Stay the Night

"She is mine," Robin bellowed.

Chris locked the door behind her. "Robin, Guy, you can do this later. We have to get to this council meeting before the contessa does."

Neither man paid any attention to her as they drew daggers and began circling around each other.

"You ruined my life," Nottingham snarled. "Do not do the same to hers."

"I should have cut your throat that night," Robin told him, fangs bared. "She would have been free to have the life she wanted."

"Which you gave her by getting her with your brat?" Nottingham slashed at him.

Chris heard hammering on the door, and strode over to step between them. "This brawl is over."

"It will be shortly," Robin said in a low, lethal voice. "Step out of the way, love."

That did it. "Don't you call me love. Not when you're trying to kill him over Marian."

She finally got his attention. "Marian is dead."

"Her death doesn't seem to matter to either of you, does it?" She gestured at him and Nottingham. "You're still fighting over her. And for what?"

"He killed Marian," Nottingham said. "He had me imprisoned for ten years in my own keep. He stole my life from me."

"Your mother imprisoned you, Guy," Chris said. "You said she had been planning to kill you on your wedding day. She probably would have, too, if Robin hadn't taken Marian. He didn't steal your life. He saved it. And you." She turned and glared at her lover. "How long do you think Guy's mother would have let Marian live after the wedding? She had her land and her money; she didn't need her. Right?"

Both men lowered their daggers as they stared at her, their scowls uncertain.

Chris turned her head toward the voices shouting outside the lavatory. "You two can stay here and pretend that nothing has changed, but the contessa is out there somewhere, and she's not exactly sane, and apparently she has an army of vampires with her. So I'm leaving. Have a good time cutting each other to pieces."

Chris unlocked the door, pushing her way through the crowd that had gathered outside. No one tried to stop her, which was a good thing, because she was angry enough to kill someone herself.

Outside the terminal she went to the first unoccupied black cab she saw and climbed in.

"Where are we off to, love?" the driver asked her.

She didn't know where the contessa could be, or where the Darkyn were meeting for le conseil supérieur, and felt like bursting into tears. Then the door opened, and two sullen-looking men climbed in beside her.

"Shoemaker's Heaven," Robin told the driver.

Chapter Nineteen

Richard contemplated adjourning the meeting after Alexandra stalked out of the reception room. Instead he took Michael to the side as the other seigneurs argued over what the doctor had revealed.

"Did you know any of this?" Richard demanded in a low voice.

"No. Alexandra chose not to confide in me." His smile became ironic. "I assume from your reaction that she was not supposed to reveal this information to anyone but you."

"I thought we had made an agreement. Apparently I was mistaken." Richard felt as weary as if he had spent the last hour in battle. "How much of what she said could be the truth?"

"Most or all of it. Alexandra spoke to Liling Harper for several hours last night. The girl spent sixteen years as one of the Brethren's test subjects; she must know a great deal about them, their methods, and their ambitions." Cyprien gave him a narrow look. "I suggest that you not consider kidnapping Liling. Jaus has never lost a siege or spared an enemy."

"My lord," Sevarus called out, drawing Richard's attention to the fact that the other seigneurs had fallen silent and were watching him and Cyprien. "We have decided on the matter of responding to the Brethren attacks."

Richard nodded to Cyprien, and they returned to their places.

The high lord looked down the table. "Very well. Do we commit ourselves to war?" No one moved. "All who support Cyprien's suggestion to expose the order to the media." He watched Michael, but like the others he didn't put in a vote. Richard sighed. "All who find favor with Dr. Keller's proposals."

Seven hands raised into the air.

"I should save myself a great deal of trouble and simply make her the high lord," Richard observed in a sour tone. "Very well. We will consult with Lady Alexandra and decide what is to be done." He slapped his glove on the table. "Le conseil supérieur is adjourned."

Richard didn't feel like celebrating what he considered Alexandra's victory, but accompanied his seigneurs to Geoffrey's gardens, where their seneschals and entourages had been gathering each evening. Word passed quickly through the assembled Kyn, most of whom began fiercely debating the revelations and decisions made.

Michael came to stand beside Richard. "For centuries most of our men have had to settle for the comforts to be had of mortal females," he said as they watched the others. "At least now there is a chance for more of them to find life companions."

