Refuge (7 page)

The hellhounds were not the only things on my
mind. My power was going haywire all of a sudden, and I had no idea
why or what to do about it. Just this morning, I was soaking in the
healing baths after training when my scalp began to tingle and
static crackled in my hair. I could have sworn I saw tiny sparkles
of light in the cloudy water. Fear drove me from the bath before my
time was up, and I’d cast a furtive glance at Olivia who lay with
her eyes closed in her own tub. But the other girl had shown no
signs of noticing anything out of the ordinary. How long could I
hide this before someone saw it and started asking questions I
couldn’t answer?

“Sara.”

I turned to find Claire hurrying toward me.
Judging by her amused expression she had called to me several
times. “Hi, Claire. What’s up?”

She returned my smile. “I thought you would
have forgotten my name with all the new faces around you. How are
you settling in?”

“Great.”

Claire laughed at my unconvincing tone. “Give
it another week or so. All orphans have an adjustment period. It
took me almost a month to even speak to anyone.”

“You were an orphan?” It was hard to think of
cheerful, outgoing Claire as a shy orphan. “How long have you been
here?”

She put a hand to her chin. “I think it’s
been eighty years. You lose track after a while. I was four when
Tristan found me.”

“Lord Tristan?”

“Yes. It was during the Great Depression,”
she said as we walked together. “He found me at an orphanage in
Boston. I have vague memories of my mother, but I don’t remember
what happened to her. The people at the orphanage told Tristan they
were overflowing with abandoned children whose parents could not
feed them anymore. Tristan
adopted
me and set up a monthly stipend to help the
orphanage. I think he did that for a lot of orphanages at the
time.”

The last two weeks, I’d resented the absent
leader who had enforced so many restrictions on me. Hearing
Claire’s story about how generous Tristan was improved my opinion
of him.

“Speaking of Tristan, he’d like to see you in
his office. I’ll show you where it is.”

Lord Tristan wanted to see me? Maybe after my
awful training session yesterday he had decided I wasn’t cut out to
be a warrior after all. Or maybe the incident with the hellhounds
had made him question the wisdom of having me here.

Claire led me to the first floor of the south
wing and stopped in front of a closed door. “He’s waiting for you.
Go on in,” she said and left me alone in the hallway.

I couldn’t just walk in, so I knocked on the
door and waited for it to open. Lord Tristan’s blue eyes were
surprisingly warm and his smile welcoming when he saw me standing
there. He opened the door wider and waved me inside. “Sara, come
in.”

His office was impressive. One side was taken
up by the usual office furniture: desk, chairs, filing cabinets,
and a computer. On the other side of the room was a sitting area
with a couch, a chair, and several small tables. Large windows
overlooked the front lawn.

He shut the door and surprised me again by
leading me to the sitting area instead of going to sit behind his
desk. I took a seat on the couch, and he sat in the chair.

“I’m sorry it has taken me this long to meet
you. I wanted to be here when you arrived, but Council business
kept me abroad these last few weeks.”

“I understand,” I told him, but I really
didn’t get why an important man like him with so many
responsibilities would bother to explain his whereabouts to me.

“Tell me, how are you doing since you moved
here?”

I made a face. “You really need to ask that
after watching my training yesterday? I’m not exactly good warrior
material.”

His laugh was rich and warm instead of
mocking. “I think it will take more than a few weeks to determine
what kind of warrior you will be. From what I have heard, you have
other very special qualities to commend you.” I gave him a
questioning look, and he said, “Nikolas told me about your unique
heritage. Do not worry; your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you.”

“Training aside, how do you like it here? Are
your quarters to your liking? Have you made friends?”

His questions caught me off guard. Why would
he care if I liked my room or made friends? Besides I had no doubt
that he already knew everything there was to know about my first
two weeks here.

“You want the truth?”

“Of course.”

