Vampire Instinct (Vampire Queen #7)

That got her attention back. Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Mal took her hand, held it on his thigh. “Danny’s been busy. At my request, she called Janus to her station for further questioning.”

Janus was the only survivor of the four adult males Ruskin had illegally turned to serve as his “sons,”—murdering, raping thugs. He was under the supervision of one of Danny’s territory overlords now. Elisa swallowed, remembering when Danny had called all four of them out in the courtyard at Ruskin’s Darwin fortress. Dev hadn’t known until too late that Elisa was standing at an upper window. With a deadly calm, Danny had tossed each a weapon, told them to defend themselves. Then, with a speed and skill that had been bloodcurdling, she’d decapitated three of them before Elisa could even turn her head away.

When Janus dropped his blade, his fingers trembling too hard to hold it, she’d ordered him to his knees. Then she’d told him his life was spared, because she had one wavering molecule of belief that the four of them had been a different kind of victim of Ruskin’s cruelty. She’d then told him if he ever gave her a shadow of a doubt that she’d made a wrong decision, he should stake himself. Because otherwise she’d make sure his death was slow and painful.

Since that day, realizing what the four had done to the children, no matter that it was done under Ruskin’s twisted supervision, Elisa had sometimes wished her Mistress had killed all of them. But at least he wasn’t at their station.

“What did she find out from him?”

“That the four of them turned Victor, Leonidas and Jeremiah. Having a fledgling turn other fledglings is always a risky, unstable proposition. William, Matthew, Nerida and Miah were turned by Ruskin, who was a five-hundred-year-old mature vampire. We’ve all noticed there’s a marked difference in the severity and types of attacks they experience versus Jeremiah or Leonidas. As I told you earlier, a normal transition is most volatile during the first three months, and then the bloodlust ebbs over time. The age of their turning, the trauma they’ve endured, have exacerbated that, but it’s possible as we give them a semblance of normalcy, and time passes, it will eventually pass, the same way it does for an adult vampire. They’d still have the dangerous vulnerability of being weaker than adult vampires, but if I’m right, that makes their future somewhat more optimistic.”

When it came to the fledglings, he never gave her empty reassurances, so he must feel quite certain. It was something. But she couldn’t bring herself to say anything just yet. He shifted, bracing his wrist on the wheel. “We’ll head to the mainland as planned at the end of the week. Nothing has changed for those four. Lord Marshall’s household is still an excellent potential haven for two of them, and the other prospect I’m researching looks good.”

Nothing has changed for those four. “But not for Jeremiah.”

“Not until we see what’s going to happen with him,” Mal said quietly. “I’m sorry, Elisa.”

Getting out of the Jeep, she walked to the front and looked out at the view. “I won’t survive losing him.”

There, she’d said it to the night sky, to the darkness, and to the vampire who was deep inside of her mind and soul now, in ways that went beyond the marking. She’d told herself it was okay he could never feel the same. Like a priest, he could accept the full weight of what she felt, even if he didn’t feel it himself. A priest could consign it all to God’s will and wisdom.

Only for some reason, that star-filled sky and moonlight seemed strangely empty of godliness to her at the moment. “It was the first time he took that bear I brought him, the way he looks at me. The way he came to me tonight . . . I’m the only one he trusts to give him comfort, to help him. And I can’t bloody help him. I—”

She was crying again. Would the tears ever stop? When he got out, came to her, she folded into him, clutching his T-shirt. It wasn’t a cathartic cry this time, those open, clean tears and sobs. This was like crying broken glass, all of it ground up inside her chest and choked out, because this wasn’t going to be made better by the tears.

I know what he means to you, and you to him. We’ll get through this, one way or another. Whatever you need to survive, you will, because you have me.

The sobs broke loose, because she needed to believe him. The human heart grabbed at comfort, because it was the only thing that kept one from being swept out on that tide, the one Jeremiah had feared enough to imagine he was drowning.

Every creature feared such a feeling. Particularly a fledgling vampire child, one who knew exactly what it was to be lost and forgotten, thrown to the jaws of merciless Fate.

31

FLORIDA. Elisa stood on the back balcony of Lord Marshall Grant’s intracoastal waterway home in the late afternoon, watching boats passing by with thrumming motors. They’d arrived at the airport so close to dawn that when they reached the house, the host had turned in for the day, but a very efficient staff had shown Mal to his accommodations. After he’d done a thorough check of the surroundings, ensuring Marshall was the only vampire on the premises, he’d given Elisa leave to wander the grounds. She was to use her propensity for making friends with household staff to learn the many details that might be useful to their purpose here.

