The emotion in her voice cut like a knife through Saint's heart. He stepped forward to stand with Solenne, but as he wrapped his arm around her, she slipped out of his hold.
"Teagan! How can this be?" she cried as she threw her arms around his neck. "They said you were dead. I felt you leave this world. How?"
"That's the magic of New Orleans voodoo, love. I'm anything but dead."
Saint's gaze met Vasilije's and he saw the smirk grow on his face. Fucking Romanian!
"Incredible, wouldn't you say, Saint?"
Incredible wasn't the word he'd use to describe his brother rising from the dead. Impossible seemed more appropriate.
Saint heard Teagan ask, "No welcome for your long lost brother?" and he looked over to see him with his arm around Solenne, who seemed at home next to him after all their years apart. The closeness between them made Saint's stomach knot, and everything he and Solenne had just shared seemed to evaporate before his eyes.
"I'm happy to see you still among the living, Teagan."
His brother—the only family he had left in this world—stood in front of him after nearly one hundred years, and Saint felt the pressure to finally put the past behind him. Solenne's eyes pleaded for him to accept Teagan as she had, and even though jealousy threatened to explode out of him, Saint adored her too much to disappoint her.
"Voodoo trumps the stake then, brother?"
Teagan let out a full laugh and wrapped his arms around him. "You'd be surprised at what that voodoo can do, but no, it can't trump the stake."
"Then what happened? Sasa said that Tatiana woman staked you in front of her right in your house in New Orleans," Solenne said.
Releasing Saint, Teagan backed away and began to explain. "Unfortunately for my friend Jake, Sasa saw him turned to dust that night. Poor guy. He was waiting for me, but that bitch got to him first. I got there to find what she'd done to him and got out quick as I could."
"But I felt you leave this world."
Teagan smiled at Solenne's words. "That's the voodoo. I knew I had to lay low and make Vasilije believe I'd bit it or I'd be in danger, so I quickly worked a little voodoo I'd learned when I first moved to New Orleans. Wild stuff. I guess it worked pretty well, if the look on your face is any indication."
"Whatever you did, it's good to know I didn't lose another one of my favorites," Vasilije said.
Saint felt like an intruder among them. They were all connected, more it seemed than he was to his own flesh and blood. Sire who'd begat a vampire turned sire who'd begat the woman he loved.
And he was a mere brother, something history had shown Teagan harbored little respect for.
Solenne touched his hand and he looked down to see where hers joined with his. In his ear, she whispered, "I love you. Thank you for being the bigger man."
Saint looked into her eyes and saw what had been there when she'd been in his arms earlier. "I didn't do it because I'm the bigger man. I did it for you."
"Then I love you even more," she said as she squeezed his hand and stared lovingly into his eyes.
"What are you two whispering about?" Teagan asked, breaking the moment.
"Will you be staying at your sire's house in Romania?" Saint asked before anyone else could answer his brother's question.
Solenne squeezed his hand again and both Vasilije and Teagan appeared confused by his question.
"I'm sure Teagan would like to spend some time with his vampire. And his brother, of course. And you certainly have enough room here, don't you, Solenne?"
Vasilije's phony concern for Teagan's relationship with Solenne made Saint's blood boil. Stroking the back of his hand, she tried to calm him, and Saint remained silent for the moment.
"Of course we do. Declan and I would love to have you stay with us, Teagan."
"It'll be like the old days. Remember our times together, just the three of us?"
Teagan's reminder of the past that linked all of them only served to make Saint uneasy. Every bit as much an intrusive sire as his own, Teagan seemed to have decided to truly reconnect with Solenne. It was his prerogative as her sire, of course, but that didn't make the thought any more welcome in Saint's mind.
"I'll leave you to get reacquainted. Teagan, enjoy yourself, but I want us to talk soon."
Vasilije flashed a satisfied grin and before Saint could remind him about finding a replacement spy for Solenne, he vanished, leaving the three former friends alone.
