Immortal Trust (19 page)

But as Chloe tucked her shaking hand back into her lap, she choked down a silent sob. Only one thing could score into metal like that. Claws. Great horrific claws.

She bolted to her feet and raced out of her room.

CHAPTER 17

Chloe didn’t give a damn about the many times Julian had laughed at her fears. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her for the one person she trusted without question. Down the stairs to the second floor, around the corner to the end of the hall where she banged on his door like the devil himself was on her tail.

“Julian!” She drummed her fist again.

When silence answered, she dropped her forehead to the aged wood and let out a sob. The one time she needed him more than anything, and he was off chasing skirts. Damn it! She sagged against the door, defeated. Demons broke through her ward. Trashed her room.
Touched
her belongings.

Little particles of ice beat through her heart, sending shivers coursing down her spine. Rivulets of fear spread through her veins until her hands trembled violently and she couldn’t stop the tears from breaking free. They wanted her. Wanted the Veil. And she was helpless to stop it.

“Oh God, Julian, where are you?” she cried in a plaintive whisper. Safety lay behind his door. An escape from the nightmare, even if it was an illusion that would only last until he fell asleep and she was left with the dark.

The presence settled around her, driving her away from the door. She glanced over her shoulder, half afraid she’d find the creature standing in the hall. She couldn’t stay here. For the first time since they’d attached to her, the demons had breeched a physical barrier. Standing in the empty hall left her open for attack. And God only knew what they might do to her.

If he even cared.

She stumbled blindly down the stairs, heading to the only other place she could think of—to Lucan. She didn’t have to tell him about the demons, but maybe he could keep her company for a bit. Stay while she put her room back together and talk long enough so she could shove this night into an untouchable corner of her mind.

Stopping at his door, she wiped away her tears and lifted her chin. No crying. Not in front of him. She knocked tentatively.

He opened the door before her knuckles left the wood. One look at the concern etched around his eyes, and she knew he recognized something was wrong. He didn’t stop to ask. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and backed through the door, holding her close.

To Chloe’s shame, the dam she’d built to withhold her tears broke. Clutching at his strong shoulders, she buried her face against his chest and sobbed.

*   *   *

“Shh,” Lucan soothed as he stroked Chloe’s long hair. “What troubles you?” Her trembling was enough to unsettle the most seasoned warrior. She shook so violently, he thought for a moment she might crumble to ash. He tightened his embrace and tucked his head into the crook of her shoulder to stifle the tremors. “Easy, Chloe, I am here,” he murmured into her hair.

“Someone … broke in…”

The rest of her words trailed off with the shake of her head, but he did not need to hear them. Fighting back a fierce rush of protectiveness, he sidestepped out of her tight hold and tucked his arm around her shoulders to better escort her to the couch. There, he eased her coat off and guided her to sit beside him. He wrapped her in a gentle embrace and welcomed the way she burrowed into his chest.

For several long minutes he did naught more than hold her close and stroke her back. Life had not exposed him to this aspect of intimacy, this role of silent strength he had been thrust into, yet he found it agreeable. ’Twas oddly satisfying to absorb her tears, still the shaking of her body, and say naught at all.

But as her trembles gave way to the faint twitch of exhausted slumber, he nudged her upright. “You cannot sleep yet,” he apologized softly. “We must deal with your room. Sit, and I shall inform the desk to call the gendarme.”

“No, that’s not necessary.” Her gaze darted to the window, and she twisted her hands in her lap. “They were after the relic, which they didn’t find.”

Lucan lifted an eyebrow. She should desire the police. In particular if she suspected someone wanted the Veil. That she hesitated brought his thoughts immediately back to the dark presence that hounded her. In an attempt to gain answers, he urged her toward the logical. “You do not want the gendarmerie to document the break-in? What if you are missing something else?”

Chloe shook her head as she slipped completely from his arms. “No. If I involve the inspectors, the story will gain publicity. It’ll give more people reason to suspect we’re on to something significant in Ornes, and then I’ll have to worry about security at the site and increasing the odds of another break-in.” She ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her arms to ward off a chill. “Just come back with me and help me clean up a bit?”

