Night's Honor
Page 43

Dark: You know that’s a lie. It’s just a matter of time. He got to Eathan, didn’t he?
Light: Eathan wasn’t trying to hide, and I am. I’m virtually living off the grid here. I don’t go anywhere, or use my bank accounts. I haven’t given my Social Security number to anybody, I never do anything meaningful on the Internet or use similar passcodes, and I never let myself develop any kind of search pattern that has anything to do with Las Vegas, or gambling, or Djinn.
Dark: Stop trying to fool yourself, and plan for it to happen. He’ll find you, and when he does, he might do more than just kill you. He might hurt people on the estate, just for sheltering you.
She slowed to a stop, staring blankly down the deserted road.
Turning in a semicircle, she looked back the way she had come. The estate had disappeared, and cool forest surrounded her. Because of how the road curved, she couldn’t see more than a hundred yards in either direction.
Her answers weren’t down either stretch of road, anyway. She already knew what she needed to do.
After a moment, she resumed her jog, but at a slower pace. After all, she didn’t need to push herself. It didn’t matter how fast or how far she ran now. When a half hour was up, she turned and made her way back to the estate. She keyed in the code that would open the gates and stepped back onto the grounds. As the gates swung closed behind her, she walked at a sedate pace back to the attendants’ house.
She could just see the corner of the ballroom, and it was as beautiful from the outside as it was from within. Now that she knew she had to leave, she could spare herself another evening spent in Xavier’s company, but surprisingly, that idea didn’t hold any appeal.
For a few fleeting moments last night, she had felt as if she winged weightlessly over the floor. Xavier’s hold had been both assured and gentle. As soon as she had relaxed and trusted it, he swept her along in the dance and the world turned around them.
She forgot about her clumsy feet, or that she was in hiding. She forgot he was supposed to be a repulsive monster. She didn’t feel a single bruise or aching muscle.
All she felt, all she heard was the music. All she saw was the slow widening of his smile that lit his intent gaze and turned his intelligent, naturally reflective expression into something much more keen and transcendent.
She really wanted to find out if they could achieve ninety seconds like that one more time.
After staying for six weeks, she thought, a few more hours won’t hurt.
I can leave in the morning.
That evening, for dinner the attendants had Spanish paella, with rabbit, chorizo sausage, shrimp, clams, mussels and calamari, and for dessert, they had a simple, delicious homemade ice cream. All five of the other trainees—Marc, Jeremy, Aaron, Scott and Brian—were absent, and nobody mentioned where they had gone, but everyone else was present and ate a hearty meal.
Tess sat beside Angelica at one end of the farm-style table. As was her usual habit, she kept her attention on her food while she listened to everyone else talk. This time, instead of focusing on how the conversation seemed almost deliberately innocuous, she noticed instead the teasing banter and genuine warmth.
At the end of the meal, she glanced sidelong at Angelica and said quietly, “I haven’t really taken the opportunity to get to know you, and I’m sorry for that.”
Angelica turned to her with a look of surprise that melted into a warm, crooked smile that deepened all the lines in her face and made her beautiful. “You’re a good kid,” the older woman said. “And you’ve been busy. We’ve got time.”
She nodded without replying, because, of course, they had no time, and she would be gone before breakfast. After she helped clean up, she went upstairs to her room to make sure she hadn’t dropped any food on her shirt. Tidying her hair by putting it into a short braid, she brushed her teeth and headed for the main house.
This time when she reached the dining room, it was empty. A small pile of old books had been stacked by one of the place settings, and a note rested on top of them. She picked it up.
Written in a strong, slanting hand, the note said, Please begin reading these. I will join you in the ballroom at sundown.—X.
Of course, he must be a very busy man, doing whatever he did for the Nightkind demesne. Setting the note aside, she examined the books. Most were written in English and dealt with the different etiquettes for several Elder Races, but a few were in French. He had remembered that she could read French.
One book was much more modern than the others, a heavy trade paperback on biofeedback techniques.
Choosing that book, she settled into a chair and began reading. Most biofeedback therapies were done in a clinical setting, with electronic and thermal sensors, but one section concentrated on exercises one could do outside of a clinical environment to change one’s thoughts, emotions or behavior.
Funny, how it all came back to the same thing that Raoul had said to her—she had to change the conversations in her head. Deep, steady breathing could slow the heart rate. Focusing on things other than what produced a strong fear response could calm panic attacks. So could positive imagery.
She poked her tongue into one cheek. Was it positive imagery to think of all the ways you could kill a Vampyre when you met one, or all the ways in which they were vulnerable?
Well, she wouldn’t learn biofeedback with electrodes plastered to her head, so she ought to be able to think of whatever image worked for her too.
Not that she would be around to practice, anyway.
She read until the light faded outside and dusk darkened the page. Setting aside the book, she rose to her feet and went to the empty ballroom to look out at the ocean. On warm evenings, the tall, Palladian-style windows could be opened all around the room to allow for fresh air to blow in.
She had to agree with Raoul. This room was the jewel of the house.
Something ached. Was she actually sad at the thought of leaving?
Frowning, she turned from the window just as Xavier strode into the room. Tonight, he wore all black, simple slacks and a thin sweater that looked as if it might be silk. The clothes molded to his lean, strong form and emphasized his natural elegance more than ever.
Her pulse quickened, but it wasn’t from fear. While she certainly respected how dangerous he was, she no longer believed he would hurt her. So why did her blasted heart rate pick up again?
She had no time to puzzle over it. As soon as he saw her, he gave her a small smile and a slight, archaic bow in greeting that seemed as natural to him as breathing. “Ah, good, you are here. Follow me, please.”