Compelled Page 3

  “You want us to pretend to be a couple to disarm the parents,” she guessed. “What’s our story? Just passing through, thought we’d drop in and see an old friend? How do we know him?”

  “The military, of course. It’s clearly the centerpiece of the guy’s life so far.”

  “This is a waste of time,” Raphael interrupted with a growl. “Put me in the same room with the parents, and I’ll tell you everything they know.”

  “I thought we’d hold out on the torture techniques until absolutely necessary,” Nick said mockingly.

  “Don’t lecture me about cruelty, sorcerer. I know the history between our races as well as you, and I know who you are.”

  The air in the hangar was abruptly charged with violence as the two of them glared their hatred across the table. Cyn’s heart was racing. Her brain knew she wasn’t in danger from either one of them, but it was difficult to convince her body of that, what with her well-honed survival instincts flaring bright and sharp and urging her to run. She wasn’t alone in her reaction, either. Raphael’s vampires had gone on full alert all around the hangar, and Juro leapt from the small plane, hitting the concrete floor in a single bound before coming to a sudden halt at the bottom of the stairs.

  She glanced at Raphael, knowing he’d told Juro to wait. The big vampire wouldn’t have paused otherwise. The other guards were similarly watching and waiting, on alert, but not moving in.

  Nick grinned suddenly, but it didn’t reach his eyes, which were still hot with anger. There was a history between these two, she realized. Raphael had said he didn’t know Nick personally, and she believed him as far as that statement went. He didn’t lie to her anymore, didn’t hold back unpleasant truths. They’d nearly lost each other the last time he’d tried something like that, and he’d sworn it wouldn’t happen again. She believed him about that, too. He loved her so deeply that it scared her sometimes. Not because she feared him, but because she worried she couldn’t possibly live up to the depths of his love.

  She reached over with her free hand and stroked Raphael’s forearm, drawing his attention to the hard grip he had on her other hand. He relaxed it right away, but didn’t let go.

  Nick stood suddenly, his gaze fixed on their clasped hands, before he lifted his eyes to meet her curious stare. He gave her that same grin, the one that most people would buy at face value. She didn’t, but she didn’t know what was behind it either. Why was Nick so obsessed with her relationship with Raphael? So far, this meeting had only produced more questions. And most of those had nothing to do with the missing manacles.

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, Cyn. Assuming your keeper will open the cage door, that is.”

  She sighed. He just wouldn’t let it go. This little adventure was going to be exhausting if the two of them couldn’t stop sniping at each other.

  “Any particular time the parents are home?” she asked, knowing Nick would have researched that sort of detail.

  “I want to try the mom alone first. She’s a homemaker who sometimes runs errands in the morning, but she’s always home in the afternoon, because she babysits the grandkids after school.”

  “I’m not doing this in front of kids,” Cyn told him firmly.

  “I’m wounded that you think so little of me.” He said it lightly, but a small stab of guilt hit her anyway. The conflict between him and Raphael was beginning to wear on her. She really didn’t think Nick would ever bring kids into a potentially dangerous situation. “I’ll pick you up at one,” he said. “The kids don’t get to Grandma’s ’til three thirty, so we should be good. And I know how you like to hang around in bed and sleep late.”

  Cyn closed her eyes when he said that, feeling the tension ratchet back up in Raphael’s big body.

  “Okay,” she said, coming to her feet. She’d had enough for one night. “Nick, if you could e-mail me everything you have—”

  He nodded, smiling, until she continued.

  “—then I think we’ve done all we can, and this meeting is over. Like right now.”

  “I’m wounded.”

  “Uh huh,” she said dismissively. “Thanks for coming. I’ll see you here tomorrow afternoon.”

  Nick gave her a suggestive leer as he stood. “If you need me for anything at all—”

  “Nick,” she breathed, both exasperated and worn out by his constant teasing.

  “All right, all right. I know where I’m not wanted,” he said, laughing. “I’ll have my girl send you those files, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned and strolled toward the exit, but spun around when he reached for the door, to get in one final shot. “Don’t worry, vampire. I’ll take good care of her.”

  Cyn wished for something heavy and a good throwing arm at that moment. Nick gave her a knowing wink and pulled open the door, ducking outside before she could lay her hands on a suitable projectile. This was one of those times when she wished for some magic of her own.

  And speaking of magic . . .

  She heard a creaking groan and looked back to find the wooden table straining under the grip of Raphael’s powerful fingers. Cyn reached down and placed her hand over his, sliding onto his lap as she did so. Cyn wasn’t big on lap-sitting, but sometimes it was necessary.

  “Look at me, Raphael,” she ordered softly.

  It took a moment, but he shifted his eyes to meet hers. “If I kill him,” he said in a voice completely lacking emotion, “there will be no reason to hunt down the manacles.”

  She laughed nervously, not at all certain he was joking. “We should probably get the damn things back anyway,” she reasoned. “I hate it that Mathilde used them against you. And really, this is partly my fault. I never should have left them there in the first place.”

  He hugged her closer. “As I recall, you were otherwise occupied at the time,” he said roughly. And she felt a rush of liquid warmth between her thighs at the memory of those first few moments when she’d unlocked the manacles and set him free. He’d been hungry, starving. First for her blood . . . and then for her body.

