Private Demon

"Safe from what?" she demanded.

"Many things." Including the arsonist in New Orleans whom his men had still not caught, and Alexandra's own determination to find Thierry and Jamys, which had given her a recklessness that might be equally as dangerous. He saw a familiar figure emerge from the house. "Here is Jaus. Be polite."

"Polite how, exactly?" She took off her coat. "Be polite as in kiss his ass, flutter my eyelashes at him, do the demure little woman thing, act all master-whipped—"

"I mean shut up, Alexandra." Cyprien stepped forward to exchange formal greetings with Jaus, who had guards following but not flanking him. "It is good to see you again, Valentin. My sygkenis, Alexandra Keller."

"The delight is mine." Jaus bowed, then offered his hand. "I only wish I had happier news for you, seigneur." He turned to Alexandra, executed a second, more elaborate bow that included kissing the back of her hand. "Valentin Jaus, at your service."

The scent of camellias surrounded them and blended with the smell of roses and lavender.

Alexandra's scowl deepened when Cyprien eyed her. "Oh, I can talk now?" She faced Jaus. "Dr. Alex Keller. Services occasionally provided, but only if I like you." She frowned for a moment, as if she hadn't meant to say that.

Jaus's shrewd gaze moved over her. "I will endeavor to win your regard, then, madam."

"Try finding our friends," she told him. "That would up my estimation in a huge way."

Jaus refrained from a formal staff presentation and merely introduced his seneschal, Falco, and his tresora, Sacher.

"Welcome to Derabend Hall," Falco said to Cyprien. His dark eyes flicked toward Alexandra, and his mouth compressed for a moment. "May I greet your sygkenis?"

Alex saw Cyprien's nod and planted her hands on her hips. "Does everyone have to ask before they talk to me?"

"Only if they are Kyn," Cyprien said, "and only if they belong to another jardin."

"Great." Alex huffed out some air. "More rules to remember."

Falco performed a proper, rather chilly bow before he returned to his place behind Jaus. Sacher, who was not required to adhere to such formality, greeted Cyprien warmly, and charmed Alex by presenting her with a nosegay of pale apricot tea roses.

"These are lovely, thank you." Alex buried her face in the blooms. "My favorite flowers."

Sacher gave Michael an amused look. "I had an inkling they might be."

"How is your grandson, Gregor?" Cyprien asked him.

"Growing out of his wardrobe. Every time I look at the boy, he has shot up another inch." The old man's smile became that of a fond uncle as he added, "I offer my congratulations on your elevation to seigneur. The high lord could not have made a better choice for this country."

"Shall we go inside?" Jaus asked. "I expect a call from Ireland shortly."

Cyprien glanced at Sacher, and then at Alexandra.

"May I show your lady our beautiful gardens?" the tresora asked, picking up the subtle hint. "I think Dr. Keller would enjoy seeing them before the light is gone."

"Of course." He would have to see to recruiting a new tresora for himself when they returned to New Orleans. Sacher was a treasure.

"Maybe I don't want to see the gardens," Alex muttered as Sacher took her arm in his and expertly steered her away from the men. "Maybe I want to hang out and hear what the grownup vampires talk about."

"Very dull stuff," the elderly man said as he led her down the walkway. "I always find myself nodding off in the middle of it."

The scent of lavender gradually faded from the air.

"She is clever and beautiful," Jaus said. "Not quite what I had expected, however. Does she always speak so…" He made a diplomatic gesture.

Cyprien nodded. "Always."

"Tremayne once said that you would meet your match someday." Jaus's hair caught the last of the light as he shook his head. "I thought he meant on the battlefield."

Cyprien thought of his convoluted relationship with Alexandra. "There are many fields of battle, my friend."

After he directed his hunters to join the jardin's and prepare for a night on the streets, Cyprien went with Jaus into his office. "There has been no word of either Durand?"

"One sighting of Thierry, none of Jamys." Jaus offered Cyprien a chair and handed him a copy of the homicide report on a thief found dead in a Dumpster. He went around the desk to sit down while Cyprien skimmed it.

"Heart attack, broken fingers, but no signs of feeding or stabbing." Cyprien looked up at him. "The drugs he was using were determined as the primary cause of death. Thierry didn't kill him."

"He tried to kill Durand," Jaus said. "According to my people in the coroner's office, he had Kyn blood all over him. We've substituted human blood for what was in evidence, so there will be no question of exposure."

