Cloak of Deceit: An Alex Moore Novel (17 page)

“I know. So what happened?”

“Andreas got caught. The Cloak put him in prison.”

“For how long?”

Carl shrugged. “That depends on Julian. He made a deal to work for them, to earn off Andreas’s sentence. That’s when he broke things off with Monique. It’s against the Code to have a human donor. They claim it’s too close to slavery.”

My mind whirled with the implications. So many things clicked into place about Julian’s hesitance to explain the real situation to me. He’d left Monique for the Cloak, even though she still loved him. “What do you mean slavery?”

“The bond doesn’t ever dissolve. Even after years. Why do you think Monique will still do anything to help Julian?” Carl shook his head. “Even me and you, even if it never happens again. No matter how many times you say no, I don’t think I’ll ever stop asking. It feels that good.”

I frowned at that. I hadn’t known. I remembered the feeling of what Cody had done to me, but I didn’t think I would sign up for it again. Maybe it was different since he had actually killed me, or maybe because I was a natural enemy of the Undead.

Carl’s story explained why Julian was such a contradiction. He followed the Code, but he didn’t believe in it. Also, his secretive habits made more sense. So did Monique’s attitude. Julian had chosen Andreas over her, refusing to break the Code for the sake of his Sponsor. But now, he was breaking it, and risking a lot more…for me. I would be pissed too. Especially if she still loved him, which it didn't take any psychic powers to see that she did. The only part that didn’t make sense was…why was I worth the risk?

“You should read your manual, Alex,” Carl said. “The relationship between a Sponsor and a Dependant is stronger than any other bond. Even blood. Even love.”

“But Julian is—” I began, and then wondered if I should tell Carl, or anyone, that Julian had mentioned becoming my Sponsor. Now the offer had gravity I hadn’t understood before.

“Julian is loyal to Andreas. Never forget that. If there’s a way, a bargaining chip he can use to get Andreas out, he will.”

Carl’s voice carried a weight of certainty that left me cold down to the soles of my feet. Could Julian use me like that? I didn’t want to consider the possibility. My feelings were mixed up enough without adding that extra dash of doubt. I nodded to acknowledge what Carl had said. I didn’t want to know if he’d heard my other thoughts. It was better to leave it unspoken. “I should let you rest.”

“Can I come see you tomorrow?” Carl asked with unabashed hopefulness.

“Sure.” I smiled and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. “And thanks.”

He relaxed back into the pillows as I fluffed them up, and beamed at me as I tucked the covers around him again. I got him a Gatorade out of the fridge, a magazine to read, the TV remote, and settled him in before I left. He insisted on loaning me his favorite Metallica T-shirt to wear instead of Julian’s, to which I rolled my eyes. But I took it.

“Hey?” he called out as I started to close the door behind me.

I poked my head back in, wondering what else he could possibly want. “Yeah?”

“You can almost kill me anytime.” He grinned.

“Nah, that’s okay. I kinda like you alive.” I smirked and shut the door.

On my way through the labyrinth of halls, which were starting to make a little more sense, I realized it was true. It wasn’t all hocus-pocus. Carl was a good guy. He seemed like someone I would have made fast friends with in my old life. It was nice to have one of those — a friend. Someone who appreciated me for who I was, not in spite of it. Someone my own age, who didn’t get my feelings so hopelessly tangled up.

Someone who wouldn’t keep secrets from me.

Chapter Eleven

J
ulian was waiting for me in our new room, which had the same middle-eastern décor as our old one, only on a grander scale. Apparently we’d been upgraded to a suite that included a bathroom. He was lounging against a pile of pillows, reading. His hair dangled across his forehead, still wet from the shower, but he was wearing the same pair of jeans he’d had on before, and still shirtless.

I closed the door, leaned against it, and sighed. Julian didn’t even glance up. In a long practiced locker room technique, I turned my back and changed my shirt. When I faced Julian again, I had his full attention.

“Thanks.” I tossed his shirt at his feet.

He set the book aside. “I was just about to come looking for you.”

“Hm.” I shrugged and did a circuit of the room, opening drawers and cupboards, re-arranging vases, carefully ignoring him. Carl’s warning was still too fresh in my mind for it to be considered safe to face Julian. Unfortunately, I never was very good at subtlety.

“Is everything all right?” Julian didn’t do subtle too well either — his question was laced with suspicion, with an undercurrent of tiredness.

“Fine.” Could he just go away and come back when I’d had a chance to think about things? I should have gotten lost again.

“Alex.”

“What?” I fingered through the bookshelf. It was full of all sorts of obscure titles on the psychic world, theology, and metaphysics. Including another copy of
I’m Dead, Now What?
I pulled the manual off the shelf and tucked it to my chest.

“Did something happen?” Julian asked from right behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, then glared at him over my shoulder.

He pursed his sensuous lips and reached out for me.

I leaned away and edged past him to flop down onto a chaise.

“What’s going on?” I could almost hear a countdown to Julian losing his patience.

“Good question.” I opened my book and flipped straight to the index to look up
sponsorship
.

“What does that mean?” Julian sat beside me and took the book out of my hands. He searched my face, looking completely bewildered. Or it was a really good act. “Will you talk to me?”

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. “No. I think you should do the talking.”

“Okay,” he said. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“How about Andreas and Monique?” I forced a casual tone that I didn’t feel in the least.

Julian’s jaw clenched. “What else did Carl tell you?”

“Enough to make me wonder what the hell I’m doing here. What I’m doing with
you
.” I regretted it when I saw a shadow of pain slide behind his neutral gaze.