"If your damned leech doesn't take it upon herself to cure us first." Richard saw Alexandra working her way toward them. "Ah, here she is. Brace yourself; I expect she brings a liberal amount of salt to apply to our wounds."

Alexandra stumbled just before she reached them, and clutched the side of her head.

Michael stiffened. "She is using her talent." He went to her and helped her to a bench.

Richard, aware that Alex could read the thoughts of human and Kyn killers, joined them.

"Chérie," Michael said, putting his arm around her. "Who is it?"

"Kyn." She blinked several times, as if trying to clear her eyes. "Italian. Really pissed off. Somewhere close, maybe in the city. I can't tell if it's a man or a woman. The thoughts are just… hideous." She gave Richard an owlish look. "Who is Beatrice, and what did you do to her?"

"Beatrice." Seven hundred years disappeared, and once more Richard looked into the fires of hell. "Beatrice is dead."

"Someone who loved her isn't." Alex groaned and pressed her hands to her ears. "I don't know who it is, but they brought friends. And they're coming for you, Richard. They're coming for all of us."

Salva sent her men to surround the grounds, and went to Geoffrey's gate accompanied only by Caesar.

"You must be careful with the vial," he was telling her. "Do not let anyone take it from you, or cause it to be opened accidentally."

Her dear, sweet Caesar. He still believed she intended to use her sister's tears only as the means of acquiring the high lord's throne. Of course, Salva had never persuaded him to think anything different.

The Darkyn believed themselves to be cursed by God, but Salva knew better. Her innocent sister had been guilty only of loving a mortal, and being made Kyn by their father when he had brought home the sickness that had transformed his daughters and killed their brothers and mother.

Beatrice had never considered her gift a punishment, as she told Salva in the many letters she had written to her from the convent. The Holy Bible spoke of an angel of death that would come to put an end to the world's suffering. Beatrice had been charged with a sacred duty, one she had never been permitted to carry out.

Salva's last promise to her sister had been to assure her that God's purpose would be fulfilled, and the world wiped clean again. After seven hundred years, at last she would.

As Caesar neared the guardhouse at Geoffrey's gate, Salva leaned against him. "Stop for a moment, caro. I wish to kiss you one last time."

Caesar smiled as he parked the car and took her into his arms. "It will not be the last time, bella," he said against her lips. "You and I shall rule—" He stopped short and looked down at the copper dagger she had thrust into his heart.

"In heaven or hell, I shall find you." She watched the life fade from his eyes, and pressed her hand around the dagger, soaking it in his blood. She smeared it on her face, throat, and the tops of her breasts before she left him in the car and pretended to stagger as she made her way toward the gate.

"Brethren." She gasped as she fell into the wide-eyed guard's arms. "They are just behind me, and they mean to burn the place. You must take me to the high lord at once."

Robin ordered the driver to stop as the cab's headlights revealed the still body of the gatehouse guard on the ground. "She is here. We must hurry."

Nottingham reached the guard, shaking his head as he soon as he saw the gunshot wound to his chest. "Dead."

Chris came back, breathless from running to check the car that had been abandoned on the drive. "She killed her guard, too."

Robin breathed in. "I have her scent. Chris, go to the house and warn the Kyn. Guy and I will track her." He caught her as she turned to run and kissed her hard. "If you see the contessa, do not try to confront her or go near her. She will kill you to silence you."

"Got it." Chris kissed him back and ran.

Lights blazed from all of the mansion's windows, but as Chris reached the front entry she saw two more dead guards, and her heart skipped a beat. What if she already opened the vial, and they're all dead?

The house seemed empty, but Chris heard the sound of voices and laughter, and followed it until she saw the open doors leading into the gardens. She saw no sign of Salva, Robin, or Nottingham, and hurried out.

"Please, can you help me?" she asked, touching the arm of a beautiful black woman talking with several of the men. "I need to find the high lord."

"You're mortal." The woman frowned. "How do you know Lord Tremayne? How did you get into the house?"

"There's no time to explain," Chris said, feeling desperate as the men surrounded her. "I must speak with Richard right now." She glanced at the Kyn reaching for her. "I'm a friend of Robin's. I mean, Locksley. He sent me to warn you." She felt strong hands take hold of her. "Robin has a scar over his heart, like someone gouged out a piece of his chest." What was the word he'd called her when he told her he loved her? "I'm his kyara." 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">