  “We should get back to Kansas City,” she said, but made no effort to move. She might not be a lap-sitter, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the sensation. Being close to Raphael, having his arms around her, his heart beating against her ribs . . . she wished they could forget about all the bullshit in their world. Forget about European invaders and ancient mystical devices. Forget even about ancient sorcerers, even if one of them was Nick.

  She frowned as that thought crossed her mind, but then Raphael patted her butt and said, “You’re right. And the sorcerer is gone by now, so we can leave, too.”

  Cyn stood and took his hand, then pulled him to his feet behind her. His standing was a signal, and his vampires were suddenly on the move, hustling in from their watchful corners to establish a new perimeter as she and Raphael made their way, not back onto the Learjet, but into one of the big, black Escalades parked at the rear of the hangar.

  What they hadn’t told Nick, what Raphael would never agree to tell him, was that they hadn’t flown from LA to Lawrence. The Lear, for all its comforts, wasn’t nearly big enough to hold all of the personnel necessary for a trip like this. Raphael’s security was always tight, but for this trip, Juro had gone all out. He seemed completely in tune with Raphael when it came to the threat posed by Nick, and Cyn was reminded again that she needed to ask Raphael about what was obviously a long and ugly history between vampires and sorcerers. She hated being kept in the dark, especially when it came to things that might threaten Raphael’s life. In fact, she was a little pissed that no one had volunteered the information before this meeting.

  Regardless of that, the fact of the matter was that they’d flown Raphael’s Boeing 707 into Kansas City and driven to Lawrence. The Lear had already been in Lawrence by then, having been flown in during the day along
with several of Raphael’s daylight personnel who met with their counterparts on Lucas’s staff. Lucas was Lord of the Plains Territory, which included Kansas, and so it had been necessary to coordinate this visit with him. It was a big deal among vampires when one lord visited another one’s territory, but ever since the North American vamps had come together in an alliance, things were easier. Even without the alliance, though, it wouldn’t have been a problem for Raphael to visit Kansas. Lucas was Raphael’s child, and they remained close, no matter that Lucas now ruled a territory of his own.

  They could have just gone ahead and met Nick in Kansas City, where the 707 was parked. But since that was also where Raphael and his vampires were sleeping during the day, he wasn’t about to reveal that location to Nick. So, they’d driven to Lawrence earlier, and were now driving back to Kansas City. There were three SUVs in the small convoy. One of Raphael’s security people was driving their SUV with Juro in the passenger seat. Jared was back home in Malibu. He’d wanted to come with them—Raphael’s vampires were all sort of clingy in the aftermath of Hawaii—but with the war going on, someone had to stay behind to hold down the fort, and this time around that someone was Jared.

  It was quiet and comfortable in the vehicle with just the four of them, and a sense of being separate from the world zooming by outside fostered an atmosphere of privacy.

  Cyn snuggled closer in the curve of Raphael’s arm. As usual, she was the only one wearing a seatbelt, which made it easier to cuddle in the dark cocoon of the back seat.

  “What’s the deal with you and Nick?” Her voice was almost sleepy sounding, she was so relaxed. She felt Raphael’s heavy shoulders move in a shrug.

  “He’s a sorcerer. I told you, they can’t be trusted.”

  “Yeah, but why? What’s the history between you guys?”

  “I never met him before Hawaii.”

  Cyn wanted to punch him, or maybe just dig her elbow into his hard gut. He was being deliberately obtuse. “Raphael,” she said with forced patience, “why do vampires hate sorcerers? Everyone seems to know about it except me, and I’m getting sick of being in the dark while you and Nick throw conversation bombs at one another.”

  “Conversation bombs?” he repeated, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

  “Raphael.”

  He sighed lightly. “It goes back to before I was born, though not before your friend Nicolas Katsaros was.”

  She blinked in surprise. “But you’re nearly five hundred—”

  “Exactly. I don’t know precisely how old Katsaros is, but I can feel the weight of his years pressing on me when we’re in the same room. He is ancient, my Cyn.”

  “Like hundreds of years ancient or . . . ?” Her question trailed off leadingly.

  “Thousands,” Raphael said simply.

  “That’s impossible,” she said immediately. “I can buy vampires being hundreds of years old and still walking around looking good—”

  “Thank you,” he muttered.

  “—but thousands of years? I’m not sure I can buy that.”

  He shrugged again. “The truth is not dependent on belief, yours or anyone else’s. I will agree,” he hurried to add, when she surrendered to impulse and elbowed him in the gut, “that Katsaros’s situation is unique. Sorcerers of his age aren’t exactly littering the earth, but that doesn’t change the facts. He is ancient. Precisely how ancient, I don’t know.”

  “Huh.” She thought about it a minute, then frowned, realizing what he’d done. Or at least tried to do. “But you’re not going to distract me with that,” she assured him. “I want to know why vampires hate sorcerers, and vice versa. Because it’s obvious that Nick doesn’t like you any more than you like him.”

