“Yes.” Her gaze fell mournfully to the ground.
“How could you do it, Jade? How could you have allowed it to happen?”
“I-I didn’t allow it to happen,” she defended halfheartedly, thinking of how she trapped Tyr in the cave and forced him to bite her. Looking back, what exactly had she expected him to do? Let her die? She should’ve known better.
“You could’ve resisted,” Rick spat. “You could’ve refused to drink his blood.”
Jaden looked at him. A dark, bitter chuckle escaped her tired throat. She wouldn’t defend herself to him. He would never be able to understand the body’s forceful cling to life in that last instant of death.
Bitterly, she countered, “You drugged me, left me helpless. If not for you, I wouldn’t have been in the position I was in.”
Rick choked with guilt. “Then it is true? Oh, God, Jaden, I am so sorry. Mack said that he ill-used you and—”
Jaden softened. She shook her head. “No, I was treated better than could be expected.”
He shot her a look of utter disbelief.
“It’s not your fault, Rick,” she amended, sorry that she had lashed out in anger at him. She could never hate Rick, could never blame him. “He was coming for me that night. I wouldn’t have been able to fight him off. You saved me the humiliation of trying. I should thank you.”
“But, both of us—together,” he offered.
“No,” she said firmly. Rick couldn’t see her sad smile in the darkness. “Not a whole army of us. Whatever has happened or will happen, you must promise me not to blame yourself. My fate was sealed long before we met.”
“What happened to you, Jade? What changed between us?” Rick bemoaned the loss of his love. “I could’ve made you happy.”
“I can’t make myself happy,” Jaden said under her breath. “What makes you think you could’ve done so?”
“I—”
“No,” she broke in. “My whole life has been a mistake. Mack tricked my mother into becoming pregnant with me and then he killed her when she turned into a vampire to be with my father. My uncle has manipulated my entire life. He hasn’t allowed happiness in it. He took my family from me. You couldn’t have changed all of that, Rick.”
“I should have never trusted Mack,” Rick stated in dejection. Seeing that she didn’t move to bite him, he relaxed. Rubbing his head, he drew up to sit against the hard, damp wall.
“I know,” she said sadly. “I, too, foolishly trusted him. He is the reason I am. He is the reason I was born. He worked a spell over my parents and he has molded and raised me to do his bidding. Out of all of us, I am his most favorite puppet. And like a puppet, I was led like a child by my strings.”
“When did you start to suspect?” Rick pressed his fingers into his temple finding dry blood.
“New Orleans,” she whispered, crawling close to him. Rick eyed her cautiously, but allowed her to sit next to him. There was no warmth in her, just the coolness of the stone reflected on her skin. “I knew I couldn’t trust him in New Orleans.”
“What happened that night?” Rick watched her, flinching when she lifted her fingers to touch his wound. Gingerly, she probed it. “You changed so much after that. Were you truly so mad at me for stomping on your turf? I’ve racked my brain a thousand times and so help me I can’t figure it out. Duncan was a loser. He deserved to die.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Duncan was a loser and did deserve to die. But he didn’t die in New Orleans. He died later in New York.”
“Then—”
“My father,” she whispered with a mournful pant. “I killed my father in New Orleans.”
“Oh,” Rick blew softly in surprise. He let the news sink in. It made sense. Mack had been so insistent that they go and help her. Giving them a load of crap about her getting emotionally involved. “Jade, I’m so sorry. But you didn’t kill him. Mack did. I did. I am the one who didn’t listen. I’m the one who called for the sunlight.”
Jaden swallowed. Wearily, she laughed through her unending pain. “Trying to comfort the vampire, Rick? That isn’t like you.”
Rick narrowed his eyes, trying to see her clearly in the darkness. He reached for her, pulling her to his chest against his better judgment. Jaden drank in his comfort, feeling nothing beyond friendship in his hold. Rick squashed his feelings, finally realizing what he wanted could never be. Jaden was lost to him. Lightly stroking her hair, he said, “We’ve been in many scrapes, you and me. So how are we going to get out of this one?”
