JAVIER (7 page)

“Sir, Chronus is here.” Andreas called down from the
hall;

“I’ll come up,” Gabriel said then turned to Javier, “I
don’t think the child could take seeing an Empath right now.”

Javier agreed; he knew what the young girl had
witnessed. Sitting on the bottom step he cradled his weapon and watched the two
women huddled together on the floor. Cassia was singing an ancient lullaby in
their old language he remembered from his own childhood. Even though she sang
quietly the sound was sweet and beautiful. Her attention was focused completely
on the young girl as she drank thirstily. She was taking a lot, thought Javier,
Vampires newly transitioned through adolescence had voracious appetites for
blood; their bodies needed it. He was glad Cassia had taken blood just hours
ago but, at this rate, she would need more fairly soon.

He watched her, letting her pure voice seep into him.
Her face had lost its usual wary watchfulness and was gentle and tender, framed
by wisps of black hair as her plait came undone. She hadn’t hesitated; she had
just taken the girl in her arms and tended to her, giving her blood, life
itself. In Vampire society to give blood to a stranger in need was seen as an
act of great generosity and selflessness creating a bond between the one who gave
and the recipient.

At long last the young girl raised her head, finally
sated and leaned on Cassia’s shoulder. Javier moved quickly, acting on an
impulse he didn’t understand.  Cassia’s wrist was a mess and her hand trembled
visibly. Kneeling by her he lifted her wrist to his mouth and gently sealed the
wounds, his tongue easing over the ragged puncture marks until the enzymes
closed them then started the healing process. Her blood tasted rich, like port
wine and he felt a low hum of need vibrate through his body, deep inside his
blood and bones.

Cassia appeared to have noticed nothing as she shifted
her grip on the girl and tried to stand; Javier lifted them up and set them on
their feet.

“What is your name little one?” he asked softly;

“Rose,” she whispered, “Spike and me, we were going to
London together and then to Paris. We were going to join the artist’s commune.
Our kind, all working and living together.”

Cassia nodded; she had come across this group of very
young aspiring artists living and working in Paris;

“Did you run away from home Rose?” she asked gently.

The girl Rose let out a low wail;

“Yes, yes. We took the night bus; neither of us has
mastered shifting properly yet.”

She stopped and stared at the starburst pattern on the
floor then at Javier, her eyes hollow with shock;

“He stabbed Spike with that black knife and he just
blew apart into nothing…just ash and atoms. He wanted to show them how it
worked. How could that happen?”

Javier shook his head, he had no answers. Cassia bent
down and lightly swept some of the ash into her hand; her voice hushed;

“It’s true then. Not just some scary legend to tell
the children. It exists. Javier we should get all this ash collected to give
back to his parents; they will need it for the ceremony to send him into the
Infinite.” She looked up, “Javier…?”

Javier was staring at her, his face as pale as the
young girl’s had been. Then he turned abruptly on his heel and headed for the
stairs;

“I’ll send someone down. I cannot…” his voice was
rough and he ascended the stairs two at a time as if he couldn’t get away fast
enough.

Upstairs in the hallway Javier took deep calming
breaths and bolted into the study. The whole ground floor was a hive of
activity.  Chronus’s London agents had arrived on the scene.  Some of them were
bagging up the bodies while others were systematically searching every room in
the house. The two Empaths in the study jumped slightly as he crashed in and
leaned against the desk. He noticed their curious, apprehensive glances and
wondered if they were because a fully armed Vampire warrior was suddenly in
their midst or whether they were reading the seething mass of black emotions
rolling off him in waves.

Images flickered in and out of his mind. Standing with
LaSalle in the complete devastation of that Cairo restaurant as all hope
drained away.  LaSalle collecting Charlotte’s remains because he couldn’t. His
body talking, walking and breathing despite the fact that he had died inside.
Javier shook his head; no, he wasn’t going there again. Breathe in, breathe
out, breathe in and breathe out. Eight years, eight years had passed, he had
moved on. This situation wasn’t about him.

“Javier?” Gabriel stood in the doorway, “I’m heading
back to the Island with Chronus. You alright to finish off here?”

“Fine. I’ll arrange to get the child back home to her
parents and send someone to the boy’s place. Cassia says we should collect his
ashes for the final ritual.”

“She is right, we should. Do you want me to do that?”
Gabriel’s dark eyes were fixed on him. Was he so obvious? Were his emotions
written so plainly on his face? How long had his fellow warriors been tiptoeing
round him, protecting him from himself? Javier felt a flash of anger, of
self-loathing.

“No. I’ll arrange it. You go. I’ll follow with Cassia
as soon as possible.”

