by Barb Hendee
Just past dusk on the third night, all four of them were outside the shack, and Maxim looked upward. A flock of geese was flying overhead.
“Look,” he said, narrowing his eyes in concentration.
Suddenly their V shape broke up, and they formed two circles in the sky. Then they formed a star while still flying.
“Oh, Maxim,” Rose said, smiling. “Very clever.”
Was he trying to entertain them?
But Seamus wasn’t watching the geese. He was watching Maxim.
“What is it?” Eleisha asked.
“As soon as he linked into the geese . . . I almost couldn’t sense his signature anymore. Could that be the trick? When he’s connected to animals, he’s so much a part of them that a hint of their life force becomes part of him?”
Eleisha pondered this. “I don’t know. Maybe part of it. I think so many years of feeding only on animals may have weakened his signature, too.”
Maxim was different from any other vampire she’d known. Perhaps like mortals, the evolution of an undead was also based on conditions and environment.
“But unless he can redevelop his gift,” she added, “he’ll never be able to hunt on his own.”
“Would that be so terrible?” Rose asked, looking down from the geese to Eleisha.
“What do you mean?”
“If he couldn’t hunt on his own? If you or I had to go out with him every time and use our own gifts and replace a memory for him. Would that be such a tragedy?”
Eleisha had not considered this—at least not for the long term. “No,” she answered, “it would not.”
She and Rose could simply trade off taking him hunting . . . but of course, they’d have to get Philip on board as well.
The possibilities drifted through her mind, and she came to a decision.
“I’m going to take him out tonight. We passed some houses on the way to that newer cemetery . . . what was it called, Caufield?”
Maxim stopped playing with the geese and turned to look at her. Sometimes she thought he understood a great deal being said around him.
“Will you come with me?” she asked him directly. “Come hunting . . . as you did with Adalrik?”
He flinched at Adalrik’s name, as the image of his second mentor always brought a memory of Julian’s sword, but Eleisha wanted him to remember that night in the alley, the only time he’d ever fed by the first law.
“Come with me,” she said.
When she began walking toward the path back to the road, he followed.
After two straight nights of hanging around the Montague hotel—while Wade and Philip did basically nothing—Mary teleported back to Great Fosters to give Julian a report, whether he wanted one or not.
But when she materialized in the sitting room of the suite, it was empty. Julian’s bedroom door was closed, and she sensed his presence on the other side.
Where was Jasper?
Focusing, she felt his signature up above her somewhere, and she blinked out, blinking back in on the hotel’s rooftop. Jasper sat near the edge of the roof, gazing out over the painstakingly landscaped and manicured grounds.
The English certainly knew how to design a garden.
“You okay?” she asked.
He turned his head quickly, and his face lit up. “Mary? Is something happening? Are we moving in?”
Sorry to disappoint him, she shook her head. “Not yet, but I just had to get away for a few minutes. Wade and Philip are just sitting there, waiting.”
He grimaced. “So are we. I couldn’t stand it in that suite another minute. It’s no big thrill up here, but it’s better than staying in there with him.”
The venom in his voice caught her attention. He’d never spoken of Julian with anything but respect, and he’d made it crystal clear that he was more than pleased with his current lifestyle and would do anything to keep it.
“You sound as though you hate him,” she said.
“I don’t like the way he talks to you. I don’t like the way he treats you.”
That threw her for a loop. Jasper was pissed off over the way Julian talked to her? “He doesn’t mean it,” she said. “That’s just the way he is. He came from a different time.”
“Well, this is now, and you’re the one doing all the work.”
No one had ever put her first like this, and she wasn’t sure what to say, but maybe . . . maybe he was getting sick of working for Julian?
“He promised he’d let me go if I served him, that he’d let me stay on this plane but cut me loose from him.”
Jasper turned his head toward her. “When?”
“I don’t know. I think when he’s sure Eleisha’s found the last elder.”
His face fell. “That will take forever.”
“No, there couldn’t be too many more. From what he’s told me, only a few could’ve slipped him—maybe not even that many. He just wants to be sure.”
“What will you do when it’s over?”
“Depends on what you do.” She hesitated, not sure she wanted an answer, but finally asked, “Could you be happy without the money . . . the cars and the clothes and condo? Just fending for yourself?”
He was quiet for a little, and then answered, “Yeah, I could. When this is over, I don’t think I’d mind being cut loose either.”
A shadow of hope flickered inside her.
“I always wanted to go to New York,” he went on. “You think you could give that a try?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I could.”
Eleisha had planned to travel inside the tree line down the road for a while before finding a house where someone lived alone, but as they emerged from the path into Caufield Cemetery, she saw a light on in the shed near the small cottage.
Reaching out with her mind, she picked up thoughts from only one person—a woman.
The isolated situation was ideal . . . but this place was only a ten-minute walk from where they were hiding out. However, if she succeeded tonight, they wouldn’t be here long.
Maxim sniffed the air, seeming uncomfortable at being so out in the open.
“It’s all right,” she said, grasping his hand. “Let me do the talking.” She walked past several stone headstones and called out, “Hallo?”
