In the Dark (5 page)

Humor flashed in
Sebastian’s eyes a moment and was gone.

“What?”
I asked.

“I know
how he felt.”

“What does
that mean?”

“It means
he probably had troubles he did not wish to share with you.”

“So you
think he kept secrets from me.” I bit my lip. I thought so too.
Just not like this.

Sebastian’s
face didn’t change. “I think you cannot tell me who this
might be.”

My heart sank.
“So you can’t help me?”

“I can.
You’re still a witness. You can still point me in the right
direction.” He sat back a bit, away from me. I didn’t
notice I had tensed up until he moved away from me and I relaxed.

“So you
want a description?”

“That
would be an appropriate beginning, yes.”

“I saw a
woman,” I said. “Right before I found the puddle. She had
silver eyes, and long blond hair. My height, I think, kinda skinny.”
The picture in my head made me shiver. I could still see her –
and that poisonous grin.

“That
doesn’t give me much. You saw her, though?”

I nodded.

“How well
did you see her? Would you recognize her if you saw her again?”

“I’d
know her in a heartbeat.”

Sebastian did
that smiling-without-smiling thing again, where his eyes just
glinted.

“That
might be a problem, as we have no heartbeats,” he told me,
voice flat. I thought he meant it as a joke. I didn’t laugh.

“Thank
you,” he said, and stood.

“That’s
it?”

His eyebrows
flicked up in a kind of nod. “As I said, it would be safest for
you to remain here for the time being. Whoever killed Kent may come
after you. Perhaps not, but I would not take that chance.”

“What are
you going to do about all this?” I asked in a thick voice.

“Stop her.
I thought we had established that.”

“How are
you going to stop her? Throw her in jail?”

He met my eyes
with an icy stare I did not like. He’d made me nervous up until
now. Now he scared me.

“I will
find this woman,” he said, “and I will kill her. By
committing murder against one of our kind she has forfeited her
life.”

It would have
had the same effect if he’d slapped me. I stared at him, mouth
falling open. He watched me, waiting for my next question.

I didn’t
want to know more. Not the details. Not how he thought he would do
this. I had a feeling he’d tell me, if I asked.

And still he
waited . . . not for me to ask anything, I realized with a chill.
Waiting for me to decide. He wouldn’t go through with anything
if I didn’t want him to.

I opened my
mouth to say no, to tell Sebastian to back off. No sound came out. I
tried to say it again, but I found myself closing my mouth. I
couldn’t tell him I didn’t want his help.

“You may
leave,” he said off-handedly. “This matter does not
involve me unless you wish it to.”

Telling me I
could still change my mind. I didn’t answer. He scared me. And
I still wouldn’t open my mouth and tell him to back out.

I must have
pulled in tighter on myself, because he looked at me again. Cocked an
eyebrow. I shifted in the chair, trying to be small. He kept looking
at me with that blank face, thinking at me, thinking –

He thinks I’m
smart to be afraid of him.

A cold shiver
went up my spine. I didn’t know that, how could I? It was only
a guess. But it felt like such a good guess.

He looked away.
“Make yourself comfortable if you like. If not, the elevator
will take you to the first floor.”

And he walked
out, his boots thunking away down a hall. I heard a door open and
shut. Then nothing. He’d left me all alone. I couldn’t
even hear Seattle from this side of the thick windows.

How could all
this happen in a few hours?

What am I
going to do?

Nobody answered.

D
espite
her fear, she did not leave. She was smart enough to fear him and
smart enough to know she had little choice if she wanted help.
Sebastian had been nothing but honest with her: he intended only to
help her because her situation interested him. She, however, had no
way of knowing that. He could tell it bothered her.

Sebastian sat
cross-legged on his bed, in the innermost room in the penthouse. No
windows. No way to sneak in while he slumbered, no way to expose him
to sunlight. He listened as the girl walked around his home,
examining things. He could just hear the hiss of her fingers sliding
over various objects if he listened hard enough. She touched, but
left things lie.

