Secrets in the Shadows (2 page)

Jules tumbled to the floor once more. He refused to meet anyone’s eyes. He couldn’t have screwed this up any worse if he’d tried.

“Meeting adjourned,” Eli said. “For everyone but Jules. We’ll reschedule for tomorrow.”

No one said a word as the Guardians filed out of the room. Jules kept his eyes fixed on the fleur-de-lis pattern of the rug, not wanting to see the various pitying or maliciously smug expressions he assumed were being tossed his way. He recognized Gray’s ratty sneakers coming his way, and he recognized Carolyn’s sensible pumps as she headed him off. He was going to have to apologize to her, though how he’d manage it with Gray around was anyone’s guess.

But he was getting ahead of himself. First, he had to survive this little tęte-ŕ-tęte with Eli.

The door to the meeting hall closed with a solid thunk, and Jules forced his gaze up. The look on Eli’s face was not promising.

The Founder’s physical age appeared to be around sixty. Of only medium height and a little on the thin side, he cultivated a harmless-old-man look. But no one could look at those deep, stormy eyes of his and think he was harmless. Jules shivered. The room always seemed to grow cold when Eli was angry, and he was mad as hell at the moment.

“We’ve discussed your temper before, Jules,” he said, his voice deceptively mild while his eyes blazed and the temperature continued to drop.

Jules had always thought the chill that accompanied Eli’s anger was a trick of the mind—until he saw his frosty breath in the air. Marde! Just how angry was the Founder, anyway? Jules swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t about to die, though probably if Eli were going to kill him he’d have done it already.

Well, if he was about to face his death, he wouldn’t do it on his knees. Jules forced himself to his feet, his back still aching from the impact with the wall. “I’m sorry, Eli.” He almost snorted at his own pathetic words.

“If I’d known you were going to make such an ass of yourself, I would have called you in here last week the moment I saw that article in the paper. Foolish optimist that I am, I thought you’d gained a measure of maturity.”

Eli’s criticism stung. But worse was knowing he deserved it. He was almost a hundred and ten years old—you’d think he’d have learned more self-control by now. But seeing Ian’s face in the paper—so soon after he’d lost Luc—had dug up issues he couldn’t seem to rebury.

“I have no maturity where Ian is concerned,” he admitted. “You don’t know what he did to me.”

“Yes, I do.”

Jules shook his head, but didn’t bother to argue. Yes, he’d told Eli some of the story, told him how Ian had once been his closest friend and then betrayed and bitten him. But he hadn’t come close to telling it all.

“Come sit down,” Eli said.

Jules noticed with relief that the room was warming again. He took a seat on the sofa nearest Eli’s chair and waited for the lecture. But Eli just stared at him with those knowing, piercing eyes of his until Jules squirmed.

“You’re at a very dangerous time of your life, my friend,” Eli said with surprising gentleness. “Many vampires have … strong reactions when the last of the people they knew as mortals die. It can cause something of a vampire mid-life crisis, as it were.”

Jules couldn’t help a little bark of laughter. “Should I go out and buy a red sports car?”

The corners of Eli’s eyes crinkled slightly. “The red might clash with your hair. I’d advise black.”

This time the laugh came more naturally. That Eli would tease him about his vanity relieved him to no end. Yes, he’d fucked up tonight. But Eli could forgive him for it.

“Mortals in mid-life crisis can do stupid things,” Eli continued, “like destroying their marriages by looking for something better. Something that doesn’t exist.”

“And what kind of stupid things do vampires do?”

“Indulge in pointless revenge quests. Alienate the only friends they have by behaving like assholes. The worst of them can go rogue and start killing, but I know you wouldn’t do that.”

Jules winced, remembering how mindless he’d been in his rage. He’d hit Carolyn, for Christ’s sake! He couldn’t stand Gray, but he liked Carolyn. Not that he’d done it on purpose, but if he’d been in his right mind it never would have happened. He glanced at Eli.

“Why didn’t you stop me when I went after Drake?” Keeping the Guardians from fighting with each other was usually part of Eli’s job description. Vampires tended to grate on each others’ nerves on some primal level, which made cooperation something of a challenge. If it weren’t for Eli, the Guardians would have gone their separate ways—or killed each other—long ago.

