Xavier: Vampires in Europe (Vampires in America Book 14) Page 20

  “Surely a blanket or two would be appropriate,” he said, fingering the rough, cotton cover with distaste.

  “Now that you’ve survived, the accommodations will improve.”

  Sakal gave him a shocked glance that was quickly shuttered, to be replaced by his seemingly habitual sneer. “When is my audience with Josep?”

  “As soon as you can stand on your own.”

  Sakal was shaky, but determined, as they climbed the stairs, though he seemed to be growing more agitated with every step.

  “Are you well?” Xavier asked, sympathetic to the sorcerer’s plight, for all that he was an unlikeable ass.

  “My magic,” Sakal whispered. “Where is—?” He shot Xavier a suspicious glance and didn’t finish what he’d been about to say as they finally reached the room where Josep waited.

  Xavier knew the instant Josep realized that the sorcerer had no power as a vampire. His thoughts, when they met Xavier’s, were disappointed, but accepting of the failure.

  “Lord Josep,” Sakal snapped, demanding his Sire’s attention. “What is the outcome? I’m told only you would know.”

  Amusement drifted from Josep’s mind, before he pinned the sorcerer with his eyes blazing power and said, “You are a vampire.”

  “But what of the rest?” Sakal insisted.

  “What is the state of your sorcery?”

  Sakal was silent for a moment, as if searching within himself. But when he looked up again, his words were hard and accusing. “Weak,” he growled. “Weak as I haven’t been since childhood. What have you done to me, vampire?”

  Josep’s smile bared his fangs. “Careful, sorcerer—if you can still call yourself that. Regardless, however, you are a vampire, and a pitifully weak one of those, too. Either of us in this room could slap you down with a thought.”

  “You did this to me,” Sakal hissed, and threw one arm forward as if tossing a toy. Josep laughed, but Xavier saw it for what it was. With a burst of speed, he placed himself in front of his Sire so that the twisting sphere of magic struck him full in the chest. The shock of it dropped him to his knees as he waited for the magic to chew into his chest and destroy his heart.

  And he waited.

  He stared down at the blackened spot on his tunic where the magic had hit, but felt nothing. Gripping both sides of the neckline, he ripped downward until his chest was bare, and found no mark, not even the redness that a human fist would have caused.

  “Your gift has revealed itself at last,” Josep said, chuckling. “And with excellent timing.”

  Xavier looked from his uninjured chest to his Sire. “Gift, my lord?”

  “Every powerful vampire has a talent unique to him alone. And yours, it would seem, has just saved my life.” He clapped a hand on Xavier’s shoulder. “Congratulations, my child. You’re immune to magic.”

  Xavier heard a gasp and swung around to find Sakal backing away in shock, and more than a little fear.

  “You’ll pay for this,” the sorcerer whispered, hate-filled eyes lifted to Josep, before shifting to include Xavier. “Both of you will pay before the end.”

  And then he ran, chased by the sound of Josep’s delighted laughter.

  Sant Andreu De Llavaneres, Barcelona, Spain, present day

  “YOU LET HIM GO?” Layla asked in disbelief.

  Xavier sighed. “It was a mistake, but the decision wasn’t mine.”

  “That’s a cop-out.”

  He scowled at her. “It was a different time. It was Josep’s home— his territory, not mine.”

  “You already said you were more powerful than he was. Why should you have to pay for his mistake?”

  “You can’t understand. You’re not a vampire.”

  “And thank God for that, if it means standing by while some full-of-himself vampire lord decides my future.”

  “You were in the army. Did you agree with every decision your generals made? Decisions that sent you and others out to be killed?”

  Layla grimaced. “Okay, I see your point.” She twisted to set the now-empty plate on the side table, then settled back, took the glass of whiskey from his hand, drank, and returned it. “So that’s why Sakal’s after you. Why’d you think he was dead?”