Together.
Saint watched as Teagan made himself at home, laughing with Solenne about some long forgotten memory and subtly reminding her of her responsibility as his vampire. But no matter how many times he tried to accept it, Saint couldn't.
He was happy his brother wasn't dead. He wasn't happy he was here with them.
His memories of their past together gnawed at him. For him, very few contained anything worth laughing about.
But at least the Romanian was gone.
Padding up behind Solenne, he placed his hand securely on her shoulder as she listened to Teagan explain the voodoo spell he'd used to avoid suffering the same fate as his friend.
"You should see New Orleans, Solenne. It's like nowhere else in the world. I can't wait to get back. If you'd like, I can show you the town."
"Solenne has to go now."
Teagan's brown eyes grew wide and he raised his eyebrows. "Don't worry, Declan. You'd be welcome to come too."
"Thanks. Excuse us for a minute. Go into the kitchen and help yourself to something to eat. I'll be in to join you in a minute."
Saint led Solenne toward the front door, as Teagan headed for the kitchen. Pulling her into an alcove, he held her to him and kissed her possessively.
"What was that for?" she asked sweetly when he lifted his head to look at her.
"Just a little reminder of last night."
He knew he was acting like a jealous ass, but he didn't care. Solenne was his and the fact that his long lost brother returned from the dead was her sire wasn't going to change that.
"Keep those lips ready for when I return from Verrater's. I'm going to want some more reminding."
Solenne stood on her toes and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "And don't forget I love you."
Saint ran his fingers along the length of her hair and fondled the ends. Just hearing those sweet words coming out of her beautiful mouth made his heart pound faster. God, the effect she had on him!
"And I intend on reminding you why when you get back. Just be careful. Do you understand. You don't need to get any deep dark secrets from that bastard tonight."
Her smile seemed forced, and he fought the urge to press her on exactly what went on each time she went to the Archon's office, knowing that if she confirmed the suspicions he held in his mind, he wouldn't let the Archon see another night alive.
"I love you, Declan, darkness and all." Looking past him, she added, "Don't let him get to you."
"Don't worry about Lazarus in there. I wouldn't trade my second chance for his for anything in this world."
Chapter Fifteen
Ramiel and Thane sat quietly at the table that had become their home since arriving at the monastery. Old volumes of Greek and vampire history surrounded them, giving off a musty odor that hung heavy in the cool cellar air. Each man's face showed the exhaustion of their task and the frustration each night presented.
Thane retained a spark of hope, which was rekindled with each sunset, but Ramiel's temperament wasn't so well-suited to their chore, and he chafed at his inability to make any significant progress in the hours they'd spent hunched over ancient scrolls and books.
A sense of desperation filled the room, and Vasilije would have liked to avoid spending any time there, but each Son understood the key to defeating the Archons existed somewhere in those ancient texts and the prophecies of Idolas, the youngest of the eight sons of Navarus and Macaria. Taking a seat next to Thane, he hesitated to interrupt them, but finally said in a low voice, "What can I do?"
&
nbsp; A small smile appeared on Thane's face as he looked up to see Vasilije. "I'm afraid we're no further than before. I'm not sure there's anything you can do."
The resignation in his voice struck Vasilije. One of only four vampires still alive believed to possess an ability to crack the true meaning of the Idolas Prophecies and one of the two Sons saddled with the task, Thane appeared almost as an enigma to the other Sons. Made a vampire in Tudor England, he seemed to be of no particular age or era. His one defining feature, his eyes, projected a sense of warmth and kindness so rare among their kind, yet he remained distant from his fellow Sons, friendly when spoken to but silent for the most part. Of all at the monastery, only Sasa had succeeded in drawing him out of his preferred silence.