“I don’t think we are,” Jaden whispered. “It’s already too late for me.”
Rick nodded in understanding. There was no escape from this hell. They weren’t fit to fight the council and Mack wouldn’t be coming for them. Easily, the vampires had overtaken the best of Mack’s mortal army. They had been foolish to think they could make a difference under such unfair odds. Until now, they had been fighting vampire babies—weak newborns without the eternity of skill the older ones possessed. Only horrors awaited them outside their prison walls—torment and pain. Death was preferable to both.
“But if I can help it, your end will be easy,” Jaden whispered soothingly.
“You won’t let them turn me,” Rick said.
It wasn’t a question, not even a request. Jaden felt his heart beat speed beneath her cheek. She felt the strength he tried hard to cling onto. Rick was a good man. He deserved better than this. If he hadn’t come after her, he wouldn’t have been captured, waiting for the end like a wrongly accused prisoner on death row.
“Promise me you’ll kill me,” Rick insisted, “I’d prefer it if it was you.”
“Yes,” she agreed. Her lips opened to bite. Rick knew what was coming, could sense it in her gaze as she lifted up from his arms. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to expose his neck to her. Jaden’s hand raised to his cup his face, gentle and soothing to his warm skin.
Inside, they felt their heartbeats joining. Jaden’s lips caressed his hot skin in a tender kiss, not hurting him as she ran her lips and tongue over his neck, relaxing him. His hand lifted to her waist, smoothing over her hip. She felt his throat working. Rick shivered beneath her, tensing slightly as he awaited her bite. Whispering against his skin, she vowed, “I won’t let them turn you.”
* * *
Tyr rose from his knees, having bowed gracefully before the council, as was the long-clung-to tradition from the time of his turning. Walking to Ragnhild, he placed his hand on the old vampire’s shoulder. The greeting was returned by his maker.
Ragnhild’s eyes glowed softly as he nodded in approval of his knight. In truth, their ages were separated by only a few hundred years. At the time of Tyr’s making, it had made all the difference. But now, after they both traveled the centuries well past a millennium, the age difference was minuscule and they held each other in the well-tried affection of brothers.
After a similar greeting had passed with the other attending knights to their respective tribal leaders, the vampire soldiers moved to face the council, standing at attention behind Pietro. Tyr held rigid between Shiva and Ares. His undead eyes stared forward with detached responsibility. He didn’t look over the familiar old stones, having stood thus many times over the years in judgment of mortals and immortals alike. Never before had his stomach tightened in repulsion of that duty. Never had he felt anything for the one standing trial. Before now, it was only a job he had done. He knew what was to come. But knowing didn’t make it easier.
“You have brought the dhampir?” Theophania asked quietly. Though her lips moved as she spoke, it wouldn’t have been necessary. They could all hear her in their heads.
“Yes,” Tyr answered in an even tone. No sentiment showed on the contrasted faces in the chamber. The unearthly gazes cast over statuesque features that echoed an aching beauty, beheld the knights with a strange mix of boredom and anticipation. “And one of MacNaughton’s mortal soldiers.”
“What has taken you so long?” Pietro growled
, his eyes narrowing as he spun in his chair to glare at Tyr and the others. “Why are you late?”
“All in due time, Pietro,” Theophania scolded with a pretty pout on her crimson-stained lips. She looked around the table. The Moroi were not represented, but all others were present. Amon and Vishnu nodded in silent agreement of her decree. Pietro turned his eyes to the center flame to brood. They dismissed him easily. Ragnhild lifted his chin with pride.
“Tyr’s delay is not important,” the Drauger leader said in a stern tone. “His loyalty shouldn’t be questioned. Nor should his judgment.”
“It is not,” Chara said easily with a purse of her cherry lips. Andrei smiled adorningly at her, reaching absently in her direction as if he could touch her over the distance. Ragnhild shot Pietro a challenging glare.
Pietro met the yellowish eyes focusing on him as they awaited his response. Grimly, he muttered, “My apologies, Tyr. You are a faithful servant to the tribes.”
