Dark Studies (Arcaneology) (27 page)

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Authors: C. P. Foster

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BOOK: Dark Studies (Arcaneology)
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A sense of foreboding tickled up the base of Sarah’s spine. She didn’t realize she’d stopped breathing until her body reminded her of the need for oxygen. Her inhalation sounded loud in the silence. Sarah felt the urge to wrap her arms around herself or at least clasp her hands together. Realizing this immediately put an end to it. Emotion withdrew into its distant hiding place, leaving her calm inside and out.

“As our equals,” the chairperson said, “human beings must have the right to defend themselves. Miss Miller will serve as an example of our resolve that all vampires shall respect this right. She will not be punished for killing Antonio Romero, but instead be treated as a guest of honor at each nation in the Covenant. Each sovereign will hold a gathering of his or her citizens to announce the formation of the multinational committee for enforcement of the new laws, and at each of these gatherings Sarah Miller will tell her story.”

Sarah’s mouth fell open in disbelief. Beside her, Vanessa twitched and James turned to narrow his eyes at the chairperson. The smaller vampire returned his look with a grave nod.

“We realize this will put Miss Miller in danger. Monarch Romero has offered a substantial reward for any vampire who brings her to him. There are also those who will try to impose the old ways upon this human. Just as we wish to make her a symbol of our new laws, they will wish to make her a symbol of their opposition to them. Therefore, she will be guarded at all times by those who have proven their loyalty to the Covenant’s cause. Her safety will be our highest priority.”

A reward? It sounded like something out of an old Western movie. Wanted, dead or alive. How much was she worth? Would there be a bad drawing of her tacked up on the wall in vampire sheriff’s offices? Sarah stifled a hysterical giggle.

At last, the stillness was broken. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, some shaking their heads, others nodding agreement. A few rose to their feet as if to protest, but the chairperson’s soft soprano voice cut across them all.

“This is our decree. Sovereigns of the Covenant, are there any who dissent?”

None of those standing in the front row spoke. They looked out upon the crowd until everyone fell silent once again.

“Let there be no doubt. Each Sovereign or representative of the same will now speak their agreement aloud.”

At the end of the row, Lord Scott raised one hand. His voice rang with authority. “As Lord of the province of Puget Sound, I affirm the decision of the Covenant and vow to uphold its ruling.”

When he lowered his hand, the female beside him, who wore the gold-and-blue sari, raised hers. Her arm glittered with gold bangles. “As Ruler of the City of New York, I affirm the decision of the Covenant and vow to uphold its ruling.”

Next came the Monarch of the Mississippi River Territory, the male in a black tuxedo with tails. Then Lord of the province of Southern Louisiana, the Monarch of the Southwestern Territory, the Monarch of the Southeastern Seaboard Territory, the Lord of the province of the Florida Keys, the Ruler of Las Vegas, and so on down the line. A pattern emerged: provinces had Lords, territories had Monarchs, and city-states had Rulers.

When the last had spoken, the chairperson raised her hands to recapture everyone’s attention. “The Covenant Council will work out the details of this decision. The rest of you will leave, now, and spread word throughout the nations.”

The Covenant’s leaders turned away as everyone else began to file out, and the chairperson gestured to Sarah, Vanessa, and Morgan to step down from the stage.

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

—Sir Isaac Newton

 

 

The walk to Denny Hall from her parking spot in the University of Washington’s Central Plaza garage had never seemed long before, but with injured ribs and deep tissue bruises splashed all over her body, it seemed to take forever. Angie went slowly. The thing about injuries to the ribs, she’d discovered, was that there were so many muscles attached to them. Any movement that required her back, abdominals, or laterals pulled at the broken bone and caused twinges of pain that built one on the other into a constant ache. Carrying her backpack didn’t help. She would have left it behind if she hadn’t needed her laptop for this meeting.

