“Treasure?”
“Something like a book, but rolled up.” She paused to think. “A scroll. He said it was made of solid gold, and worth billions of euros.” She flicked her fingers. “Nothing in the country is worth that kind of money. Then he said it was written by some magician who knew how to make someone live forever. He was going to steal the secret of eternal life. That’s when I laughed at him.”
“Really.” Nick saw her lover turn his head to stare at the prostitute. “Then what happened?”
“What do you think? He started hitting me with his fists until I blacked out.” Oksana sniffed. “When I woke he was gone. He took all my money and ruined my face.” She pressed her fingers against her lips. “I can’t work like this. Do you know how much crowns cost?”
“We’ll get you fixed up. Drink your wine.” Nick shifted around to face Gabriel. “The Brethren never share this kind of information with their hired muscle, and they’re interested only in vamps. Sounds like we’ve got some new rules and players.”
“Can you attend to this female?” When she nodded, Gabriel rose. “I’ll meet you at the hotel.”
“Sure.” Nick watched him go before she spoke again to Oksana. “Honey, I think you just scared the pants off my boyfriend.”
The prostitute’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not on you.” Nick shook off the feeling of dread and took hold of the other woman’s hand. “Now, let’s talk about what you’re not going to remember in about two minutes.”
Once she had compelled the prostitute to forget everything she had told them, Nick gave her all the cash she had on her and sent her to the safe house they used in Paris. She then used her mobile to call the tresora who managed the safe house, and instructed him to relocate the prostitute in the morning.
“Have your people give her some TLC, and see if you can get her in to see a dentist, too,” she said as she walked up to the hotel where she and Gabriel were staying.
“It will be as you say, my lady,” the tresora promised.
“Thanks, and don’t call me ‘my lady.’” Nick switched off the phone and spoke to the elderly doorman. “Have you seen my guy?”
“He arrived a few moments ago, madame.” The doorman gave her a cheeky smile. “He went directly upstairs.”
As Nick did the same, she went through everything Oksana had said about Antoine and the arson job. Gabriel hadn’t reacted until the prostitute had mentioned the treasure, and then he had looked…stunned? Scared? Both?
Nick didn’t care for surprises, and she really didn’t like her lover feeling frightened. After being captured by the Brethren, Gabriel had spent two years at their mercy, being tortured and questioned daily. In the end they’d bricked him up in the cellar of an abandoned house and left him to starve to death—something that for a Darkyn took years. If not for Nick finding him, he still would be there, slowly withering away.
If this were some kind of Brethren setup, Gabriel would have told her immediately. Nick’s instincts told her it was something else—something that he might try to keep from her.
Inside their suite, Gabriel stood by the windows. He was speaking quietly in the old language over the satellite phone they used to communicate with other Darkyn. Nick went to the bar and poured herself a measure of bloodwine, knocking it back like bad-tasting medicine while she watched his reflection on the mirrored wall and waited for him to finish his conversation.
“Forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive. So far.” She deliberately finished the drink and rinsed out the glass before she turned to him. When he began to speak she held up a hand. “Is this something that is really going to piss me off, or something that you don’t want me to know because I’m not one of the boys? Tell me that first.”
He hesitated before he said, “It is both.”
“Okay, that explains why you were talking to the vampire king.” She went to him, propping her shoulder against the window frame. “Let’s hear it.”
“Nicola, this is a very delicate, potentially volatile situation—”
“And when is it not?” she asked. “Just spill it.”
“This dilemma has nothing to do with the Brethren. At least, we do not believe they are involved.” He sounded tired, the way he did when anything reminded him of his long captivity. “The woman spoke the truth. The man who beat her was part of a group hired to kill a Kyn lord and steal the treasure he guards for us.”
“This treasure would be the solid-gold scroll thing?” When he nodded, she sighed. “Wonderful. Who’s the Kyn lord?”
“You don’t know him,” Gabriel said. “His name is Helada. Cristophe, the maker of the scroll, entrusted it to him. We must go to Provence tonight and retrieve it.”
“Oh, must we?” This was just getting better and better. “Is this because we’d like to donate it to a museum?”
