In the Dark (21 page)

What was wrong with everyone? Couldn't they see its face? That thing—it wasn't human! Why were they all just standing there?

But, no…not all of them were.

Suzanne gasped in horror as Conrad calmly approached the creature. His steps were slow and measured. His voice seemed barely a whisper, yet it carried clearly in the cold night air. “Who are you that dares to come into my domain and threaten what belongs to me? What House are you from? Answer me quickly and you might live to see it again.”

The creature licked its lips and snarled again, crouching a little…

Like it's getting ready to spring!
Suzanne gasped in horror. “Conrad, no!” Wrenching herself from Armand's grasp, she lunged forward. “Keep back. Stay away from him. He's a monster!”

At the sound of her voice, Conrad's head whipped around. Their eyes met. Suzanne stiffened in disbelief. “No.”
Not possible
. Conrad's eyes had gone molten. A shimmering red-gold color now, they flickered and burned like hellfire. “That can't be.”

His eyes—they're just like the glass
. The realization, when it hit her, shattered her disbelief.
And I knew it, too. I must have known it all along. What have I been doing here all this time? What have I been thinking?

Conrad's gaze moved past her, white fangs clearly visible as he snarled, “Armand! Do as I say!”

This time, Suzanne needed no persuasion. Even before Conrad had turned back to face her attacker, she was gone. Armand's hands tried to claim her, but she twisted away, evading his grasp, pushing through the watching crowd, fleeing toward the lights and the sounds and the safety of the house.

 

Armand watched helplessly as the girl raced across the lawn. Did he go after her? Or stay here? His first loyalty was to Conrad. Not that he was naive enough to imagine Conrad actually needed his help—or anyone's help, for that matter—certainly not to deal with a single interloper. All the same, he couldn't leave. Like the others, he found himself mesmerized, helpless to look away, as Conrad charged the stranger, throwing him back to the ground and falling on top of him.

Armand cringed as the stranger's snarls turned to screams of pain, as Conrad's teeth ripped into the man's face, opening up huge, bloody gashes that should have healed instantly, yet didn't.

It was over in less than a minute. Conrad sat back on his knees glaring at the gory mess beneath him. Then his gaze shifted to something in the grass. He seized it up, snarling savagely, bit off the end and drove the sharpened point of it straight into the stranger's eye.

Mon Dieu
. Armand's stomach heaved as he recognized the object for what it was, the sprig of mistletoe he'd given the girl.
My fault. My fault. I sent her out here to wait.
Fear became a tangible thing, in that minute, a thing that sat on his chest and refused to let him draw a decent breath. Was Conrad's rage extinguished now? Or would it seek another victim?

Still visibly seething, Conrad got to his feet. Turning, he caught sight of Armand. If possible, his face grew even darker. “Why are you still here?” he demanded in savage tones. “Where is she?”

“Th-th-th-the h-house. I-I th-think.”

“Go after her, then! Keep her there.”

“C-c-certainly.” Armand nodded, all too happy to oblige. But he hadn't gone more than a few steps before Conrad's voice recalled him.

“Armand!”

At the sound of Conrad's voice, all of Armand's muscles seized and he stopped abruptly, shaking so hard he could barely turn his head to ask, “Y-y-yes?”

“Get rid of everyone else. Tell them all to go home.”

Nodding, he turned away again and ran off, practically crying in relief, happy to put as much distance as he possibly could between himself and the demon that had overtaken Conrad.

 

The sight of Armand running from him did little to improve Conrad's mood. The boy was scared of him, which was as it should be, he supposed. He was a danger to everyone right now. As he took a moment to try and calm down, he was aware of the others standing by, silently watching him.

He didn't care who they were or what they thought. Perhaps they were frightened by his actions, or surprised, or disappointed, or even secretly pleased. Maybe his behavior had only served to validate their previous opinion of him. Whichever the case, it made no difference to him whatsoever. He hadn't gotten where he was by being nice all the time. That wasn't something he advertised, but he'd never made a secret of it, either. Any one of his acquaintance who didn't already know that about him would do well to learn.

