If he could find her.
“I’ll stay and help. Two noses are better than one.”
“No. You have to go home and warn the tribe. Those slavers may return and take more of our people. That’s more important than either me or Kele.”
Nahuel gripped his bruised shoulder and squeezed. “You are a better male than I and I’d be proud to call you brother.”
Peder grinned. “An Apisi dog?”
“Even a rabid one.” He laughed. “When I reach home, I’ll send help.”
Peder remained rooted to his spot watching Nahuel lope away. Home. He couldn’t picture it anymore. The den, his pack, even their lands…it all seemed empty without Kele at his side. No matter where she went, he’d track her.
Suddenly Nahuel stopped and weaved almost as if he’d been struck in the head, but Peder didn’t see any attackers. The hunter fell to the ground, followed by the sound of his skull hitting the cobblestone.
Without thinking, Peder stepped forward into the light and felt a familiar sting in his shoulder. He stared at the small dart.
When would he learn?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ahote staggered next to Benic. They had spent the whole day searching every slave compound, labor yard, and whorehouse they came across. Still no Kele or Peder. There’d been one rumor about a golden shifter who won a challenge against the reigning champions, but that couldn’t be Peder. He was omega, not hunter.
An envelope was pinned to the outside of their door. Benic yanked it free and unlocked the room.
The shifter shoved him out of the way and flopped on the bed face-first. “I hate this city. I hate any city.” He pulled the pillow over his head. “Please tell me that’s a letter from Kele with directions to her prison cell.”
He settled in the closest chair, the wooden seat giving his tired bones little relief. Flipping the envelope, he recognized the seal and groaned. “Things just got worse.”
Ahote pulled the second pillow over his head. “How?” His voice came out muffled. For the last few hours, the smells of the city had been really bothering him. Benic wouldn’t deny him what little shelter those cushions gave.
He broke the seal and read the contents with a cold heart. “It’s an invitation for dinner. Tonight.” He rolled his head and cracked his neck. That would make a perfect end to this perfect day.
“Turn it down.”
“One does not turn down Grand Lord Weis, Ahote.” He undid his shirt and poured cold water into the washbasin. “You have to wash as well.”
“I didn’t see my name on that piece of paper.”
Benic ground his teeth and splashed water under his arms. “What else do you have to do tonight?”
The hunter peeked out from under the pillows. “Get some food and find a female.”
“Very well.” Benic frowned. “Just don’t bring her here.” After spending an evening among high society, he’d probably want to wallow in a bottle of fine pirate rum.
“Not interested in sharing?”
Benic scrubbed the day’s stink off his skin and searched his bag for a clean shirt. Instead, he pulled out the amulet he’d given Kele as a mating day present. The stones felt cold under his thumb. “No. Have at it. Just somewhere else.” He pulled on his shirt, then fastened the amulet around his neck. He’d let her down in everything. Somewhere in this godforsaken city, she suffered at someone’s hand. He should have fought harder to get her back instead of hiding in shame in his tower.
The sun was setting and he would be fashionably late. He pulled on his cleaner jacket and dusted it off, then fixed his hair using his reflection in the water basin. It would have to do. He hadn’t come to the city for pleasure. Lord Weis would just have to turn an understanding eye to his lack of proper attire.
Outside their inn, he hailed a public carriage and directed the driver to Lord Weis’s manor. Benic rested his eyes. For someone who stayed sequestered in the suburbs of New Berg, Weis was well informed. Benic had hoped he would get at least two days before he was summoned.
Weis managed the northeastern part of North Amerigo. He had run the war against the shifters when the Vampire Nation first landed there, but had since retired about fifty years ago. That bloody war had left a bad taste in all their mouths. Rumor was Weis recently had applied for a wife and was denied as well. Made Benic’s rejection sting a little less.
The carriage slowed and he opened his eyes. Torches lit the carriage’s path on each side of the driveway. The flickering light sent shadows dancing over the manicured lawns. In the distance, an orchestra played. So this seemed more than just dinner between old friends. He banged his head against the back of the chair. He hated parties as much as Ahote hated cities.