“The Scroll of Falkonera contains directions to create an elixir that is supposed to bestow eternal life on a worthy mortal,” Gabriel said. “Over the centuries many have attempted to make and drink the elixir. Most of them died a very unpleasant death.”
“But not all of them,” she guessed.
“No.”
“Marvelous. So we’re off to Garbia.” She went to the closet and began removing their clothes, carrying them over to the bed. “Do we have any friends there, or are we flying solo?”
“Richard sent Korvel to France two days past to secure the scroll.”
“He sent Big, Blond, and Badass to get it?” She stopped on her way back to the closet. “Then why do we have to go?”
“Korvel apparently arrived at Château Niege early this morning, but has not been in contact with Richard since,” he said slowly. “The authorities in Garbia also responded to a fire at the château this morning. They found all the servants murdered.”
Nick had met the captain of Richard’s guard only a few times, but she had liked him. She’d even hoped the vampire king would lend him out to work with her and Gabriel. “Did they find Korvel’s body?”
“Richard does not know the fate of his seneschal; nor does it concern us,” Gabriel told her. “We are being sent to track the mortals who did this, and to recover the scroll.”
“Oh, give me that phone.” When he wouldn’t, her temper rose. “Gabriel.”
“Richard is our lord, Nicola.”
“He’s your lord. Not mine.” She began to pace. “I think what Richard really needs is a little refresher course on what you and I do for the Kyn. Last time I checked, baby, we don’t risk our lives in territory overrun by the enemy to save stupid fucking golden scrolls.” She stalked over to him. “Now give me the goddamn phone.”
He held it out of reach. “You do not understand, ma belle amie. It is not simply a treasure.”
“I don’t give a shit what it is.” She was shouting, and she never did that. She turned down the volume before she said, “Look, all I care about is Korvel. You remember, the really loyal guy who’s been keeping Richard’s ass safe for the last seven hundred years? So fuck the scroll; we need to find him. If you don’t agree, tell me now and I’ll go track him by myself.”
Gabriel looked at the phone, and then threw it across the room before he took her into his arms. “Nothing comes between us, Nicola. We will find Korvel together.”
“Good.” She felt a little better. “Start packing.”
Chapter 4
A
lthough the château’s stables were far enough away from the main house to prevent the fire from spreading to them, the smell of smoke had made most of the horses nervous. Simone entered the stall of the sturdiest, a dappled gray used as a plow horse, who like all her father’s animals had been trained to do much more than till the soil. She bridled him before leading him out of the stall, soothing him with her hands and her voice when he fought the reins. She eyed the tack room, tempted to retrieve one of her father’s expensive saddles, but they were all too small. A coil of rope and a blanket slung over the gray’s broad back would have to do. The plow horse allowed her to lead him up to the greenhouse, where she tethered him securely before returning inside. The Englishman still lay where she had left him, his big body unmoving and his chest still. When she placed her hand over his heart she felt nothing.
He weighed too much for her to carry or drag to the horse, so she would have to revive him, and only one thing would do that.
She took down a pair of pruning shears, opening them and using one sharp tip to pierce a small vein in her forearm. Once the blood began to flow, she knelt down and pressed the wound against his lips. The first few drops trickled down the side of his jaw, and then his lips moved, pressing and then clamping against her arm. She let him drink until his hand moved sluggishly to grip her, and then lifted her arm out of reach. By the time she had bound her own wound, he had begun to breathe again.
“Wake up.” She shook his shoulder gently until his eyelids opened. “We have to leave here, Englishman. You must stand up and walk.”
Confusion clouded his gaze. “Alexandra?”
“They will find us when they come to put out the fire. They will want to take you to the hospital.” When he didn’t respond, she used his name. “Korvel. We have to go now.”
He rolled onto his side, pushing himself up from the ground. Once she got her arm under him, he braced his hand on her shoulder and bent his legs, pushing himself to a crouch. She kept him from falling on top of her when he swayed, and worked her shoulder under his arm, biting her lip as she struggled to get him to his feet. He had to be twice her weight, and while she was strong she couldn’t carry him to the horse.
Once he stood Simone didn’t wait but pulled at him, supporting and guiding him as he shuffled along. When he tried to stop, she tugged harder. “It is only a few more meters; then you can rest again.”