"This weapon he used." Cyprien resisted the urge to crumple the report in his fist. "A steak knife."

"Also covered with Kyn blood, so I had it replaced with a duplicate as well." Jaus removed a plastic bag from a drawer and offered it. "A very cheap steel blade with no copper content."

"That tells us that he hasn't been feeding properly." Only when weakened could a Darkyn be vulnerable to metals other than copper. "Why would he be in such a state?'

"He's mad, Michael. If his wounds have not yet healed, he'll be even more dangerous." Jaus nodded toward the door, outside which his seneschal waited. "Falco has crossed swords with Thierry in tourneys, and he's by far my best tracker. He's been taking the hunters out every night, but we've yet to find a trail."

"Gabriel Seran, Angelica's brother, taught Jamys to track," Cyprien warned. Gabriel had been the finest hunter in France, and his skills had only increased when he had risen to walk as Kyn. "So, where you find the father, you will find the son. I don't want the boy hurt, Val. Like his father, he's suffered enough."

Jaus nodded. "Tremayne is waiting for your call." He dialed a number on a line Cyprien knew was encrypted and secure, and put the phone on speaker.

"Dundellan Castle," Cyprien's former tresora answered the line. "Eliane Selvais."

Jaus gave him a thin smile. He knew that Eliane had in part prevented many Darkyn from dying in New Orleans, but she had also been planted in Michael's household as the high lord's spy. "Valentin for Richard."

There was only a fraction of silence. "One moment."

Although Eliane had only remained with him to serve as a conduit to Richard, Cyprien sometimes regretted losing his tresora. She had been cool under pressure, kept his household extremely well organized, and carried out his orders without question. Phillipe was doing his best to fill in until he found a replacement, but he had yet to fathom computers and the extensive paperwork involved in Cyprien's empire.

"Michael, Valentin." Distance and telephone equipment only partially reduced the power of Richard Tremayne's voice, which could bespell a human with a few whispered words. "I trust all is well on your side of the Atlantic?"

"As well as can be expected, my lord," Cyprien answered. He moved his chair a little closer to the desk so he could be heard clearly, and saw the framed photo of Jaus holding an infant. "How may we serve you?"

"The good Brothers have elected D'Orio to replace poor Stoss," Tremayne said. "He was in Chicago a few days ago to meet with Hightower. He then went to New Orleans to put his seal of approval on the new cell there. Thoughts, impressions, gentlemen?"

"After Stoss's attack on my jardin, I am not surprised," Cyprien said carefully. The picture of Jaus and the baby distracted him; Darkyn did not allow themselves to be photographed. "They send their hunters wherever there is prey to be had."

"In the four hundred years since our kind came to America, no one knew about New Orleans." Tremayne's tone changed. "This fallen priest, John Keller, exposed your jardin, Michael. He led the Brethren practically to your front door. Yet he remains at large, free to do things such as meet with Hightower just before the archbishop received the Lightkeeper. In your city, Valentin."

Jaus rested his head against his hand.

"John Keller was a victim of the Brethren." Cyprien had little love for Alexandra's brother, and John had created an enormous amount of trouble for them. His annoyance did not stop him from feeling pity for Keller. The man had been manipulated and tortured; his faith abused, so much so that his life would never be the same. "He is no longer in a position to harm or expose us."

"I am sure it is as you say," Tremayne told him, "but I do not gamble on whether a man will or will not remain worthless. Find John Keller and kill him."

Cyprien almost agreed, but then remembered that he and Richard were, in essence, equals now. "Are you giving me an order, my lord, or a suggestion?"

Tremayne laughed, and it was a beautiful, horrible sound. "I am giving you three days, seigneur."

The call ended there.

"If I ever wish to be elevated to your position, Michael," Jaus said, "I hope you will talk me out of it."

"When you did not do so for me?" Cyprien rose. "I had better go collect Alexandra. Do not speak of this to her, Val."

One of the guards directed them to the kitchen, where Alex and Sacher were sitting at a table. Alex had retrieved her medical bag from the car and was gently cleaning a festering wound on the back of the old man's hand. Neither of them noticed the two Darkyn standing and watching them.

"You do not put butter on a burn," Alex was telling Sacher as she discarded one stained gauze pad and applied a new one to the raw-looking wound.

"It is part of the salve I make, a remedy from the old country." Sacher grimaced. "It feels better than this." ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">