Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set (42 page)

“The honor is all mine.” Lorcan cleared his throat impatiently and the sound served as a reminder to Tibor that he was still holding Tanzi's hand. He released her, bowing slightly and indicating a room on his right. “Shall we?” His smile deepened as Lorcan made a move to follow them. “There will be no need for your bodyguard to accompany us. I am more than capable of looking after you.” His silken tone became dismissive as he faced Lorcan. “Nicu will escort you to the kitchens, where the cook will provide a meal for you.”

“I am not leaving the princess's side.” Lorcan folded his arms across his chest. It was a statement of intent.

“Such devotion to duty.” Tibor's eyes narrowed slightly as they took in the unyielding look on Lorcan's face.

Tanzi debated the situation quickly. They needed this safe passage from Tibor. If he refused them, they would be forced to turn back. She would be driven into hiding and, even with Lorcan at her side, she didn't like her chances of staying concealed with Moncoya and Iago—not to mention Satan himself—on her tail. Turning to Lorcan so that her back was to Tibor, she tried to convey her thoughts to him with her eyes. At the same time, she uttered the words he didn't want to hear. “You may leave me with the prince.”

For a moment she thought he would refuse. His jaw was rigid and she could see the internal battle he was waging. Willing him with her eyes to comply, she bit her lip. Eventually, he drew a ragged breath before nodding curtly. “Call me if you need me.”

Turning on his heel, he strode away. Watching the proud set of those broad shoulders, Tanzi felt suddenly, overwhelmingly sad.

Tibor ushered her into an informal dining room, where a table had been set for two. “Alone at last.”

He really was such a cliché. Just not a stereotypical vampire, she thought, as he held out her chair with old-fashioned courtesy. Tibor was more her idea of a mortal playboy prince. Strikingly handsome with razor-sharp cheekbones and a square, sculpted jaw, he wore his white-blond hair so short that the stubble on his head was the same length as the neat beard framing his surprisingly full lips. In contrast to his Nordic coloring, his skin had a light gold hue. Beneath his perfectly fitting designer suit, his body was hard and toned. Although he had never shown her anything other than courtesy, Tanzi knew his reputation. His control over the vampires was absolute, and he was ruthless when crossed.

Tibor indicated the array of silver salvers that were arranged on the table. “My chef has prepared your favorite dishes.”

His words jolted her.
He remembers the foods I like?
Having an admirer who was the vampire overlord was one thing. This felt uncomfortably like stalking. His eyes on her face did nothing to alleviate her unease. His expression was...
hungry
. For the first time ever, Tanzi could have sworn she glimpsed the white gleam of his fangs as he turned aside to pour wine into her glass. Usually, Tibor was completely in control. Suddenly, it seemed he wasn't. Perhaps sending Lorcan away had not been such a good idea, after all. Despite her strength and Valkyrie training, Tanzi knew she would be no match for a vampire.
He doesn't want to fight you,
a little voice inside her whispered.
It might be better if he did,
another one snickered.

Although he was unable to eat any of the food, Tibor insisted on serving her himself. “We don't want interruptions.”

He sat back in his chair, watching her as she made a pretense of enjoying the exquisitely prepared food. Her mind insisted on making contrasts.
I don't want a man who can't eat anything. I want a man who can share pizza and beer with me. I don't want a man who has been measured for his hand-stitched suit. I want a man who doesn't care if his boots are worn and his jeans are frayed. I don't want a man who looks at me as if I'm a precious jewel. I want a man who hauls me into his arms and shows me how much he wants me by taking me first roughly then tenderly. I don't want to make polite conversation. I want to flirt and laugh and whisper nonsense after we've made love. I don't want a prince. I know exactly who I want.

“Have you heard from your father since his exile?”

The abrupt question made her choke slightly on her wine. It seemed Tibor was not so lost in love that he couldn't spare time for a little business. She shot him a sidelong glance under her lashes. It was a difficult question to answer, since she had no idea whether Tibor himself was still in touch with Moncoya. Otherworld politics were a complex affair.

In the end, she opted for a noncommittal approach. “Now, how am I supposed to answer that? If I say yes, I am guilty of treason against the Alliance. If I say no, you will see me as a disloyal daughter.”

“You are learning to be a diplomat.” His smile was genuinely charming.

“Merlin Caledonius is a good tutor.”

“This mission to the Spae is an odd one. With only the Irish necromancer for company? Hardly in keeping with your royal status.” He leaned back in his chair, deceptively casual. She was reminded of an inquisitor waiting to pounce as soon as she slipped up.

Tanzi kept her voice light. “The Spae are known for their dislike of ceremony.” Was that true? She hoped so. “It was felt a low-key approach was best.”

“The food is good?”