“Sir?” The driver glanced at him over his shoulder. “Do you want me to keep driving?”
He laughed. “I’m that obvious? No, good wolf, I will brave these waters, especially if they have some fine wine.” He opened the carriage door, stepped out and straightened his road-weary jacket.
The butler took his name and led him to the back garden and the party. “Lord Gerald Benic of the Adirondack province.”
He paused on the stone steps and nodded toward the curious gazes in the crowd. A country lord would be something to gossip about. All the lovely females decorating the garden were of other races. Not a single vampire among them. Their beauty would fade in decades while they stayed stuck in time. After a while, it grew too painful to love any of them.
Yet his heart still ached for Kele. Or did it? Maybe it was more the idea of her. Aside from Inacio, he hadn’t had a steady companion or lover in a long, long while. Maybe he was lonely. He smirked at the thought. Surrounded by people yet lonely. Very poetic. Inacio would love it.
“Sir?”
He turned toward the inquirer, who turned out to be a young male shifter dressed in Weis’s livery.
“Lord Weis would like a word with you. If you would?” He gestured for him to follow and strode away, not waiting for him to answer. Benic guessed it was assumed he’d want to speak with his lordship.
A server approached with a tray of filled wineglasses.
He took two. Tossed the first one back to clear his throat and savored the second. It had a nice woody bouquet to the flavor and was almost red enough to be mistaken for blood. What did they use to get that color?
The manservant bowed to a gentleman with battle scars on his face who spoke with a small group of what looked like businessmen. Their skin looked too smooth for anyone used to hard work.
Lord Weis left them and held out his calloused hand for Benic to shake. He gripped him, making the bones creak. Fine—the decades spent hiding in his manor hadn’t made Weis soft. His point was proven.
Benic gave him a tired smile. “Weis, thank you for the invite.”
He snorted. “I doubt it. I was surprised to hear of your presence in my city. How long has it been since the last visit?”
Benic finished his wine and signaled to the servant circling the party for another. “Not long enough.” If he had to attend this function, he’d at least get his fill. “Your invitation said a private dinner. I’d hate to see your idea of a party.”
“I know you, Benic. Too well.” He frowned. “If it had said party, I would have had to send a regiment to drag you here.”
The servant offered him his tray.
He took another two. “Just keep them coming.”
Weis eyed his glasses. “I see some things don’t change.”
“If I recall properly, you used to have the capacity to beat me at this game.” Benic offered him a full glass.
With a sheepish grin, Weis took it. “I have other things to occupy my time.” He nodded to a pretty cat shifter with skin of creamed caramel, whose sparkling blue eyes were filled with mischief. She winked and fanned her face.
Benic shrugged. “After a time, they all sort of blend together in my memory.” Who knows, he might have fucked the girl’s mother, or grandmother, or great gr
eat grandmother. It just didn’t matter when they couldn’t share more than a few years with him.
“I don’t remember you this jaded.”
“I don’t remember you this stiff.” Benic emptied his glass. “Nice choice of wine, by the way. Are we done with the small talk? Why did you go through the trouble of tricking me into attending?”
The servant returned with more wine.
Lord Weis waved his hand. “Just bring him a damn bottle.” He stabbed Benic with a glare. “I have a problem I’d like you to take care of.”
“I don’t kill for money anymore.” He waved his ring in front of Weis’s face. “I don’t need to.”
“If it were that easy, I’d have taken care of it myself. This requires a vampire with your qualifications and straightforwardness.”
Benic raised his eyebrow and accepted the open bottle of wine offered to him. “Fine, you have my attention.” Weis wasn’t the type of vampire who asked for favors. If he managed to do as asked, then Weis would owe him a boon. He’d have to figure out how to fit this in with his search for Kele. No matter what, one didn’t say no to a Grand Lord unless he wanted his government funding to suddenly vanish.