The shed door opened, and a large woman with shorn hair came out, frowning. “Who’s there?”
Maxim tensed and began to pull away, but Eleisha gripped down on his fingers. “No,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”
Then she called out, “Here! Over here.”
The large woman strode toward them, carrying a flashlight. She wore jeans and a heavy flannel shirt. “I didn’t hear a car.” She didn’t sound happy. “What you doing out . . . ?”
Six feet away, she got her first clear look at Maxim, and Eleisha wondered if this had been a good idea. While he was clean and dressed now, and his slender features were almost pretty, she hadn’t quite realized how his demeanor might appear to someone unaccustomed to him. He didn’t make eye contact, and he constantly shifted his weight between his bare feet.
“My brother got lost in the woods,” Eleisha said. “I’ve been looking all day, and my cell phone is dead. I just found him. May I use your phone to try and call our father? There are still other people out looking.”
Maxim didn’t look remotely as if he could be her brother, but as Eleisha spoke, her gift flowed out, making the woman see her as someone small and helpless and in need of assistance. Unfortunately, as Maxim stared tensely at the ground, he growled softly. Eleisha gripped down harder on his hand.
The woman tried to get a glimpse beneath his bangs, to see more of his face. “Is he . . . is he all right?”
Her meaning became clear in seconds, and Eleisha latched on to the idea. The woman was wondering if Maxim was somehow “challenged.” That could work.
Eleisha feigned distress. “Yes, he’s very special. Please, could I use your phone?”
“Of course,” the woman said, shifting into helpf
ul mode. “You both must be freezing. Did he lose his shoes? You came from the woods? Do you know where you are now? You come inside, and I can give your father directions.”
Eleisha could sense a kindness under the woman’s gruff, cautious exterior. She must be the caretaker of the cemetery here. The house was small, but warm and clean, and Eleisha pulled Maxim inside the front door. Had he truly wanted to flee, he certainly could have jerked away from her, but he seemed to be fighting his fear and reluctance in order to stay with her.
“Phone’s over here,” the woman said, walking past her couch toward a low table.
“Wait,” Eleisha said, reaching into her mind. “You’re tired. You need to sleep.”
The woman was strong and wavered on her feet until Eleisha sank the suggestion deeper, and then she fell forward onto the couch.
Letting go of Maxim’s hand, Eleisha connected with his thoughts.
Stay with me. Stay inside my mind as you did with Adalrik. Remember that night with Adalrik, but stay with me.
With the woman unconscious now, Maxim seemed calmer, and he looked at Eleisha intensely. She flashed images of him feeding from the man’s wrist in the alley.
Like that. You have to be careful, and take enough but not too much. Listen for the heartbeat.
She hurried to the couch and turned the woman over, positioning her on her back.
Over here.
Maxim seemed interested now and came to kneel beside her. His dark eyes were shifting back and forth at the images she was sending, and when she lifted the woman’s wrist, he grasped it.
Be careful.
Putting his teeth to her wrist, he bit down. Eleisha stayed sharply on guard, ready to freeze him if this got out of hand, but for the most part, she just continued showing him his own memories of the only other time he’d done this.
He began sucking and swallowing, and Eleisha also kept a good sense of the woman’s heartbeat. She was just about to tell him to stop . . . when he pulled out on his own.
Good! she flashed. Stay with me.
The woman had been out in the shed when they arrived, and Eleisha assumed she owned shears for gardening. She took the woman back before they’d arrived. The woman accidently cut her wrist on a pair of shears and came into the house before realizing the depth of the cut. She’d seen no one, met no one. Then she passed out.
Eleisha disengaged her mind from Maxim’s.
He sat close to her, his eyes still intense.
“You feel better?” she asked.
“Better.” He studied the woman’s chest as it rose and fell. “First law.”
“Yes.” She took his hand again. He was beginning to comprehend some of his own memories, and Eleisha was reteaching him the old ways. Robert would be proud of them both.
Only on the way back to the shack did Eleisha remember that while feeding, Maxim had seen none of the woman’s memories—none at all.
chapter thirteen
The past two nights had been hell for Wade. For once, Philip had no interest in being entertained. He didn’t want to watch movies or play cards . . . or do anything. He either paced or he sat and stared into space. Philip had always been hot-tempered, even explosive, but this was different.
He was angry—deeply, silently angry.
Upon waking the third night, Wade wasn’t sure he could go through another ten or eleven hours like this. In addition, he didn’t feel able to nurse his own feelings of anger and his own fears that Eleisha viewed him as a mere appendage that had its uses—as long as he didn’t get in her way.
Philip came down the stairs wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. His normally flawless hair was a mess, sticking out in several directions.
“Put on a shirt,” Wade said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice. “I’m calling room service for something to eat. Do you want tea or a glass of wine?”
Maybe a bottle of wine would do them both good.
“No,” Philip answered, dropping down onto the couch and staring into space.
Wade couldn’t stand it anymore. “Are you going to start that again?”
“I am thinking.”