Gabriel nodded and left. Javier stared after him; he
would be suffering too, his elder brother had been killed in the same way as
the boy Spike, blown apart by that terrible weapon. That had been over two
centuries ago. Gabriel had hunted down and killed all the self-styled slayers.
Now they were back and more of his race was going to die. Time to step up and
get on with his job.

An hour later he had made all the arrangements and
taken a statement from the girl. He stood with Cassia in the hallway as Stephan
prepared to return Rose to her frantic parents. The girl turned to Cassia and
Javier’s heart ached at how much that young face seemed to have aged;

“I owe you the blood debt just like it says in the
Ancient Laws.” Rose was obviously well schooled in their traditions;

Cassia shook her head and took the girl’s hands; “I
release you from any debt but my blood runs in you so we have a bond.”

“Will you come and see me one day?”

Cassia nodded, a smile lighting up her face as she
pulled Rose into her arms and hugged her before gently releasing her. The girl
looked dwarfed and fragile in the warrior Stephan’s arms; Javier raised his
hand in dismissal and the two of them disappeared in a flurry of dark energy.

“Poor kid.” murmured Cassia, hugging herself as she
warily eyed the team of Empaths busily hefting boxes of papers out to their
waiting vehicles. She had never been in the presence of so many of their former
enemies. She stole a quick look at Javier as he gave instructions to Andreas;
she had contrived to avoid making any real eye contact with him since he had
sealed the wounds on her wrist. Why had he done it? The feel of his mouth and
his tongue on her skin had sent such a shock through her body that she had used
that poor girl as camouflage to hide her response.

And then there had been his haunted reaction when she
had suggested collecting up the few ashes that remained of the boy Spike. She wondered
how his consort had died; she had a feeling that her comments down in that
cellar had sent him all the way back to the day their bond had been ripped
apart by death.

Javier stuffed his mobile phone back into a pocket and
held out an arm for her;

“Let’s get back.”

“Can’t you just give me the coordinates and let me
shift back myself?” Cassia asked, “Nothing on earth would make me do a flit
till we find out who did this.” She could really do without getting close to
him; it was seriously disturbing her equilibrium.

“I believe that Cass, I really do but the less you
know the better. Come here, I need to get back now.”

Cassia wrapped her arms protectively round herself and
shuffled forward awkwardly. She heard Javier utter what sounded like an
exasperated curse in Spanish as he reached out and tucked her into his body,
his arm hooked firmly round her waist before he breathed in and concentrated
his mind.

CHAPTER 7

Just as before Cassia knew they had arrived back on
the Island by the warmth and the scent of the air around her. Javier loosened
his grip round her waist but held her by the shoulders;

“You can open your eyes.” he said. Cassia hadn’t
realized she had shut her eyes. She was aware however that her body was
trembling slightly. It would be the reaction, she thought, and young Rose had
taken a lot of blood. Javier raised her chin gently with his hand so she was
looking up at him;

“Cass, you can talk to me. You were marvellous back
there but it was a lot to cope with; how are you doing?”

Cassia wanted to bury herself against him and cry. To
be held and comforted and soothed, just for once. She stepped back; forcing her
emotions under control;

“Fine. I’m fine thanks. I could do with a cup of tea
though.” she said flippantly

Javier narrowed his golden brown eyes then smiled;

“If you say so. Come on, I’ll get you that tea. Least
I can do. I might even throw in a biscuit.”

The noise hit them the moment they entered the hall; a
babble of excited voices clearly audible through the open doors of the study.
Cassia could hear a mixture of French, English and the odd sentence in their
old language.

“LaSalle, give me something to do, we all want to help
here…” said a woman’s voice speaking with an American accent.

“What the hell…?” muttered Javier as he tucked his gun
under one arm and grasped her hand, pulling her after him into the study.
Nobody noticed their entrance for a few minutes and Cassia was glad because it
gave her time to process the scene.

The study was packed with people. She spotted Flavia
immediately, standing at the front near Gabriel who had an arm wrapped round
his consort Hera. Sprawled in an armchair was a blonde warrior built like a
rugby player and perched on his knee was a vibrant red haired woman. She was
the one speaking with an American accent. Behind them stood a dark unsmiling
warrior dressed in black, his arms folded tightly around himself. Another
armchair held a handsome man in combat fatigues whose eyes roved from face to
face casually till they came to rest on hers; she saw an immediate flare of
interest. A stout, comfortable woman in chef’s whites was talking excitedly in
French to a stark, plain, elegant woman who listened in dignified silence.