“This place is amazing, but I don’t fit in
here. I hope that doesn’t sound ungrateful because I really do
appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I know why I have to
be here. I just . . . I miss home.” My throat tightened, and I
looked away from him. My eyes found an oil portrait of a beautiful
blond girl on the wall behind his chair. Her hair was the same
shade as his, and I knew they had to be related.

Lord Tristan’s blue eyes filled with
understanding. “The transition to this life can be difficult for
orphans, and I think we assumed it would be easier for you, given
your age. We did not take into account the strong ties you have to
your old life. All I can say is that it will get easier and you
will find your place with us. I hope you will trust me in
that.”

I wanted to believe him, but I’d been burned
once already. “The last person I trusted dumped me on your doorstep
and took off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I was under the
impression that you and Nikolas couldn’t spend ten minutes together
without needing a referee. Perhaps you both needed some space.”

“You mean he was glad to get me off his
hands.”

He laughed. “I doubt that. Nikolas plays by
his own set of rules. Don’t read too much into him not being here
right now. When he is hunting, he often spends weeks away at a
time.”

“Busy guy. From one job right into another.”
I smiled even though I did not feel like it. “If you don’t mind,
I’d rather not talk about him.”

Lord Tristan nodded. “I understand. I did
have another reason for asking you here today. Nikolas told me you
might be open to meeting your Mohiri family once you feel
comfortable among us. I wanted you to know they are very eager to
get to know you – when you are ready, of course.”

“They’re here? I have family here . . . now?”
His news floored me. I had been living under the same roof with
family for almost two weeks without knowing it? Had I passed them
in the halls? Sat near them at meals? They could be one of the
other trainees or even my trainer. I crossed off that last thought.
After everything I’d been through, there was no way God would be
cruel enough to make Callum my family.

His face gave nothing away as he nodded. “You
have a cousin who lives here, but he is away at the moment. And
your mother’s sire is here. You would call him your
grandfather.”

“My grandfather is here?” When Nikolas told
me that Madeline’s father was still alive and wanted to meet me, I
was curious but nowhere near ready to meet him. The knowledge that
my grandfather was at this stronghold right now filled me with
trepidation and excitement at the same time.

“Would you like to meet him?” Lord Tristan
asked.

My stomach twisted nervously. Was I ready to
meet Madeline’s father? The man wasn’t Madeline and I could not
hold her behavior against him, but was I ready to have him in my
life? “No . . . I mean, I don’t know. I’m sorry, you took me by
surprise and it’s a lot to take in.”

He settled back in his chair. “It’s
understandable. This is a big adjustment for you and you need more
time. He only wants you to know that he is here for you when you
are ready to meet him.”

I lowered my gaze as guilt hit me. Great. Now
I felt like a total jerk. My grandfather sounded like a nice guy,
and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. It wouldn’t hurt to just
meet him, right? It wasn’t like we had to start having family
dinners and all that. And how could I walk around here after this,
knowing he was here and not be able to identify him?

“I’m ready,” I said at last.

“Are you sure?”

I raised my eyes to his again and nodded.
“I’m a little nervous, but yes.”

Smiling, he stood and went to his desk.
Instead of reaching for his phone as I had expected him to, he
opened a drawer and pulled out a thin book. It wasn’t until he
returned to the sitting area that I saw it was not a book, but a
photo album. He passed the chair and sat beside me on the couch. I
looked up into his eyes, and the tenderness I saw in them punched
me square in the chest.

“You have been through so much, and I can see
how unhappy you are right now. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for
all the pain you’ve suffered. More than anything, I wish I could
have been there for you all these years. Nikolas told me about your
uncle and how much you care for each other, and I’m happy that you
have someone like him in your life. I don’t want to replace him.
All I ask is the chance to get to know you and that you will come
to think of me as family, too.”

I struggled for words. What do you say when
you find yourself face-to-face with a grandfather you never knew?
Especially one who looks like he should be in college. “You’re
Madeline’s father,” was all I could manage.

