Lyell Tremaine stared at me for a full minute, his grey eyes considering. “What do you propose?”
I turned to Nick and Rafe. “Can you guys go back to your room? And if you leave, Zeff and Kenyon should leave too.”
“Agreed.” Lyell and Lucas said simultaneously.
I watched the four men leave, closing the door quietly behind them.
“Does this meet your requirements?” Ben murmured.
“No.” I smiled at Marianne, who was watching me with concern apparent in her features. “Marianne, I know you had nothing to do with this bun fight, but I also need less people in here. Why don't you and Striker go back to your room and I'll see you after this is over.”
Marianne grinned. “Sure you don't want my stupendous fortune telling ability?”
“Yep, I'm sure.”
Marianne laughed and grabbed Striker's hand, skipping daintily past the werewolves and out the door. I turned to Lyell. “Can Ralph leave now, please.”
Lyell nodded to Ralph Torres and Ralph looked over at me with a pleasant smile. “Charlotte, it's been a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for what you've shared with me about my father.” He departed the room.
I rubbed at my temples, closing my eyes as I contemplated the situation I found myself in. My head was thumping, my body ached and I was sick to death of people pulling at me as if I was some sort of human piñata. I looked across to Conal and he returned the look, his black eyes heated with some strong emotion, which wasn't anger, but I didn't want to give him any false hope for anything else.
“Conal, you and I have shared some intense moments in the past week and I'd like to think we will always be good friends. But I don't love you the way you want and what you just said was completely unfair and uncalled for. I'd like you to leave.”
“I will not leave my father alone here with two vampires,” Conal responded solemnly.
“Your father will be perfectly safe.” I turned to Lucas and he regarded me seriously. “Lucas, I need some space. I love you, but you can't protect me from every little thing. I need to fight my own battles sometimes. What you were saying a few minutes ago made me feel more like a possession than the woman you love. Please leave.”
“I'm not leaving, Charlotte. I am leader of my Kiss and will negotiate with the Tremaine Pack.”
“Not while you're acting like a possessive fool, you're not. Ben can handle it, he's not as emotionally involved as you are and I know you trust him.” I sighed, brushing my fingers through my hair. “I kissed Conal. I know it was wrong and I'm so sorry I hurt you. But I can't change what happened and you can't look at this situation logically because you're jealous of him. It would be better for me if you and Conal both left.”
For a long moment, I thought he would refuse, then he stepped towards me and squeezed my shoulder. “I apologize, my love. I let my temper and my emotions get the better of me.” He dropped his hand and strode towards the door and a second later, Conal followed him.
I waited until the door quietly clicked shut and then turned to Lyell and Ben, my shoulder slumping with fatigue. “Now I'm satisfied. Can I please have some coffee and perhaps we could sit down and talk this through rationally, without all the anger and resentment and mistrust?”
Chapter 13: Pacts
Ben ordered coffee from room service and it arrived hot, steaming and strong. I sipped from my cup, feeling better immediately. Lyell had joined me for coffee and he sat opposite me in one of the armchairs, the cup gripped between his hands.
Ben sat in the other armchair and he and Lyell both faced me. Ben's fangs had finally retracted, which made me feel better. I'd curled up on the couch, needing to rest. I was still reeling from the events of the past hour – the name-calling, the screaming, the stress – it was more than I was ready to deal with after a week of captivity. Ben had given me Tylenol to counteract the headache and in conjunction with caffeine, I was beginning to feel more human.
The two men spoke quietly together, getting to know one another. They traded questions and answers, giving me time to settle after my angry outburst. Lyell seemed to be gaining confidence in Ben's integrity; Ben had spoken at length about the Tine Kiss' lifestyle and his employment as a social worker, which had impressed Lyell. Ben had explained their desire to abstain from drinking human blood and Lyell had questioned him extensively about their decision. In turn, Lyell had explained the intricacies of his pack, how they were gradually declining in numbers due to a lack of full-blooded werewolves mating with each other. This explained Conal needing to marry another purebred werewolf, rather than choosing a human or half-breed werewolf mate.
