A Vampire's Promise (24 page)

The skin on the back of my hand where he'd kissed me was beginning to tingle. It reminded me of the pins and needles sensation that happens when your hand or foot falls asleep. It was more annoying than painful, and not wanting to attract any undue attention, I ignored it. I needed to stay sharp because a sudden tension had formed between Vladimir and Katja.

“I thought I'd surprise him,” Katja said, in response to his question.

I stared at her, noting the whisper of hesitation that colored her words. She wasn't as sure of herself as she would have either of us believe. Seeing my interest, Katja switched to her own language. I have no idea what she said to Vladimir, but it seemed to me she was giving him her version of events. Not being able to contradict what she said was annoying, especially as her scornful expression and contemptuous tone told me it was all rude and disparaging.

Thankfully, Vladimir interrupted her in mid-flow, cutting her off with a sharp wave of his hand. I wasn't sure if the sound I heard as she snapped her mouth shut was her jaw popping or her teeth clacking. Either way it was loud. She stared at me, a feral look gleaming in her amethyst eyes. I swallowed and took a step back, pulling my hand free of Vladimir's hold.

“Katja, have you thought about what you are doing?” Apparently Vladimir didn't have a problem with me knowing what was being said. “If Gabriel has not requested Rowan's presence, your actions may be construed as . . . intrusive.”

Katja snorted derisively, and his expression changed. He gave her a look of resignation, one that made me think he was mentally separating himself from whatever course of action she was determined to follow. I didn't take it as a good sign.

“Don't you think she should know the truth?” As if she were doing me a favor, Katja leaned back against the wall and folded her arms. “He has told her nothing, and she believes they have a future together.”

She said nothing else, but I could tell from Vladimir's face that he was able to fill in the blanks. I wished I could.

“Be careful, Katja; what you are contemplating will have consequences.” His voice was solemn and grave. “Consequences I suspect you have not fully realized.”

Oh, shit! This was so not what I needed to hear.

Katja switched back to her own language, and from the cadence, her expression, and the occasional “fuck you” she threw in, I figured she was cursing both of us. I wished to hell I knew what it was I should already know.

Reaching out, Vladimir caught a lock of my hair in his hand, running it between his fingers. He seemed to be admiring the burnished copper color in the light. “If you insist on being so reckless,” he said, quietly addressing Katja, while keeping his eyes firmly fixed on my hair, “I will not offer you my protection.”

She looked momentarily startled and then quickly regained her composure, her mouth forming a scornful line. It was obvious Vladimir was not going to dissuade her from her purpose. I felt a skein of fear unraveling in the pit of my stomach.

Letting go of my hair, he continued, “Have you thought what will happen if Gabriel's reaction is not what you expect it to be?” His voice was soft, reasonable, and scared me to death. “An error in judgment on your part, Katja, may bring with it more than Gabriel's displeasure. His censure may prove . . . difficult to bear.”

Katja snapped out something sharp and grabbed my arm again, jerking me to her side. Whatever she said made Vladimir chuckle, but with no humor that I could detect. He gave me an old-fashioned bow. “The pleasure was all mine, Rowan, and I look forward to meeting you again . . . perhaps.”

“W
as that your father?” I asked once we rounded a corner and Vladimir was no longer in sight.

“In a manner of speaking.” The reply was brusque, punctuated by another rude snorting sound. I definitely wasn't feeling the love.

Katja had lengthened her stride, so I was forced to almost run in order to keep up. If I fell, I doubted she would even notice, and the effort I was expending was beginning to take its toll.

Being dragged down yet another long corridor, past several doors, and up another staircase forced me to acknowledge that I was totally lost. There was no way I was going to be able to find my way out of here without a GPS, and maybe not even then. It occurred to me that perhaps this was her plan all along. Instead of confronting Gabriel, Katja was going to drop my arm at any moment and sprint away, thus dooming me to wander along endless hallways looking for a way out. She was hoping that by the time I did, Gabriel would have forgotten all about me.

At this point, I didn't much care because my calf muscles were cramping. I've never understood the point of power walking, except that it's sadistic. Walking is meant to be pleasurable, and I'm a definite meanderer. I was forced to stop at one point so that I could catch my breath, and Katja made her annoyance plain. Bitch.

I would have given a kidney for a chair to collapse onto, but the hallway was devoid of furniture, so I planted my butt against the ugly wallpaper and bent over. Hands on my knees, I sucked in air as my calves screamed and my thighs trembled. Somewhere to my left a door opened, and I turned my head to see whose curiosity we had aroused now. Maybe Vladimir had told someone else we were here, and they had come to see for themselves. It would be great if they also had a glass of water.

“Katja? What are you—”

The question was cut off by a sharp intake of breath, followed by an explosion, once again in a foreign language, but ending with a
have you lost your fucking mind?
I understood that all too clearly. The tone was incensed and got my attention.

He wasn't wearing his greatcoat, but the buzzed haircut and camouflage pants tucked into military-style boots were reminder enough. And even if they weren't, there was no mistaking the wicked scar on his face.

