In the Dark (6 page)

“Except for the red eyes and fangs, the demons could've passed for human men. No discoloration or sunken skin. Worse, they didn't act mindless or desperate. One spoke to me, and he was completely coherent,” Soren said, shaking his head in disbelief. “More unbelievable, and what I dread to say out loud, is that it seemed normal to Gustav. Unwanted and hated, but normal.”

“They might be a different breed of sorts,” Julian offered.

“Very possible.” Navarre nodded.

“The creatures should be eliminated,” Julian said.

“What say you, my lord?” Bareth's booming voice filled the room. “Shall we wipe them out once more?”

“I'm not yet certain we have a problem. They could have been stragglers from another city, another country. I won't send men out to hunt them, not when Soren likely killed them all.” Navarre looked around the table, waiting for argument. “We will wait for the scouts to report.”

“Just like Soren to get a hold of those demon bastards first.” Bareth chuckled.

“You never leave anything for us old men sadly out of practice, do you?” Julian said with a smile.

“If I weren't High Justice, I wouldn't get a chance to swing a sword. It's why I took the job. Needed my exercise. At least that's what Gretta says,” Bareth said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Gretta's right.” Vidor laughed. “You are getting rather thick in the middle.”

“My woman's always right.” A knowing smile spread on Bareth's face.

“Captain, you've been quiet,” Vidor said, glancing at the captain who had stood in silence.

The captain sucked in a breath, sounding as if he were exhausted and looked not at all thrilled at being singled out. “I'm here solely to gain information for the protection of Navarre, and the entire city. I have no opinions.”

“You're on the council. Your opinion counts a great deal,” Vidor pushed.

“I do as my lord commands.” The captain's calm level stare made Vidor hastily end his pressuring.

“Good to hear,” said Navarre. “Captain, inform the Guardians at the gate of these new creatures. Meeting adjourned.”

The councilmen exited the room, but Soren stayed. After everyone except Navarre and the captain had left, he finally asked the question burning for release. “What if they are after her?”

“I won't give up a female, even if she's not vampire. She's here now, and she's yours. I refuse to negotiate with demons. But should we find more, the council will demand a hunt.” Navarre reclined in his chair, though he didn't relax. “Captain?”

Silence hung in the air, and for the longest time, Soren thought the captain wouldn't answer his lord.

“When you hunt things down, you unavoidably miss one or two.” Captain Savard spoke slowly, deliberately. “One man with a vengeance is a dangerous thing. Imagine two.”

What he'd witnessed surprised him. The captain did have an opinion. He'd merely saved it for Navarre.

Navarre nodded. “Agreed. Do what you can, Captain. I have no interest in revisiting our past.”

At his words, the captain left to no doubt do what he did best. Defense.

“Thank you,” Soren said. “Her safety means a great deal to me.”

Navarre stood. “She's not the hysterical type, is she?”

“No.” Soren blinked a couple times as he processed the question. “Not at all. In fact, she seems rather level headed.”

“Good. Bring her to last meal. I'd like to meet her,” Navarre said as he walked from the council room, not waiting for Soren's response.

Time to go home. With Faith's future now certain, he breathed easier, but each step toward home hit the ground urgently. She was alone, and even though Steffen guarded his door, he didn't trust her.

He rounded the corner, and immediately asked, “Did she run again?”

Steffen shook his head, already walking away. “Nope.”

Half expecting her to bash him in the head, he opened the door cautiously, but encountered only silence. The lights had been left on in every room. He didn't see her, or hear her.

A stinging lump rose in his throat. If she hadn't run, then where did she go? Had something happened to her? The thought terrified him more than he cared to admit.

He entered his bedroom, and the tension fled from his chest. She'd kept her word.

At the scene before him, he shook his head. Faith lay sprawled on her stomach across his bed, her right arm folded over her heart, left arm pressed somewhere between her stomach and the comforter. The sight of her hair completely covering her face, her nose peeking out, almost made him laugh out loud.

Regaining his composure, he covered her with a blanket. He should have turned around then, walked away, found the couch and let sleep take him. Instead he remained there, smiling.

Something was wrong with her, or maybe him. He rarely lost his temper, and never with a woman. But he had with her. When he'd seen her running across the grass, his heart nearly stopped with fear. Steffen had been close by, ready to kill. Yet he remained thankful Steffen's shift hadn't ended. No one else would have recognized Faith.

