Blood Bred - From The Heart Part 8

Baris shook his head, though his body was already saying yes.

"You go on ahead. I want to rest for a bit." He dropped into a chair hearthside, dredging up just enough magic to set the wood laid in it ablaze.

Deirdre giggled and came up behind him to knead his shoulders. "You're too tense, Baris. You need to relax."

"If I were in the bath with you, Deirdre, relaxation would be the farthest thing from my mind," he mumbled, closing his eyes under her gentle touch. "Go on. Please."

He started when he felt her soft lips against his neck and opened his eyes to look up at her as she pulled back. She smiled at him, ran one finger along his cheek, then slipped away. He watched the bathroom door close, his heart racing. By the Sovereign, how he wanted to follow her!

He surged from his chair, anger at his own weakness overwhelming him, and stomped to the window to peer into the dusty streets.

"Anika," he whispered, feeling like a traitor for even daring to say her name. Tears came unbidden, a result of his fatigue, guilt and grief. He sagged against the wall, lifting his gaze to the dark skies. "Anika, I'm so sorry. I drove you away. You know me better than I know myself. Please, Anika, forgive me."

CHAPTER 10.

He felt much better and much more in control after a long, hot bath and a good meal at Cantor's. He had taken Deirdre shopping before dinner and though he had purchased her a set of good st.u.r.dy traveling leathers, she pleaded for a new dress to wear to dinner. She put her hair up in a gleaming coronet atop her head and even dusted a little powder on her wind-burned face. She looked radiant and Baris noticed many heads turning to watch her as she walked past. Despite his rioting emotions, it felt good to have such a lovely woman on his arm.

Now they strolled the sidewalk beneath the light of a full moon and well-placed lanterns. A gentle breeze blew against them, bringing the fresh scent of water. Baris had inquired and been told that there was a large lake just east of town within easy walking distance. It was where he and Deirdre were headed.

The sh.o.r.eline had been seeded with gra.s.s and planted with wildflowers, giving it a park-like setting. Lamps were placed around the entire circ.u.mference of the lake, their light glowing on stone benches set at intervals about the body of water. The benches were close enough together to ensure safety but far enough apart to ensure privacy. Baris led Deirdre to one such bench, noticing that lovers inhabited those on either side.

"Oh, Baris," Deirdre sighed. "This is so beautiful."

"Yes, it is," he agreed, though his gaze was more on her than on the scenery. He watched the wind ruffle stray tendrils that had escaped her hair clips, then forced himself to look away. "So, this is the type of place you yearn to live in?"

"Yes! It's wonderful here! Did you see the sign on the theater? They have plays here, actual plays, performed by actors. I've heard about them but I never dreamed I would be in a place that actually had them."

"Would you like to see a play while we're here?"

She turned to him with a whimper of delight. "Oh, yes! I would love to. But...the clothes, the room, the dinner...you've already done too much, Baris. I can't ask more of you."

He shushed her with a finger to her lips. "I want to, Deirdre. If you are going to experience life in other parts of the country, then you need to experience it all. You can't do that traipsing about in the woods. We'll stay here a few days while I recover, and take in the sights."

She looked away, her face in shadow so that he couldn't see it. "Will you try to return to the Lair again?"

"Yes, when I feel better."

"Will you--will you stay there?"

"Not just yet," he a.s.sured her. "I'll have Darius find Anika. Once I make sure she is all right and that Thale is all right, then I will have to make a decision on what to do with my life. Take my word, though, Deirdre, I will not leave you in this town unless and until you are comfortable here."

She c.o.c.ked her head at him, showing him her full mouth quirked wryly. "You mean, until I find a man to wed, someone to take care of me."

He laughed to cover the sudden pang the words gave him. He didn't want another man to take care of her. He wanted to do it.

"No, I meant until you had a way to support yourself and a sure place to live. I don't want to leave you in the streets."

"With what happened in that last village, I definitely don't want to be in the streets." She shivered and pressed closer to him. He draped his arm about her shoulders protectively. They sat in silence for a while, gazing at the moonlight sparkling on the lake. Baris could hear the whispered proclamations of love from the other couples. He could hear their wet, pa.s.sionate kisses and their soft moans of desire. It was doing nothing to squelch his own. He didn't have the slightest idea how he was going to get through the night in the same room as Deirdre. The sensible thing would be to procure another. Yet, he knew that Deirdre would not want that. She was still upset over being left alone before. He didn't want to upset her further.

"We should be getting back, I suppose," he said softly, standing up and pulling her with him. "It's getting chilly out here."

"But it's so beautiful," she protested with a resigned sigh. "Can we come back, Baris? Maybe tomorrow night?"

