02 Blood Roses - Blackthorn (18 page)

And as she felt him come inside her, heard his muted growl against her throat, she knew it had been a struggle for him not to bite. A lethal struggle.

He had to see it now. She had proven enough.

He was going to have to let her go.

But for the first time, she didn’t want him to.

And it was all she could think as he gently withdrew, as he lay on his back beside her, between her and the pillows.

She turned away from him to face the door, safeguarding her heart in some way by avoiding the intimacy that could forge more of what she was feeling. Because she was feeling something. Something deep, something undeniable, something unforgiveable.

She felt herself panic at having to acknowledge it. Something was happening and it wasn’t to do with the serryn. Something she hadn’t felt for a long time – if she’d ever really felt it at all. Whatever feelings were stirring inside her, they were more raw, alive and intense than she’d ever felt.

But she couldn’t feel them – she wouldn’t allow herself to feel them. Because if she did, the risk of her being there had just multiplied. If she was going to fall for him, the consequences could be dire.

He had to let her go. She couldn’t tell him why, but he had to.

And that was the last thing she could think as sleep finally consumed her, sleep that came too easy considering a vampire lay behind her.

A vampire who had opted not to leave her side this time.

A vampire who she inexplicably felt safe beside.

❄ ❄ ❄

Leila had drifted to sleep quickly. She slept almost silently, her body falling lax beside him. She’d fought it, but the exhaustion had won in the end. She’d been through too much in the past few hours for it not to.

He’d never known a serryn let their guard down. Not like that. But then he’d never had a serryn in his bed. He’d never found himself caring what one felt during sex, how much pain he caused them, or, more to the point, whether they were getting equal pleasure.

And he sure as hell had never kissed one like that.

Everything about her was as uncontrived as that kiss
–
a kiss that had been exquisitely soft, alluringly hesitant, lips that had trembled in anticipation. Those lips that had reciprocated not with lust, but something more.

Countless emotions could be masked by the sexual act, but a kiss, the most intimate and passionate of exchanges, concealed nothing. And Leila didn’t kiss like the other serryns – the few serryns who would dare indulge that level of contact with their prey. Leila had kissed like she was feeling something for the last vampire she should feel anything towards. Because she had felt something.

Just as he had.

He’d almost tasted what it was like to be himself again, before the serryn who had set him on the path to destruction. So many experiences since had left him hollow, but nothing with Leila felt hollow.

Even with Feinith he’d never felt it so intensely.

Feinith only brought the darkness out in him. Feinith had seen his pain at the loss of Seth, and had thrived on it, fed on it, encouraged it to grow until he’d become nothing but a shell. A shell that Leila had breathed the life back into. Leila, with her honest emotions and convictions, who had every opportunity to become what he hated, but refused. Leila, who intrigued and excited him and made him question what he’d become – had made his gut wrench at the thought of what he’d done in his past.

And it made him uncomfortable, as if he had been numb for a long time, the pins and needles cutting through him reminding him that it was still there.

He sat up and eased himself back against the headboard, moved the pillows behind him to get into a comfortable position. His hand touched something hard, something cylindrical.

He instantly knew what it was even before he looked at it. He held the syringe up in front of him.

She’d clearly expected to end up in his bed at some point. An opportunity when he would be distracted. When she could tuck her hand beneath the pillows almost undetected. And if he hadn’t seen the bruising, if he hadn’t always paid so much attention to every inch of her body, if he hadn’t noticed it when she stretched out her arm to collect the books on the floor, she may even have succeeded.

He twirled the syringe in his fingers.

She’d already worked out there was no way out of this and she was going to go out fighting. Naïve, but commendable.

He guessed it hadn’t turned out how either of them intended.

He was surprised she didn’t flinch at the knock on the door, at the turn of the handle, but she was clearly too exhausted for either.

Jake hovered in the open doorway at the foot of the bed, a book in his hand. He looked down at Leila, then up at his brother, disapproval but no great surprise clear in his eyes at realising how his big brother had spent the past couple of hours.

Caleb looked at Leila’s purification book he was holding; looked back up at the perturbed look in Jake’s eyes.

‘I need to talk to you,’ Jake said. ‘Now.’

Caleb glanced back down at Leila. The whisper hadn’t disturbed her either. It looked like nothing was going to wake her.