“An old acquaintance’s son showed up in my port a few days ago. He’s hell-bent on traveling west.”
Benic choked on his wine. “Is he dim-witted?”
“No doubt. I’d like you talk him out of it. I’ve even offered to buy him boarding passes for him and his pack to return home.”
“Why?” The wine had loosened his lips and the question popped out unintentionally.
Weis’s eyebrows furrowed as his frown grew deeper. “He’s the only heir to Lord Chipenbald’s estate. Unlike you and me, his place is in Europa. The twit even left a vampire bride at the altar.”
“Fuck.” Benic shook his head. “Maybe we don’t want someone like that in Chipenbald’s place. Who knows, the old bastard might live another seven hundred years or so.”
Chuckling, Weis shook his head. “I miss you Benic. You really should visit more often.” He clapped his hand on Benic’s shoulder. “Maybe you could take him out hunting.”
“There’s nothing to hunt around here. It’s all—all tamed. Now, if you want hunting you need to come to my forest. You just have to watch your back for my packs. I let them stay wild.”
“You’re insane.”
“Yes, I think I am.” Benic grinned. “Maybe you should go west with this idiot. You’ve done it before.”
“And barely survived. You’ve more experience than I. Go tell the prat some of your more horrific stories, like the one where the tribe hung you from a tree by piercing your balls.” He grimaced.
“Wasn’t my balls.” He shuddered. “It was my nipples and I volunteered.”
Weis’s sour expression vanished into surprise. “Why the fuck for?”
“It’s how they test a male’s strength and honor. I was trying to gain their trust to make a treaty. We used to try that before the war, remember?”
Weis rubbed his chin. “A little. It’s so long ago. Anyways. Don’t glorify the West. Scare him back home.” He took Benic’s now-empty bottle and led him through the crowd by the elbow. “He was around here earlier. Oh, yes, there he is. Ewald.”
A young vampire male twisted at the call of his name. Benic could tell his age by his almost clumsy grace. After a few centuries, one didn’t trip over one’s feet, especially in public unless they wanted to come across as young. He eyed him closer. No visible scars and skin smoother than Inacio’s bottom on his chin. Add the fool’s idea of an adventure and it equaled too young to be left unescorted. How had he escaped his father’s grasp?
With an easy smile, the young male hurried to Weis’s side. “Yes, my lord.”
“I’d like you to meet an old war friend of mine, Lord Benic.”
Benic offered Ewald his hand. “Pleasure.”
The young lord shook it as if he’d been made of fairy crystal.
“Benic is in the city on…well, you never mentioned why you’ve come to New Berg.” Weis gave him an expectant look.
“To fill my wine cellars, of course. The winter was very dry.”
Weis frowned. “Of course, why else?” He shook his head. “Benic’s traveled the West extensively. I thought you both could chat about it.”
Ewald’s grin grew slightly wider but his excitement made his eyes glow with interest. “That would be grand.” He shook Benic’s hand harder. “Very grand.” He somehow had to save this fool before he killed himself in the West. The young lord wouldn’t last a night. The packs would skin him alive and use his hide for a kilt.
Benic’s stomach rolled at the unwanted memory. That poor chap had been riding with him for a few weeks before they ran into the Tseena tribe. If his companion had just kept his racist vampire mouth shut and let Benic handle things, he wouldn’t be hanging in some wolf shifter’s closet.
Weis nodded. “Later Benic. Drop in before you return home. I might have a vintage to give you from my own cellars.”
Bribery of that sort worked well on him and Weis knew it. He clapped him on the shoulder as if they were still common soldiers in the Vampire Nation’s armies. “Come along, Ewald. Let’s find a seat and you can ask me about my narrow escapes.”
As they moved toward a quiet bench farther away, Benic spotted three hunters separate from the party and follow their progress. “Your pack is protective of you.”
Ewald glanced over his shoulder as if seeing them for the first time and smiled. “Yes, and I of them.”