More ground had been gained in the fifteen minutes that they'd spoken together, than in the hour when everyone had been here.
I took a deep breath when there was a lull in the conversation and spoke. “It seems to me we need some sort of agreement between the vampires and the werewolves.”
“Yes,” Lyell agreed. “I know this world is strange and new to you, but I imagine you can see why it's difficult for us to trust each other. We have been enemies…”
“For a millennia.” I sighed heavily. “Yeah, I got that.”
Ben smiled indulgently. “Charlotte sees things in black and white, Lyell. She feels there must be a simple solution to this.”
“We can't trust the vampires, Charlotte,” Lyell said slowly. “If they create you into vampire, the power you have now could multiply tenfold. You could be used to create a spirit army, to do their bidding.”
“I'm not going to be created,” I repeated stubbornly.
“You may not have a choice,” Lyell argued, though his voice remained calm. “What if you're created against your will?”
I turned to Ben. “What does happen? Would I automatically do your bidding?” As much as I hated the idea, I'd never asked these questions.
Ben shook his head. “Ultimately, your existence as vampire is dictated by how you lived your human life. Creation takes three days, after which you rise. For the first twelve to twenty four months, you are classified as a newborn. During that time, you are driven by your thirst for blood and little else. At no time could you be forced to do another vampire's bidding. Your decision making process is still your own.” He smiled warmly. “Ripley created Acenith, as you well know, to save her life. Have you noticed Acenith doing exactly what Ripley tells her?”
I smiled back, thinking over his statement. It was true, Acenith was gentle and quiet, but she certainly had a mind of her own and I'd seen her and Ripley together many times – she had her own opinions and wouldn't let Ripley; or anyone else for that matter, sway her when her mind was made up.
“What about the mind abilities?” Lyell argued. “What about if a vampire controls her with his mind?”
“Charlotte is not susceptible to our abilities. Something to do with her gift, I believe.”
I was surprised by this admission and looked at Ben accusingly. “You've tried to use your mind-tricks on me?”
He had the good grace to look bashful. “Tried, but failed. About the only thing we can do is hide our natural eye color from you. Even that, Lucas can't do.”
“Why would you do that?”
“An experiment, Charlotte. We've all found your ability to be truly remarkable. Ripley suggested a few little experiments to see if we could use the power of suggestion with you, plant ideas in your mind.”
“And?” I demanded.
“A complete failure. You are immune to us.”
Pushing the thought of murdering Ripley to one side, I turned to Lyell. “Do you believe him?”
Lyell shrugged, leaning forward to place his cup on the coffee table before he spoke. “I'd like to believe him, but I have generations of history affecting my judgment. I need proof you won't use your ability against my pack.”
My attention was caught by a voice in my head, shouting for attention. It was Lyell's great-grandfather and I listened to what he had to say. “Lyell, your great-grandfather is suggestin
g a blood pact between you and me. It's a special ceremony you haven't used in decades, but it will bind us and make me a Sister of the Pack. Even if I was created, which I can assure you will never happen, I'd be duty bound to protect the members of the Tremaine pack.”
“No, Charlotte,” Ben protested. “You have shed enough blood, more than enough in the past couple of months.”
I glanced at the scars on my chest, touched the bruises on my cheek. “Do you honestly think a little more blood and another scar will make much difference?”
Lyell thought about my suggestion, his forehead furrowed. “I think it would work. Normally it would be done between the leaders of the respective packs.” He turned to Ben. “In this case, is that possible?”
“I don't believe it would be considered a true blood sharing. The blood in our bodies is not our own, it comes from our feeding and dissipates quickly,” Ben responded quietly. “Does this pact continue from father to son? If something happened to you as pack leader, would the pack be required to honor the agreement made here tonight, if we were to agree?”