Vasilije looked across the table at Ramiel, a very different kind of vampire from Thane. Forever enraged it seemed, he barely contained his frustration with the task he'd had thrust upon him by his sire when he'd left the world over a century ago. Black eyes appeared to burn from anger, making Ramiel an odd complement to Thane in their duty to the entire vampire race. Cursed with an unrelenting rage, confinement of the kind he was forced to endure now was truly more punishment than anything else. His long existence as a vampire had been marked with violence, and Vasilije wondered how long one such as he would be held by the restraint of duty, no matter how important that duty was.
"Ramiel, my offer is a standing one."
He nodded, but said nothing. Known for having the face of an angel, the expression he now wore was cold and hard.
"We have found some parts of the prophecy we can translate, but as of now, they make no sense," Thane said as he rummaged through the books and papers in front of him.
"That's some progress, at least," Vasilije said, feeling more hope than on any of his past visits there. "Perhaps another head added to the job might help?"
Thane spread a book out in front of them and pointed to a passage written in Greek. "In the end of ages at the twilight of years. They rose to heights as great."
"Fucking riddles leading to more riddles," Ramiel mumbled.
Vasilije couldn't disagree, but he truly hoped the look on Thane's face meant he saw something in these lines that they obviously hadn't. "Still sounds like Greek to me."
"I admit it's not much," Thane said.
"Repeat it and maybe something will make sense," Vasilije said, trying to be helpful.
"In the end of ages at the twilight of years..."
"Not a good start," Ramiel said angrily.
"Do you have any idea what this means, Thane?" Vasilije asked.
Shaking his head, he grimaced. "No, but maybe with the next line it'll make some sense. They rose to heights as great."
The silence in the room when he finished the second line was deafening.
"Let's assume for now we won't know what the hell the first line means until we figure out who they are," Ramiel groaned.
"They can only be vampires in general, the Archons, or us," Thane said confidently.
"Or humans."
Thane stared across the table at Ramiel, who seemed to find some rare amusement in their inability to decode even the first two lines. "You're not helping."
"It seems illogical that a vampire prophecy would spend time on humans," Vasilije said. "So which of the other choices do we think work?"
Neither man said anything for a long moment and then Thane finally answered. "Archons."
"So the Archons became powerful. Unfortunately, this is nothing we didn't already know," Vasilije said. "Have you deciphered anything else?"
Thane motioned toward Ramiel. "Read what you've got."
"One born not made will hold the key."
Vasilije took a deep breath and exhaled his frustration. The prophecy's reference to one born and not made was problematic. This very well could refer to a human. On the other hand, it could refer to something many of his kind believed didn't exist anymore, if it ever did. A vampire born to a woman—to a vampire.
"Clear as mud, right? At least this one only has two choices. It's either a human who will hold the key or a born vampire," Ramiel explained.
"Born vampires are believed to have existed because of the eight sons of Navarus and Macaria," Thane said with a hint of optimism in his voice.
"But they were children born from a goddess, Thane. When was the last time that happened?" Vasilije asked.
He didn't want to play the role of devil's advocate, but better to ask these questions now and get them out of the way.
"There are those who believe they were the first but not the last," Thane said with a smile.
Vasilije looked at each man. "Have either of you ever met a born vampire?"
Both shook their heads. For his part, Vasilije wasn't even sure born vampires ever existed in the first place. He'd always considered the story of Navarus and Macaria's children a myth, more symbolic of how vampires came to roam the earth than a literal telling of events.
"But I'd never met a clyten either, Vasilije, and Dante stands with us," Thane replied.
"Ever the optimist, isn't he?" Ramiel said with a grin. "So now all we have to do is translate the rest of these disjointed ideas, figure out what they mean, and find a vampire who was born. Any chance one of us has been holding out? Maybe Saint?"
"No. I was there when he was made vampire. He's not born."
"How does he hold up stuck in the French countryside with a beautiful female?"
"Seems he's a changed man," Vasilije said remembering how he acted toward Solenne.
