Cain's Identity
Page 38

 Tina Folsom

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“Play nice with your brother for a while. It doesn’t mean you have to trust him. In the meantime we’ll launch the investigation into the attempt on your life. Somebody is bound to know something. And now that you’re back, everybody will want to get back in your good graces. Let’s turn that to your advantage,” Thomas suggested.
“Very well,” Cain said, when a knock at the door interrupted him. “Come.”
A middle-aged vampire carrying a serving tray with several glasses of red liquid entered and inclined his head toward Cain. “Your Majesty, the blood you ordered.”
“Thank you, uh.” He wanted to address the vampire by his name, but couldn’t. “On the coffee table please.” When the man turned his back to bend down and place the tray on the table, Cain shot Haven a look. Luckily his friend understood immediately.
“What’s your name?” Haven asked casually and reached for a glass.
The vampire straightened. “I’m Robert. I’m the master of supplies for the palace and have been so for many years,” he said with pride in his voice.
Cain rose and walked to the seating area. “It’s good to see you again, Robert.”
“It’s good to see you well, sir.” Despite the friendly words, Cain sensed some apprehension rolling off Robert.
“Thank you, Robert.”
The vampire nodded, then looked at Wesley. “I ordered human food for you. Should I bring it as soon as it arrives?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m starving here!” Wes confirmed.
With an acknowledging nod, Robert turned to the door and left. Cain joined his friends and snatched a glass of blood from the tray. He set it to his lips and took a sip. Within seconds, he’d emptied the glass. Instantly he felt better. So far his bluff had worked. Nobody had an inkling that he suffered from amnesia. And the way things looked at the moment, nobody would ever have to find out. Whatever obstacles lay in his way, he would manage to overcome them.
“Let’s get to work.”
18
Faye walked through the hallway and noticed several guards waiting outside of the king’s office. The door to it was closed.
“Marcus,” she called out to one of them, who immediately looked in her direction and gave a short nod. “Is Abel with the king?”
“No, I believe he’s outside in the garden.”
“Thank you.”
Taking a deep breath, Faye walked through the entrance hall and opened the door to get outside, past the two guards who flanked the door. She might as well get this over with or it would be looming over her all night.
Outside humid night air greeted her. A million stars hung in the night sky and the moon was still almost full, bathing the palace’s grounds in enough light that even a human would not have needed an artificial light source to find his way around.
Faye glanced around the veranda, but Abel wasn’t sitting in any of the comfortable chairs that were dotted on the porch. She’d loved sitting here with Cain when he’d had a moment to take a break from his business as king. She’d cherished those short moments where he’d shared his vision for the kingdom with her, before withdrawing again to implement whatever changes he thought would bring the clan further into the twenty-first century.
With a sigh, she walked around the palace, remaining on the porch that wrapped around the entire building. Maybe Abel was at the back of it, enjoying the beautiful evening. Her light summer dress clung to her skin, though she couldn’t entirely blame the Louisiana humidity for it. She knew she perspired for other reasons. It was anxiety that made her skin feel clammy.
The back porch was empty too, and Faye was about to turn back, when she perceived a movement from the corner of her eye. She shifted her gaze to the area that had caught her attention: the white gazebo that stood several dozens of yards out in the vast garden, surrounded by bushes to lend it some privacy.
Knowing that the guards rarely ventured there because Abel had declared the place his own personal domain, Faye stepped down from the porch and strolled along the walkway leading to it, the sound of her flat shoes absorbed by the soft moss beneath her feet.
Apprehension rose the closer she got to the gazebo. She’d practiced her speech while in her room, but now that she was about to face Abel, her throat was dry. She took a deep breath. With it, the scent of human blood filled her nostrils.
Abel wasn’t alone.
Faye stopped in her approach, but it was too late. Abel had already lifted his head and spotted her. His fangs were extended and dripped with blood.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb,” she said hastily and attempted to turn.