“Hello, Aleksei . . . 'sup?” I wearily lifted the hand I'd been bracing on one knee and gave him a tired wave. It had been quite a journey from the front door.

He stared at me, his eyes open in horrified disbelief, which wasn't exactly the reaction I'd been hoping for. At our only meeting he'd been pleasant and polite—even, I thought, a little flirtatious—and I was grateful to see him again, hoping I might have found an ally. Or at least someone willing to run interference with Katja and maybe show me the way out. His immediate response to my presence, however, indicated that someone was in deep shit.

Stepping past me, he grabbed Katja by her upper arms, lifted her bodily off the floor, and shook her. It made me think of a pit bull on steroids. The chopsticks finally came loose and her hair fell free of its artificial disorder, but she didn't seem that upset by the manhandling she was receiving. In fact, she gave all the appearance of enjoying the rough physical contact.

“She doesn't know!” she hissed when Aleksei was done with the dog and rat routine and she was once more standing on her own two feet. Her eyes took on a hard gleam. “She thinks we are
gangsters
.”

“It doesn't matter what she thinks,” Aleksei growled, loosening his hold and stepping back. “It is not your concern.”

“Not even when Gabriel risks us all every time he is with her?”

She looked at the Russian soldier, then at me, and then back at him. I saw her take a deep, calming breath, and when she began speaking again her voice was softer, more persuasive. She put her hand on his thick, muscular forearm. “Aleksei, you know every night he is with her, he puts us at risk. One wrong word spoken at the wrong time—”

“This I already know!” The big guy folded his arms across his chest but refused to meet her gaze. He seemed fascinated by the pattern in the carpet instead.

“You are closer to him than any of us,” Katja soothed softly. “Can't you make him see how foolish it is to keep her?”

What was I—a golden retriever?

“You don't understand—” Aleksei began.

“What? That she intrigues him?” The roll of Katja's violet eyes illustrated all too well her opinion regarding that suggestion. “I will admit he has kept her far longer than any of the others,” she acknowledged grudgingly, “but you must make him see reason.” Placing her hands on either side of his face, she tilted his head up so he was forced to look at her. “She needs to be gone, Aleksei. Surely you can see that?”

“Uh, guys, you do realize I can hear every word you're saying, right?”

With my breathing now pretty much back to normal, I straightened up. Aleksei had the decency to look embarrassed, but Katja's response was simply to shrug her shoulders and switch to her own language. I wondered how long it would take me to find the way out by myself. Surely if I just kept heading down, then eventually I would have to come to an outside door. I might even run into the smooth Vladimir, who surely knew the way out.

Katja tossed her long mane of glossy black hair over one shoulder and began gesturing with her hands. The words might have been beyond my comprehension, but I could tell the Goth Queen was starting to get pissed. It seemed Aleksei wasn't being quite as agreeable as she wanted. I began edging my way along the wall, wanting to get as big a head start as possible before I bolted.

I froze when Katja shrieked.

The sound was so sharp and piercing, I was surprised the light fixtures didn't shatter. I whipped my head around to see she was once more in Aleksei's grip, only this time she didn't seem to be enjoying it. The way she was twisting and throwing herself against him, struggling to get free, I fully expected her shoulder to pop out of joint at any moment. But she was no match for his size and strength. She stopped fighting and started shrieking again. It took me a moment or two to realize she was cussing him out in English.

“Stop it, Katja!” The big guy snapped his arm with enough force to make her head jolt back. “You're behaving like a child.”

Yep, a six-year-old throwing one hell of a temper tantrum. I waited for him to start with the dog and rat imitation again, but he didn't. I think he decided to see how long it was going to take before Katja realized the futility of her efforts.

“What is this obsession he has,” she wailed, “and why her? She is weak! If he wanted someone, then I would be the better choice—you know I would!”

Oh Christ! Not this again!

Something in Aleksei's face changed. It reminded me of the expression the state trooper wore when he stood in my kitchen. The bearer of terrible, awful news.

“He will never choose you, Katja,” he said, softening his voice as if that would make his words easier to hear. “This is not the first time he has found Rowan. You don't know what she is to him.”

I watched the fight go out of the exotic beauty, watched her go completely still. Her only movement was to tilt her head far enough to one side to clear the hair from her face. Aleksei's statement had the same effect as a hose of cold water aimed at a couple of snarling dogs. Taking a deep breath, Katja gave her complete and undivided attention to the big Russian.

And so did I.

“What do you mean?” she asked in a voice that was filled with both disbelief and suspicion. “Why will he never choose me?”

Aleksei sighed, and let go of her hands. “Gabriel is bound to Rowan in a way that cannot be broken, at least not by you.”

“But . . .” She floundered, searching for an answer to a problem she didn't fully comprehend.

“Katja, if you are thinking that you can make Gabriel give Rowan up, I will tell you now, he will not do it. And if he cannot have Rowan, for
any
reason, he will take no other.”

