by A A Mize
The old Notary seemed so sure of himself that Sophie had to reconsider her opinion. She wondered what Rowan had thought of her. So far, his actions toward her had been mixed, laying somewhere between indifferent and protective. But perhaps she had been missing something.
“You really can’t blame him for being the way he is. Rowan’s life has been a long and trying one. What choice has he had but to wall himself up?” Samiell said, resting his hands across his belly.
Sophie took the bait, turning her attentions to Samiell in anticipation of the rest of the story. The old man smiled widely, seemingly satisfied with himself.
“You see, Rowan was actually born Damian de Castillo, first son of a wealthy Spaniard. He had one brother, Sebastian, whom he loved dearly. The boys grew up in luxury, never knowing hunger or want. Although their lives were nearly identical, they became completely different people. Young Damian became the reckless sort, always after the next adventure or skirt to chase. Sebastian became a fine young gentleman, full of humility and respect.” Samiell chuckled when Matthias raised a brow at him. “That’s right. Rowan was once a lot like you. Anyway, when the boys’ father grew ill, he decided that he would give his company to Sebastian, passing up Damian on his birthright. Of course, their father would provide Damian enough wealth that he could live comfortably for the rest of his days, but his brother would be the namesake of the family. Of course, Damian was furious—but also driven.
“Within two years he found a respectable bride, a beautiful lady of wealth and stature, and they had a child together.” Samiell took a sip of his tea to hide his pleased grin. Even Matthias, usually so indifferent to his Mentor’s past, was staring on with intense curiosity.
“One night, in the dead of winter, Damian sat at the bedside of his dying father, only to realize that his change had no effect on his father’s decision. Upon his passing, the estate was still to go to Sebastian. Damian felt betrayed by his father and fled the manor in rage. All night he wandered, taking up old habits in every tavern he could find. In the early hours of the morning, he was found by his brother, drunk, in a tavern.
“Sebastian was dirty, covered in soot, his cheeks streaked with tears. Their family home had burned to the ground shortly after Damian left. Everything was gone. Most of the family was dead, including Damian’s wife and young child. In his grief, Damian fled Spain. Eventually, Sebastian and what was left of the family rebuilt and grew their wealth once more, but Damian was never allowed to return. Many of them suspected that in his anger he had set fire to the home. Only Sebastian held faith in his brother and tried to help him, but Damian declined. For a time, he wandered as a sailor until he was found by the Turned Elder by the name of Horus. Damian gained favor with his new friend and was offered the gift of immortality. Lonely and craving companionship, he accepted Horus’ gift, to wander the Earth until this very day where he is a respected member of our society, as he had wanted to be in life,” Samiell said, finishing his story.
“Did he do it? Burn the house down?” Matthias asked.
“No. He’s quite adamant that he didn’t. He says he’s unsure of what happened after he left the house and although his anger and disappointment led him to some unsavory places that night, he did love his wife and child. I can’t believe he would have killed them.”
“What happened after that? I mean, after Horus Turned him?” Sophie asked.
“Dear, that’s five hundred years to recount and I’m not sure how much of it Rowan is willing to let others know. What I’ve already told you might be too much, so if you would be so kind as to keep this between us, I would be grateful,” Samiell requested.
A car alarm down the street made Sophie and Matthias jump and turn their attention back to the window. Sarah opened the curtains wide enough for them to see outside. The lights all along the street had gone out and the group stared into the night with little other illumination than the light pollution of the city around them. They could barely see the flashing lights of the car from the window and Matthias ran for the door.
“Matthias? Where are you going?” Sophie called after him, but it was too late. By the time she reached the foyer, the door was wide open and Matthias was sprinting down the street. “Matthias!”
“Get back from there,” Samiell demanded, pulling Sophie away and slamming the door. He turned the deadbolt and stood with his shoulder to the thick wood, listening intently for anything outside.
“What’s going on?” Sophie asked.
Samiell shushed her, a finger to his lips. The foyer grew quiet as even Sarah strained to hear what was going on outside. The car alarm was the only thing Sophie were able to hear, but judging by Samiell’s facial expressions, he could hear much more.
The urge to ask him what was going on was nearly overwhelming, but Sophie did her best to hold her tongue and wait. Sarah on the other hand, seemed incredibly patient. It was obvious that she was trying to focus on listening for anything outside that would give her a hint as to the current situation, but her facial expression was placid and her movements unhurried.
“Make room,” Samiell said, readying himself to unlock the door.
Within seconds Matthias, Rowan, and Artashir were pushing through and into the foyer. Sophie barely had enough time to clear the way before the massive Artashir entered, nearly trampling her. His fists dripped dark blood onto the hardwood floor, but Sophie wasn’t concerned with that in the moment. Instead her gaze was fixed on Rowan, who was being supported by Matthias, his slender arm over the taller man’s shoulder. His black brocade coat was ripped and places where blood had spattered on him shimmered in the fire light.
“Are you alright?” Sophie asked, trying to take up on Rowan’s other side.
“Don’t fret, I’m fine,” he said.
“What happened?” Samiell asked, following Matthias into the living room where he let Rowan sit down.