He had had very
few people in his home, vampire or mortal. He wanted to ask her what
she thought, what she made of him from what she saw – he knew
she lacked the training to pick up information about him from his
home. She would gain some clues, of course, but not what he would in
her place.

The whisper of
skin on metal told him she’d found a blade – probably the
one he carried on him. The smaller one-handed sword hung in plain
sight. She ran her fingers along the metal, letting out a brief gasp.
He kept the blade sharp. She had likely cut herself. Sebastian
continued listening. Whatever wound she had acquired would heal.

Ian moved on,
coming down the hall toward the bedrooms. He tensed momentarily,
though he had locked and barred his door securely.

A doorknob
rattled gently, then turned with a soft squeak. A room further down
from his. One of the guest rooms he had never thought he’d use.
The door creaked open. He heard her feet pad in and the door close
behind her. Sebastian strained his ears to hear beyond both doors, to
trace her footsteps across the floor. She stretched out on the bed,
springs squeaking. Her boots thumped to the floor. In a moment he
heard the sharp breathing that meant she had begun crying again.

How long would
that go on? he wondered with minor irritation. Hours? Days?

How long has
it gone on . . . ?

As quickly as it
had formed the irritation vanished. She had every right to her grief.

He listened
carefully until her sharp breaths slowed and finally stopped. Once he
was certain she had cried herself to sleep, he stretched out, closed
his eyes, and slept himself.

A
voice floated into my dreams. A woman, far away. Or maybe just very
quiet. She sounded upset. I rolled over in bed, half-asleep. No
woman. Just a dream.

The woman
drifted back into my dream. “Sebastian, I don’t know what
to do, Evan hasn’t been home in two days . . .”

My dream changed
to focus on her. I found myself standing beside her while she fought
tears, facing Sebastian’s chill expression. My name was Emily.
I lived with Josephine and Evan, loved them both very much. I missed
Evan. He’d been gone for too long and this solid stone man that
Josephine had said would help just looked at us, like we didn’t
matter.

My eyes opened,
lying in Sebastian’s dusty, untouched guest room. Very real
tears wet my cheeks. The dream feeling of loss and sadness seemed to
follow me into the waking world, so close that I nearly cried again.
I scrubbed at my face with one hand, turning my fingers red.

I rolled off the
bed – stopped as an ache went through my neck. I slapped my
hand to it with a groan. The muscle under my skin had turned into a
hard knot. I looked behind me on the bed and saw one of the hair
needles I used to hold my bun lying on my pillow. I gave it a dirty
look.

Massaging my
neck, I turned back away from the bed – a clean set of clothes
sat folded on the armchair. Men’s jeans and a button-up shirt
like the one Sebastian had on last night. Apparently, he’d
slipped in before I woke up. I tried to feel paranoid and uneasy
about that, but gratitude for fresh clothes won out. It didn’t
take me long to change. His clothes were big on me, but nothing fell
off when I walked. After running my fingers through my long black
hair to straighten it, I left the room.

The sound of a
real woman’s voice down the hall made me pause. The voice
sounded just like the one in my dream.

I must have
heard her talking and made up the dream about me being there. I
decided to chance being an intruder and crept into the living room.

Two women stood
in front of Sebastian. I jumped when I saw them. One speaking, the
other standing beside her, watching Sebastian nervously. They both
looked at me as I came in.

The talker was
petite and beautiful. She looked around thirty, with long auburn hair
artfully framing a dainty pixy face. Her eyes looked blood-shot,
except the blood dripped out of them.

My eyebrows
twitched up. Another vampire? How many others were there?

I glanced at the
woman behind her, also small, this time with gold waves and rich
brown eyes I could have lost myself in. She was beautiful, too,
square face, full lips, long lashes . . . crying. With the watery
tears of a human.

I stepped
backwards while my eyes widened. Human? What about hiding, never
reveal yourself?

Sebastian must
have heard me come in. He waved a hand in my direction without
turning. “Josephine, this is Ian,” he said to the
red-headed woman. “Kent’s get.”