“Really?” He sat and stretched his aching legs. “You protect your pack?”
“As should we all. They’ve entrusted us with their well-being after all.”
Benic hid his smile behind a cough. Someone had taken his school lessons very seriously. “That’s commendable. I respect a vampire who sees beyond the fur and into the people behind the beasts.” He really did. Especially after witnessing today’s atrocities in the slave quarter. He only had the power to save two shifters, though he wished he had more. His gaze traveled to Weis.
What had happened to that bastard that he could allow things to go so bad in his city?
“You really think that, Lord Benic? I was beginning to think that idealism lost in the New World, especially after my visit to a slave compound this morning.”
Benic spun so quickly he teetered and almost fell off his seat. Too much wine did wonders for his own grace. He chuckled as he righted himself.
Ewald steadied him with his hand. “The wine is good tonight. Lord Weis didn’t spare any expense.”
“What are we celebrating exactly?” He took a few deep breaths to clear his head.
“It’s to introduce me to the local houses. I think Lord Weis is trying to convince me to go back home. He doesn’t like the idea of my going west.” Ewald crossed his legs and leaned against the back of the bench.
“Why do you want to go west? There’s only death and pain out there.”
“And land.”
“You have to protect that land. How much of a pack followed you from home?” He eyed the hunters who kept their distance. How many hunters hid in the bushes unseen, guarding this fool? And more importantly, why?
“Three-quarters of my father’s pack followed me across the ocean, Lord Benic.” He met his gaze with a confident stare. “I’ve been called a fool to my face by greater vampires than you or Lord Weis. I appreciate his concern for my family’s line but it will go on if I’m here or in Europa.”
Benic blinked slowly and cleared his view of Ewald. Not so stupid, but maybe a younger version of myself. He laughed again but it came out a little too loud and shrill. He clapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry. You just reminded me of someone.”
He grinned. “I hope they’re still alive to tell the tale.”
“He’s sitting right next to you.” Benic sat back next to Ewald and rested his arm over the young lord’s shoulder.
The hunters drew closer as soon as his arm made c
ontact.
“The West is filled with danger. The stories you hear about the wild shifter tribes out west are either true or not embellished enough.” He shook his head at the hunters, making it clear he meant no harm. “They love you. How did you do that? Look at how worried they are that I’m touching you.”
Ewald plucked his arm off his shoulder. “Don’t torture them. They are worried. I’m their ticket to land. Things in Europa have been getting…crowded. The packs fight over territory all the time. Hunting lands dwindle to make way for more farms. They don’t want to hunt cattle trapped in a pen. They want to be wolves.” He sighed. “Can you blame them for following me when I’m offering them their dream?”
Once again Benic blinked. Maybe he shouldn’t have drank so much. He poked Ewald in the shoulder to make sure he wasn’t a figment of the wine. “Fine, I understand why they came. Why did you come?”
He shrugged. “The wolves aren’t the only ones who are tired of being confined. Our people used to be hunters once. Now we raise our own cattle.” He gestured to the garden filled with shifters. “I never said I’d stay out west forever. That’s a long time for our kind. But I’ll help them settle a place of their own and learn to be…I don’t know, more feral.” His fanged grin held an edge that he’d seen in other vampires who’d gone native.
“Ewald?” A petite female shifter approached them. Her dress clung to curves that would make any male in the garden howl at the moon. Midnight hair to rival Ahote’s piled high on her head in a vampire fashion he didn’t see too often on this side of the ocean. She curtsied. “Sorry, my lord, but I was promised a dance.”
“Lord Benic, may I present my concubine, Pemma.”
He rose and took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Enchanté.”
“Merci.” Her smile held all sorts of promises yet her downcast eyes told him of her omega nature.
“You’re a very lucky vampire, Ewald, to have such a lovely dancing companion.”
The fool chuckled. “Then please, take her out on the dance floor. She’s danced me all out this evening.”
Scent of Valor (Chronicles of Eorthe #2) Page 17