“The Rogues were organized,” Artashir explained, rubbing his knuckles, allowing his golden eyes to drift toward the locked door. “I haven’t seen anything like it in a long time.”
“They ignored Artashir. Wanted nothing of him,” Rowan spoke, his voice ragged. He wasn’t nearly as bad off as Matthias had been when Azazel attacked him, but his black hair was sticky with blood and it streaked his chin from a crack in his lip. He tried to dab it away with his sleeve but to no avail. Sophie watched as it pooled around his lip-ring and fell from his lips. One swipe of his tongue and the wound closed, leaving only the tinge of blood on the metal.
“Did you kill them?” Samiell asked, concerned.
“Of course,” Rowan scoffed.
“You say that like you don’t look like shit,” Matthias grumbled. “What happened out there? How did they mess you up so bad?”
“They were waiting. I turned the corner at the end of the street and headed toward the Square. I saw Artashir waiting in front of the cathedral, but before I knew it, there were four on me. They came out of nowhere. I didn’t sense or smell them. I didn’t even hear them until they were on top of me.” Rowan shook his head, pushing his hair back from his face. “I think this must be related to Ivanka and Azazel and whomever hired them.”
Samiell sighed. “I think you may be right. What do we do now?”
“Nothing,” Rowan replied. “We do nothing in regard to this incident. We’re getting closer to finding out who murdered Rachel. That’s my goal right now. That is what we work for. I have a feeling that we’re closing in on the killer and that’s why those Rogues went after me tonight. I don’t know why, but my gut is telling me something big is going on here and Ivanka is the key.”
“Now, now, Rowan. We can’t go jumping to conclusions and assuming these incidents are related to Rachel’s murder,” Samiell said.
“I don’t see why not. If we go with our current line of thinking it’s not unreasonable. If someone hired Ivanka to kill Rachel and frame Matthias, and then hired Azazel to kill him when the first plan didn’t work, why is it so unreasonable to believ
e that the Rogues who attacked me in the Square are somehow connected? I’m telling you, Samiell, even with Artashir pulling them off, they were still focused on me. Something is going on here.”
“What about humans?” Matthias asked. “The Square must have been crawling with them.”
“Sadly, it was. I’m sure Lieutenant Walker is going to be very unhappy with me,” Rowan grumbled, gingerly pulling his arms from his coat sleeves. “I don’t think any of them were hurt, but a few pulled out their cell phones.”
“I’m sure it’s all over the Internet by now,” Matthias said.
“I’m not concerned. It was dark and chaotic. I’d think the only thing extraordinary about it would be Artashir.” He jabbed a thumb to the man who was almost taking up the entire doorway.
Artashir merely shrugged. “Well, as fun as this has been, I need to get back to the Lotus.”
“I can have my driver to take you home, if you want,” Samiell offered.
“Thanks, but I’d rather not,” Artashir replied and left without another word.
“I don’t blame him. If I was a mountain of a man like that I wouldn’t want to be cooped up in that little car either. I believe we’ve had enough excitement for one night. Sarah, call the car around, would you, dear? I’ll look into this further. Maybe I can dig something up.” Samiell patted Rowan’s shoulder as he passed.
“I think we need to hunt,” Matthias said once Samiell and Sarah were gone. “I know it’s been a few days for you, and frankly, I’m starving. Get cleaned up and let’s go.”
Rowan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch. “No. You go. I’ll stay here with Sophie. I don’t know if the Rogues will return but if they do, I don’t want her here alone. I’ll have time to hunt tomorrow night.”
Sophie saw Matthias’ jaw tighten and she wondered if they were going to fight. Rowan was weak and she knew he had to be hungry, so why wasn’t he willing to hunt? Arguing would only make Rowan angry, and Sophie didn’t know if she could handle them arguing about it. Matthias reluctantly dropped the subject and set out on his own to feed. Sophie’s shoulders relaxed but it didn’t stop her from being concerned for him.
“Are you sure you don’t need to eat?” Sophie asked when they were alone.
“I’m sure. I just need a shower and to go back to sleep,” Rowan replied quietly. “Lieutenant Walker will need me early in the morning and I’m sure I won’t get much sleep before work tomorrow. I’ll feed before work.” His dark eyes met Sophie’s and she knew her face showed she wasn’t convinced. “Promise.”
She didn’t know if she believed him.
38
Clearing up the incident from the night before took longer than Rowan had anticipated. It involved sitting at the police department most of the day listening to Walker complain about Rogues in the Quarter and the sheer amount of inquiries they got from citizens who wanted explanations for what they saw.
Rowan was tired, still healing from the attack from the Rogues and not in the mood to sit through a lecture, so he had cut the conversation short and took the paperwork he needed to complete the report. Walker wasn’t happy, and Rowan could feel the rage emanating from the man in a thick cloud, but Rowan couldn’t be bothered with him. He was tired and hungry, his body struggling to recover from his injuries since it had been so long since he fed.
The sun would be setting and he had to go to work. There wouldn’t be much time to feed before his shift, much less complete the paperwork before eight the next morning, as was required of him. He could take his own and complete it on his break but getting Artashir’s done was another story. He would have no time to take it to him and Matthias was working as well.