The change of subject caught her off guard. “Um, yes. Delicious.” She set her knife and fork down. “But I'm full. Thank you.”

Without warning, he caught hold of her hand, raising it to his lips once more. This time, there was no mistaking the glide of fangs over her flesh. It took every ounce of Tanzi's self-control to stop herself from shuddering. “You know how I have always felt about you. Let me offer you a return to the lifestyle you lost with your father's defeat.”

That explained the triumph. He thought she was so shallow that she would want her royal status back at any price.
Let's face it, Tanzi, that's exactly the person you used to be.
“My family is disgraced. I am no longer a fit person to rule alongside you.”

His eyes narrowed to chips of blue ice. “Let me be the judge of that. Or are you telling me you do not wish to be my wife?”

Oh hell.
How was she supposed to answer
that
and get out of here with a safe passage? Lowering her eyes, she tried to keep her voice shy and soft. “These past months have been so difficult, Tibor. The battle lost, the faeries overthrown, my father disgraced, my sister injured...and now I am charged with this new role of envoy to the Alliance.”

“You are saying you need time to consider?” She risked a glance at his face. His expression was a combination of incredulity and suspicion.

Appeal to his chivalrous nature.
Not a rule she ever thought she would apply to a vampire, but Tibor was no ordinary vampire. “You have always been so understanding.” She sighed. She decided against a flutter of the eyelashes. That might be a step too far.

He bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Very well. I will be patient awhile longer. Next time we meet, however, I will expect an answer from you, Tanzi.” This time, when he smiled, he made no attempt to disguise his fangs.

CHAPTER 15

I
f he hadn't been so worried about how Tanzi was faring with her bloodsucking admirer, Lorcan might actually have been able to enjoy himself. It wasn't often he got to set a roomful of vampires on edge with his very presence. The servants' quarters occupied the entire basement of the castle, and it was apparent that word of his arrival had spread like wildfire. As if he was the monster in an old-fashioned freak show, every one of Tibor's attendants wanted to get a look at the necromancer, even though he clearly struck fear into their hearts.
The rumors are true, guys. I can turn each of you into a statue with a single word.
Lorcan got the feeling if he said “boo” loudly enough, they would all run screaming to their master. It was worth bearing in mind. That would be one way to interrupt Tibor's amorous plans for Tanzi.

“How did you get to be such a good cook when you can't eat anything yourself?” he asked the chef, as the man skittered around him serving plates of delicious food.

“Before my transformation, I trained at the finest hotel in Paris.”

The only other person who ate anything was Nicu. The man was obviously Tibor's new human slave. Dimitar's replacement. The thought took him back to that night in Tangier. “Why would a human servant switch allegiance?” Lorcan tilted his chair back, startling a young vampire housemaid who had sneaked closer to him.

“Stupidity.” A sneer accompanied the word.

Lorcan decided he didn't like Nicu. “Seriously. I thought you guys were bonded to your vampire master for all eternity.”

“We are. In the mortal realm we are the daylight eyes, ears, hands and voices of the master vampire we serve. Becoming a servant gives us immunity to the mind control of other vampires. Unless one more powerful than our own master wills us.”

Lorcan shook his head. “That's not what happened with Dimitar. Jethro is not a vampire and he didn't command Dimitar to leave Prince Tibor. In fact, he was as surprised as everyone else when he suddenly acquired a human servant.”

Nicu shook his head dismissively. “Not possible.”

Lorcan was tired of the man's sour expression. “Have it your way.” He glanced at the clock that hung over the vast industrial cooker, although the action was pointless. Time meant nothing to vampires. The clock was for decorative purposes only. Its hands were frozen in position at midnight. The witching hour.

Nicu followed Lorcan's gaze. “My master likes to take his time over affairs of the heart.”

“I'll just bet he does.” Telling himself his feelings were rooted in his dislike and distrust of Tibor, nothing more, Lorcan scraped back his chair and rose to his feet. “Unfortunately for the prince, time is one thing I don't have much of.”

“You will not dare disturb him!”

“Won't I?” Lorcan made for the door. He threw a challenging look back over his shoulder. “Care to watch me?” None of the vampires moved.

Nicu was hard at his heels as Lorcan sprinted up the flight of stairs that led back to the palatial entrance hall.
Touch me and Tibor will be looking for yet another human servant.
Desperate for an outlet for the pent-up anger that had been fizzing inside him ever since Tanzi had dismissed him earlier, he willed Nicu to try something. Perhaps Nicu sensed it, for, although he stayed with him, he kept his hands to himself.

Shit!
Which room had they gone into? He threw open two other doors before bursting into the dining room, where Tanzi was seated with Tibor.

“I tried to stop him, master...” Nicu's voice was a high-pitched wheedle.