He reluctantly eased off the bed, crossed the room to Jake, and rested his hand on the doorjamb. ‘What’s up?’

Jake sent a wary glance in Leila’s direction then cocked his head to the library. ‘Out here.’

‘It’s fine. She’s asleep.’

Jake cocked his head out the room again and stepped back into the library.

Caleb threw the other syringe on the fire before following Jake down to the table at the far end of the room. ‘What’s the problem?’

Opening the book on the page he’d been marking with his finger, Jake rested it on the table and slid it towards his brother. He took a step back, his arms folded. ‘You want to tell me what that’s doing in a serryn’s spell book?’

Caleb stepped up to the table and swiftly scanned the pages. ‘What?’

Jake slammed his finger down on the lower right-hand corner of the page. ‘That,’ he said.

Caleb stared down at the symbol. Then he snatched his gaze back to his brother.

Jake’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and concern. ‘What’s going on, Caleb?’

Chapter Eighteen

C
aleb locked his bedroom door and slipped the key into his back pocket.

‘You stay away from that room, you understand me?’

Jake nodded.

Caleb crossed the room, behind the table and to the bookcases that lined the back wall. He pulled out two of the books, and reached inside the gap. Immediately the whole bookcase slid back to reveal the dark recess behind.

‘How long will you be?’ Jake asked.

‘A couple of hours, maybe three,’ he said as he stepped into the darkness. He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You stay in the penthouse, okay? I’ll come and see you as soon as I’m back.’

Jake nodded. ‘I’ll wait in the lounge.’

Caleb crossed the tiny recess and opened the door that led into the depths of the building. He descended the rusted spiral staircase into the lengthy corridor below. The way ahead was lit only by weak sunlight breaking through cracks in the boarded-up windows, igniting the dust, flashing neon lights splintering onto the concrete.

The weaving corridor led him through several cellars, each hanging heavy with an unearthly silence – a silence Caleb had always found comforting until then. Some of buildings he owned, some he rented, some were derelict. But in total they covered just under a mile before he pulled back the exit doors and emerged into the back alley.

The storm had passed, but fortunately the dense sky still muted the sun. He pulled up his hood, tucked his hands deep into the front pocket of his hoodie, and marched on ahead through the washed-out alleys.

It was forty-five minutes to her place. Most of the journey he could navigate by the back alleys, a suicide mission for most, but no concern for him other than the prospect of being temporarily slowed down by a couple of chancers looking for trouble.

The journey felt like a trudge because of the urgency to get there. The urgency to know the truth.

He should have been relieved at the prospect of proving himself right, but it left him unsettled. Because, even though resentment seared through his veins, he knew hurting her wasn’t going to be as easy as it would have been a few hours before – before he knew she had saved Jake.

She’d got to him. She’d got further inside him than anyone had in a long time. And that only added to his anger at her potential deceit.

He turned down a row of terraced Victorian houses, keeping to the shade of the trees as much as possible as he made his way along the windswept street. Arriving at her house, he stopped and pushed the creaking cast-iron gate open. He made his way up the short winding path and strode up the familiar stone steps to the porch. He stepped inside and knocked on the heavy green door. He took a couple of steps back down, checked the cellar window, and then scanned the other three floors before ducking back under the safety of the porch as he stared back out at the street.

It didn’t take her long to answer. She pulled back the door with a wary glance before her wrinkled, sharp eyes gleamed.

‘Well, well, well,’ she said, staring up at him with a broad smile. ‘Caleb Dehain. It’s been a long time.’

‘Hi, Niras,’ he said, towering above her stooped frame. ‘I’m hoping you have some time to spare me.’

‘Always,’ Niras said, stepping back, letting him in.

Caleb stepped into the cool, dark house as Niras closed the door behind them.

She led the way down the long, poorly lit corridor, guiding Caleb into the second door on the left. ‘From the troubled look on your face and the fact it’s daylight, can I assume this isn’t just a social call?’

‘I’m afraid not. Not this time, Niras.’

Niras took her seat in the large chair by the open fire and indicated for Caleb to take the one opposite. ‘It must be at least ten years.’

He sat back into the heavily woven seat. ‘I guess it must be. Time goes so quick.’

‘Days become weeks, weeks become months then suddenly years become a decade.’ She frowned slightly, her expression grave. ‘You have an urgency about you. So uncharacteristic, Caleb.’