The only option was Sophie. He had heard she was off work for a second night, and as much as he hated asking her to run an errand for him, it simply had to be done. He quickly drove toward the restaurant, stopping by his house in the hope that Sophie was there. He could have called her, but then it occurred to him that he didn’t have her number and his feeling of guilt for asking her to run an errand deepened. He sighed heavily as he pulled up to the house, spotting her up on the gallery. She didn’t seem to notice him, no doubt lost in her own little world up there, gazing off into nothing.
Sophie hadn’t moved in the time it took him to ascend the stairs and join her on the gallery. Her gaze was unbroken until the study door clicked behind him, alerting her to his presence. She sat outside the door to her bedroom, sticking to her side of the shared gallery. She glanced up at him and forced a little smile as he sat down.
It was easy to feel the energy coming from her. She was depressed again and struggling with it. His hand gripped the envelope and he wondered if he should figure out another way to get the paperwork to Artashir. Sophie didn’t seem up to the task.
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked, taking a seat beside her.
For some time she didn’t answer before she inhaled sharply, then held her breath. “No.”
Rowan didn’t reply, unsure of what to say. They hadn’t spoken much before. She seemed to prefer going to Matthias with her problems, which was understandable as he was much easier to connect with, but there were moments when she had shown him tenderness. Luckily, Rowan didn’t have to wait for her to speak again or try to initiate conversation further.
“My mother thinks I should move back to Jackson. But I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that. And home…” Sophie paused. “That’s not where I want to be anymore. You know, the morning the police came to my door and told me what happened to Rachel, I had been adrift. I didn’t know what I wanted for my life, or where I wanted to be. All I knew was that I needed something different. Some sort of change. I wanted freedom and here in New Orleans...I don’t know, I feel like I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
“I understand,” Rowan replied, nodding slightly. For a moment he contemplated telling her that once Rachel’s killer was found she would have to cut ties with him, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Instead, he pushed the thought away to deal with another day. “I remember when this city was just a few shacks in a swamp. I remember the fires and the forts. I remember when Samiell’s house was built. I watched the birth and trials of this city from the start and although I have traveled the world, there is no place that calls my soul quite like this one.”
Rowan inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the river, only a street over. He was feeling the life of the city again, a heartbeat that had long faded into background noise was finally returning to him and all because of Sophie. “You belong here, too, I think,” he said, almost without thinking.
Sophie stared at Rowan and he could feel the questions buzzing around her, but she didn’t reply. She only nodded and changed the subject. “What about you? Are you okay?” she asked.
It was to be expected. He didn’t look good. He was paler than normal, and when he’d looked in the mirror he could see faint traces of the blue veins around his throat. Surely she had noticed that his eyes were paler as well, faded from their usual deep coffee brown, to a lighter, almost gray-brown color. She had voiced her concern about him the night before and as he hadn’t been able to feed, he was certain she was even more worried than she had been.
“I’ll be fine. I just need to feed and spending the day at the police department left me with no time to hunt,” he grumbled.
“Well...” Sophie began, “I could help with that if you need me to.”
Rowan was taken aback that she would willingly offer herself to him, but he felt he would already be asking too much of her by requesting she take the paperwork to Artashir. And yet, it was temping. He found he did want to feed from her, not just because he was hungry and weak. There was something else that drew him in; an emotion he hadn’t felt in far too long and one that he had hoped he’d never encounter again. Of course it was unavoidable, but why did he have to feel such a way about a creature he could never really touch?
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that’
s necessary. I don’t have much time, but as long as I’m not too picky I should be able to feed before work. But there is something I must ask you to do instead—if you’re up to it.”
“Sure. What is it?”
Rowan held out a manila envelope and Sophie took it from him. “I need you to take this to the Iron Lotus and get Artashir to fill it out for me. Our laws require that incidences like the one last night with the Rogues be officially documented within so many hours, and it’s due back at the NOPD by eight a.m. As you can imagine, delivering it myself after sunrise is a little difficult and I must be at work soon, so I have no time to take it to him now.”
“That’s fine. I can do that.” Sophie nodded.
“You’ll be fine. Artashir doesn’t bite,” Rowan quipped, sensing her uncertainty. Normally the saying was ridiculous, as most humans who were told that were already quite aware that they weren’t going to be bitten, but in the world of the Turned it was a relevant assurance.
Sophie clutched the envelope to her chest and looked at Rowan suspiciously.
Rowan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “No, I didn’t read your mind.”
“I’m not convinced,” she stated as Rowan stood and held out a hand to her.
Her eyes shifted between the hand and his face before finally placing her hand in his. He pulled her out of her seat and her lips pulled into a hard line.
“Are you sure you don’t want to call in sick or something?”
“Sophie, I’ll be fine,” he said, a little more firmly. “I love working there and tonight is the last time I’ll set foot in that kitchen. I don’t want to miss it. Now, I need my car to get to work in time, but you may use my bike if you wish. It’s in the closet under the stairs. And don’t forget the chain. Humans around here are rather crafty about breaking the damn things, but at least we can try,” Rowan grumbled sarcastically, leading the way back into his study and closing the door behind them.