“Unsuccessfully, I perceive.”

Tibor's tone sent a slight shiver down Lorcan's spine. It didn't bode well for Nicu later. He scanned Tanzi's face. She returned his probing gaze with a reassuring smile. “Have you come to tell me we must go if we are to complete our journey in the allotted time?”

“If you like.” Her eyes widened in warning. Lorcan shrugged a response. He was no longer in the mood to be conciliatory.

Tibor rose to his feet, his suave manner unruffled. “So we must part company again, Princess.” He turned to Lorcan. “You have my word that you will be safe in my waters, my friend.”

“Thank you.” Lorcan did his best to sound gracious. It was difficult through clenched teeth. He could keep telling himself this wasn't about jealousy. He might even succeed in convincing himself.

“There is one small problem, however.”
Wouldn't you just know it?
Tibor beckoned Lorcan and Tanzi over to a large, gilt-framed map that occupied most of one wall. It was a chart of the islands of the Vampire Archipelago, more detailed than those Cal had provided for them. The prince tapped one manicured fingernail against the northernmost island. “I cannot vouch for the obedience of the inhabitants of this island.”

“Who are they?”

“The Loup Garou.”

Lorcan raised his brows. “I am surprised to learn any of their number reside within your jurisdiction, Highness.”

“They are a bloody nuisance.” The civilized veneer slipped slightly as Tibor's frustration showed. “As you know, the Loup Garou have the body of a wolf, but the fangs and bloodlust of a vampire. They are also possessed of magical powers akin to those of a warlock. Several centuries ago, a breakaway group decided they wished to be classed as vampires, not wolves. After lengthy negotiations, I ceded them this island, now known simply as Garou. In recent years their descendants have decided they no longer wish to accept my authority.”

“I suspect they will come to regret their defiance.”

Tibor's smile was enough to give a grown man nightmares. “Your suspicions will be proved correct. Unfortunately, that will not happen in time for the completion of your journey.” He traced a route between the island of Garou and a larger body of land with his fingertip. “This the Wallachia Channel. You will be forced to traverse it in order to reach the open seas. The Loup Garou have been known to cause problems for travelers along this passage.”

“Thank you for the warning, Highness.”

Tibor bowed over Tanzi's hand once more. “Remember what I said, Princess.”

“What
did
he say?” Lorcan demanded as soon as the dinghy was skimming across the bay and they were safe from prying ears. He cringed at his own neediness.
I sound like a jealous teenager whose prom date has just danced with another guy.
The large flashlight he had placed in the bottom of the small craft lit up Tanzi's face. Her expression was serene, and her long hair blew out behind her like a streamer.

“That he still wanted to marry me. He made me promise to answer him next time I saw him.”

“I see.” He bent over the engine, pretending it needed his attention. Anything rather than let her see the hurt in his eyes.

“No you don't.” Tanzi caught hold of his arm, forcing him to look at her. “Don't you dare be all agonized and noble about this, Lorcan. How could you possibly think I would say that to Tibor and
mean
it? I said it to buy us time, to get our safe passage. For God's sake, we both know I'm never going to see Tibor again.”

“I'm sorry.” He placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “I just can't bear the thought of that leech putting his hands anywhere near you.”

“He didn't touch me. Well, only to kiss my hand once or twice. Although—” she cast him a sidelong glance “—he couldn't hide his fangs.”

The corners of his mouth turned down in a brief expression of disgust. “The vampire equivalent of a raging hard-on. Fucking pervert.” He turned away, watching the sleek, white outline of
Igraine
loom closer in the darkness. Drawing a breath, he asked the question that had been bothering him all night. “Although...is Tibor such a poor deal? Wouldn't marriage to him be preferable to life as a Valkyrie?”

She didn't answer and he wondered if she'd heard him. When he turned to face her, she was looking away so he was unable to read her expression. When she finally did speak, her voice was low. “I don't love Tibor.”

“I thought you couldn't feel love?”

She shifted position so that her face was turned up toward his. It made no difference. He still couldn't tell what she was thinking.

“Turns out I was wrong about that.”

* * *

Lorcan viewed the Wallachia Channel with misgivings. Although the entrance to the passage was wide, he could see far enough along its route to observe how it rapidly narrowed. High cliffs rose like sheer walls on each side so that it looked as if he would be able to lean over
Igraine
's side and touch the rocky surface as they passed. Although the water out here in the open was calm, within the strait it churned wildly like the inside of a washing machine. He might as well don a blindfold and take the boat into a cave. He had no idea what might be waiting for them around each twist and turn of the tight channel.

“Can't we sail around the island of Garou?” Tanzi came to stand beside him.

“I checked the charts again this morning. Tibor is right. To get to the open seas to Spae, we must navigate this channel. All around the coastline of Garou there are hidden and treacherous rocks. They'd rip
Igraine
's belly out if we risked it.”