  “Sakal thought he could leave Spain whenever he wanted. He didn’t understand that as a vampire, he was now bound to his Sire, who was Josep. He couldn’t leave Josep’s territory. Not because Josep wouldn’t permit it, though he wouldn’t, but because by entering a rival vampire lord’s territory without permission, he would be subject to immediate execution. No questions asked.”

  “Josep would kill him?”

  “No, Layla, the rival vampire lord would. You don’t fully comprehend the power a vampire lord wields over those who live within his authority. I know every vampire in Spain. Not personally, that’s impossible, though I have met a good number of them. But I know their . . . ” He fought for the right word. “Their taste in my mind, the sense of them. Now, someone as weak as Sakal could slip beneath the radar, as we say now, for some period of time. But eventually, he would be discovered. Not by me, but by one of those loyal to me. I have master vampires in every city, keeping track of who lives there and keeping them in line. Every other vampire lord has the same.”

  “Sounds feudal, which wasn’t a great thing for the serfs.”

  “It is. Vampires have been around a long time, and they live a long time, too. There’s been very little change in the rules that govern vampire society in thousands of years.”

  “Fuck me.”

  He shot her a grin.

  “That was an expression,” she snapped, as heat spread over her face.

  “Don’t worry, cariño. When I fuck you, it will be because you want it.”

  She snorted. “Like that’s going to happen.”

  “Oh, it is. But not tonight.”

  And what the hell was with that pang of regret she was feeling? Damn it. “So what happened?” she asked grumpily.

  “My Sire, Josep, ignored Sakal for months while he considered the situation. It was common for a sorcerer to travel in those days. They were scholars as much as magic-users, and Sakal was convinced he could find a way to restore his full magical talents. Josep liked that possibility, because he would have been left with a strong sorcerer who had an unbreakable bond to him, as his Sire. The Sire-child bond is one of the strongest there is among vampires. Only the mate bond is stronger.”

  Layla found that bit of truth interesting and maybe something more. But it was something she wasn’t ready to think about yet, so she said, “But if Sakal left, and managed to avoid getting killed, could Josep somehow call him back?”

  “It was a possibility, but in the end, it wasn’t necessary. A second sorcerer, one more powerful than Sakal, happened to wander through Barcelona. He met with Josep, which was not unusual since many, if not most, sorcerers at the time were always looking for patrons to support them while they conducted their research. And with a vampire lord, there was no need to pretend that magic didn’t exist.

  “But it wasn’t long before this sorcerer learned of Sakal’s predicament, probably from Sakal himself. They approached Josep soon after, asking for a chance to allow the new sorcerer to restore the full measure of Sakal’s magical power.” He sighed in regret. “And Josep agreed.”

  “But something went wrong.”

  “Yes, it did. If I’d been there, I would have reminded Josep how well his meddling in magic had turned out the first time. As it was, the spell did work, after a fashion. Sakal recovered virtually all of his sorcerous power. Unfortunately, what he lost was his sanity.”

  “He’s not crazy,” Layla insisted. “No nutjob could have orchestrated this campaign, these guerilla-style tactics. They don’t even care if they inflict casualties on our side. It’s
enough that they keep us on edge, wondering when the next attack is going to come. And then there’s the disappearing act with his troops that he pulls off every time.”

  “They’re not disappearing,” he corrected mildly.

  “I know that, but anything else sounds too much like, “Beam me up, Scotty.”

  He studied her as if worried she’d lost her mind.

  “Star Trek, dude. It’s a TV show, where they teleport people”—she shrugged—“using some electronic, computer thing. I’m not sure how it worked, but it was definitely not magic. And we’re getting off the point. Today’s kidnapping is a clear escalation, even if it didn’t work out for them. We need to figure out his next step, before it happens.”