"And now all of you have been given Teagan back again. Perhaps fortune is on our side," Thane said. "Perhaps this is just the beginning of the Sons' good luck."
***
The lights in Marc Verrater's office were dimmed when Solenne arrived, and even though she wanted more than anything to be safely back home, she worried her absence would arouse suspicion. To fail now would mean disaster for the man she loved, and after waiting for so long to have him back in her life, she wasn't going to let him go without a fight.
There was no sight of Rochelle at her usual perch at the front desk area, so Solenne continued toward her boss's office at the rear of the suite. What sounded like muffled voices told her he was in tonight.
Peaking her head in around the cracked door, she saw Verrater at his desk looking far more relaxed than usual. The door creaked as she stood watching him, and he turned toward her wearing a sinister grin that sent chills down her spine.
"Lena, I've been waiting for you. Come. Sit down."
Solenne hesitated, unnerved by his devilish expression. Why had he been waiting for her? His deep blue eyes watched her, demanding she obey him, and she swallowed hard as she stepped into his office. Each night with him was as frightening as the first.
"Has something happened, sir? I didn't see Rochelle at her desk."
Verrater leaned back in his chair and fondled his black silk tie, stroking it from the knot at his neck all the way down to the tip. "I sent her and the others on an errand."
Something in his voice made it sound edgy. Dangerous. It immediately made her uneasy and everything inside her wanted to run as fast as her legs would take her away from this place. Everything but her heart, that is. Only her heart remembered why she came to this place again and again, forced to endure the pain and humiliation of the Archon.
Struggling to keep her voice even, she asked, "Oh. Do you have any work for me tonight, or would you prefer I waited at Rochelle's desk in case anyone comes in for your assistance?"
"No. Where you are will do just fine."
Solenne understood what he meant and her stomach dropped at the thought.
"First, I thought we'd have a little talk. How does that sound?"
Verrater smiled and she saw the tips of his long white fangs as his lips pulled back in that same vicious grin he'd worn minutes earlier.
"Yes, sir."
"Lena, I've long believed you and I to be quite alike. You possess a mind I can respect, one that can
weigh the consequences and outcomes of one's actions. I can appreciate that in a fellow vampire. Do you understand?"
No, she didn't. While it was true she did have a mind very much like he described, her behavior around him should have told him quite the opposite.
"Thank you, sir."
Unsure what to expect next, she was unnerved when he switched gears to ask about her past. "Tell me about your sire. I'm curious as to whether this ability of yours is innate or the result of a superior sire's training."
Solenne's mind scrambled to recall what lie she'd told about her sire when she'd applied to work in his office. Lucrecia...yes! She'd used the vaguest details of her friendship with her as the basis for her history, sticking to the broad outlines to convince Rochelle she wasn't who she really was.
"My sire is a wonderful woman named Lucrecia. I was truly fortunate to have been turned by such a soul."
The Archon raised one eyebrow in interest and waved his hand for her to continue. The problem was that she wasn't sure where he was leading her with his sudden interest in her background, and something told her one misstep could land her in very dangerous areas.
"She's an ancient, turned in the early days of Rome."
Before she knew it, Verrater's face had turned dark at the mention of Lucrecia as an ancient, and Solenne hastened to add, "But unlike others of her age, she's loyal to the modern ways, sir. I can promise you that."
Seemingly pleased by her assurances, the hardness left his expression and he closed his eyes, a sign Solenne took to mean she should continue.
"I was made a vampire right after the Great War. Lucrecia was very much a modern woman even then."
Slowly, he opened his eyes and leveled his gaze at her. "And why was that?"
"She took to the new ideas very easily, bobbing her hair, hiking her skirt length, and even smoking."
Solenne had no idea when Verrater had been turned, so she couldn't even guess if he knew anything about the 1920s firsthand. Her description of her friend was in actuality a description of herself before becoming vampire. Lucrecia was very much the picture of a classical woman then and now.
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