Forsaken by the Others (5 page)

His wry smile didn’t match the look in his eyes. “To a degree, yes. There are two
things that may be of some interest to you. Firstly, I am sure you must have given
some thought to what your family must have been doing in your absence.”

Actually, I hadn’t, and I was more than a little ashamed to realize this was the first
time I’d given them more than a passing thought in quite awhile. Royce must have mistaken
my stricken look, because he was quick to reassure me. “Your father had a mild heart
attack, but he is out of the hospital and at home with your mother again. Your brothers
have been paying them regular visits, and all four of them have been staying away
from the press. Some of my people have been assigned to guard them at all hours, so
you don’t have any reason to be concerned about their well-being.”

That was good to know. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, though
my relief was short-lived.

“As for the other . . . I thought about keeping it to myself as I felt no need to
alarm you or make you worry about yet another thing you have no control over. However,
considering your current condition, it may be best for you to know that whatever this
infection is, it may be a sign that you will find yourself drawn to run with the other
Sunstrikers or perhaps force you into shifting should you be in their proximity during
the full moon. It is part of the reason I think it a very good idea to send you away
for the time being.”

Tension drew all the muscles in my neck and back into sudden, painful knots. To think,
if I had chosen to hunt with Chaz and the White Hats instead of come after Royce,
I might not have been able to walk away from the pack after the fight.

Though I wished someone had said something to me sooner, I couldn’t exactly blame
Royce for keeping his silence. If he had said something about it while I was still
under the influence of the belt, I might have rushed out to destroy what remained
of the pack to ensure they would have no hold over me.

“I know that look,” Royce said, drawing my attention off my clenched fists in my lap
to meet his gaze. “No more running off. Things are under control now. We have a plan.
Even if it isn’t ideal, it is better than the other options available to us at the
moment.”

That he said available to us—not to me or to him—went a long way toward making me
feel better about the way things were going. As Royce had said, it wasn’t ideal, but
it was enough for the moment. He accepted the hand I slid into his, twining his cool
fingers with mine.

“I wish,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to my temple and breathe his next words
in a husky whisper against my skin, “that I had more time to romance you properly
now that you’re open to the prospect.”

“When I get back,” I replied, tilting my head to reciprocate his kiss.

He leaned in to me, his free hand rising to cup my cheek. The other tightened around
my fingers, pulling me close. While he held me tight, this wasn’t exactly like it
had been last night. There was a touch of desperation in the hungry way his lips slanted
over mine. It was in the way he pressed against me, in the small sound he made in
the back of his throat as my lips parted so I could slide my tongue along his and
taste the mint he had used to cover the underlying trace of salt and copper from the
blood he must have drunk, and in the way his fingers moved over my skin. Though he
was possessive, we both knew this was our good-bye, and that it might be the last
time we held each other for a year or more.

It was a bittersweet way to end the night, but in that too short span we did everything
we could to say without words what we felt, fighting to fit in years of need and repressed
desire before the break of dawn.

The flight and our arrival were uneventful. Prior to the flight, Sara and I spent
most of the day left to our own devices. The majority of the vampires were taking
their day rest, or busy on watch, and the flight wasn’t scheduled until late afternoon.
I had hoped I might get to talk to my family or update the two cops who had helped
me stay a step ahead of whoever in the NYPD was after me, but we were advised to keep
the rest of our calls to a minimum until we were safely out of town. Royce couldn’t
spend much time with me since he was busy with his lawyers and some mess at his corporate
office that he was trying to handle by phone. The last thing he managed to tell me
before he sent me back down to Sara was not to put my trust in Clyde—which made me
feel ever so much better about this trip we were about to take.

For a little while, Analie kept us company, telling us stories about her best friend,
Freddy, and her caretaker, Gavin. The Goliaths didn’t sound so bad when she was talking
about them, but I was sure Sara and I wouldn’t be as welcome as someone who had been
born and raised into the pack—especially if we showed up at Gavin’s place covered
in the scent of vampires.

After hours of going bonkers with a combination of boredom and nerves, we were taken
to a private airport. Though I knew little about planes, the one we were escorted
onto was sleek, pristine, and full of so many gadgets and amenities that I was afraid
to touch anything inside in case it might break. Sara was more at home, staying in
her seat and reading a book while I prowled around the cabin.

A flight attendant came in at one point to see if we needed anything and tried to
show me what a few of the doodads did, but it wasn’t as fun to poke around with someone
following me around and sounding like she was parroting off a sales brochure. Eventually,
exhaustion crept up on me, and I did my best to nap while we sped in our little flying
tin can across the expanse of the United States.

Once we drew close to our destination, the flight attendant explained we were about
to arrive at the Santa Monica airport, and that Mr. Royce had made arrangements for
our pick-up and transportation to our destination. I stared out the window as we approached,
noting the nearby ocean and pier and all of the tiny buildings and cars looking like
toy models from this height. As we drew closer, I grew more and more nervous. Eventually
I pulled the shade over the window and clutched at the armrests of my seat, closing
my eyes. Sara laughed at me, but I didn’t care. Much.