“I wanted to see if you would stop yourself. You can’t always rely on me to control your temper for you.”

Jules forced a deep breath. He couldn’t deny that Eli had a point. “I still don’t understand why you won’t send a task force to Baltimore. I understand why you won’t send me, but—”

“Why Baltimore?”

Jules blinked in confusion. “Uh, because Ian is there, killing people, and we’re supposedly dedicated to stopping people like him.”

Eli shrugged. “Why not New York, then? I guarantee you there are killers in New York. It’s far too good a hiding place for killers not to take advantage of it. I’m sure there’s a bigger population there than in Baltimore. Or what about D.C.? Boston?” He shook his head. “There are too few of us. If we start taking on the world, we’ll be destroyed.”

“I’m not asking you to take on the world! Just Baltimore.”

“Just so you can personally get your revenge. It’s not a good enough reason, especially when the circumstances are so suspicious. It’s not impossible for other vampires to band together against us, especially if they institute a divide-and-conquer strategy.” He shook his head once more. “No, Jules. I can’t risk it. I’m sorry.”

Jules felt his temper rising again and ruthlessly tamped it back down. This was obviously an argument he couldn’t win.

He didn’t know how he was going to swallow the bitter pill of Ian alive and well and killing in Baltimore. But somehow he was going to have to. Because only the worst kind of idiot would defy Eli’s direct orders and single-handedly take on a mature Killer on his home turf.

At three o’clock in the morning, Jules decided it was pointless to lie to himself any longer. Whatever had awakened inside him when he’d first seen Ian’s picture in the paper was not about to go back to sleep. No matter what Eli ordered.

He sighed heavily as he folded a cashmere sweater into his suitcase. Eli did not tolerate rebellion. At the turn of the last century, he’d let a Guardian leave the organization. A century of living outside Eli’s calming influence had turned Archer Montgomery, a former Guardian, into the Broad Street Banger. Eli wouldn’t chance something like that happening again. If Jules made it out of Philly alive, he knew he could never come back.

The thought of never coming back made Jules’s throat ache, and he cursed Ian for the millionth time for so thoroughly destroying his life. He was giving up everything that made his immortal life feel worthwhile by defying Eli’s orders. And yet, he had enough self-awareness to realize he had no choice. Tonight’s explosion of temper wasn’t his first, and it wouldn’t be his last, as long as Ian lived. He’d rather damn himself in his quest for vengeance than risk killing one of his fellow Guardians in a fit of rage. Only Eli and Drake were powerful enough to subdue him if his control lapsed again, and he couldn’t count on them being there next time it did.

Jules closed his bulging suitcase and yanked on the zipper, practically pulling it off in his agitation. He got down on his hands and knees and pulled another suitcase out from under his bed. If he was never coming back, he might as well take as much luggage as he could carry.

The doorbell rang just as he stood up with the second suitcase in hand. He started. Had Eli guessed his intentions and sent a party of Guardians to stop him—which would likely mean a death sentence?

No, he thought as he slowly descended the narrow staircase to the first floor of his house. Eli was capable of ruthlessness when necessary, but it was a subtle ruthlessness. For instance, everyone knew he’d killed Tim Carter, a Guardian who’d rebelled against him during the Banger case last year. But Eli had never said a word about it to anyone. It was as if Carter had never existed. Jules had nerved himself up to ask Eli about it once, but the Founder’s only answer had been a long, silent stare.

Jules reached out with his senses as he approached the door and discovered that as he’d expected, there was no party of vampires on his doorstep. All he sensed was a single mortal presence. His brows drew together as he leaned toward the peephole. What mortal would be coming to his house at three in the morning?

“Come on, Jules, open up already. It’s cold out here.”

Standing on his doorstep was the last person he’d expect to see at a time like this. He threw the door open and stood aside to let Carolyn come in out of the cold. A brief psychic survey reassured him that Gray wasn’t lurking nearby.

“Brr,” Carolyn said, tucking her hands under her arms and hunching in on herself. She wore a warm-looking—if not particularly flattering—puffy coat, but no hat and no scarf and no gloves. No wonder she was cold.

She turned to face him in his foyer. The cold had reddened her cheeks and chapped her lips, but what caught his eye and made guilt kick him in the gut was the bruise darkening on her chin.