“About what?” Wade tried to keep sarcasm from his voice. He didn’t expect an answer.
But Philip said, “A memory Eleisha showed me.”
Wade stepped back. “A memory?”
“From Robert. She thinks I’ve forgotten, but now I think it is the core of all this. I am not what she wants me to be, or she wouldn’t have disregarded my judgment so easily.”
Wade stood tense, partly annoyed, partly filled with pity, partly feeling something else . . . something he couldn’t quite name. “Philip, she did what she did because of the mission. This isn’t all about you.”
Just then, Wade’s cell phone rang. It was lying on an end table.
Philip jumped up, but Wade dived for it. He was closer, only a few steps away, and he grabbed it, holding his hand out to Philip. “Stay there!”
Wade flipped the phone open.
“Eleisha?”
Philip’s whole body was trembling slightly, but he held off.
“We’re outside of Oxford,” she said immediately, “and I really need you. I’ve taken him as far as I can, but you need to take over now. If you promise you’ll help me, I’ll give you directions.”
“Of course I’ll help you.” He couldn’t believe she was asking him this. What? As if he were some kind of monster? That vampire had tried to kill her. How had she expected them to react?
“And you won’t let Philip hurt him?” she asked.
That was another matter, but he said, “I won’t. Where are you?”
“Go to Paddington Station and take a train to Oxford . . . .” She went on, giving him careful instructions to Caufield Cemetery northeast of the Farmoor Reservoir. “Seamus will meet you there and guide you the rest of the way.”
“All right.”
“Can you bring our luggage? We all need clean clothes. The back of my shirt is torn, and Rose has been in the same dress since we got here.”
Eleisha sounded so tired, and for the first time, Wade’s anger wavered. Was it possible that he and Philip really had driven her and Rose to such drastic measures?
“Yes, we’ll bring everything.”
“Okay, thanks. See you soon.”
They both hung up.
Philip was staring daggers at him.
“I know where they are,” Wade said. “We need to catch a train.”
Philip grabbed up his machete and his coat. He didn’t say anything.
Mary didn’t realize how close she’d cut her time until about four seconds after materializing on top of the Montague . . . just as Wade and Philip walked out the front door carrying their luggage.
Due to her short visit with Jasper, she could have missed them leaving.
Yikes.
But that recrimination didn’t stay with her long. She hadn’t missed them. They were on the move, and they seemed to have checked out of the hotel.
Finally.
She watched them climb into a taxi, and then she floated upward, high in the sky, keeping an eye on their cab as she followed. They went all the way to Paddington Station.
Interesting.
She couldn’t wait to see where they went next.
For Wade, the train ride seemed short, but he was growing more and more concerned about Philip—who hadn’t said a word since Eleisha’s call. Wade tried to engage him a few times, but he got no response.
After completing a taxi ride from Oxford Station all the way to Caufield Cemetery where Eleisha had instructed them to get out, Wade paid the driver and watched him drive off; then he turned to Philip.
“I promised Eleisha we’d help her,” he said, “and she’s trusting me. She says she’s gotten this vampire calm and able to speak, so it’s possible we were both wrong. When we get there, you need to at least listen to what she has to say and not start yelling . . . or anything else. Do you understand?”
Phili
p studied the headstones all around them.
“Philip! Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
Well, at least he’d said something. Wade didn’t begrudge him his anger, but they were not guiltless here, and it seemed now that Eleisha may have been right all along. He’d just have to make an assessment and see if she was overstating the vampire’s progress.
The air shimmered, and Seamus materialized with a guarded expression. He didn’t move for a long moment and then looked at Wade.
“You’re here to help?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Philip didn’t say anything, and Wade wondered if his silence was simple agreement to the answer. But even if not, Eleisha had always been able to handle him. She’d be ready to placate him now, and they couldn’t go back. They could only move forward.
“This way,” Seamus said, heading down a path through the trees that Wade had not noticed before.
Eleisha was standing in front of the shack, waiting as Seamus, Wade, and Philip came out of the trees and began walking through the smaller, older graveyard. She braced herself. Rose and Maxim were still inside, but Eleisha needed to get a feel for what she was up against.
Both men were carrying luggage. That was a good sign. They’d done as she had asked, and they seemed prepared to stay here if need be. But as she got a clearer look at Philip, some of her hopes fell. He put down the suitcase. His hair was a mess. His coat was buttoned only halfway up his chest, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt beneath it. Had he ridden to Oxford like that?
That wasn’t a good sign.
Still, just the sight of him sent a jolt up her spine she did not expect. She was surprised, almost ashamed, of how much she’d missed his handsome face, his need for fun . . . the feel of his chest beneath her head.
He wasn’t looking back at her. He wasn’t looking at anyone.
“Wade?” she asked anxiously. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” he answered.
The gratitude she felt for him at that moment could not be measured. No matter what breaches or difficulties passed them, he would put the mission first—or at least as he saw it. She knew he would always protect her above any other vampire they found, and this had motivated him earlier to side with Philip. But now he was ready to help her: solid as a rock, ready to forgive and forget.