Then he'd yelled at her. He hadn't meant to raise his voice, but he couldn't control himself at the time. She put him on edge. He'd been insanely jealous of Steffen simply speaking to her, and ready to fight a council member over his right to keep her. She unhinged him.

Soren controlled the urge to brush her hair from her face. He wanted to lie next to her and pull her against his chest, and just hold her. As strange as it sounded, sleep held no appeal if he couldn't have her beside him.

He couldn't recall standing over a woman as he did now, wondering if she needed anything he could provide. Did she need another blanket? Had she gone to sleep hungry? What kind of daily rituals did she have? Would she mind if he lay beside her?

With a growl, he closed his eyes, and turned away from her. His instincts screamed at him, demanding he bind her to him as his mate. Those internal impulses always had a reason, a solid need for being present, but this time he couldn't understand them. Faith already belonged to him. According to his laws, he could do anything he wanted with her, but it wasn't enough.

If he mated her, she'd have to become vampire. It would be an all or nothing deal. She couldn't be turned without being his mate, and she couldn't be his mate without being turned. This kind of thing should only be considered if…

Most vampires mated, binding themselves to someone they loved. Rarely, though, did a vampire find their true mate. Histories and legends said the only thing more potent than the calling of the sun was the pull of your other half, the one meant to save you from death and give you life.

Staring at Faith, he couldn't believe it possible. Not after all these years, not with a human.

Placing his hand on the mattress, he leaned closer, wanting to somehow test his theory.

Faith woke with a start as the mattress dipped, rolled onto her back. She peered up at him, but her eyelids remained mostly closed, as if she were unprepared for the bright light of the room. “What is it? What's wrong?” she mumbled, still half asleep and groggy.

“Nothing, get your rest.” He'd forced out the words, unsure if he lied to her, or himself.

She flopped back onto her stomach. Readjusting herself on the bed, she tucked her hands under her body. Before long, her breathing became even.

Soren pulled a thickly cushioned chair near the bed and watched her sleep. The possibility she was his one true mate could not be denied, but he would ignore that hope and be pleased with reality. She chased away the loneliness in his life, even if fate hadn't handpicked her for him. Caring for her gave him a new purpose, a different reason to live.

Chapter 6

Soren woke in his chair near nightfall to find Faith staring at him. She sat cross-legged on the bed, her hair mussed and the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“You were gone a long time.”

“I know. The meeting ran long.” He hadn't expected her to wake first. Her alert gaze threw him off-kilter.

“About the demons?”

“Yes, and you don't need to worry about them.”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she processed his words, then she nodded slowly. “I need you to answer a question,” she said, projecting a steady resolve.

Sitting straight in his chair, he rubbed his hands over his face, hoping his brain would wake up enough to function. “What do you want to know?”

“Are you the only one who can, um, bite me?” she asked as she tucked her chin under the blanket.

He blinked at her for a moment. “I won't allow another to touch you.”

Her shoulders dropped, and she no longer looked directly at him. He didn't know her well enough yet, and had difficulty interpreting her actions. Had his words brought her disappointment, or relief?

“It's freezing in here,” she said, a lame attempt at moving past the topic of biting.

He'd turned down the heat when he'd gone above. Feeding always left him warm, and he hadn't noticed the chill. “The thermostat is there on the wall.” He pointed at it, then stretched in the chair. “Turn the heat up to wherever you like. We'll be heading out soon. The shower is all yours. By the time you get out, the room should be comfortable.”

Faith got out of bed, her clothes rumpled and wrinkled. Her first stop, the thermostat. She didn't waste any time pulling specific items from her suitcase. Instead, she dragged the whole thing into the bathroom.

Soren waited patiently for the door to latch, then he pulled his clothes from the dresser. After he'd changed, he went back to the dresser and kept pulling out his clothes. He stacked the bottom two drawers full, leaving the top two empty for her. The clothes that rebelled against being shoved into their new home would be tossed in the laundry basket and dealt with later.

He didn't have any experience with someone else living in his home and didn't know what would make her comfortable. Clearing some of his space seemed like a good first compromise. He pulled the empty drawer out slightly for her to find it herself.