Decent logic, but not sound enough. She held some piece of information back. Something that would make it plain why she found the idea of the inspectors unimportant. He would play her game. Discover for himself.

Lucan reached for the phone. “I will ask Caradoc to meet us there. Lest you object?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m not sure what he can do, but that’s fine.”

He punched in the number, waited for Caradoc to answer. “’Tis I. Chloe’s room was vandalized. Meet us there?”

“By whom?”

“I do not know. She suspects they desired the Veronica. I am taking her up to inspect it now.”

“Is she harmed?”

He looked to her, picked up her hand, and ran his thumb over the meaty part of her palm. “Scared. But safe.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

She returned the gesture with a faint smile.

“Aye, I will be there momentarily.” He clicked off without delay.

Lucan rose to his feet, pulling Chloe along with him. She moved at a slower pace, as if the night had finally sucked the last ounce of energy from her bones. Defeat touched the corners of her eyes. Because she had been violated? Or because she had been punished for failing to deliver the Veronica?

He gave himself a mental shake. ’Twas not the time to question. She needed his aid, not his suspicion.

When she reached once more for her coat, he pulled it out of her hands. “Leave it for now.”

Like a puppet controlled by strings, she nodded. No argument. No hesitation. So very unlike the stubborn woman he had come to know. It pained him to see her so.

With an inward sigh, he acknowledged ’twas naught he could do to restore her usual brightness and picked up his sword, expecting her to comment on the weapon. She said naught, did not even seem to notice as he belted it around his waist. In truth, her very demeanor suggested her mind was somewhere else, far from this room and the prospect of returning to hers.

Clutching her hand, he led her from his room. She tensed the moment they entered the hall. Frowning, Lucan hesitated. “Would you wish to stay within and have me bring something down for you?”

She gave a slight shake of her head and took a step toward the stairs. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just get this over with. I’ll feel better with my room picked up and everything in its place.”

He did not speak another word until they met Caradoc at her partly open door. The presence of demons hung thick like a low fog on a deserted country lane. In the air, the faint scent of decay lingered. He met Caradoc’s knowing gaze that communicated he too sensed Azazel’s nearness.

Instinct bade Lucan to protect Chloe, and he ushered her behind his back where if something lurked within, she would be safe from attack. One hand on the hilt of his sword, he followed Caradoc inside.

A quick survey of the chamber told him no demons waited, and he dropped his hand, along with hers. Chloe knelt before the scattered papers on the white rug. Uncertain what to do or how to aid, Lucan crossed to the crooked bed and scooted it perpendicular to the wall.

“Are you missing anything, Chloe?” Caradoc asked as he poked his head inside her bathroom.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” She let out a hard breath that stirred the hair gathered around her face. Then, as if witnessing the mess took too great a toll, her shoulders bowed and she hid her face in her hands.

Silently, Lucan knelt at her side to pick up where she had left off on her chore. How he ached to comfort her, but he had learned enough about Chloe to realize she would not want Caradoc to witness this weakness. Her pride would take a horrific blow. Instead, he lowered his voice to avoid drawing Caradoc’s attention to her distress. “Sit on the couch. We will do this.”

“No.” Sighing, she dragged her hands down her face. “I’ll be fine. There’s just so much to do.”

Caradoc crossed the room and righted a toppled lamp. “Why do you think they wanted the Veronica? Does anyone possess a key to your door? Or know you possess the relic?”

As Lucan passed Chloe the stack of papers he had gathered, the color drained from her face. “Look at the safe,” she whispered.

He looked beyond her shoulder to the far corner where the steel box sat. In that instant, Lucan understood why she did not want the authorities involved. The jagged claw marks that gouged the three-inch-thick door explained the lingering stench. She could not possibly misconstrue them.

Caradoc, however, missed her reaction and addressed the situation as if she were an uninformed mortal. “A fine axe blow.”

