The Slayer (10 page)

Read The Slayer Online

Authors: Theresa Meyers

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Historical, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: The Slayer
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Alexa squeezed her hands together tightly, trying to control her reactions, and turned away from him to search for the Atherscope among the other materials stacked along the edges of the room. The room was cluttered. She was going to have to talk to Enric about that.
At the thought of him his voice intruded once more.
My lady, the blond woman arguing with the younger Mr. Jackson was apparently a Miss McGee.
Follow her.
There was a moment's hesitation.
I can't, my lady. She has just changed into a raven and flown away.
Interesting. It looked like the Jacksons had their hands full of Darkin.
Very well, Enric. When you get the chance and the chart room is not in use, can you please see it is organized. It is a mess in here.
Yes, my lady.
Alexa spied the Atherscope, and as she reached for it, her hand connected with Mr. Jackson's far darker one. An arc of awareness sparked along her skin, tightening her stomach and making it flip-flop in a most distracting manner. Alexa gazed up at him and lightly ran her tongue over her lips, finding them suddenly very dry. “Have you used one of these?”
He gave her a smile that coiled her insides into a knot. “No, but I've seen them. Perhaps you can explain it to me.”
She cupped the glass instrument in her hand. Inside, the small cogs, weights, balances, and magnets teetered and swayed with the movement. Alexa placed it on the map over Tombstone. “We place it over our starting point and we roll it forward to the destination.” He pointed to Phoenix on the map, and she stretched her arm across, forcing her to bend slightly, her bustle taking up most of the space between the wall and the map table. “It should give us both a bearing and a distance.”
He leaned in beside her, and Alexa could feel the warmth radiating off his body. His breath stirred the hairs on her neck so that they tickled her skin. “Can it calculate wind resistance or pressure?”
She didn't dare turn to answer him with his face so close to hers. “
Da.
If you lift it like so.” She pulled the Atherscope up and found her back pressed almost against his chest in the confined space of the room. She swallowed hard. “You can see the small balances within, shifting. For every tick mark there will be an increase in pressure, but that is only an estimate. It can vary greatly with the temperature.”
He placed his hand beneath hers, the roughness of it lightly abrading her skin. “May I?”
Alexa smoothly slid the Atherscope into his outstretched hand. The ichor in her veins was pumping hard. She'd never been this close to a Hunter without fearing for her health.
He looked through the Atherscope and wrote down several numbers, then handed her the slip of paper. “This should get your captain to our destination, if your Atherscope is correct in its calculations.”
“I'll take this to the captain so we can be on our way.” Alexa had to brush by him to reach the door, and the contact of her sliding over him made her legs tremble. If she could not gain control of herself better than this, it was going to be a most long and exhausting trip home.
 