“I don't understand why we must actually go to Spae. I thought that was a story you thought up on the spur of the moment to tell Tibor?”

“It was, but do you seriously think he won't check up on us?” He gave Tanzi a moment to assimilate the question and shake her head. “Besides, the Spae are the very people to help us with the rest of our route.”

And with my search for the true King of the Faeries.
With any luck, they would tell him King Ivo's mystery descendant had never existed or was dead. That way he could forget this needle-in-a-haystack quest of Cal's and shake off the feeling that he was betraying Tanzi's trust.

“Have you met with the Spae before?” Tanzi looked surprised. “I thought they were an insular race.”

“They are.” He hoped she wouldn't notice the way he avoided the question. All the other times he'd been to Spae, his approach had been a damn sight easier than this. He'd taken the direct route straight through a portal from the mortal realm to the Isle of Spae. He viewed the channel again. Was he really going to take them in there with no idea of the depth of the water, the wind speed or what hazards lay in wait for them? His stomach tightened with a combination of nerves and excitement. “Grab yourself a life jacket,
Searc
, this is going to be a white-knuckle ride.”

Lorcan approached the channel slowly, maneuvering
Igraine
into the entrance with care. The boat met the harsh slap of the first waves valiantly as he guided it between the looming rocky walls. From his experiences in the fishing boats as a boy, he knew there was a difference between this and meeting steep waves out in the open. Even the most minor miscalculation on his part could send
Igraine
crashing into the cliffs. Once they had entered the passage there was no turning back.

“Okay?” He had to shout to Tanzi to be heard above the rush of sound all around them, and she nodded, clinging to the back of the seat, her face strained as she stared ahead at the roiling waters. The waves slapped the boat's sides and the channel acted as a funnel for the wind, driving the spray into their faces and robbing them of their breath.
Igraine
mounted each wave, running down the crest and gathering speed as she prepared to meet the back side of the next wave. Burying her bow in the oncoming wave, she was slewed hard by the resistance of the wall of water and would have veered sharply off toward the cliffs if Lorcan had not maintained an iron grip on the wheel. The deeper into the channel they went, the more of his strength it took to keep them on a straight course.

Tanzi's hand grasped his arm hard. Although her lips moved, any sound she made was whipped away by the wind. She pointed up at the cliffs ahead of them. Half closing his eyes against the spray, he followed the line of her finger. Dark shapes were crouched on rocky outcrops that hung low over the water. The Loup Garou were watching their progress. Could this day get any worse?

It seemed it could. As they drew level with the first of the Loup Garou, the wolflike figure swung himself down from the rock, landing easily on the deck.

“You've done this before, haven't you, big guy?” Lorcan asked, observing the way the loup's body rolled easily with the motion of the boat. Fangs the thickness of Tanzi's wrist flashed in something close to a grin. Not wanting to worry Tanzi unduly, Lorcan weighed up the situation. The Loup Garou were undead, meaning he could control them. But in order to do so he would need to concentrate solely on them. Not an easy task while he was trying to stop the waves from battering
Igraine
against the rocks. As these thoughts were passing through his mind, another of the Loup Garou dropped onto the deck.

“You keep hold of the wheel. I'll take care of these two.” Tanzi had to press her lips up against his ear to be heard. Then she was away, doing what she did so well. Gripping the mast for added leverage, she swung both feet off the ground, catching the first loup firmly under the chin. Staggering back, he looked mildly surprised, but didn't go down. Instead, his wolfish smile deepened as he beckoned Tanzi closer.

“Bring it on, little girl.” His growl was loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “You want to play rough? We like it rough.”

“Tanzi, get back over here!”

Whether she didn't hear him or chose to ignore him, Lorcan didn't know. He muttered a curse—several curses—as Tanzi clambered onto the back of the bench seat and launched herself at the grinning loup. He knew what her tactics would be. Eyes and balls. Street fighter tactics. By the way the loup was reeling back, she'd managed to implement part one of the plan and, clinging to him like a limpet, was already gouging at his eyes. Would she have time to get him down and kick him in the balls before his companion got to her? Lorcan's nerves were strained to the point of breaking as he tried to watch what was going on while at the same time steer the boat through the ever-narrowing channel. Despite his annoyance at her determination to place herself at risk, he felt a fierce sense of pride. God, she was amazing. His little warrior princess was bringing that huge wolf to his knees. Sure enough, her foot connected solidly with the loup's groin. Lorcan gave a wince of male solidarity, even as he applauded Tanzi's strategy. The loup collapsed in a groaning heap on the deck. From his posture and the way he was clutching between his legs, he wouldn't be getting up again anytime soon.