Lyell nodded. “The blood pact is a permanent commitment between my pack and your Kiss. No matter who leads us, he and Charlotte are considered blood relatives and it's completely binding unless the parties involved mutually agree to disband the pact. Only then, with agreement from both, can the pact be dissolved. May I go downstairs and speak with my people? They need to witness it. You will require witnesses also. At least two.”
“Blood— as you can imagine, it's an issue for us. I will need to talk with Lucas before our witnesses can be named.”
“Agreed.”
I nodded brusquely. “Okay, let's do this.”
Lyell stood and left the room, closing the door silently behind him and Ben regarded me gravely. “Charlotte, there must be another solution. I don't like to see you hurt more than you already have been.”
“Ben, I want to go home. I'm tired and I'm frightened. I have to make this right, so I won't have to worry constantly about the Tremaine werewolves coming after me. This way, they can't hurt me.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “Phelan Walker could be an enemy – he wanted me killed to keep their pack safe. If he accepts me being a Sister of the Pack, well, that's one less person I need to watch my back with.”
Ben nodded, much to my relief. “If you insist, Charlotte. But Lucas isn't going to like it.”
“This is the best solution for all of us,” I responded, my voice calmer than my nerves. “Lucas has to accept it, whether he likes it or not.”
“I'll go and speak with him and the others. Stay in the room, don't open the door.”
After he left, I stood for a moment in the silence, relishing the peace. I wandered out onto the balcony to view the lights. Now seemed as good a time as any to contemplate what I'd just volunteered to do.
Leaning on the balcony railing, I enjoyed the balmy breeze, which lifted my hair as I watched the traffic on the street far below. I didn't relish the idea of being a blood sister, but what choice was there? Even if I started running now, I was too deep into this bizarre world. I couldn't hide from them and would never be safe without their assistance. My psychic ability was known now and couldn't be hidden any longer. Lucas was right; the only people who knew of my ability were congregated in this hotel and back in Montana. Everyone else who'd discovered it was dead. With the pact in place, I would be safe. Safe to continue my life with Lucas and that's where I wanted to be. Despite the dangers living with him and the others might entail, I couldn't imagine life without them.
“Charlotte, you aren't honestly going to do this?” Lucas stood in the doorway, his eyes filled with fury. “I can't allow it.”
“It's not your decision to make. It's mine,” I stated, lifting my chin defiantly. “I'm going to go through with the blood pact with Lyell Tremaine. It will keep us safe.”
He blinked, his eyes widening. His lips twitched. “Now it's you, keeping us safe?”
“Someone's got to do it,” I said heavily. “And as I'm the only one on our side who can provide her own blood…”
Lucas crossed his arms over his chest. “You aren't doing this because you are angry with me, are you?”
“I'm not angry with you.”
“You seemed angry. When you kicked me out, you seemed very angry.”
I grinned. “I didn't kick you out, I asked you to leave. That's different. There was too much testosterone pumping in that room, between you and Conal.”
“He is absolutely in love with you,” Lucas stated quietly. “His feelings for you are almost as strong as my own.”
I walked across and touched his cheek. “He may be in love with me, but I'm completely in love with you.”
Lucas pulled me into his arms. “I know that, yet I still find myself insanely jealous every single time he looks in your direction.” He lowered his head, capturing my lips against his in a breathtaking kiss. When he pulled away, he spoke again, his voice low. “He can give you what I can't.”
“I don't want what he can give me. I want you,” I said obstinately. “All I want is you.”
“Are you sure?” Lucas searched my eyes, his own troubled. “It seems you are constantly in trouble since you've been with me.”
“Did you hear what I told you about my life before I met you?” I asked incredulously. “I killed my stepfather; saw my mother and siblings murdered. That hardly rates as keeping out of trouble.”
Lucas sighed. “No, I suppose it doesn't. But I don't like the idea of your blood being spilled. Enough has been spilled to last a lifetime.”