Chloe reared back. “Axe? I don’t know what kind of axes you’ve been using lately, but the ones I’ve seen don’t leave that behind.”

Her remark sealed Lucan’s observation—she did indeed know something unnatural put the marks in the safe. But the
why
refused to show itself. Why did she know—did she suspect from the nature of the scars, or did she witness Azazel’s attack, or did she even possess the forewarning his strike would occur?

Was she in fact baiting them mayhap?

“Tell me what happened, Chloe,” he demanded a bit more harshly than he intended.

She blinked as if she found the question absurd. “I came up here, let myself in, and this is what I found.”

“Your door was not ajar?” Bent over the safe, Caradoc inspected the damage.

“No. It was locked. And no one has a key.” More quietly she added, “There’s no one to give a key to.”

“Not Julian?” Lucan asked.

She let out a soft laugh. “Hardly. I love my brother, but I also love my space. If he had a key, he’d be hanging out every minute he’s not chasing women.”

Caradoc read Lucan’s mind and went to the window to inspect it for entry. On finding naught of significance, he drew away from the drawn curtains. “They had to come through the door. Who knows about the relic?”

“Just the team and the three of you.”

Lucan abruptly stood. If ’twas the Veronica they sought, they would continue the hunt. The team knew he had taken the relic from the site. Chloe could well be staging a diversion to purchase the time necessary to break into his room.

“Come. ’Tis naught we can do here tonight. We shall finish righting your room on the morrow.” He reached his hand out for hers.

She stared at his palm as if he had suddenly grown three extra fingers. A glimpse of her spirit broke through. “I can’t go with you. I want my bed, my belongings. I need to shower, I’ve got reports to write—there’s no way.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Lucan met her wide eyes with a severe frown. “Nay. You will not stay here tonight.”

To his immense relief, Caradoc slipped outside leaving them to argue in private. The door clicked closed behind him. Still kneeling, Chloe mirrored Lucan’s position. “I will stay here. This is
my
room. They won’t come back. They already know there’s nothing in here; I don’t have what they want. Besides, what would everyone think if I came waltzing out of yours in the morning?” When she glanced up at him, her brave words were shadowed by the fear that shone in her eyes. Clearly she did not mean what she said, but her stubbornness eluded him.

Mayhap she feared the acceptance of his invitation more—after the way she had run out of his room, he would not be surprised. “It matters little what others should think. ’Tis unsafe for you to remain here. If you wish to change your room on the morrow, then I will aid you. But tonight you will stay with me.”

Her eyes glittered bright. “That’s very convenient for you, isn’t it?”

A spark of anger lit, threatening to push him into full temper. He had not offered out of selfishness. Had not even fully considered she would be near to him beyond the immediate matter of her safety. Her insinuation affronted his honor, and slights to such had warranted death for many men.

Moreover, it added strength to his suspicion she argued not the idea of leaving her room, but staying with him. Ridiculous, when he could protect her better than any wall or locked door. Lucan reigned in his rising anger. “I will not argue this with you, Chloe. Lest you wish me to carry you from this room, you will gather your belongings and cease your protests.”

Her eyes clashed with his, and he prepared himself to prove his words. Regardless of her involvement with the break-in, he would not jeopardize her safety by leaving her here unattended. And he could not leave his own room empty all night either. Although indeed, he could gather the relic and bring it here, and further camp himself upon her couch, he could not justify the unnecessary effort. He also suspected that if he were to leave, she would not allow him entrance again tonight.

But Chloe must have sensed his resolve, for as she glanced around her room, the anger fled from her expression. Though she did not look pleased with the prospect, and her words came as if they required great effort, she admitted, “I guess staying here would be rather stupid.”

He refrained from comment, certain his affirmation would only reignite her ire. Instead, he picked up her pillow and shook it free from the case. He offered the soft white linen to her. “This will serve to hold your things. Tell me how I may help.”

She pushed the pillowcase aside, refusing it as she rose to her feet. “I’ll come back in the morning. I only need a couple of things.”