 
A few minutes later, the chart room door creaked, but Winn kept his gaze focused on his growing stack of notes, maps, and charts spread all over the table. Whoever was coming through that door wasn't a threat, and he had bigger fish to fry. It was hot in here, so close to the boiler room, and if that hadn't been enough, the outside temperatures in the air above the desert were blistering as well. That had to be the reason he'd been so uncomfortable when the contessa was in the chart room; too much body heat and ambient heat in one small, windowless room.
The door swung open cautiously, and Colt sidled inside the small room. “Am I interrupting?”
Winn looked up at him and held back a smile. A sense of déjà vu filled him, but Colt had been much younger when he'd come upon Winn poring over hunting maps with Pa. “Of course you are. You always do. Sit down anyway.”
Colt ran a finger along the inside edge of his own shirt collar. “Doesn't your neck feel a little exposed?”
Winn grinned at him. He knew exactly what Colt was thinking. “She's not that kind of vampire.”
Colt snorted. “What, she's the kind that don't drink blood?”
Winn shook his head. He'd already gotten a promise out of her not to feed in his presence, and while he didn't exactly trust her, he didn't fear her either. “I don't have time to explain it all to you. Look, I've got an idea where Pa might have stashed his pages. If my calculations are right, Waltz's mine should be somewhere close to this military road, practically in sight of it.” He'd done his best to narrow it down with the clues Remington had unraveled. Any head start he could give Colt would keep him safer.
“You really think Pa stashed the pages in the Lost Dutchman's Gold Mine?”
“Why not? Waltz was a Hunter from the old country. Chances are he's got it hidden well enough that nobody would find it if they didn't know the Hunter lore.”
Colt's eyes narrowed as he stared at the spot Winn had circled on the map. “How do you know that's not some wild goose chase?”
“You have any better ideas based on the clue he left us?”
Colt shook his head.
“Good. Then listen up, little brother. This ain't going to be easy.”
Chapter 8
Alexa wasn't sure exactly what to make of the Darkin who traveled with the youngest of the Jackson brothers. The succubus sat as far away from the windows as she could get. Certainly she was beautiful. What succubus wouldn't be? But underneath Alexa sensed a frightened little girl, used to plying a trade to get her way, one afraid of authority or those of higher rank. And guessing by how she'd positioned herself in the spacious room, she didn't like heights much either.
Lilly's heart beat far too fast. Alexa could hear the fluttering, rapid beat like the quick ticking of a pocket watch in her sensitive ears. The girl's booted foot bounced as she perched on the edge of a very comfortable settee covered in deep, plush burgundy velvet, one of several cushiony chairs and sofas scattered about the large and luxurious observation deck of the airship.
Unaware that she was being observed, the demon closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, and managed to control it enough to qualify as somewhat normal. But when she opened her eyes once more, they widened with surprise when she observed her hostess standing silently nearby.
The demon let out a nervous giggle, which she covered with a cough. Alexa's skirts swirled around her ankles as she crossed the room. She lifted her bustle to sit beside the young woman, and inspected the succubus who'd already managed to ensnare a Hunter's trust—a truly spectacular feat.
The demon exuded sensual charm. Her lithe grace, glorious tumble of fiery curls, even the bright keenness in her gem-like green eyes, were calculated to enslave a man's will and bend it to her every whim. For a brief moment a pang of envy pierced Alexa's breast. It had been a very long time since a man had looked at her the way Colt Jackson eyed Lilly Arliss. So long, that to Alexa it seemed more like a dream than a real memory.
Count Drossenburg had been the most charming of men. Suave, noble, and elegant. Everything he did was calculated to the nth degree, and he had been a brilliant strategist. But, unfortunately, not brilliant enough to escape the Inquisition. They'd captured him on his way home from a business trip to Paris. His Imperial Majesty had forbade her to go to her husband, although Alexa had begged and pleaded. For six agonizing months she'd heard in her head every painful moan and tortured scream he'd made, every plea for mercy. Until one day, Ivan's cries had stopped, chilling her to the bone with the throbbing, empty silence. If she'd had a heart, it would've broken.
She'd not let another touch her heart since. But this Darkin understood the male nature of these Hunters. Likely knew some of their secrets as well. She would befriend this demon. Certainly it was not something vampires often did, preferring not to mix with the lower, more mindless classes of Darkin. But for Miss Arliss's knowledge and insight, Alexa decided she would make an exception.
Alexa did her best to start up a banal conversation with the succubus and even ordered tea to soothe the woman's frayed nerves. There was so little time she had to get the information she so desperately needed, Alexa thought. Embarrassment and normal social proprieties must wait. “You are a supernatural like me, are you not, Miss Arliss?”
Miss Arliss nodded as she reluctantly placed the tea cake on the little plate provided, licked the trace of powdered sugar from her lips, and took a sip of the fragrant tea. She relaxed.
“What do you know of the Chosen, Miss Arliss?”
“Only what I've discovered by reading their archives and from Darkin lore.”
Alexa leaned slightly forward in her seat, trying not to appear too rabid for the information. Her raven-colored taffeta skirts and bustle rustled slightly with the movement. “And what do you know of the oldest, in particular? Does he have any weaknesses I should know of?”
“A few.”
The vampire ichor in her veins pulsed. “Would you mind if I summoned some key members of my crew to hear as well? Anything we can learn to protect them during our mission could make the difference.” Winchester Jackson was already proving to be an enigma. In six hundred years she had never before run into a human who couldn't be glamoured or who was able to effectively block the vampiric ability to read human thoughts.
Miss Arliss squirmed on the settee and glanced about the elegant room, as if looking for another way out besides the door to the outer deck. “If you wish,” she answered simply.
Within a moment six vampires materialized beside Alexa in a curl of dark particles like smoke. They clustered behind the settee. Her children all shared the same whiskey-colored eyes as her, but unlike hers, those eyes were filled with avid male interest. Miss Arliss smiled, and her shoulders dropped, releasing the tension there. Having a host of Alexa's sons about her improved the situation, as the succubus was drawn into her natural role in the universe and instantly began to charm them.
Lilly batted her lashes slowly at them, letting a subtle, coy grin spread across her lips. They leaned forward ever so slightly, and every male eye was fixated on her, or perhaps it was the low cut of her gown. As long as she had their attention either way, Alexa didn't care.
“Go on, Miss Arliss. May I call you Lilly?” Alexa said smoothly.
“Certainly.” Lilly smiled, tilting her head at a coquettish angle. Her gaze flicked briefly to Alexa. “Winchester Jackson is the oldest of the Chosen. Born and bred into the life of a Hunter. One of the most ruthless and skilled we've seen in centuries. But his biggest weakness is his brothers. He'd do anything to protect them. Even give up hunting.”
“And is that why he's become the sheriff of some little hamlet in the wilds of America?” Alexa pushed.
“Yes. When his youngest brother Colt was fourteen, he was nearly drowned by a demon. Winchester stopped the attack, but not before being gravely injured in his left thigh. He nearly died.”
“Hunters die all the time,” Alexa said blithely.
“Or are changed into Darkin,” one of her sons murmured. Alexa gently patted his hand for silence. “Not now, Michael. Let Miss Arliss finish her story.” Michael had been a Hunter, and he knew the role well, but they would talk of it later when the demon was gone.
“It was enough to make him decide to leave hunting and turn his back on his legacy.”
“And you think he did this to protect his brothers?”
Lilly nodded. “The loved ones of Hunters never live long.”
Michael snorted.
“What can we do to protect them, and the eldest Mr. Jackson?” Alexa brushed a thumb across the smooth edge of her china cup.
“Nothing. They're the Chosen. They're marked. Rathe wants their shrunken heads to swing as fobs on his watch chain.”
Alexa's spine stiffened. Rathe was an archdemon lord. One of the most powerful of all Darkin and easily able to match the might of His Vampiric Imperial Majesty. He wasn't just a demon; he was a fallen archangel, twisted and vicious to the core, who had laid a bounty on the European vampire court's head. The moment Emperor Vladimir had broken ranks with the Darkin by calling for the vampires to locate and help the Chosen reunite the Book of Legend, he'd made an enemy of Rathe.
Alexa lifted her chin. “How well do you know Rathe?”
Lilly's brilliant green eyes betrayed nothing, but the vein in her throat pulsed hard. She knew Rathe well enough to be terrified of him.
“Are you going to turn Colt over to him?” Certainly the question was beyond blunt, but Alexa didn't see the point in dancing about the Maypole in this matter. If the succubus was indeed going to betray one of the Chosen, Alexa would have to eliminate her.
“No.”
A spark of recognition and fire lit Lilly's eyes. The Chosen were as much her ticket to something she dearly wanted as they were to ensuring the vampire court's victory against Rathe and the Darkin who had joined him in his crusade to open the Gates of Nyx and eliminate humanity.
 