  “I agree. But first . . . ”

  Without warning, he rolled in her direction, reaching out as he did to wrap her in one arm and pull her under his body. It all happened so fast that the next thing she knew, he was kissing her, his lips firm but soft, his mouth demanding as he urged her lips apart and his tongue slid against hers like warm silk, seducing and claiming in turn.

  Layla knew she should fight the seduction. She was strong. She should throw him off, then toss some whiskey in his face to cool him down. Who the hell did he think he was?

  Except . . . she didn’t want to do any of that. What she wanted was . . . every touch of his lips against hers, every stroke of his tongue . . . the strength in his fingers as he gripped her hip, holding her in place. And God save her, the weight of his rigid cock against her thigh.

  Her heart was racing, her nipples stiff against the confinement of her sports bra. She wanted to be naked with him, wanted him to—

  As fast as it had begun, it was over. He gave her one, final hard kiss, then jumped from the bed and said, “I have a prisoner to question. Want to watch?”

  If she’d had a gun in her hand, she’d have shot him at that moment. She didn’t even care that it wouldn’t kill him, or that he’d heal in no time. It would hurt. Hell, maybe she’d shoot him anyway. She only had to roll a tiny bit to reach the Glock stabbing her in the kidney right now, because she was lying on the damn thing. Thanks to him.

  But before she could act, he grinned and said, “Now, now, Commander. You don’t want to shoot your employer. Besides, if you do that, I’ll recover easily enough, but you’ll miss the interrogation.”

  She got to her feet and growled. “You can just tell me about it later.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “You’re such an asshole. Where is this interrogation?”

  Chapter Twelve

  JOAQUIM AND CHUY were both waiting when Xavier led Layla through the office and out to the hallway. Walking back toward the stairs and then beyond, the four continued down a section of bare walls until they reached a square, deeply recessed alcove that contained a thick metal door.

  “I didn’t know this existed,” she said.

  “Why would you? This is a place that very few vampires are free to access.”

  “Has my father been here?”

  “Only once, long ago.”

  “He never talked about it.”

  “And neither will you.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  “Not yet you don’t. But you will.”

  He placed all five fingers on a biometric scanner to one side, and heard the door open with a soft buzz. Not long ago, that release would have been much louder and less sophisticated, but he believed in making use of modern technology, whether it was individual keys for the doors, or electronic locks.

  “This way,” he said, pointing to the left, where he could smell the human’s fear waiting for him. He opened an unlocked door and entered a small observation room. It contained three plain chairs and a small, narrow table on which sat several notepads and pens. There was also a compact refrigerator and a small microwave sitting on top of it. The refrigerator would hold a few pints of blood, which Rémy would have seen to when he’d stowed the prisoner in the adjoining cell. It was there for Xavier’s use, or any other vampire accompanying him. And sometimes when the prisoner was vampire, it was used on him as well, for both benefit and torment.

  “You’ll remain here,” Xavier told Layla, then nodded at Chuy to indicate that he would remain also, and put a hand on the cell door, ready to open its lock.

  “Why can’t I go in with you?” Layla demanded.

  “Because you can’t,” he responded simply, then released a small burst of his personal power into the door, freeing it to crack open a bare inch. He could sense Layla’s anger, but ignored it, and without so much as a glance back at her, he opened the door all the way and walked into the cell, with Joaquim stepping inside as well, before closing the door behind them.

  Xavier studied the girl. She was strapped down, lying on a thinly padded metal table, and seemed to be out cold, but he searched her consciousness, wanting to be sure. His main concern wasn’t that she might be faking her insensible state, but that she could be carrying magical booby traps that might be triggered if he used coercive power to interrogate her. What he found confirmed her allegiance, or at least alliance, with Sakal, or some other sorcerer of considerable power. But the trap he found wasn’t for him. Rather, it was a failsafe to protect Sakal by destroying her heart and killing her before she could divulge any secrets. He wondered if she was aware of the fatal device, and if her allegiance was that strong.

  Well, he’d soon find out, but first he had to remove that damn magical explosive.