His eyes grew sad. Nikolas hadn’t told me
much about Madeline or under what circumstances she had left the
Mohiri, and I wondered what her relationship had been like with her
father.

“I know Madeline hurt you deeply. My daughter
has a lot to answer for when we find her.” He reached for my hand,
and I let him take it despite my conflicting emotions. “When I
learned of your existence, it took everything in me not to go to
Maine myself. But Nikolas advised against it. He told me about your
anger toward Madeline and your refusal to have anything to do with
us. With everything else that was going on at the time, he was
concerned about overwhelming you.”

I let out a tremulous laugh. “He was right. I
kind of freaked out when he told me what I was. I’m still getting
used to it all.”

He squeezed my hand lightly. “All I ask is
for the chance for us to get to know each other.”

The hope shining in his eyes touched me, and
I suddenly felt very shy. I nodded because I couldn’t trust myself
to speak.

He let go of my hand, but he didn’t move
away. “Why don’t we start slowly by getting to know each other a
little better? Nikolas told me what he could of your life, but I
would rather hear about it from you. I’m sure you must have
questions for me as well.”

“Okay. Um, what should I call you?”

“We don’t use most of the familial terms
humans do, so you can call me Tristan.”

“Not Lord?”

His smile grew. “That is my formal title, but
everyone here calls me by my first name.”

I returned his smile, feeling a little more
at ease. “I have to tell you it feels very weird to have a
grandfather who looks a few years older than me.”

Tristan chuckled. “I can imagine.” He settled
back against the couch. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, if
you want to, that is?”

I started with my early childhood. Tristan’s
smile faded when I spoke of Madeline leaving us when I was two, but
it returned when I described my dad and recounted the many ways he
had made my life so full and happy. I told him about my dad’s love
of books and his penchant for creating games to encourage my
interest in reading and music and poetry.

When I talked about losing my dad, Tristan
waited quietly while I struggled to get through it. I told him
about my life in New Hastings with Nate and my friends – human and
nonhuman. I made sure he understood that my life there had not been
an unhappy one and that it had taken a Master to drive me from my
home.

Tristan began to talk about himself then, and
I was shocked to learn he was born in sixteen eighty-four. He told
me about growing up in England with his parents and older sister,
Beatrice, training to be a warrior and then travelling around
Europe and living at various strongholds. I discovered that he had
been to almost every corner of the earth, he was the youngest
member to ever join the Council at the ripe old age of thirty, and
he spoke fourteen different languages, including a few words of
Troll. He met my grandmother, Josephine, in Paris in eighteen
sixty-one, and she moved back to America with him.

When I asked him where Josephine was, he grew
quiet before he told me she was killed during a raid on a vampire
nest in southern California in nineteen thirteen. Their scouts had
misjudged the size of the nest, and when Josephine’s team of six
went in, they were overwhelmed and only one of them made it
out.

“It was a very dark time for me, and I might
have done something reckless and gotten myself killed if it were
not for Madeline. She was only ten, and I could not leave her
without a parent. Nikolas took a team and wiped out the nest. He
avenged Josephine for me because I could not leave my daughter, and
he brought her body home to us.”

“People here talk about Nikolas like he is
some kind of superhero, but they seem almost scared of him,
too.”

“But you are not?”

I couldn’t deny how good a warrior Nikolas
was, having seen him in action more than once. “He is pretty good,
but don’t tell him I said that because he’s arrogant enough
already. He’s way too bossy, but there’s nothing scary about
him.”

“Our young people grow up hearing stories
about Nikolas’s missions and his fighting skills, so it’s natural
they look up to him. He is a fierce warrior, and there are few who
could stand up to him when he sets his mind on something.”

“No kidding. Been there, got the
T-shirt.”

Tristan laughed heartily. “In the short time
I’ve known you I can already see why you were such a challenge for
him. You seem to have a very strong sense of self and a quick mind.
And you are not easily intimidated.”