He reached into his jeans pocket and took out the piece of paper he had drawn the symbol on. He held it across to her. ‘Does that mean anything to you?’

Niras accepted it off him. She lifted her eyebrows, her brown eyes widening before she stared back at him, her soft brown eyes struck with consternation. ‘Where did you get this?’

‘You know it?’

Niras frowned. ‘Yes, I know it. But you shouldn’t.’

‘What does it mean?’

‘Caleb, where did you see this?’

‘I need to know what it is.’

Niras’s frown deepened. ‘And I need to know how you came across this. Caleb, this symbol is known only to the Higher Order. It shouldn’t be knowledge to you. If you have been sifting in places you shouldn’t—’

‘I haven’t.’ He leaned forward, his hands between his parted legs as he held his gaze steadily on hers. ‘Niras. Please. Tell me.’

Niras nestled back in her chair. ‘Still as demanding as ever, Caleb. Still as painfully handsome.’ She smiled. ‘If I was a century and a half younger…’

Caleb smiled back. ‘Stop flirting with me, Niras. Diversion won’t work.’

‘I have told you too much over the years, Caleb,’ she said, looking back at the symbol. ‘Shared too many texts. Too many secrets.’ She looked back at him. ‘Those green eyes will be the downfall of me.’

‘But I’ve never betrayed you,’ he said. ‘And you know I never will.’

‘I know. I’m no fool, Caleb. And I have never known one so devoid of betrayal as you.’ She handed the piece of paper back across to him. ‘But I can’t discuss this with you. I’m sorry. You’ve had a wasted journey this time.’

‘Niras…’

‘My young friend. There is only one who could have told you of this and she had no right. Her infatuation with you has overstepped the mark. Whatever she has told you, don’t trust her motivation.’

‘And what would she have told me?’

‘Caleb, I will always retain my respect for you, you know that, but I have to speak my mind. As belligerent and wilful, and as opposed and disrespectful as you are to the Higher Order, your fervent defence of those you care about will always remain a trait I most admire.’ She paused. ‘But as pure-bred as she is, Caleb, as beautiful and as tempting as she is, Feinith is not worthy of your time nor your devotion. And her coupling will only bring the severest consequences to you and Jacob if you continue your relations with her.’

‘Feinith and I are no more, Niras. She broke my heart and with it any affection I ever held for her.’

Niras held her gaze steadily on his. ‘I wish—’ she began, but stopped herself abruptly, taking a moment to rethink her wording. ‘I wish that she hadn’t spoiled you so. The female who finally won your heart should have been more deserving.’

‘You flatter me again, Niras.’

‘No, but I hope you will flatter me by at least admitting Feinith was the source of this information.’

‘I have seen it but she has said nothing to me. Please, Niras. I have to know what I’ve got myself into.’

Niras pressed her lips together, lowered her gaze as she seemed to be pondering. She looked back up at him. ‘I tell you only because I trust you, but this must not escape from your lips, do you understand me?’

‘I understand.’

She wavered only a moment longer, her eyes burning into his. ‘It is reserved for the chosen one.’

‘The chosen one?’

‘The symbol is the Armun. It is a gift to the one who will lead our race to pre-eminence.’

Discomfort stirred in his chest. ‘Over the humans?’

‘Over humans. Over other vampires.’

‘The prophecy. It’s true then?’

‘We may have come a long way in these past decades but there’s still so much further to go. Acceptance is blinkered. The very way they say we must live is indicative of that. We need to move beyond that.’

‘But is that not what the Higher Order are attempting? To converse with the human leaders to secure a place on the Global Council?’

‘We both know it will never happen. Vampires will never be allowed political control. It was the disclaimer the humans put in to retain the segregation. They’ve known our kind long enough to know we wouldn’t stay in the shadows forever. They knew what we would want, what any species wants: control. And they protected themselves against it.’

‘So what is the point of this leader?’

‘I’ve already said too much.’

‘Nothing I don’t already know.’

Her eyes flared. ‘Tell me if you haven’t seen it on Feinith.’

‘Niras, tell me what the point of the leader is.’

Niras held his gaze for a moment, then, with a sigh, leaned back. ‘What you cannot win by negotiation, you have to win by other means. All disclaimers have loopholes. And that symbol is our loophole. A symbol as archaic as our being.’