LaSalle was leaning on the edge of his desk, he said
nothing but his sharp eyes flicked from one person to the other as he listened
in to the general hubbub. He appeared completely relaxed, taking occasional
drags on his cigar. Sitting on the desk next to him was a dark eyed
dramatically beautiful woman with long black curling hair. This had to be his
consort, the Comtesse Ysabeau thought Cassia with interest. Flavia had told her
that the woman was a skilful fighter in her own right though she looked more
like a supermodel in her exquisite designer clothes and Chanel necklace.

Finally she took in the other man standing silently at
the front with his arms crossed. Lean and handsome with short military cut
blonde hair he surveyed the inhabitants of the room with cool sky blue eyes.
His suit was unmistakeably expensive and Italian and he looked like a
millionaire businessman. Oh hell, thought Cassia ruefully, she had dodged this
man in Florence once when she was on a job. This was Chronus; head of
Intelligence for the Empath High Council. He was reputed to be a powerful Empath
and was, no doubt, reading every emotion and nuance in the room. He looked very
much at home.

LaSalle caught Javier’s eye and, taking a long drag on
his cigar rapped sharply on the desk. The many conversations round the room
continued and he stubbed out the cigar, put two fingers to his lips and
whistled loud and piercingly.

There was instant silence and Cassia felt Javier
gently pull his hand out of hers; she hadn’t realized she had still been
grasping it tightly.

“Javier, update us.” LaSalle said.

Cassia skirted round the edge of the room to join
Flavia acutely aware of the curious looks of the others. Javier stepped up to
the front and laid the AK-47 on the desk before he turned to face the room.
No-one even glanced at it; this was obviously a household well used to weapons.
He had the full attention of everyone in the study as he briefly related the
details to them. The tension was palpable as he concluded;

“I am afraid they are back. We have to assume that,
once again, Empaths are the driving force behind the Humans. As we all know,
Humans need them to identify our kind, we are not that obvious to them,
whatever strange stories they choose to believe about us. We also know that
they have at least one Obsidian Dagger.”

“Is that why they took you Javier? To try to get back
the other daggers?” Hera asked.

“I guess so. Though how they knew…it doesn’t matter.
Of course they would have failed. Their plan was naïve and ill thought out,
suggesting they know little about how we operate. I am also indebted to Cassia
for her quick thinking. Have we found out anything about the provenance of
those restraining collars?”

Chronus cleared his throat and Cassia saw him cross
his arms defensively as he scanned their expectant faces;

“I am afraid those collars came from our own supplies
in Venice. I checked the serial numbers personally. We have…”

He got no further as Cassia felt rage coursing through
her; she hardly recognized her own voice as she snapped out the question;

“So you keep a supply in Venice for restraining our
kind? How many of us have you got locked up there?”

Every head turned towards her and she felt Flavia grab
her arm; Chronus, however, regarded her coolly;

“I know the story of your father Miss Mathrafal and I
am sorry for what was done to him. My department is nothing like it was in his
time and our High Council is very different from the one that existed then.
Yes, we occasionally need to use a restraint to stop a prisoner from travelling
through space, only recently we had a Vampire in custody for questioning. He
was arrested as the result of a joint operation involving Gabriel and Javier.
He gave us vital information about Ferenc Bathory’s terrorist network; ask
them, they will tell you all about it.”

Cassia tugged her arm out of Flavia’s hand, her eyes
blazing as she met Chronus’s sky blue gaze;

“Well, you appear to have a thief at your headquarters
Chronus. Do you know who took the collars or was their use sanctioned by
someone from your High Council, someone who isn’t as keen on this Treaty as he
or she pretends? That young kid was murdered by an Empath, poor Rose saw it.
Slayers have only ever had one goal…to find our kind and kill us and you
Empaths have always been right behind them!”

“Cassia!” Flavia whispered frantically; “He’s on our
side.”

“Is he really? Well back in that house it felt just
like the bad old days.”

LaSalle seemed about to intervene but Chronus stopped
him with a quick shake of his head. His expression as he turned back to Cassia
was worried and he addressed not just her but the whole room.

“Miss Mathrafal only speaks what I sense you are all
feeling. Please believe that I am not deliberately intruding into your privacy;
your emotions are coming at me like a tidal wave. I am sure Hera feels it too.”
He turned to Gabriel’s consort who nodded unhappily;

“I do not know who took those restraints but I will
find out. These events are as disturbing and unwelcome to us in Venice as they
are to you. We worked hard for the Treaty, we mean to uphold its terms and keep
the peace. Aries will put any resources necessary at my disposal to help track
down these people, whoever they are. We are not the same as we were Miss
Mathrafal, whatever our history. I ask, we ask for your trust.”