He smiled. "I thought you wanted to see a play."

"I do," she admitted, as they began the walk back toward town. "And I want to stroll the shops, as well and maybe go to that huge bookshop I saw and visit the silversmith. And...oh, Baris! Look!" She stopped short, pointing into the darkness. Baris followed her gesture. A huge, stately home sat back from the road, its lush gardens bordering the lake. Candlelamps hung from trees, shedding a yellow glow over the well-kept grounds. Men and women dressed in finery strolled about or chatted in small groups. Laughter and conversation drifted on the night breeze.

"Oh, Baris," Deirdre whispered. "It's a social party."

"A what?"

"A social party. Only the richest and finest people in a town are invited. Oh, how I wish I could attend such a gathering. Come on, let's sneak closer."

She took his hand and pulled him off the road and into the brush. He followed reluctantly, wondering how she knew about such things and yet beginning to share her sense of excitement. They stopped at the perimeter of the gardens. They were close enough to hear the water splashing in the fountains, to hear the clink of fine crystal as gla.s.ses were brought together in frequent toasts. Baris could even smell the costly liqueur that seemed to be flowing freely amongst the honored guests in attendance. He glanced down at Deirdre and caught his breath.

He had never seen her looking so radiantly lovely. The moonlight shone in her dark eyes alight with their own inner glow. The lamplight caught her hair, putting a golden halo about her head. Her smile was dreamy, her face flushed with pleasure as she gazed upon those before her.

And suddenly Baris wanted her to be a part of it. He wanted to see her strolling and mingling with the elite, the high society. He wanted to hear her laughter mixed in with that of the people at the party. He wanted her to be accepted, welcomed, included. He gripped her hand and pulled her past the hedge and into the gardens. She gasped, hanging back.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, panic in her eyes.

"Mingling," he whispered back and drew her straight into the crowd.

No one even seemed to notice. Baris picked up two gla.s.ses off the tray of a pa.s.sing servant and handed one to Deirdre. She took it with a shaky hand.

"Just act like we've always been here," he instructed. "No one will know any different."

"Baris, we'll be arrested. We have to get out of here." Her voice was husky with a combination of excitement and fear.

"We'll be fine. Just smile that lovely smile and walk with me." He moved away, Deirdre close to his side.

Several of the other guests nodded a greeting as they pa.s.sed but no one stopped them to question who they were. They entered the manor house easily.

Inside, the elegance continued. The hall was huge, the walls covered with finely woven tapestries. Velvet-covered chairs lined the walls, while the center of the floor had been cleared for dancing. Indeed, there were numerous couples already enjoying the music of a small orchestra playing in one corner. Baris set his gla.s.s down and offered his hand to Deirdre. She flushed, laughed, and accepted. He placed her gla.s.s next to his and led her to the dance floor. At first she was stiff and awkward but once she realized that no one was going to burst through the door to seize them and throw them out, she melted into his arms.

Baris held her close, savoring the silky softness of her hair, the light scent of the perfume she wore, the pressure of her body against his. A tap on his shoulder startled him and he looked into the face of a young man.

"Might I interrupt this dance?" the man asked, his gaze on Deirdre.

Baris started to protest, not willing to let her go. Then, he remembered his Illusion was that of a man old enough to be Deirdre's father. No doubt that's what the young man thought as well. Baris smiled and placed Deirdre's hand into the other man's waiting palm.

"You may indeed," he said, noticing a slight hint of something...fear?...creep into Deirdre's eyes. "I will be close."

"No fear," the man said. "I will be the ultimate gentleman with such a vision of loveliness."

Deirdre blushed and Baris slipped away. He watched as Deirdre and the young man swirled away, moving gracefully through the other dancers. He knew he should be happy for her. This was what she wanted. A place in society, with the elite. Surely this young man was of money. And he was clearly interested in Deirdre. Yet, every fiber of Baris' being p.r.i.c.kled with jealousy. He despised the easy way the young man held Deirdre, the closeness. And he tightened his jaw when he saw the man plant a gentle kiss on Deirdre's cheek. He barely noticed that someone had moved in beside him.

"Friend Vector," the man said quietly, in their own tongue. "Greetings."

Baris whirled, surprised. He nearly choked on his gasp, and quickly bowed. "Greetings, Elder," he managed.

The man chuckled. "Your mind is clearly pre-occupied that you didn't sense my presence. At the least, you are aware enough to know my rank. My name is Quentin." He gestured toward Deirdre. "She is quite lovely. A witch?"