  She could feel the weight of Raphael’s stare when he turned and gave her a long look. He was probably wondering why he couldn’t have fallen in love with a stupid woman, or at least someone more pliant. She smiled sweetly back at him, and he choked back a laugh. He did love her, even though sometimes he might wish he didn’t.

  “The hatred goes back centuries. Again, long before I was born. This much I know to be true, because my Sire was there and she told me about it. Vampires have always outnumbered sorcerers, because sorcerers are born, not created. And they’re fairly rare. No one knows why one child will be a sorcerer, but his siblings won’t. Or why a sorcerer parent is no more likely to produce a sorcerer child than anyone else.

  “Vampires, on the other hand, are made creatures. Our numbers depend only on the whim of our Sires. As recently as five hundred years ago, powerful vampires were siring armies of offspring to defend themselves against attacks from both humans and other vampires. Which meant that for every sorcerer, there were at least a few hundred vampires.

  “This imbalance made sorcerers uneasy. Even though only a very few vampires were powerful enough to rival them, more were being made every year, while sorcerers seemed to be dying off. Some hypothesized that the earth was losing its magic and could no longer sustain even the few sorcerers being born. I don’t know about that, but I do know that the sorcerers decided vampires were the problem, that we were soaking up all of the magical energy, and that’s why sorcerers were dying.

  “In their wisdom,” he said, his tone making it clear that he didn’t think wisdom had any part in what happened, “they crafted a plan of wholesale slaughter, seeking out the daytime resting places of vampires and killing them while they were helpless. The idea and necessity for vampires to have a daytime guard force was born during this time. At first, the sorcerers simply killed the human guards in order to get to the vampires. But those guards had family and friends, some even had human lords to whom they were sworn, and their deaths did not go unnoticed. At the same time, the vampires started fighting back, and the sorcerers learned a difficult lesson . . . they were no longer the only power on earth. Most of them didn’t even approach Katsaros’s level of ability, and they suddenly found themselves as helpless as the vampires they’d so eagerly slaughtered.”

  “So what happened?” Cyn prodded, when he lapsed into thoughtful silence.

  “A truce of sorts. There was nothing formal, it was more understood. Vampires and sorcerers simply stopped killing each other.”

  “Just like that?”

  “I’m sure it was weeks or months before it ended completely.”

  She frowned. “You said sorcerers were dying off. How many are there now? And why haven’t I heard of them before this?”

  “I don’t believe anyone’s taken a formal count, but I would guess there are fewer than a hundred of them left in the world, and no more than one or two of those are as powerful as Katsaros.”

  “I wonder how old he really is,” she murmured, privately wondering about herself and really old guys. Raphael was flirting with five hundred years, and now it turned out that Nick was even older. Sheesh. She caught the flash of Raphael’s smile and knew he was following her train of thought.

  “His past is a bit murky, which makes it difficult to know. Maybe he’ll tell you his full story now that you know the truth of him.”

  “Maybe,” she said doubtfully. It seemed to her that if Nick had wanted her to know his history, he would have told her what he was in the first place. He’d never even hinted at being anything but an ordinary human.

  She glanced up as the lights of the Kansas City airport came into view. Juro skirted the main terminals in favor of the general aviation service area. A lot of the private aircraft flying into Kansas City favored the smaller and more centrally located downtown airport, but their runways couldn’t accommodate a Boeing 707. On the other hand, private hangar space at the international airport was at a premium. Fortunately, Lucas knew a guy who knew a guy, and one of the regular maintenance hangars had been made available. True, the hangar was currently being renovated and so it wasn’t exactly luxe, but th
en, all Raphael and his people needed was a private space that could be secured against intruders.

  The hangar was completely lit up when they arrived. Anyone watching would assume the 707 was simply in for service. But as soon as the three SUVs crossed the threshold and were parked next to the jet, the big doors were closed and locked. Cyn was accustomed to the routine and so she waited patiently while the security personnel in the other two SUVs piled out and verified the safety of the hangar, before giving Juro the go-ahead via the wireless comm they all wore.

  One of the security vamps approached the SUV, but Raphael beat him to the punch, opening the door and stepping outside before holding out a hand to Cyn. She was accustomed to this, too. Most of her life, she’d resisted the idea that she needed a man to open her car door or help her disembark—unless she was wearing a skirt and heels, that was. In those cases, men were very handy to have around. But she’d learned during her time with Raphael that it was one of the ways he cared for her. And so she took his proffered hand with a smile, laughing when he used the connection to tug her closer, wrap an arm around her back, and pull her in for a quick kiss.

  This was an entirely different Raphael than the one who’d been sitting in that other hangar, meeting with Nick. That Raphael had been all coiled tension and . . . well, hatred wasn’t too strong a word. Regardless of the circumstances of his meeting with Nick, the instincts that had kept Raphael alive for so long had held him on edge, waiting for the attack he knew was coming.

  But now he was back among his own people, and there was work to be done. His responsibilities didn’t stop just because he wasn’t in Malibu. The 707 was like a flying office, and he had both corporate and vampire business to attend to.

  “I have a conference call in ten minutes,” he said, his fingers running lightly up and down her spine as he guided her over to the aircraft stairs.