Faith finally came from the bathroom, and he called out from where he waited in the living room, “I'm in here.”

She fluffed her hair as she walked into the room.

“How's your head?” he asked.

“Not bad. The dizziness stopped, and today I just have a dull headache.” She sat across from him, trailing her fingers over the burgundy crushed velvet loveseat. “This is beautiful.”

“Thank you. It belonged to my mother. She had a ridiculous weakness for settees, and my father happily indulged her. Every few months I switch this one out for another in storage.” What should he make of her pleasant attitude? She'd been attacked, abducted, and now permanently kept. That she was so calm was odd.

“I can't wait to see what the next one looks like,” she said, a quick smile crossing her face.

“You seem rather at ease with your captivity, especially after your attempted escape.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and awaited her explanation. She was acting strange, and he made a mental note to watch her closely.

“I still don't agree with you. I'm not yours. But I do accept that I'm stuck here with you.”

“What makes you give up easily? Have you no backbone?” She flinched at his words, and he regretted them, but not enough to retract them.

“My backbone shows up when I need it, and right now, I don't. I can't leave. Why try? I'd rather make the best of what I have.”

“No family?”

She shrugged, leaving his question unanswered.

“Then why run?”

“You left me alone with that big scary man,” she said, pointing at him. “I saw his teeth, and he's the same as you. He could have easily killed me before you came back.”

“He'd never hurt you. I forgot how intimidating he could be.” Damn. He should have considered she might fear Bareth. Her courage, though, made him smile. “I'm sorry he frightened you, but honestly, you did better than most when they first meet Bareth.”

“Really? Why? Is it because he's so large?”

“In part, but mostly because he's an excellent swordsman with the brute strength to back his blade. He's also Viking, a heritage that tends to make even vampires fear him.”

“I didn't think Vikings could be vampires,” she said, shaking her head.

“There are more of us than you'd expect.” Eyes wide with wonder, tempting lips parted, amazement looked good on her.

“You're a Viking?”

He nodded. “A descendant.”

“Well, that explains the…” She pointed at him, then brought her hands to her shoulders and spread them wide.

“Genetically speaking, that has more to do with my father being on the large side, but thank you for noticing,” he said with a teasing wink. “Bareth and his wife have been friends of mine for a long time.”

“Someone married him? Brave woman.”

He shook his head. “Lucky woman. Bareth is a good man, a good protector, and a great father.”

Soren opened his mouth to speak, but a knock at the door stopped him. A glance at the clock, and he had a good guess who would be here this early in the night. He popped open the door.

“Elin, how are you?” he asked the willowy vampire. Long wavy hair tumbled over her shoulders, framing her angelic face and hiding the beading over the top of her frothy blue gown.

Like always, she refused to answer. “You're back.”

“It's nice to be home,” he said with a short nod.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” she asked.

“No. Tomorrow is fine. Wait,” he said, stopping her as she began to turn away. “Elin, can I ask a favor?”

“Anything.” She sounded pleased he'd asked, and eager to help.

Soren cleared his throat. “I need a gown.”

Her eyes opened wide and she leaned in. “Why?” she whispered.

He stepped aside, giving Elin a clear view of Faith sitting comfortably in his home. Elin's expression changed from curiosity to surprise.

“Just for tonight. I don't have time to find something suitable for her,” he said.

“All right. I'll leave one here while you're out.” She looked between them suspiciously before turning away.

“Elin solved one problem for me,” he said to Faith, clapping his hands. “The second problem is you. I have things to do today, and since I need to be certain you won't run again, you'll go with me.”

* * * *

“I said I wouldn't run, and I meant it.” For him to think she made a habit of lying really got under her skin. Faith took a deep breath.

“I'm in the business of not trusting people. Forgive me if it takes me some time to trust you.” Soren opened the door, waiting for her to join him.

She swept past him, and walked beside him through the red corridor. Could she blame him for being suspicious? Not really. They were practically strangers. “What exactly is it you do? And come to think of it, what is your name?”

“Soren Rayner. I train young men in the art of combat and defense,” he said, steering her right when she would have continued straight.

She studied his profile. What sort of man took on such a thing as a day to day job? “I can honestly say you're the first I've met in the profession.”

“I'm certain I am.” He smiled, stopping at a door and holding it open.