He forced himself to meet her eyes. “I’m very sorry about what happened,” he said, wincing involuntarily as he remembered the feel of his elbow making contact. “I—”

She held up both hands. “Don’t worry about it. It was an accident.” She flashed him a rueful smile. “I was a cop for eight years. This is hardly the first bruise I’ve gotten in the line of duty.”

He grimaced and gestured her into the living room, wishing he could offer her something to drink to ward off the chill. But the only thing he had in the house was milk and blood, and he felt quite certain she wouldn’t want any of that.

Carolyn opened her coat, but didn’t take it off. Then, she sat on his butter-yellow leather sofa and looked up at him inquiringly. He was too edgy to want to sit, but he could hardly stand here looming over her, so he lowered himself onto an arm chair

“So, what brings you to this part of town?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Just coming to see if you were all right.”

“Me?” He wondered if there were anything she could have said that would have taken him aback more. “You’re the one with the battle scars.”

Her smile was warm and sweet. “I think yours are internal and harder to treat.” The smile faded and she leaned forward, peering at his face intently. “How’s your back?”

He stretched tentatively, but felt no twinge of lingering pain. Luckily for him, Eli hadn’t hit him hard enough to break anything, and bruises healed in a manner of minutes. “It’s fine.”

Her forehead furrowed. “What happened in there exactly?”

He wished he knew. “Eli’s one scary dude. Even I didn’t know he could do that.”

“Makes you wonder what else he can do that we don’t know about.”

“I suggest you don’t think about it. That’s what I’ve decided to do.”

She smiled faintly. “So, you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. Really. Thanks for caring enough to check on me. You’re a really nice person.” A lump formed in his throat. He had to shut up immediately, before he said something else that sounded suspiciously like a goodbye.

“You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you Jules?”

He hoped he managed to keep his expression bland and unconcerned. “You mean like take off for Baltimore?” He grinned at her, trying for his usual easy sarcasm, not at all sure he was pulling it off. “Only an idiot would do something like that.”

She pushed a lock of blonde hair out of her face. He could hear the crackle of static as she did, and when she took her hand away, several stray strands floated with their electrical charge. Amazing how she still managed to look so pretty with her cold-reddened skin, a bruise on her chin, and her hair standing on end. She was way too good for the likes of Gray James!

“So the question becomes, are you an idiot?”

Once again he forced himself to make eye contact. Her detective instincts would go on high alert if he didn’t. “No, I’m not an idiot,” he said, looking her straight in the eye and trying to sound a hundred percent certain. If Carolyn caught wind of his plan, she’d very likely rat him out before he could get out of town. She’d think it was for his own good, but she’d be wrong.

He couldn’t tell from the look on her face whether she believed him or not, but she seemed willing to let the subject drop. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said, rising to her feet and zipping her coat once more.

“I still don’t quite get why you’re here,” he said as he walked her to the door.

“I just wanted to let you know there were no hard feelings.”

“You should have hard feelings. I should never have let my temper get the better of me like that.”

She patted his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better,” she said with a wry grin, “Gray has enough hard feelings for both of us.”

“I’ll bet. Does he know you’re here?”

She laughed and opened the door, stepping out into the cold. “If you tell him, I’ll deny it to my dying day.” She reached out a hand. “Now let’s shake on the no-hard-feelings thing.”

Her contagious good humor momentarily lightened his heart. Instead of shaking her hand as she’d intended, he raised it to his lips and with exaggerated ceremony planted a courtly kiss on her knuckles. She rolled her eyes, extricating her hand from his.

“You’re a hopeless charmer, Jules,” she teased

He put his hand over his heart and bowed his head. “Thank you. And if you ever get tired of Gray …”

She smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand, but he thought she was secretly a little pleased with his flirting. Or maybe, he thought as he watched her walk away, she was just relieved because the flirting was more “normal” behavior for him.

Knowing his performance for Carolyn wasn’t exactly Oscar material, Jules decided he’d better leave town as soon as possible. Too bad he’d never bothered learning to drive, but it hadn’t seemed worth the trouble. It’s not like he ever went anywhere. No, he was stuck taking the train, which wasn’t happening at three in the morning. But as soon as the sun set tomorrow night, he’d be on the first train out of here.