“It's a little cut, it's nothing,” I stated confidently.
“Still,” Lucas said doubtfully. His eyes grazed across the visible scars on my chest. “I don't want you to be hurt anymore.”
“I'll be fine.” The others had begun appearing in the room behind him. “You'd better go.”
“I'm staying with you.”
I bit my lip anxiously. “I'd like you to be here with me. But blood… my blood – I don't think we should push our luck.”
“I can hear your heart racing – you're frightened,” he stated quietly. “If I were a proper boyfriend, I would stay to offer you strength and support.”
I caught his hand in mine and started tugging him inside. “You are a proper boyfriend. You just happen to be a vampire. Vampires and blood – not a good combination. Go. It'll be over soon and I expect you to offer me sympathy and lots of kisses and cuddles to make me feel better.”
Lucas came to a standstill and his eyes hardened. I followed his gaze to where Conal stood near his father. The two men glowered at one another, antagonism clear in their eyes. “If he's staying, I'm staying,” Lucas said resolutely.
“Lucas, this is ridiculous,” I muttered, tugging on his arm. It was the equivalent of trying to move a block of solid granite - completely impossible, yet I had to try. The thought of him being here when my blood was being spilled was nerve-racking, enough to cause my anxiety to worsen. “Go and wait with Nick's boys.”
“No.” He stood immobile, his eyes focused on Conal.
Ben overheard our hushed discussion and came to join us. “What's the matter?”
“Lucas is insisting on staying.” I sighed heavily, wondering what I could say to convince him I'd be okay without him. The look on his face was determined, his eyes darkened with anger.
“You should not be here,” Ben said.
“I am leader of the Tine Kiss. My place is here.”
“Lucas…” Ben began quietly.
Lucas turned on him. “I choose to stay.” His tone made it obvious he wouldn't be changing his mind.
“There'll be blood, Lucas. It isn't wise, not when you're struggling with your reaction to Charlotte already.”
“I'm staying.”
Ben put a cautioning hand on Lucas's shoulder. “You can keep control?”
Lucas glanced down at me and put his arm around my waist protectively. “I will. I can control this.”
Marianne sidled up to us. “Lucas…”
“Marianne, I love you like a sister. But don't tell me what to do,” Lucas snapped.
With a sigh, Marianne turned to me, her anxiety written in her eyes. “Are you okay with this?”
I could see the tension in Lucas's features, the stubborn set to his jaw. I knew he was determined to do this, to prove himself to me. “I'm okay.”
Lucas pulled me close against his side, pressing a brief kiss against my mouth. “I promise you, my Charlotte. I will do nothing to harm you.”
“We're ready,” Lyell announced.
He stood at one side of the coffee table, his pack spread around him in a half circle. All the men had come back, including Phelan Walker. He greeted me solemnly, keeping his eyes downcast. “I will perform the ceremony. It was last performed by my ancestor and I will perform it now with honor befitting my pack.”
Too terrified to speak, I nodded my agreement instead. A huge bowie knife, its handle intricately carved with symbols sat on the coffee table. A small bowl sat beside it, which I assumed was to collect the blood. Looking at it a second time, I swallowed nervously – despite its size, I imagined it could hold a whole lot of blood. I glanced at Jerome, who'd joined us and he nodded encouragingly, although his face belied his apprehension. His medical bag was sitting beside the coffee table in preparation, which did nothing to reduce my nerves.
Ben, Marianne, Lucas and Nick, along with the Tremaine pack, gathered around the table and I took my place beside Lyell. Phelan Walker picked up the huge knife and began chanting, his words foreign to me. He pointed the knife towards Lyell Tremaine, resting the blade against his forehead then turned to me, repeating the process. My heart thumped nervously – it was only an hour or so ago that this man had wanted to use a knife to kill me – and it took all my reserves of willpower to remain motionless. Relief swamped me as Phelan pulled the knife away and held it in both hands. Raising it above his head, his intonation continued.
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