The landing jarred us a little bit, but we arrived in one piece, so I couldn’t complain.
Once we were on the ground, I opened the window again, peering out. The plane taxied
off of the runway and into a huge, whitewashed hangar, the big door sliding shut once
the plane stopped inside. A few minutes later, duffel slung over my shoulder, Sara
and I stepped onto the gleaming white floor, glittering with polish that reflected
the lamps high above our heads.

A gentleman in a suit and reflective shades was waiting for us, gesturing that we
should follow him. He didn’t bother to wait to see if we did as we were bid. When
I checked over my shoulder, someone else had grabbed the rest of our bags. Sara and
I exchanged a look, then shrugged and followed.

He led us across the huge bay of the hangar, empty save for the plane we’d arrived
in, and out through a people-sized door on the other side. An ocean-scented breeze
whipped my hair around. Once I brushed it back, I was greeted by the sight of a sleek
white limo. The man who had led us out was now holding the limo door and waiting for
us, his expression clearly indicating he was bored and unimpressed with us. Though
I knew he was impatient to get out of here, I took a moment to look around. This was
my first time in Santa Monica, after all.

The nearby mountains were oddly brown and dead—nothing like the vibrant greens of
the Catskills. The sky was alive with a splash of strange oranges and reds, a sunset
like nothing I’d ever seen back East. Palm trees were
everywhere.
Funny looking cacti mixed with some weird flowers that had long green stems, nearly
as tall as I was, topped with spiky orange and dark purplish flowers, planted alongside
the building, sprucing up the otherwise plain white structure. A touch of the wild
in the otherwise carefully deliberate landscaping.

Sara entered the limo, and I soon followed suit. The man shut the door behind us,
and I heard the luggage being tossed in the trunk. Despite the more than generous
size of the passenger area, which probably could have fit half a dozen people comfortably,
it was claustrophobic in the plush interior of that limo, and neither of us wanted
to speak.

Soon, the driver got in, turning his head just enough to acknowledge our existence.
“Mr. Seabreeze extends his welcome. He’s hosting a party in your honor tonight. You’ll
be staying in the guesthouse. We can stop there first if you’d prefer to freshen up,
but he was very insistent that he would like to meet you right away.”

“I would rather meet him first.”

Sara didn’t see any reason to delay meeting our host either. “So would I. If we’re
going to be stuck here for a while, I want to know who and what I’ll be dealing with.”

The driver adjusted his rearview mirror to look us over, probably not realizing we
could see his features at that angle, too. I got the impression it was the first time
he was really looking at us—and that he didn’t approve of what he saw. His lip curled
slightly before he turned his attention ahead again, starting the limo. “As you wish.”

Though it wasn’t my first time in a limo, this wasn’t something I did every day. For
Sara, this was old hat. She lounged back and watched with some amusement as I fiddled
with all of the buttons and panels, discovering the hidden TV (how the hell do you
get cable access in a car?), satellite radio, selection of drinks, and even something
that tinted and untinted the windows. Special sunproofing for the vampire, maybe?

Soon, it wasn’t the car, but what was passing by outside that drew my attention. It
didn’t take long for us to reach a ridiculously extravagant area, full of small but
manicured-to-within-an-inch-of-the-property-line lawns with weird ornaments and excessive
lighting, while the houses themselves, each one seemingly bigger than the next, looked
like they belonged in TV shows or movies. Come to think of it, this was part of Los
Angeles, so they probably
were
in TV shows and movies.

For the first time in my life, I was intimidated by buildings.

Sara did not appear concerned, but I was seriously reconsidering making that pit stop
at the guesthouse to change into something more appropriate than jeans and T-shirts
before visiting this Seabreeze guy. Though with a name like that, I had the feeling
I was going to have a very hard time taking him seriously, even if he was a very rich
and important vampire who lived in a mansion.

I figured now was as good a time as any to let Royce know we’d arrived safely. Tugging
the cell phone out of the pocket of my duffel I’d shoved it into, I scrolled through
the few contacts already in the phone.

Someone had been quite thoughtful. Not only had they added Royce’s cell, but they’d
included Royce’s head of security, Angus, as well as Mouse, Wes, and a few other familiar
names, too. If I needed to reach anyone in a hurry, there were multiple ways for me
to do it.

Royce picked up after a couple of rings, though he sounded a bit distracted until
he realized it was me.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know we made it here in one piece.”

“Good. Have you met with Clyde yet?”

“No,” I said, glancing at the driver again, “not yet. We’re on our way from the airport
right now.”

“All right. Call me immediately if he makes any effort to alter or renege on our agreement.
And be careful, my little hunter. I want you to come home to me safely.”

“I will,” I promised. “You owe me a hell of a romantic evening after this.”

