Phoenix Fallen (16 page)

Their food arrived, the waiter cheery as he set down the plates full of steaming sandwiches and asked if they wanted more drinks. When no one answered him, his smile faltered and faded. He gave an uncomfortable cough and made himself scarce.

"I couldn't have stopped it." Rissa's voice was pleading. "If I had stayed…if I had stayed...," she pressed a hand to her trembling stomach, unable to go on.

"You would have been a part of it." Kelsey nodded slowly. "I get it, Rissa. I really,
really
do. But…"

"…Jules." Fannie whispered.

"Yeah, Jules." Kesley said sadly. "I'm so sorry, Rissa. This is going to be…hard."

Rissa gave a small, hopeless laugh. "No, not hard. I think the word you're looking for is
impossible."

She didn't expect them to, but Rissa's heart went heavy as a cold stone in her chest when neither woman bothered to correct her.

Daimen watched the women leave the diner awhile later. He folded his arms when the sleek little dark-haired one tossed her head. He knew her face, didn’t he? Hmm, yes. He'd seen her before, he was sure of it. But where? Daimen frowned but let that go for now, turning to the other woman with Rissa.

Ah yes, the nigger bitch. Her he knew already, of course.
Quite
intimately.

A smile played on his full lips. He'd watched her husband take her in exquisite detail from his vantage point at their window the other night. He'd come so very close to killing them both, but something had held him back. Daimen considered his sense of timing impeccable. He'd learned to trust it over the years, even if sometimes restraint was difficult. That night he'd realized she was an empath. Not a strong one, but the power was there. He'd tried probing her while he watched them, cautiously, of course, but knowing she was far too distracted to pay much attention. Seeing if he could take control of her and have some fun.

Daimen had realized almost immediately she would be difficult to control at best. No, she wasn't strong in her powers, but she was absolutely pure in them. Bending her will would be damn near impossible. Some odd power that disturbed him leaked from the man as well, so he had listened to his gut and backed off.

He'd looked in on the brats before he left though. Finding their room with ease.
That
had been very tempting indeed. So soft and sweet, nestled together like peas in a pod…

But again, he'd listened to his instincts.
Not yet.
 

So Daimen watched the three women pile into the limousine, his eyes lingering on Rissa's bright head. And he did nothing.

But soon. Oh yes.

Soon.

Jules sat in the atrium of Phoenix Inc. Alone. Well, alone except for Miles. Whom he was ignoring, so he was
mostly
alone.

With his anger, resentment and despair. He'd spent half the night at Fan and Scott's last night, telling them no more than he and Rissa were through. Fannie had tried to draw him out, but she'd given up eventually, her frustration clear. The rest of the night he had spent home in the company of a $500 bottle of Bowmore Scotch. He'd woke up this evening to find the bottle empty, though the only hangover he had was the one in his heart.

He'd picked up Kelsey and Miles at the airport. Or rather he had
rode
with the chauffeur in the limousine Miles had ordered and met them at the airport.

Kelsey had taken off a few minutes ago with little more than a peck on the cheek for both him and Miles. It had pissed Jules off because he knew damn well what she was up to.

He couldn't hide much from Kelsey, but the reverse was also true. From the second he'd met her and Miles at the airport, she'd started giving him worried looks. But she hadn't asked him anything and he hadn't offered.

Once they got to Phoenix her phone had rang. Kelsey had disappeared into her office after the first few words and one hard look at Jules. When she emerged, she simply said she was going to have dinner with Fan and she'd see them later. Miles had taken her arm and pulled her aside for a second, but after a few words between them, he'd let her go.

Whatever.
The women could talk all they wanted, but they weren't going to fix this. Even though he wished like hell someone could.

Jules had watched Kelsey walk out, leaving them alone with Miles. Him and his
sire.
What a barrel of laughs this week was turning out to be.