Julian nodded and settled into the cushions behind him, the dim light casting distracting shadows along the ridges of his defined stomach. “You know, he was young. I doubt he remembers much, and what he does remember is skewed by a child’s perspective.”

I looked away. “Is that a disclaimer?”

“It’s a fact.”

“So why don’t you fill me in on the whole story?” I tucked one leg underneath me and faced him, but left some distance between us — a physical reminder I had reasons not to just jump on him.

Julian stared across the room, contemplating.

I gave him a couple of minutes, then sighed in exasperation and made to get up.

“Andreas found me when I was around twenty-eight years old,” Julian began.

I settled back again, blinking at him.

“You said you wanted the whole story.”

I nodded for him to continue.

“I was twenty-eight, and working on a ship in the Mediterranean. I had no family and no future. I lost myself in drink or women. Brawling. Gambling, when I could afford it. Life was work, pain, and violence. Then Andreas came. He showed me a life of excitement. Intrigue, robbery, battle after bloody battle — no rules. Complete freedom. He said it could last forever. I had nothing holding me to the world of the living, so I chose to die. We spent more than a century traveling the world together. It was always dangerous, and always the two of us.” He paused, as if recounting the details to himself. There was no expression on his face — no way to tell if what he was remembering was happy or not.

“We came to America to make our fortune. Andreas wanted land. But times had changed. There were so many requirements, and so much to learn — paperwork, taxes, identities. We’d never needed them before, but the world was more crowded, and the governments were stricter. It was impossible to be invisible anymore, and the Undead were at risk of being discovered. The Cloak took matters into their own hands. The Magistrates reformed the ancient Undead laws. They wrote the Code, and enforced it.”

“What year was it?”

He cocked his head, remembering. “The Code was first published in 1927.”

“Are you trying to tell me you’re like…two hundred years old?”

Julian shrugged. “Give or take. I don’t know what year I was born. I wasn’t literate at the time. Peasants didn’t keep track of those things.”

No wonder the past was such a touchy subject with Julian — with so much of it behind him, it had to be exhausting to even think about. “Where were you born?”

“Crete. My mother was Greek, my father, something a little darker.” He gestured down to the wide expanse of his bronze-toned skin.

“Wow,” was all I could think to say. It excited me to learn more about him, as unbelievable as it was. For once, Julian seemed to be okay with telling me, which relieved some of my insecurities. Of course, it helped that he was half-naked, and that his melodious voice eased me into a serene state, regardless of what he said. “What about the last century? After you got to America, then what?”

He nodded and went on. “With the Code being enforced, it was harder than before to stay out of trouble. But Andreas was never a conformist. We went Rogue. If anything, it made things more…interesting. We had to carve our living out of a world where we couldn’t exist — not to the humans, not to the Grigori, not even to our own kind. Andreas was ingenious at supplying our operation, and I was responsible for keeping up with the times. We were a perfect team. Another society emerged, a web of others like us. Despite the best efforts of the Cloak, we persisted.”

I leaned forward on my elbows. “Until?”

“Until he got caught. Trying to rescue friends of ours who’d been apprehended.”

“And left you alone.” I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to spend two centuries with someone, and then lose them.

“Not alone,” Julian corrected.

“Oh, right. You had Monique.” This was the part Carl knew, or according to Julian, didn’t quite know.

“It was one of the luxuries our lifestyle allowed. Under the Code, Undead can only choose their lovers among other Undead. As Rogues, we didn’t have that stipulation.”

“Sure,” I said. “No sex without blood, no blood from humans, so no sex with humans. Got it.”

“They re-wrote the Code as if it was to protect humans from us. As if in taking a donor you make a blood slave out of them. But that’s only partially true. It’s a double-edged blade. Unless you turn them, blood donors are mortal. They die. It’s painful to watch someone you are so bonded to perish. Many Undead went crazy from it. Before the Code, the rule was not to keep a donor longer than five years. But they attacked the problem at the root and made it illegal, unless you were sponsoring them to become an Undead. All for secrecy, which is—”

“Paramount. I know.” I rolled my eyes. “Why five years?”

Julian shrugged. “The bond with a donor grows stronger over time.”

Which made total sense. I could imagine the more time I spent with Carl, the more he would grow on me. Even the short interlude we’d shared had left me hungry for more — no pun intended. “How long were you with Monique?”

Julian swallowed hard. “Seven years. Five years before Andreas was captured.”

I frowned, doing the math. Together for seven years, eight years ago. She had met him when she was…about my age. “Would you have left her sooner if—”

Julian met my frown with a sour look, and I thought maybe I had overstepped some boundary. “She was the only person I could trust.”

“I understand,” I said, even though I knew I didn’t. Couldn’t. Julian was right. There was more to it than Carl could have possibly guessed.

“After two more years, I had to do something to help Andreas. I owed him that much, and I…”

“You missed him.” That much I could relate to. I had spent most of my life pushing people away and coping with the resulting loneliness. Julian had lost his best friend and companion, a bond compounded over several lifetimes, with a metaphysical hitch to boot. I was amazed he held out two years. Monique must have been a really good distraction.

Julian stared straight ahead of him, appearing lost in thought. I reminded myself to be more patient with him in the future. He had a lot of memories to sift through. “An opportunity presented itself, and I took it.”

“And became an enforcer,” I finished for him, “for the people holding him hostage.”

Julian flinched at my words. “He would have done the same for me. It’s complicated.”

“It’s pretty fucked up.”

“That too.”

So that was Julian’s big secret. He was two hundred years old — give or take — and had given himself up to the service of a Code he didn’t believe in, to save his best friend from an eternity of imprisonment. I was such an ingrate for doubting him. “So, you joined the Cloak and left Monique.”