He laughed and whispered a promise to do something to me once I got back that had
me blushing so hard, I thought I might ignite by the power of my mixed mortification
and desire alone. Cripes, I hoped to hell Sara hadn’t overheard, though judging by
the look she was giving me it wasn’t totally unlikely.

She didn’t ask, and I didn’t say anything as I ended the call and shoved the phone
back in the duffel, still hot with embarrassment. Rather than meet her gaze, I turned
my attention to the world passing by. If we were going to be stuck here for weeks
or months, I might as well get to know where we were going.

Not that watching the route we took was helping much. We were soon lost in a maze
of houses. I would have no hope of finding my way around here without the help of
GPS or a map. Few of the streets seemed to run in straight lines. Some curved with
the landscape. It was strange and not a little unsettling to a girl who was used to
the straightforward streets that ran in simple north-south-east-west lines in New
York.

After a while, we were beyond the “mildly impressive and not a little intimidating”
mansions and were now drifting past the “are people even allowed to live in these
places” estates. The limo turned into a short driveway and pulled up to a manned security
station. The driver said something to a guy in a uniform with a clipboard, and then
we were beyond the huge, metal gates and prowling past a few fairytale homes that
should have been—scratch that—probably were regularly featured on the covers of magazines
like
We Have Better Homes & Gardens Than You.

Thus, it was not a little disconcerting when we reached one that had a slew of expensive
import and sports cars jamming the streets around it and sat somewhat above the others
on a rise.

It was enormous. It looked more like it should be housing a slew of families, not
a coven of vampires. Though there were curtains drawn behind all of the many windows,
there were occasional flashes of what I thought might be a strobe light filtering
around the edges on the first floor. Even from within the limo and half a block away,
a heavy bass thump rhythmically vibrated under my feet.

Still, something about the place made it seem as if it were standing in silent judgment
over the other homes, and finding them wanting.

The driver spoke up, drawing my attention off the small but carefully sculpted water
gardens on either side of the long, winding driveway. Funny, I thought I’d heard somewhere
that this part of California was in a drought.

“Your bags will be delivered to the guest house.”

Guess that meant I had to leave the duffel in the limo. Not a bad idea. It would probably
look pretty tacky lugging it around, and I didn’t like the idea of wandering the halls
of this particular master vampire’s house with a cheap department store knock-off
instead of a designer travel bag. I already felt out of place. No need to add to the
raging insecurities I was already dealing with.

“Oh, and a word of advice, ladies.”

Sara and I both gave the driver our full attention. I had the feeling we were going
to need all the help we could get to fit in here. Clearly Clyde was not above flaunting
his money.

Our chauffeur wasn’t looking at us as he brought the limo to a smooth stop in front
of the path leading to the brightly lit French double doors. One of the trio of armed
security guards at the door came down the steps and opened the car door for us as
the driver left us with some parting words of wisdom.

“Don’t mention the hair.”

With that cryptic statement, the two of us were left to face the security guard, who
was doing a decent impression of a brick wall while he held the door and waited for
us to decide if we were going to come out. Sara edged her way out first, accepting
the guy’s hand as he helped her to the curb. If he thought her “Yes, I Run Like A
Girl—Try To Keep Up” T-shirt was a bit much, he didn’t give any sign.

Once I was on my feet, I followed Sara up the steps and tried not to wince when the
doors opened and blasted us in the face with electronica music. Yet another security
guard roughly the size and dimensions of Mount Everest met us just inside. It was
too loud for us to hear much of anything, but he gestured for us to follow him.

The place was just as grand and imposing on the inside as it was outside, though the
furniture and artwork had more of that tacky-but-expensive look of red velvet and
black satin rather than the carefully maintained Barbie’s Dreamhouse architecture
and landscaping outside. Like some exclusive S&M club, except with a bunch of famous
people hanging out in the latest Hollywood chic instead of leather and chains.

Somehow, I managed not to stare. It helped that the strobe lights made it too disorienting
to keep track of the security guard if I didn’t keep my eyes locked on him, for the
most part. Though I did take a peek when Sara tapped my shoulder and jerked her chin
to the right. I squinted into the shadows, and nearly fainted at the sight of one
of my favorite actors lounging on the couch, talking with a girl who was probably
also famous, but it didn’t matter because
oh, my God,
that was
really him.

The security guard was more than a little annoyed that he had to backtrack and find
us. Even more so when he had to resort to a firm hand on our shoulders to get us moving
again. This was probably a good thing, because it reminded me to close my mouth and
not look like the ragingly obvious tourist I was.

Some of Hollywood’s finest were looking beautiful and carefree and having a great
time dancing and drinking and rubbing elbows with vampires. It was difficult to tell
which were the monsters and which were the real people, but if you looked hard enough,
you could always spot the Others. It seemed that everyone here had a touch of that
predatory mien, but only the vampires had that special glitter to their eyes.