I gasped at the familiar phrasing and saw Katja stumble back until she hit the wall. If I hadn't been so astounded by Aleksei's words, I might have felt sorry for her.

The big guy, apparently remembering I was still there, gave me a look that said he had broken some sacred trust. For a moment I thought he might ask for my forgiveness, but I guess the look on my face told him I was on a quick day trip to Clueless Land with no idea what he was talking about. If he didn't pick up on this, Katja certainly did.

“I think you have been drinking too much vodka,” she said, snapping her spine back into place and giving Aleksei a scornful poke in the chest with her finger. “You are speaking more stupid than normal.”

I could see her calculating
something,
and I knew the minute everything slotted into place for her. Pushing the long curtain of hair back from her face, she moved toward me but found her way blocked by Aleksei's arm.

“Gabriel has been waiting a long time for Rowan,” he told her, “and this time he will not give her up.”

“Did you ever think, Aleksei, that perhaps Gabriel will not be the one to do the giving up?”

Glancing in my direction, the big guy gave me another look that I didn't understand, which actually was okay because my powers of comprehension had fallen right off the grid. His massive chest moved as he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Like Katja, I realized something had fallen into place for him also.

“There's something you don't know,” he said solemnly.

It was good to know I wasn't the only one. Was someone finally going to start making sense? After all, I was involved in all of this, quite intimately as it happened.

“What?” Katja's voice reverted back to the anxious six-year-old whose promised treat was in danger of being taken away. “What is it you think I don't know?”

C'mon, Aleksei, cough it up, I want to know as well.

The Russian rubbed his hand over his bristled head before suddenly pointing a finger in my direction. “Rowan is his
Promise
.”

Get outta here! No shit—really? I'm his
what?

The intake of breath from Katja was so loud it sounded like a whistle. And then she began to laugh, a low chuckle that quickly climbed in volume and pitch before exploding in hysteria. I jumped at the sound of Aleksei's hand slapping her, the resonance bouncing off the ugly wallpaper.

“I don't believe you!” Katja exclaimed. Her eyes glittered wildly as she held her hand to her cheek. It didn't cover the big guy's imprint.

“Is the truth,” he hissed back. “Gabriel told me that night at the movie theater.” Aleksei didn't apologize for striking her, but he did look somewhat ill at ease, telling me he was more than a little uncomfortable disclosing whatever it was that had been discussed. “Now do you understand why he won't let her go—why he cannot?”

I sure as hell didn't, but that didn't matter because Katja did. And judging from the shocked look on her face, it wasn't something she was about to accept.

“No, no, no!” she sputtered angrily. “No one believes a
Promise
to be real—”

“Gabriel does,” Aleksei interrupted firmly, cutting off whatever else Katja might be thinking of saying.

I watched both of them as my passport got stamped and I crossed over from Clueless Land into the Continent of the Totally Lost. What were they talking about? I was a
Promise?
What did that mean? The only definition I knew of a promise said it was a pledge, an oath, or a solemn agreement. But how could a person be a promise? I tried telling myself it was all a ridiculous misunderstanding due to semantics, but I had the sinking feeling there was another meaning I was missing completely. A meaning that had implications I knew nothing about.

I desperately wanted to ask Aleksei what the fuck was going on, but he had his hands full with Katja again, only this time she wasn't being aggressive. She looked very much like someone who was about to have a face-to-face meeting with the carpet. Clutching his muscular arm, she stared into his face, searching for something. A denial would be my guess.

“I don't believe you,” she muttered, glaring at me, “and even if you speak the truth, I refuse to believe Gabriel would have chosen someone like
her
.”

Loathing spilled out of her cranberry-stained lips, the depth of her antipathy reaching a level that unnerved me. Katja's visit to my house tonight had revealed her feelings for Gabriel. Her reaction now was a testament to the strength of those feelings, and a warning of how dangerous she was because of them.

Murmuring her name soothingly, Aleksei put his arm around her shoulders and patted her back. Katja dropped her head and gave what sounded like a strangled sob, her hair cascading about her like a mantle, hiding her face. Things had taken a definite turn for the significantly weird. I was also fed up with both of them talking about me as if I wasn't standing less than ten feet away.

I gave up the idea of running down the hall. I doubted I could have outrun Katja anyway, and I knew for sure I wouldn't be able to escape Aleksei. Suddenly jerking herself out of the Russian's hold, Katja stared at him. The amethyst eyes continued to glitter, but now it was with something wild and dangerous.

“Prove it,” she said, staring hard into his face. “If she's his
Promise,
then she will be marked.”

The big guy began mumbling in frustration. Irritated and angry all at once, he narrowed his eyes and looked at me in such a way that I began assessing my chances of making a break for it. They weren't good. I had absolutely no idea what was going on inside the Russian's head, had no idea what was going on outside of it for that matter, but I wanted to let him know I wasn't going down without a fight. I didn't care how big he was.