He'd been a soldier when he was human and even after he'd been turned he served in one army or another, for several hundreds of years. It was a role that suited him well and a career choice he'd fallen back on, more than once, over the centuries. There was very little he hadn't seen or done in the course of his lifetime. And even though quite a few years had passed since the last occasion when he'd lost his temper and maimed someone, he wasn't too surprised that it happened again.

Sooner or later, it always did. It always would. It's what he was.

Turning his head, he met the gazes of those around him, considering each in turn, finally singling out two of his more recent legacies. “You two.” He pointed at his chosen emissaries. “Drew and Jason—stay where you are. The rest of you, leave.”

Not waiting to see whether his orders were followed—they would be, if any of those present had any sense—he strode back to the stranger, still writhing on the grass. He hauled him up by the front of his shirt. “Stop whimpering,” he snarled at the man. “Be glad I don't kill you.”

“I didn't hurt her,” the injured vampire protested weakly. “I didn't even bite her.”

“Be glad,” Conrad repeated, dragging him closer, until they were practically nose to nose. “And don't think I don't know that. It's the only reason you still draw breath.”

The thought of what the bastard
had
done was enough. Just remembering it made Conrad so angry that, for a moment, he wasn't sure he could control himself or keep from tearing into the stranger again. The girl may not have been physically damaged, but Conrad had seen the terror in her eyes, he'd heard the loathing in her voice.
He's a monster…

A monster. Right.
Conrad sighed.
Just like me.

The loss of her innocence…that had been a heavy blow, an unexpected blow. The loss of her trust in him, the loss of her faith in his ability to keep her safe, the knowledge that he could have prevented this, that perhaps he
should
have prevented it; all of it combined was what had caused him to lose control. He'd behaved just like the monster she'd branded him, just like the monster he knew himself to be.

“But, they told me to do it,” the stranger sobbed. “They said I should…that I should come here tonight. There'd be people, they said—lots of people, plenty to eat. She said it would be okay. She told me so…”

“Silence!” Conrad could listen to no more. Much more of this sobbing and he'd be forced to rip the creature's throat out just to shut him up. Turning around again, he quickly shoved his victim into Jason's waiting arms. “Find out where he belongs, and to whom, and deliver him there, with my compliments.”

Jason blanched upon receiving his orders and even Drew appeared discomfited, if the doubtful glance he cast at the stranger was anything to go by.

Conrad fisted his hands on his hips and glared coldly at them. “Did I choose badly in picking the two of you for this task?”

He'd chosen them for their age, their experience, for the fact that he knew them both to be well acquainted with the harsher, uglier aspects of life, and in the possibly mistaken belief they were both battle-hardened enough to be capable of holding their own in a potentially tense situation.

What was it that disgusted him most right now? Was it the fear he sensed in them, their unbecoming and unexpected weakness? Or was he disgusted with himself—for having burdened them with so unpleasant an assignment. For having let the entire nest grow soft. For having made things too easy for everyone, for far too long. For having been too full of hubris.

I should have seen this coming.
This, or something just like this, had been inevitable—it was only a matter of when.

I should have known better.
Now, he must pay the price for having been too indulgent, for having given in to foolish whims and childish wishes, for having let his heart overrule his head.

The vampires before him continued to stand where they were, fidgeting silently. Conrad shook his head. “They won't touch you, you know. They wouldn't dare harm one of mine. Not now. Not unless they want me for an enemy.” He waved his hand, indicating the wounded vampire. “Which, somehow, I very much doubt will be the case. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Yes, of course,” Drew replied, drawing himself erect and inclining his head. “They wouldn't dare. Count on us, Conrad. We will take care of everything. It shall be done just as you request.”

Conrad nodded. “Good. See that it is. Now, one more thing. When you find them, whoever they are, make sure they understand that they and theirs are no longer welcome here. Tell them if I ever find any of
his
kind on my property again, they can expect to receive the very same treatment. Or worse.”