Joseph followed at a discreet distance. She didn’t want to explain why she had a bodyguard, but she didn’t feel safe without him nearby. He agreed to keep his distance only because it was the middle of the day, and he didn’t need to worry about the speed and stealth of vampire attackers. No one in the crowd of students and teachers gave him a second glance.

Professor Benotti took one look at her and jumped up from behind his desk, setting off a cascade of papers. He cleared a chair, shoving books to the floor, then took her backpack and helped her sit.

“Angie, what the hell happened to you?”

“Car accident.” She settled onto the chair and waited for her breathing to return to normal.

It was four days after the attack, and she still felt like hell. The torn flesh on her face and breasts had mostly healed, as James said it would, and though the injuries were still pink and shiny, no one seeing them now would guess how terrible they had been. More importantly, she could sit without cringing. The doctors had also used the new medication to repair the anal damage. There was not enough of the medicine to heal all of her wounds, so they left the bruises and broken bones to nature.

When the doctors released her, she and her bodyguards had driven back to Seattle using a circuitous route. They were cautious to the point of paranoia in order to make sure she wasn't followed. She learned a great deal about how to disappear without a trace. They avoided security cameras, which were far more common than she’d realized, and took steps to shake surveillance in case they were being tailed. The three of them disappeared off the grid so they could not be found by credit card traces, security checks, or cell phone GPS locators. Thanks to Night and Day’s resources and Joseph and Ron’s personal contacts, they were able to get rental cars without using their own names. Someone else rented the car, then handed it over to them, and they dropped it off after business hours in another city, then picked up another at a prearranged location. The cheap motels they stayed in required neither credit cards nor ID.

The long trip gave her too much time to brood over what James had done. By the time she got home, she was sick to death of her own thoughts and desperate for distraction. The dissertation offered that.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Benotti asked. “We could have postponed this.”

Angie gestured toward her backpack. “My laptop is in there. Would you fire it up? I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you the good news.”

“What news?”

Benotti wrestled the thing out of her backpack and made space on his desk. It came on with a beep.

“Go into my documents. Click on the folder labeled ‘Journals’ and open the first file.”

She waited while he used the glide point pad to navigate. The professor frowned, then his eyes widened.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Yep. I won't have full access for a few weeks, and it will take time to get them all scanned, but the owner is willing to let me work with them as much as I like.”

“The Journals of Iphra-El.” He tipped his head back so he could squint through the lower lens of his bifocals, and he studied the files with growing interest. “This is incredible. How did you get them?”

“Long story. The short version is that I’ve been interviewing Aaron White, one of the Fallen, and when I learned who purchased the journals, he insisted on going with me to speak to the owner. Aaron persuaded the man to sell them to him.”

“Amazing. Frankly, I never imagined you’d get anywhere near them. What’s this, eighteenth-century English? And this looks like Chinese, but I can’t tell what period. You’re going to have a hell of a time translating these.”

“I’ll manage. So, do I have the go-ahead?”

“Have you narrowed the focus? What is the aim?”

“The aim is to expand our knowledge of the Fallen.”

“Well, that’s nice and vague.”

Angie grimaced and tried again. “All right. The aim is to describe the terrestrial life of the Fallen, beginning with the initial choice to take physical form and ending with the passing on to the next stage of their existence.”

“Better.” Closing her laptop, he sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together. “There’s something we haven’t discussed. It’s not usually an issue, at least not one I feel I have to bring up, but with the Fallen…well…”

“Go on,” she said.

“I don’t want to make any assumptions, so I’ll just ask. Have you…?”

“Had sex with my subject? Yes.”

Benotti turned bright red and found a sudden need to adjust some papers on his desk. “You realize sexual relationships with research subjects are strictly taboo.”

“Yes, but the main reason is to protect the subjects from exploitation,” Angie protested. “Can anyone honestly say I’m exploiting the Fallen? If anything, he is taking advantage of me.”

Benotti sighed. “I’m just warning you what to expect. It will destroy your standing in the academic community if anyone finds out.”

“Will it prevent me from getting my doctorate?”