Tyr nodded in acceptance of the old vampire’s words. Pietro didn’t turn to watch, unconcerned with the knight’s thoughts.
“Continue,” Ragnhild directed.
“As ordered, I have been trying to discover which vampires have been assisting MacNaughton in his crimes against our tribes,” Tyr said.
“And,” Theophania urged.
“The one called Duncan was helping him to change mortals into vampires for a fee. He also assisted MacNaughton’s men in capturing and tracking other young ones. I read it in him and put him to death,” Tyr said quietly.
“Good,” Chara murmured in approval.
“Was he alone in it?” Vishnu asked, her words clipped short.
“He was the one turning mortals for MacNaughton’s pleasure,” Tyr restated. The council nodded in acceptance. The other knights held still. “Duncan was not aware of any others that MacNaughton might have employed. He thought himself to be a god. I showed him how little he truly was.”
“And what do you suspect, Tyr?” Theophania asked quietly.
“Yes,” Chara added. “Do you think Duncan was alone in his deceit?”
“No.” Tyr’s admission was soft. He couldn’t avoid answering the direct question, but didn’t feel the need to elaborate.
“Before we send for the dhampir,” Amon said with a stark bite to his tone. His low voice rumbled with the primitive beat of his homeland. “What is your judgment of her? What have you discovered?”
“As suspected, she is responsible for the death of Bhaltair,” Tyr said. His eyes looked coldly at each of the leaders in turn as he spoke. His stomach twitched. He refused to let them feel his turmoil. He swallowed it into his gut. He felt Shiva’s eyes on him as he spoke. Tyr ignored his friend’s mild disapproval in the curtness of his tale. Tyr had revealed to him the whole story while they traveled. Unable to bear Shiva’s continued censure, he added, “She didn’t kill him, but she did track him and stake him in the chest to slow him for others.”
“Then she shall be executed,” Vishnu acknowledged with ease. Tyr stiffened at the vampiress’s easy dismal of Jaden’s life. It was as he had expected, but he was not ready to hear the words. “And what of Alan MacNaughton?”
“No, Vishnu,” Amon whispered. She turned surprisingly to him. “Let us hear from the dhampir before we condemn her. I am very curious to hear what she has to say for herself.”
Amon’s keen senses had picked up on the underlying thread of emotion passing between Shiva and Tyr. He didn’t trust the complete lack of sentiment coming from the Drauger knight. It was unusual for even the hardest of them to feel so little. Tyr was hiding something and Amon was determined to discover what that was.
Tyr kept his blank eyes looking forward. He felt himself being probed.
“Yes,” Ragnhild said quietly. “The reports about her have been conflicted. It is said she spares as much as she kills.”
“And,” Theophania added, “she might know more of her uncle. We should at least explore her before we kill her.”
“Osiris,” Amon commanded. “What happened on the beach tonight?”
Osiris quickly gave an accounting of the brief battle. The leaders nodded in approval. All except for Pietro, who stared lifelessly at the center flame. Finishing, Osiris said, “MacNaughton was not with them.”
“Well done,” Theophania said. “Your loyalty is duly noted by this council.”
“Yes,” Chara said, her eyes roaming over the handsome vampire knights. Licking her lips like a kitten contemplating which saucer of milk to drink from, she murmured seductively, “Well done.”
“Ares, Aleksander,” Amon said. “Your duty is done this night. You may go and seek your leisure. After meeting with Chara and Pietro, you may leave the island.”
The two knights nodded, gliding from the room. Amon turned his attention to Osiris.
“Osiris,” Amon ordered. “Gather the dhampir. Bring her here and then you too may retire.”
Osiris nodded, before he too strode from the council hall in a flash of black clothing.
“Tyr, Shiva,” Amon acknowledged when the others had gone. “You shall stay to add insight to this judgment. You have been in the company of this woman and surely have read her. Dhampirs can be deceitful in their emotions and thoughts. Reading them is tricky until you learn their manner.”