He sprawled out in one of the reception area chairs. Miles just stood there, a few paces in front of Jules, hands in the pockets of his rumpled black jeans, looking out into the dark grounds. The silence in the room built until it threatened to crack the ton or so of glass surrounding them.

Miles sighed.

"If you are waiting for me to apologize for turning you, I suggest you get comfortable. I have no intention of ever speaking those words."

"Really?" Jules threw an arm over the chair next to him. Inside his body thrummed with anger despite his air of indifference. Outside he only watched with raised eyebrows as Miles turned to face him.

"I don't lie, Jules. Apologizing would be a lie. Kels told me what happened to your family when you were a child, and I am certainly sorry for that…but not for what
I
did. If you had died that night, Kelsey would have died. I never would have found her in time without your powers. So…" The Frenchman waved a hand between them, "we can continue to do this, whatever
this
is. But if you're looking for an apology, or regret, I cannot give it to you. Not ever. Even if you live to be as old as me." He gave a Gallic shrug, a twisted smile on his aristocratic face. "You can hit me if it makes you feel better."

Jules gave a slow grin and got to his feet. Miles raised his eyebrows, but he didn't so much as remove his hands from his pockets as Jules approached him.

"
C'est la vie."

Jules heard the murmured words and laughed before he smashed his fist into the smaller man's jaw.

It rocked Miles back a pace and snapped his neck back like it was on a hinge, but other than that the vampire didn't react.

He rolled his shoulders once, wiped the corner of his mouth free of blood and said, "Are we done then?"

For a moment, Jules dearly wanted to hit him again. And again and again…

And again.

He wanted to beat him into the floor and scrub the windows with his guts. Jules wanted to scream his pain and frustration out while he kicked Miles into a bloody pulp.

He was still reeling from Rissa's revelation and having Miles apparently at his mercy was a tantalizingly powerful temptation.

But Miles wasn't Cross.

Miles was his best friend's lover, soon to be her husband…and a decent man, as much as it cost Jules to admit it.

Plus, there was the bald fact that no matter how willing Miles might appear to be Jules' whipping boy at the moment, there were surely limits to his indulgence. Jules had never seen Miles Rousseau in a temper, but he'd heard the stories and Kelsey would never forgive either of them if he forced Miles to kill him, so…

"Okay, yeah. We're done." Jules rubbed his jaw and sat back down with a grunt. Miles took a seat across from him, looking mildly surprised. Jules snorted when he took that in.

"Disappointed, bloodsucker?"

Miles shrugged again, then moved his own jaw experimentally with one hand, wincing as he did so.

"
Non.
"

Jules laughed outright. Miles' lips twitched.

There was quiet for a moment, then Miles broke it again.

"I am perhaps a bit curious, though." He said carefully, a small frown creasing his face. "Something is wrong with you, is it not?"

Jules let his head fall back, retreating from that cool summer blue gaze. Then something struck him and he brought his chin back down to look at Miles. "Have you ever heard of a vamp by the name of Daimen Cross?"

Miles stiffened and his eyes widened ever so slightly. "
Oui,
I have heard that name."

"And?" Jules pressed.

Hesitating for a moment, Miles said. "I have heard little, Jules, other than he is said to have strange powers and a cruel streak in a race were cruelty is not …rare. Why?"

Jules' eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

"Not
lying,
precisely." Miles gave a tiny smile.

"Okay, not telling everything you know then."

With a sigh, Miles said.
"Tu m'as eu."

Jules' French was rusty. "And that means?"

"Yes, I know who Cross is. Or I am learning. His name came up in some new business—"

Jules coughed pointedly. Miles sighed again. "
Merde.
Alright then, I will try not to equivocate—"

"Yes, that would be a nice change," Jules muttered, but Miles ignored him.

"—I looked up Rissa when you mentioned her."

Of course he had. Jules' hands tightened, remembering his hunch about that dossier
. Fucking Miles.

"His name came up as her probable sire. I take it this is correct?"