Josephine?
That startled me for a second.
Someone must have said her name,
and I heard it in my sleep. I bet the other one’s name is
Emily.
With that explained to my satisfaction, the other thing
Sebastian said caught up with me.

“Kent’s
what?” I asked.

“Daughter,”
Sebastian said.

This night had
more surprises than I knew what to do with. Now I was Kent’s
daughter? Kent had never called me that – not without teasing,
anyway.

“Hello,”
the woman with the red hair said. She had a voice like silk, even
choked with tears.

“Hi,”
I said. Her attention made me suddenly conscious that I had on jeans
two sizes too big for me and a man’s button up shirt, barefoot.
I didn’t feel too much better when she gave me a small smile
and turned back to Sebastian. I shoved my hands in my pockets and
stood off to the side like an awkward teenager at a family reunion.

The blond woman
smiled at me. More of a sympathetic, “we’re in this
together” sort of smile, supportive and a little friendly. I
smiled back, hoping she might talk to me or give me the opportunity
to talk to her.

“. . .
Ian,” Sebastian said. I jerked my eyes away from the blond
woman to look at him. He had his back to me, facing Josephine.
Talking about me, not to me. “I don’t see what I can do
beyond that,” he finished.

Josephine’s
delicate hands clutched at her sleeves. “I don’t know who
else to turn to. And now you tell me Kent’s dead, as well. Why
won’t you help me?”

He had refused
to help her? I frowned and paid closer attention to the conversation.

“As I
said, I am looking into this matter for Ian,” Sebastian said.
“That will have to do.”

I didn’t
want to be his scapegoat!

Josephine’s
bottom lip trembled as fresh red tears escaped her eyes. The blond
woman put her hands over her face.

“Can’t
you at least keep her posted?” I asked.

Sebastian gave
me a dark look.

“I have
made my decision.” His voice was steel. “Josephine, if
you don’t mind, I have work to do. Good night.”

My mouth dropped
open. Sebastian turned on his heel and left, stalking back down the
hallway. Josephine watched after him, then squeezed her eyes shut.

“Look.”
I closed the distance between Josephine and me. “I don’t
know what his problem is. If you want, I can let you know what’s
happening at the very least. Would that help?”

It startled her
for a second. Then her expression changed and I though she might kiss
me. Not that I would have minded.

“Oh, would
you? I didn’t know who else to ask for help, and when I told
him about Evan he said Kent was gone as well, and I just – oh.”
She reached a hand out for me, eyes gone wet again. Mine had too.
“Oh, no. Kent. I’m so sorry, Ian. I’m sorry.”

I nodded and
looked at the floor, letting her take and hold my hand. “I’m
sorry about Evan,” I managed. It seemed like the thing to say.

“Kent was
a wonderful man,” Josephine said, still squeezing my hand.

I looked up.
“You knew him?”

She nodded. “We
met sometimes, to sit and talk. I don’t suppose he would have
mentioned me. He always said he hated watching the young ones get
rushed into things. He didn’t want to introduce us for a while
yet.”

“Oh.”
The young ones? How many of us were there?

“I really
think we’re making Sebastian terribly uncomfortable,” she
went on when I didn’t say anything else. “Let me give you
my number, and we’ll go.”

When I realized
again that I didn’t have my cell phone with me, we found a pen
and some paper – or rather she did – and she jotted down
something from the Seattle area.

“In case
you need anything,” Josephine added as she pressed the number
into my hand. I tucked it into my pocket with a mumbled thanks. Maybe
later I’d have to pick her brains about Kent.

Josephine
squeezed my hand once more, then headed for the elevator. The mortal
woman followed without being asked. I walked them over to it, only
partly aware I should see them out. The blond gave me a shy, sad
smile. I tried to return it. When the doors closed, leaving me alone
in the quiet of the penthouse, I broke down in fresh tears.

With my back
against the elevator doors, I slid down to hit the floor with a bump.
Oh, Kent. I hid in my crossed arms and sobbed until my face ached
with the effort, and kept sobbing. My heart hurt. I hurt all over.