After watching the two men start off on their mission, Conrad turned back toward the house, but his heart was heavy and his mood grim. He was a realist, if nothing else, and he had a fairly good idea what he would find when he got there.

 

“I-I-I don't know where she is,” Armand admitted a short while later, standing in the center of Conrad's bedroom, shaking so hard Conrad thought it a wonder he didn't collapse. “She was gone by the time I got back to the house. I thought, at first, she'd simply come up here, but I looked and, and then I thought no, she must still be downstairs somewhere, after all, because all her things are still here.” He gestured toward Conrad's closet. “Her clothes and, and everything? She hasn't taken them but, but I've looked everywhere now and—”

“She's gone.” Seated in his armchair, Conrad glared at the boy. “That's what you're saying, isn't it?”

Armand nodded, looking miserable. “I-I think so. Yes. Sh-she's…”

“Gone,” Conrad repeated to himself, continuing to stare absently at Armand while he tried to make his mind accept his disappointment, tried to keep his anger from taking him over once again. Lovers didn't leave
him!
Not usually, anyway. Not unless he sent them away. As a rule, it was he who left
them
. The exceptions were rare and the circumstances surrounding such defections were never pleasant.

“I-I-I'm so sorry,” Armand whispered.

Conrad's eyes re-focused on the boy's face. He looked terrified. “Come here,” he said quietly, impatience rising as Armand inched cautiously closer. “Armand! I said, come here—now!”

The boy jumped and scuttled across the room, falling to his knees at Conrad's side, looking even more frightened than before. Conrad's temper spiked. “Stop sniveling.”

Armand's eyes squeezed shut. He rested his head against Conrad's knee, swallowing hard, finally whispering, “I-I'm sorry, Conrad. I want to stop. Really, I do. But I…I don't know that I can.”

“You think I'm going to hurt you.” It wasn't a question. As Armand opened his eyes and gazed pleadingly at him, Conrad could read the terror in his eyes and in every trembling line of his body. He could hardly blame him. Once upon a time—before he'd grown old and soft and stupid with age—he probably would have. He'd have struck first and asked questions after. Disgust filled him as he contemplated his own savage nature and, once again, his temper flared. “Answer me! Is that what you think?”

Armand hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Y-yes?”

“And why is that? In the entire time you've known me, have I ever done
anything
to you that would make you
this
afraid of me?”

Armand shook his head. “No, but…but
I'm
the one who sent her to wait in the garden. And…and you told me I was to make sure everyone knew to leave her alone. And I did! I swear, I did, Conrad. I told
all
of our people.
Everyone
knew you wanted her for yourself. I just didn't think about the outsiders. I never dreamed anyone would dare come here and…and do such a thing. I don't even know who that guy was! I'm sure he's never been here before tonight! I'd have remembered if he had. I'd have said something to him. It never would have happened if I'd—”

“Stop,” Conrad commanded. “I always said you were a smart one, Armand, and you are. But, this time, I'm afraid you're very wrong.”

Armand looked up at him, lips trembling. “Conrad…please. I— I—”

But Conrad could stand no more. “Silence!” Pulling him into his arms, he hugged him fiercely. “I'm not going to harm you, Armand. I give you my word. Believe me?” When Armand finally nodded, reluctantly, uncertainly, Conrad let him go; pretending not to notice the traces of doubt still simmering in the depths of his hazel eyes. “What happened tonight was not your fault.”

Armand gazed at him skeptically. For a moment, it looked almost as though he were debating the intelligence of arguing the point.

Conrad shook his head, hoping to forestall him. He wasn't sure his temper could take any more discussion. “It's not, I tell you. It's my fault for allowing outsiders the right to feed here. I should have known it would lead to trouble. As of now, that privilege is rescinded. I want a guard stationed at the gate for all future parties. We will compile a guest list, and no one is to step foot on these grounds unless they're on it. And I'll want an intercom system installed as well. Is that understood?”