‘What kind of loophole?’

‘Those without a soul cannot serve on the Global Council. No shadows are permitted to make judgements on any decisions that will impact on humankind – that was the disclaimer. But a vampire with a soul, that’s a whole other matter. The vampire who wears that symbol can steal one. They can replace the shadow inside them, yet remain vampire. The Global Council cannot omit those with a soul, whatever form it takes. After proven by a shadow reader, there would be uproar if they refused to co-operate. It is our first step to freedom.’

‘How does the chosen one replace it?’

‘The soul can only be transferred through blood-drinking. The chosen one must drink the soul-giver to the point of death and remain there at the Brink long enough for the soul to transfer. Then the metamorphosis from vampire to the Tryan – our leader – will be complete.’

Caleb frowned. ‘But a vampire can’t drink dying blood.’

‘The Armun protects them – but from only one type of blood. Very special blood. The same as the soul can’t be that of just any human. It needs to be a soul that is strong enough to survive long enough for the transference to complete.’

‘And such a human exists?’

‘Oh, indeed they do. In small numbers. Ever smaller numbers.’

Caleb tensed. His heart that usually beat so slowly began to race.

‘Why do you think the Higher Order is so protective over them, Caleb? Why do you think they carry such a weighty price on their heads when slaughtering them is the obvious option?’

‘Serryns,’ he said, his heart splintering.

‘Yes, my sweet Caleb, serryns. More lethal to the vampire than sunlight or hemlock.’ She paused. ‘The Tryan, the chosen one, must take the life of a serryn, drink her, even her very last drop of dying blood, especially her last drop, abandoning her at the Brink for eternity as they return victorious. Then the prophecy will come into fruition.’

‘That’s why they changed the rules. That’s why they stopped me killing them.’

‘If there’s no serryn, there’s no Tryan. They couldn’t risk them becoming extinct.’

‘But surely the Higher Order would have known this all along. Why let us hunt them at all?’

‘We’ve always known what the symbol meant, but not how to bring the prophecy into fulfilment. The serryns saw to that. It was their most closely guarded secret – so integral to the very prophecy that they would relinquish their lives to ensure it isn’t fulfilled. But when the truth was finally uncovered by one of our own eighty years ago, the Higher Order had no choice but to change the law from hunting serryns to death to salvaging them. They’d been hunted into endangerment and into hiding. We’d put our own future under threat.’

‘More reason why we should have been told.’

‘And have every mercenary out there demand whatever they wanted for the capture of one? And as the symbol is destined to appear only on a member of the Higher Order, anyone outside had no need to know. Besides, we couldn’t let the serryns know we knew their secret. It was the one way we retained the upper hand. They still don’t know. The Higher Order make their demands and the ranks follow without question – that’s how it works. But there were always the few hunters that didn’t heed our advice.’ She held his gaze knowingly. ‘One in particular. Caleb: the bane of the Higher Order. What were we to do with you?’

‘When is this great rising expected?’

‘The prophecies give us no clue. Only that the symbol will appear when the time has come.’

‘Which is why the Higher Order needs a serryn on standby at all times.’

‘Unfortunately the last died twenty years ago. As yet no replacement has been found. But I’ve said enough. More than enough. And I urge you, Caleb, you must keep this secret. Our future depends on word not getting out.’

‘Is the serryn that is needed special in any way? Is there anything recognisable?’

Niras smiled. ‘Are you missing the hunt, Caleb?’

‘I’d like to know what I was looking for. Is there anything to look for, like the symbol on the chosen one?’

‘No. There is nothing that we know of. But if the prophecy is right, the serryn will find the Tryan. It’s their fate.’

‘If the chosen one is immune to her blood, does she have the ability to kill them? Can she prevent the prophecy happening?’

Niras nodded. ‘Yes. And believe me; she will try everything to do just that. It will be her main objective.’

‘Will she know of the chosen one? Will she be able to sense it?’

‘She will sense it. As they will her.’ Her eyes were unnervingly sullen. ‘Faced with the chosen one, the serryn is more powerful than even you can imagine, Caleb. And more dangerous. I can assure you, she will stop at nothing. She will do whatever is necessary to prevent the prophecy coming into being – in any way possible. Even forsaking herself, if that’s what it takes.’