“Absolutely. If you want that degree, you have to keep it secret. You can always write a book later that details your personal experiences. I have no doubt you’d find a publisher.”

“But—” Angie started to argue, then realized he had to cover his ass. He could face disciplinary action himself if the administration learned what she’d done. Benotti might understand her situation, but she couldn’t expect him to share responsibility for her decisions. He was already going out on a limb by keeping it to himself. “I understand.”

“Put together a list of objectives and a literature review, and we’ll get to work on the proposal.”

The professor put her laptop away, then helped her get up from the chair, a painful process that involved far too many core muscles. He insisted on carrying the backpack to her car. After he had gone, she sat behind the wheel staring at her rearview mirror. Where was Joseph? Sometimes he blended in to his surroundings so effectively she couldn’t find him. It made her nervous. What if something had happened to him? The thought that she might be completely alone and unprotected sent panic stabbing through her chest. Angie clenched her hands around the steering wheel to keep them from shaking.

A car pulled out of a parking spot on the next row and edged around until it stopped a few yards behind her. She was already reaching for the panic button in her purse when she saw her bodyguard in the driver’s seat.

Angie closed her eyes. She couldn’t live like this indefinitely.

 

 

 

The woman who answered the door was at least ten years Angie’s senior. She had short, dark hair and wore a snug pair of yoga pants and a tight tank top, the sort Angie wore when she went to the gym. They showed off the sleek build of a distance runner. After taking stock of her visitors, she hung back, looking uneasy as they made their way into the main living space.

The view was spectacular. Angie had been in luxury homes before, but none of them looked out over the city and Puget Sound like this high-rise condominium did. Even Aaron’s home in Reno had not been as impressive as this. Her bodyguard studied the place, no doubt checking for potential dangers or holes in security. He eyed the balcony in particular and the windows making up an entire wall.

“Is that you, Angie?” Aaron called from another room. She’d warned him she was recovering from some serious injuries, though she gave no details, and suspected he was making certain he was sated before she arrived.

“It’s me,” she called back.

The Fallen emerged and strode toward her with an eager expression. It faded quickly, however, and his steps faltered.

“I had no idea,” he said.

“It isn’t as bad as it looks.” Setting down her backpack, she moved to close the distance between them.

Aaron went pale. “That isn’t true. It is, actually, worse than it appears.”

He tensed, started to edge back, then stopped. Angie slowed to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I didn’t realize you were so badly injured.” He took a deep breath and gestured for her to have a seat on the leather couch that faced a wall of glass overlooking the Sound. He sat in a chair far enough away that he could not touch her. “Angie, it never occurred to me to tell you. We, the Fallen, gain strength from pleasure. Pain has the opposite effect. Do you understand? Your pain weakens me. It hurts.”

Why hadn’t she thought of this before? It was a logical conclusion, one she should have explored in their interview. It wasn’t personal, so it shouldn’t bother her that he couldn’t bring himself to come any closer. But it did. “Would it help if I took a painkiller? I have some, I’ve just been trying to tough it out because they make me a little fuzzy.”

“It would help a great deal.” He looked relieved. “Karen? Could you get our guest some water?”

The woman went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of mineral water that she handed to her guest with an apologetic smile. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself. When I saw your condition, I was worried about how it would affect Aaron. I’m Karen.”

“I’m Angie.” They shook hands. Angie fished a prescription bottle from her pocket and used the water to wash down a couple of pills.

Turning to Joseph, Karen asked, “Can I get you anything? A drink?”

“Water would be great.” He nodded politely. To Aaron, he said, “Would you mind if I checked the rest of the rooms? No offense, I just like to be thorough.”

“Of course. You must do what is necessary to protect your charge.”

Her bodyguard slipped from the living area to assess the rest of the place. When he went into the room where Aaron had been before they arrived, there was a murmur of voices, then a soft female laugh.

Aaron tilted his head slightly to one side and studied Angie. “A vampire did this to you.”

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