"Yes." Jules answered shortly.

"Ahh." Miles looked taken aback. "Well, it is unfortunate to have that confirmed, though as I said, it was strongly suspected. He is a vile man. And a cunning one. He seems to be turning into a rallying point for some of your American shades who feel…constrained under the Retribution laws. There is an underground movement, small as yet, that would apparently like to see him at their head."

Jules' stomach knotted. "Really?"

"Oui.
Sources say he has refused. He flirts around the edges of command, but takes on no clear role. Daimen Cross seems to prefer a more 'independent' lifestyle. There are some rather nasty rumors."

"I bet. He's the vamp that led the attack on my family." Jules watched Miles closely as he spoke. If the French vamp knew
that,
and hadn't told him….

Kelsey be damned. He go after the bastard here and now.

Miles leaned forward suddenly, as if someone had struck him in the gut. He took a deep breath. "
Mon dieu.
Jules. I had no idea.
Sur ma vie."

Jules believed him. He nodded once as something inside him released. That betrayal he could not have handled, not on top of everything else.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Jules could feel the tactile weight of Miles' eyes examining him.

"You care about this woman?"

"I love her." Jules said it without thinking, shocking himself. For some reason with this man he had reviled for so long, the brutal honesty came without conscious thought. Then he backpedaled, cursing himself all the while. "I mean, I thought I did. I…don't know anymore."

Miles gave him a considering look, then said slowly. "Her sire may be foul, his acts heinous, but …that is not on her. No doubt knowing her lineage is sickening to you, but if—"

"She was there. That night, I mean. She remembers seeing me."

Their eyes locked. "
Merde.
Jules. I am…well," he shook his head. "I do not know what to say."

"Yeah. It's that kind of situation, ain't it?" Jules said ruefully, feeling sick as he looked down at the gleaming black-and-white tiled floor. It hit him that he hadn't fed again tonight, or last night for that matter. He was starving, but he didn't care. It didn't matter.

What the hell did
any
of it matter anyway?

"So she was in on the attack?"

"What?" Jules looked up, a rush of weakness leaving him dazed. He shook his head to clear it, not noting Miles' sharp look. "Oh no, she wasn't…Rissa used it as cover, actually. To escape him. To get away from Cross."

“She wasn’t a participant?” Miles pressed. "In any way?"

“No.” Jules shuddered. “But that she was there at all, with
him
...I can’t get past that…I will
never
get past that. It’s impossible, Miles.”

The older vampire hesitated, then stood, dropping a hand to Jules’ shoulder. Jules looked up startled. Miles removed his hand at once, but not before something wordless passed between them.

Jules had never had a lot of friends, and those that he had tended to be women. Scott was about as close as he came to male comradery. But as weird and uncomfortable as it was, in that moment, Jules knew that he and Miles were now friends.

Wary ones, maybe. But
friends.

That didn't make the man's next words any easier to hear.

“I won’t argue with your feelings. Your past and your pain are yours. But I will say this one thing. You're wrong about your ability to get past this, Jules. Love is quite capable of doing the impossible. If you give it the chance. Believe me, I know." Miles smiled ruefully.

"But you are far too weak to be making any such decisions at the moment." His voice turned stern. "You need to feed and immediately."

Miles cut Jules off with a hand when he tried to protest. "I'm going to make a call. Wait here…and do think about what I said. If you truly love this woman, no matter what is in her past, you
need
to give it that chance."

Miles left him alone. Jules looked around the empty room, feeling more lost than he had since the night he had died.

“What if I can’t do that?” He whispered to himself.

Jules knew the answer to that. More of the same miserable, crushing pain he’d been dealing with since he'd left her hotel room two nights ago. This ache for her wasn't going to go away. Any more than the loss of his family would. And without her, being a vamp, accepting this life….

Something cold and foreboding settled inside him.

Impossible.
It was just impossible. No matter what Miles said.