There was a brief silence then LaSalle swept his smoky
grey gaze round the room;

“I can see how worried you all are. Our kind has been
slaughtered by these groups in the past but those were different days. We know
little about this current lot but we will find them and when we do we will wipe
them out. The problem at the moment appears to be confined to London, there are
no reports from elsewhere. Gabriel and Chronus have people on it, it will not
take long for them to get a lead.”

Every eye was on LaSalle as he continued, smiling at
the woman in chef’s whites and her starkly elegant companion;

“Madame Lemond, Rosa, please reassure the domestic
staff that there is no risk here.”

Then he smiled at the American red head sitting on the
blonde warrior’s knee;

“Katie, we are already monitoring communications but
no-one is better than you. Can you trawl the web for chatter, anything you may
find odd. Look at that dark thing...”

The red head grinned; “The dark web LaSalle. I’m on
it.”

“Rafe, all the activity seems to be in and around
London. You know the city; I need you to work with Gabriel’s and Chronus’s
agents. Find the bastards quickly.”

The warrior in combat fatigues nodded sharply.

“Max, Luca, I want our warriors on the highest level
of readiness. This may be a half-arsed rag tag bunch or it might be something
much more deadly. I want us prepared. We will not be taking any prisoners,” he
turned to Chronus, “Please make sure that message gets back to Venice Chronus,
we don’t pussyfoot around with slayers…or anyone who supports them.”

Cassia raised her hand hesitantly and flushed as
LaSalle’s calm gaze locked onto her;

“Mademoiselle Cassia? You may speak freely…as you
already have.”

Cassia took a deep breath as once again, she became
the focus of every eye;

“The Humans involved…they are not likely to be
upstanding members of society. I have some contacts who may be able to put out
discreet feelers.”

“We need to take care, we cannot risk exposure.”

“I know that LaSalle, I have operated in the Human
world for a very long time without anyone realizing who or what I am. Please,
let me help, I know someone who can find things out.”

“Well, we need all the help we can get. I cannot let
you put yourself in danger Cassia; these people know your face. See your
contact by all means but you will go nowhere without Javier, is that clear?
This Island will be your base till I deem it safe for you to leave. I need your
word that you will not go off investigating by yourself.”

Cassia met LaSalle’s implacable gaze; this was the
only way she’d be able to contribute. She thought once again of poor Rose’s
haunted eyes and the ash spread all over that cellar; all that remained of a
young boy, an artist with a dream. She drew herself up and laid her right hand
over her heart as she gave her word using their ancient language;

“I swear by the bloodline of my father Hugo Mathrafal
that I will adhere to your terms.”

LaSalle bowed formally, “So be it. You may consider yourself
a temporary member of the Council from this moment on. You report to Javier.”

Well, thought Cassia, ignoring Flavia’s excited gasp,
who would have thought it? International art thief to member of the Warrior’s
Council in a matter of hours; albeit temporary. As for reporting to Javier, she
met his amused eyes for a second before scowling and looking away, she’d just
have to find a way to handle him. No man was going to be in charge of her.

Madame Lemond the chef announced proudly that dinner
would be served shortly despite the touch of hysterics in the kitchen then
bustled out followed by the starkly elegant Rosa. Cassia wondered if she was
the housekeeper. A hand touched the small of her back, propelling her forward.
She jumped as Javier bent close and murmured;

“Looks like I’m stuck with you Miss Mathrafal. Quite a
grilling you gave poor Chronus. Come on, I’ll introduce you. I’m sure
everyone’s dying to meet this firebrand in their midst.”

Cassia bit back a rude retort as she was introduced to
the others. The dramatic supermodel was indeed the Countess Ysabeau and Cassia
liked her immediately as she was welcomed with Parisian air kisses. She’d make
sure not to underestimate her, she thought as she was fixed with intelligent
perceptive eyes. The vibrant American was Katie von Lansdorff and the powerful
blonde warrior was her consort Maximillian.

“Call me Max.” he said, his smile crinkling up blue
eyes.

Then came the dark troubled looking one, Luca Fabri.
Flavia had called him Luca the Venetian; even she had heard the rumours
recently of a great scandal involving the death of his consort.

Lastly she came under the frankly admiring stare of
the man in combat fatigues. He spoke with a clear English accent, his voice a
lazy drawl;

“Welcome to the team Cassia. I’d be happy to show you
the ropes. Rumour is you bring us an interesting set of skills.”

“Thank you Rafe, I’ve got it under control. Cass, meet
Rafe Deverill. That was his apartment we stayed at in London.”

Was there some history between these two wondered
Cassia; their body language was aggressive. No, Rafe’s wasn’t, it was Javier.
Men, it was anyone’s guess.