Lord Marshall Grant, overlord for the Florida territory, had a human servant, Nadia, who’d conceived not once, but three times. She’d lost all of them at different points of the pregnancy, the latest one practically a month before the anticipated birth. According to Mal, while it was exceedingly rare for vampire children to be conceived at all, when they were—barring any external forces, such as an enemy vampire attack or other injury—the mother carried them to term without incident.

As a result, Lord Marshall had had to endure ridiculous rumors that Nadia had done something to sabotage the pregnancy. Even vampires weren’t immune from claptrap scuttlebutt based on nothing more than people’s meanest imaginings. Less than a few hours into their visit, Elisa had already confirmed the rumor was complete hogwash.

While she appreciated the fine things she saw while exploring the grounds, other things had been of keener interest to her. Wide yard space, a billiards and bowling room. Through chats with the staff, she found Lord Marshall was well learned, with a good library and an interest in travel that increased his knowledge of the world, something he could share with the boys.

Near lunchtime, she’d been traveling down a hall, learning the estate so she could easily go fetch things for Mal if needed. She’d traveled with Danny several times, and from watching Dev, she knew this was the more mundane side of what was expected of a third-mark when travel occurred. One got to know the kitchen staff, the lay of the household, the surrounding environment, so the vampire’s needs could be anticipated and met. That was still the primary responsibility of the third-mark, even in a household of domestics.

She stopped at an open doorway, seeing a maid with a feather duster busy at work. Elisa wouldn’t have done more than pause for a hello, but she noted the room was a nursery, complete with cradle, crib, toys and all the things parents with substantial financial means would provide their child. Stepping in, she saw there was even a small tricycle. On impulse, the expectant parents had planned for the child’s growth beyond the first few years. It twisted in her heart, such that she couldn’t help the automatic murmur of “Bless them” as she crossed herself.

Katrine, the maid, looked her way. The trace of irritation at being interrupted softened at Elisa’s gesture. “That’s the truth, ma’am. Breaks my heart every time I clean in here. Can I help you with something?”

“Just learning the house for my Master. You can call me Elisa. Can you tell me how long ago they lost the last one?” It wasn’t difficult to load her voice with a woman’s sympathy.

“A year.” Katrine shook her head. “I’ve heard tell how cold vampires can be toward humans, but Lord Marshall, he just hasn’t got the heart to have it all taken away. Miss Nadia, she comes in here and sits sometimes. I think she was able to get past the first one she lost, though it was hard. But the second took its toll, and this last one just fairly broke her.”

“As it would any woman,” Elisa observed. “I’m sure it’s hard on Lord Marshall as well. They were his children, too.”

“No doubt, but I’m not sure if she can get past it.” Katrine hesitated, but Elisa picked up a second duster and began working on the light fixtures, earning a grateful look. “I don’t think I’m saying anything you won’t see for yourself tonight. He’s the one who bought the tricycle, had it all shined up with ribbons when he gave it to her as a gift, the second time.”

The maid shrugged, lowered her voice. “He’s devoted to her as much as any husband I’ve ever seen. But you didn’t hear me say it.” Katrine eyed her critically. “I’m sure none of you full-servant types think you’ll have the house with the picket fence, you know? The life with kids and the husband who comes home from work with his briefcase and all that. But the idea of having a child to raise had taken hold of both of them. It’s a hard thing.”

“It surely is.” The ghost of what she’d dreamed about with Willis couldn’t help but rear its head, despite her attempt to push it away before it clouded her expression. Sure, Mal said she was free to go after this was all over, but in truth, in the deepest part of her heart, it was getting more difficult to envision it, too much of her heart now tied up in him.

Yeah, that was a mistake, but there was no help for it. She wasn’t sure if she’d change it if she could, which was more unsettling than anything else. It said she wasn’t the same person anymore. Of course, for tonight’s purposes, that was probably going to be a good thing.

She’d found it interesting that Mal seemed fairly uptight about her presence at the dinner as well, but then, she was also his first full servant, so this was likely a new experience for him. It would be all right. At least that was what her practical mind told her, trying to tiptoe around melodramatic fantasies and worries and leave them undisturbed. They were here for the fledglings. Everything else would work out.