 
Alexa left Lilly discussing the particulars of the Chosen with her crewmen. The attention distracted Miss Arliss enough to soothe her apparent fear of flying. Too bad it did nothing to appease the uneasiness building like a maelstrom in the pit of Alexa's stomach.
“How do you feel the Hunters in our homeland will respond to Mr. Jackson?” she asked Michael as he accompanied her to the bridge. Of any of her children by gift, Michael would know. He'd been a Hunter until his entire family had been turned into werewolves and he'd willingly become a vampire with the House of Drossenburg to escape the fate of being forced to hunt his family down. His smooth brown hair curved about his collar and swept over his forehead, making him look far more boyish than his one hundred and fifty years.
“He's a Slayer. It is only natural that they will shun him, perhaps even seek to take the Book from him and claim the glory of stopping Rathe for themselves among the Legion.”
“It is quite an honor.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“An honor worth killing for,” she mused. “Have we had word on how the British Hunters are faring in their quest to locate our portion of the Book for Queen Victoria?”
Michael cleared his throat. “Yes, my lady. The report from the castle is that they have met with resistance from the French Hunters and are taking the long route through Germany to reach the castle.”
“Of course they would. The French Hunters are an enclave unto themselves, and Queen Victoria has strong familial ties in Germany, making her Hunters welcome there.”
They reached the bridge, and Michael opened the door for her. Alexa hesitated as a thought coursed through her mind. “Michael, you don't think the British Hunters would have made an alliance with the Austro-Hungarian empire to get the Book for themselves, do you?” Considering he'd once been one of their numbers, he would be the most reliable source of information on the subject.
“I could see it being a possibility. Their leader is very keen to stay in the Queen's good graces. Whomever holds the complete Book would hold the fate of the world in his or her hands, and the British are most eager to extend their empire by any means, natural or supernatural.”
It was simply too far a distance to Castle Barranoch to communicate effectively with Count Vernay via her thoughts, and it opened up the potential for any vampire to overhear their conversation. “Dispatch a message immediately to Count Vernay and alert him that we may be double-crossed if the British join forces with the Austro-Hungarian Hunters. We must ensure that the Chosen are the ones who hold the Book.”

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