Tyr and Shiva bowed their heads in acquiescence and didn’t move. Tyr felt his pulse slow as he forced his eyes from the door from whence Jaden would come. His mind told him he didn’t care about her, that she was already dead to him, as she would surely soon be to the world. His mind was answered by his heart that it was all a lie.
* * *
“Someone is coming. I think it’s time.” Jaden whispered to herself. She lifted her head from Rick’s shoulder. The man didn’t attempt to stop her. His arms lay completely motionless at his sides.
Standing, she lightly closed her lips over her teeth, as she blocked Rick from view. She felt his shallow breathing behind her. She didn’t have it in her to kill him quite yet, not when there was a small thread of hope. So she’d used all her strength to lull him to sleep. Now, though, she wondered if that was the right decision. A knight she recognized from the skirmish on the beach threw open the door. Reaching his hand to her, he motioned lightly with his fingers that she was to follow him.
“Come, dhampir,” he ordered coldly.
“What is going to happen to this man?” Jaden stepped forward, obeying the beckoning of his golden hand. His tightly curled black hair was bound back at his neck, threaded tight with black beadwork so it didn’t fall.
“Nothing as of right now,” he answered.
She entered an old stone passageway. The prison door shut firmly behind her with a clink. She blinked slowly, her only reaction to the chilling noise. Torches gave the old hall light. Spiders spun webs over the iron sconces, so thickly it was as if they alone held the metal in place. The patterns fluttered in the stagnant air as the immortals passed, holding dust tight in their fold.
Her feet echoed softly on the irregular rock, the only noise as the knight moved silently before her. His feet touched the ground but his gait was so unusually light for one of his size that it whispered softly over the stone. Self-consciously, she moved her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth the tangled, wayward length. Tucking her longer tresses behind her ear, she wiped at her cheeks, hoping to add a semi-pleasing hue to the ashen features. She knew she looked a fright.
At the end of the long tunnel, past numerous unmarked doors that resembled the one Rick was behind, the knight stopped. Jaden felt a presence behind some of the prison doors. She knew that only a vampire with honed senses could pull apart the emotions coming from within—some angry, some desperate, some dying and already dead. For a vampire there was no need to mark the doors. Each scent that wafted vividly from the prisoners marked its owner as no word could.
Pulling open a thick oak door at the end of the passageway, the Dark Knight stepped aside to let her go by. The entryway was blocked
by thick velvet drapes, ironically dyed to the bloodiest of reds. Jaden hesitated, glancing at the vampire’s immoveable face and dispassionate eyes before turning back to the doorway. Her vision held tight the softness of the velvet, seeing the innocent brush of texture spreading over the surface like rolling wheat.
Jaden’s legs turned to jelly, her stomach filled with immovable lead. The knight’s golden features showed a whispering movement as he nodded at the drapery. His hand swept forward slowly, beckoning her to move on alone.
Closing her eyes, Jaden pushed forward. Her hand sought the soft red only to slide through the velvet, hitting cooler air. Leading with her hand, she stepped between the soft barriers as they brushed erotically over her heightened skin. Her gaze drifted open, unable to remain shut at such a dire time. She was met with the soft orange glow of firelight on gray stone. Across the way, her eyes focused on a mosaic of a medieval vampire mid-bite.
She sensed eyes focusing in on her, knew if she turned her gaze only slightly to the side she would see the faces holding those dangerous eyes. She refused to look. Guilt overwhelmed her as she thought of her father, of her life. She tried to fight it, tried her best to hide it away, but the council leaders sensed it easily. Just as she knew they would find the emotions in her, she also knew they would never be able to understand them.
Bowing her head, Jaden stepped forward. She was in the most sacred hall of the vampire, the hall of wisdom and centuries. She was to have her life torn apart and analyzed, summed up and judged. She was set out to slaughter before the dreaded tribal elders, the oldest known killers in existence. And not one of them was happy to see her.
Chapter Fourteen
The tribal elders held quiet in the great hall, each studying and probing the accused dhampir before them. They waited for her to react, unwilling to break her telling silence. Part of their curious pleasure was waiting to see if she would break as so many before her had.
The Jaded Hunter Page 24