She brushed past him and paused to take in the size of the training facility. The door on the left looked like an entrance from a locker room, and the gym equipment on the right side of the room had been arranged in a maze. Thick mats lined three walls, and a wide variety of weapons hung on the fourth.

“Gawk and sit, please. My students will arrive shortly,” Soren said, pointing out a short bench.

She hadn't realized she'd stopped until his voice prompted her to move. Collecting herself, she sat as Soren headed for the next room.

Head resting against the padded wall, she took in the medieval weapons. The variety ranged from broadswords to crossbows, and above them, lances hung like trophies. Did Soren know how to use these?

He walked past her without checking on her, or if he had, she'd missed it completely. He'd changed into a white T-shirt and loose, black pants with two stripes running down the outsides of his legs. He looked more human this way, like a regular guy going to work out at the gym.

Several young men entered from the adjoining room, acting every bit like wild teenagers. Laughing and pushing each other across the room, calming once they stood before Soren.

“Are you ready to begin?” he asked.

“Yes,” the seven boys said in unison.

“Good. Today I'm teaching you to use your eyes. Keeping them open and being aware of your surroundings will save your life,” he said, his gaze moving to rest on each boy. “All eyes stay on me. Another man is in the room. What color is his shirt?”

The boys shifted their weight from foot to foot, but no one spoke.

“Am I telling the truth? Is a man in here? You don't know, and if you don't know, how can you be certain there is no threat on your life? Not one of you can give me any description. If it were a demon, you'd all be dead.” Faith held her breath as Soren pointed at her. Seven heads turned her way, their displeased teacher behind them. Gearing up for a lecture, by his expression. “You've completely missed the fact that you walked past a woman.”

She lifted her hand, waving her fingers at them, though she didn't smile. She'd landed them in trouble, but understood the importance of this lesson. Maybe if Soren had trained her to pay attention better, she wouldn't be here now.

She hadn't expected awareness to be the lesson of the day, but it made sense. Soren excelled at catching details. She'd seen him fight above, witnessed him track the demon outside Gustav's home.

Those poor boys still looked startled to see her alone on the bench, but as Soren barked out directions, they scrambled for their swords, eager to begin practice.

For over an hour she sat in this same spot, watching him wield a great deal of patience with the boys. The gangly youths took uncoordinated swings at their partners, and a time or two, she bit her lip to keep from giggling.

They got an A for effort, but clearly some weren't cut out for this kind of thing. Talented or not, Soren worked with each of them.

After their practice ended and the boys left the room, he approached her, a smile tugging at his lips. “I thank you for controlling yourself. A woman's laughter would crush their fragile egos.”

“Were they some of your better students?” she teased.

He gave her a brief smile. “They've only been training a week, and they're still green. It's what happens when aristocrats want to play at being Guardians. The next group, however, are seriously training.”

“I see,” she said, more an automatic response than one of understanding. She guessed every culture had military or police, and it only made sense for vampires to have their version.

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I'm fine.” Stifling a yawn, she stretched. He nodded, leaving her to prepare for his next class.

Vampires, as a species, were born with strength. She'd assumed the ability to fight would have come naturally. Though after observing the first set of trainees, she'd quickly changed her mind. They desperately needed a teacher, even for those unable to join the Guardians. Directing their strength was a necessary lesson.

Male laughter sounded, and five young men came through the door, not much older than twenty. This group seemed more confident than the first, and the three in front strode in with their chests puffed out. Shaking her head, she smiled. Men were the same everywhere. When in front of their friends, they all acted cock-of-the-walk.

The two trailing the main group, however, remained separate. Their quiet and reserved behavior didn't hide their friendship. Both men glanced at her in a head to toe sweep. A tremor shook her shoulders. She'd just been studied and judged, she felt it in her bones. After they turned to Soren and she was no longer on their radar, she sank back against the wall, the tension easing from her gut. She crossed her legs, settling in for another long training exercise.

As soon as she moved, the largest in the group of three stopped and glared at her, dark hatred shining through his eyes. She shrank away from this menacing man's glower, at least as far as the wretchedly solid wall allowed.

“You don't belong here,” he sneered, revealing his fangs.

“But I—”

“Leave.” He reached for her, and she had nowhere to go.