  He deepened her unconscious state to avoid a sudden and unwanted awakening. He had the power to nullify the magical failsafe, but it would be a delicate operation. If she woke abruptly and began thrashing about, she could die anyway, before he could question her.

  After a quick nod to Joaquim—who would understand what Xavier was about to do and defend him against the rare possibility of an intrusion—he closed his eyes, and rested his hand flat on her chest, fingers spread wide. Sinking down into her flesh, through the bone of her ribcage, he caught a mental image of her heart beating steadily, slowly. He’d studied human anatomy in detail once he’d discovered he could do this. It was dangerous for humans. They were so much more delicate than the vampires he “operated” on. But the skill came in handy for healing the weaker members of his vampire cohort living within his Fortalesa.

  Searching beyond the physical heart, he saw the sorcerer’s spell waiting. It was a small thing, no more than a blurry blotch on her heart. But it responded to his magic which made it visible to his scan. This was the delicate part. If he touched the spell’s blotch before surrounding the entire heart, it could still do terrible damage. He didn’t worry about the various veins and arteries running in and out. Once he had the entire thing contained, his particular magic would nullify the spell, causing it to dissipate into harmless bits of nothing, like all the other bits of nothing that swam in the human body and were eventually excreted with other waste.

  When he was certain the entire organ was contained, along with the murderous spell, he touched the barest extension of the blotchy thing and watched as it fell apart under the gift of his magic. When he’d first discovered his unique gift, he’d thought it of limited use, but no longer. Apart from his ability to use his power in a non-lethal way on vampires, it seemed almost prophetic for him to have this gift when his most deadly enemy had turned out to be not just a vampire, but a sorcerer vampire.

  He withdrew his magic, thinking it perverse that he had just saved the girl’s life only so that he could torture the truth out of her, if necessary. There was a possibility that she would hold out and refuse to tell the truth, causing him to resort to more extreme forms of torture. He was willing to use whatever force necessary to get the information he wanted. And he thought it likely that Sakal had conditioned her psychologically to withstand torture and not betray him. That alone would have worked under hu
man torture, but knowing what vampires were capable of and willing to do, Sakal had needed the failsafe spell to protect himself against the possibility that one of his followers would undergo vampire questioning.

  Xavier did a final scan of the girl’s body searching for anything he might have missed, and when he found nothing, he sent a miniscule shock of power into her brain to bring to her back to consciousness.

  “Stop!” The girl’s eyes flashed open, and she tried to sit up, straining so frantically at the straps holding her arms down that they dug into her flesh deep enough to draw blood.

  “You’re awake,” Xavier commented.

  Her head twisted around and she stared up at him in defiance. “No drugs,” she snapped, twisting against the tight bonds as much as she could. “Lord Sakal says drugs pollute the mind, and we must remain coherent at all times if we are to serve his plan.”

  Xavier glanced over at Layla and caught her satisfied smile. She’d known this girl would be a talker. That’s why she’d kept her alive. His own smile was grimmer, however. He had to persuade her to talk about the right things.

  Giving her one of his most dashing smiles, he asked, “What’s your name?”

  Her first reaction was a mutinous glare, followed by a full-face frown that seemed to indicate deep thought. “Cláudia. And that’s all I’m going to tell you.”

  Making a sound of regret, he said “I’m afraid you couldn’t be more wrong.”

  She returned a smug smile and said, “Lord Sakal gifted me with his magic. You cannot coerce or torture me into revealing our secrets to you, vampire.” She said the last word as a curse.

  “You need to be less trusting, nena,” he murmured. “Did your master also tell you that his magic would stop you by killing you?”

  She appeared doubtful for a moment, but then the smug smile returned. “My lord wouldn’t do that. He loves all of us who follow him, and treats us well. He gathered us from the streets, where we were beggars and worse, treated like the dirt underfoot. He brought us to a safe place and takes care of us when no one else would.”