawn’s. It felt like the most intimate thing in the world. His cock hardened, and he became aware that he was naked in a room full of people.

  Valentin picked up on his mood and winked.

  “You think this is funny?” He bent over and whispered in his ear. “You will pay for this, sweetheart.”

  “Looking forward to it. Did you mean it? Calling me sweetheart?”

  “Yes. And get used to it, because you will be hearing it a lot from now on.”

  Beauviers came closer, entering Valentin’s field of view. Shawn watched as his mate’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Valentin pushed at his shoulders, trying to get up. He managed to climb to his knees and stayed like that, unsure of his feet, head half-bowed and eyes lowered to the ground.

  “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t know you were here.”

  Your Highness?

  “Drop the title. Something less formal would do.”

  “Yes, your… my lord.”

  “Better. I know your name is Valentin.”

  “Yes. Valentin Alekseev of the Sergheev coven.”

  “The one that was slaughtered?”

  “Yes.” Valentin choked on the word.

  “What happened there?”

  “I do not know for sure. They were professionals.”

  “They were vampires.” Shawn intervened. Valentin glared at him. “What?”

  “Shut up.”

  “How do you know that?” Beauviers asked.

  “He showed it to me.” Valentin elbowed him in the ribs. Damn, his mate was bony. Shawn rubbed the sore place and glared at his lover.

  “You mean he told you?”

  “No. What I said. He showed me. I saw everything that happened that night through his eyes.”

  “So he showed you the vampires there?”

  “No, I smelled them.”

  The elder was suddenly in his face, grabbing Shawn by the throat and lifting him off the ground. Out of reflex, Shawn’s hands shot up and clawed at Beauviers’ fingers, trying to pry them off. “You smelled them in his memories? Are you making fun of me?”

  Shawn shook his head as frantically as the hold allowed.

  “He is not.” Valentin’s eyes were still lowered and he sounded surprised at his courage.

  “I’m listening.” The lord’s grip hadn’t lessened and Shawn was slowly turning purple.

  * * * *

  “I took him back with me and he saw everything through my eyes. My room being ran
sacked, the massacre in the library and the grand hall, Yuri’s body, my escape. Everything.”

  Beauviers let Shawn drop and concentrated solely on the still-kneeling vampire. “How is it possible for a fledgling to do this? This kind of magic is reserved only to the eldest of us.”

  Valentin mumbled something under his breath. The vampires present in the room looked horrified.

  “I’m not sure I heard that correctly. Did you just say you drank some of Yuri’s blood?”

  “Yes.”

  “After he died?”

  No fledgling should have been able to survive it.”

  “Because the blood was bad? Or because it was an elder’s blood?”

  When Beauviers didn’t answer, Valentin took it upon himself. Shawn was risking his life for him. The least he could do was tell him all the facts.

  “Both. But mostly because it’s my sire’s blood.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I now am the master of his line.”

  Shawn, along with half of the people gathered there, gaped at him.

  “You want to kill him because he is now a master on his own?”

  “This is not the way.”

  “If he weren’t worthy, would it have been possible for him to survive this?” Shawn asked.

  The elder took a long time answering, and Valentin could feel his gaze piercing him right to his soul.

  “No. He wouldn’t have.” He accepted grudgingly.

  “Then it’s settled. He walks. You gave your word.” Shawn stepped in front of Beauviers putting himself between Valentin and the lord. He would protect his mate with his life.

  Their eyes caught and held, each of them trying to stare the other down. Finally, the elder nodded. “You walk. I will expect your visit after you settle in. Both of you.”

  Settle in? Where?

  “Thank you, my lord. We will be honored.”

  “One more thing.” Beauviers pointed at the man that had been escorted from the dungeons along with Valentin. “Is he one of those who attacked your coven?”

  The vampire stared at him and worried at his lower lip, pondering his answer. Shawn looked at him, not knowing who he really was, and took the decision from his mate’s hands.