Baris hesitated. He knew full well of the l.u.s.t Vectors held for a witch and a bleeder. He was glad that Deirdre had not used her magic recently. There was no scent of iron to give her bleeder status away. Quentin laughed again and clapped Baris on the shoulder.

"Don't worry," he said. "I have no designs on your mate. Though I must admit I envy you."

"She's not my mate, Elder," Baris replied hastily, then wished he'd said nothing.

"Oh?"

"She...she is my--traveling companion."

The knowing smile with which Quentin responded said exactly how he had interpreted that.

"You are both unfamiliar to me. Tell me, how did you get into the party? I would have known had you been on the guest list."

Baris felt the color creep toward his cheeks. "We...we rather dropped in."

"Oh? How incredibly brash." He laughed, which somehow didn't make Baris feel any more comfortable. In fact, the words irritated him. Still, he knew better than to show that irritation to an Elder, and so calmed his voice when he spoke.

"We are only in town for a few days. We happened to be pa.s.sing by on our way back from the lake and she told me she had always wished to attend a party such as this. I obviously don't have time to establish myself as one of the elite, but, as you can see, she fits in quite well, despite having no invitation." He changed the subject. "Perhaps you can do me a favor. I am searching for another witch, a male. He is traveling with a Vector. Might you have seen them pa.s.s this way?"

"No, I can't say as I have. However, I did hear a man was killed in a village not far from here. His neck was snapped, apparently without a struggle. It would take a very powerful man to do that. Perhaps even a Vector."

Baris' stomach churned uneasily. "That was my doing, Elder," he admitted. "But it was not without provocation. He attacked my companion."

"Just the same, it brought attention to our kind. I, personally, don't like that kind of attention. It has taken me a long time to reach the position I have here. I don't like having that position threatened, particularly by strangers. I suggest you and your companion move on in the morning."

Baris drew himself up in annoyance, trying to keep his tone civil. "We were planning to stay for a few days. I am only just recovering from an illness. And my companion needs time out of the damp and cold of the forests."

"An illness?" He snorted. "Witchery, you mean."

"Witchery?"

"You reek of her magic, my friend. Perhaps she has you under more of a Spell than you can even guess, eh?" He drained his gla.s.s and set it on a nearby table. "In the morning, you will leave. Is that clear?"

"And you are who to enforce this?"

Quentin stiffened, one eyebrow arching in annoyance. "Besides being an Elder, I am your savior. It is well known that your companion was the last person seen with the deceased. It should take little imagination to place you as the murderer. In fact, morning might be too late. Think on my words." He turned and strode away.

Baris stared after him in shock. His words made little sense. Witchery? A spell? Baris shook his head, wondering whatever had possessed him to speak to a Lair Elder the way he had, and went after Deirdre. She seemed eager to be relieved of her dance partner, though he did not seem to share the same feeling. He held to her hand.

"We are not done dancing," he informed Baris, his voice cool and aloof.

"We must be going," Baris returned, making an effort to remain polite. "It is late and we have an early morning."

"Another hour at the most," the young man insisted. "I will take her home."

Baris frowned. "No, thank you. She will come now."

The man pulled Deirdre aside, placing himself between her and Baris. "That is her choice, not yours."

Baris took a deep breath to calm himself and looked past the man to Deirdre. She slipped her hand free and attempted to step around. Her demanding partner blocked her. Anger flitted through Baris and he gripped the man's upper arm in a tight hold, physically moving him aside as if he were no more than a child. He saw surprise flash across the man's face.

"Come, Deirdre," Baris said firmly. "We are leaving." He took her hand and turned away.

"Baris!"

Deirdre's cry of warning was shrill, panicked. Baris whirled, catching a glint of silver as the young man whipped a long, shiny dagger from his belt sheath. Several women nearby screamed and scrambled out of the way. Two fainted and were nearly dragged from the dance floor by their panicked partners. The young man drove forward, the dagger uplifted, anger and determination on his lean face. Baris caught his arm, stopping the dagger's downward path in mid-flight. Pure rage tore through him as he bent the man's arm back, his grip growing tighter and tighter. He heard the bone snap, and his would-be a.s.sa.s.sin shrieked in agony, going white, then limp. The dagger clattered to the floor.

"Enough!" Quentin drew alongside, his face tight with fury. "Leave! Now!" he commanded Baris.

Baris released his hold on the young man, who sagged to the floor, barely conscious, then turned on Quentin, astonishing himself once again at his venom-filled words. "I suggest you check your guest list a little more thoroughly next time. If I could arrive unannounced, it's obvious anyone could. Even sc.u.m like him." He gripped Deirdre's arm and pulled her after him.

They left the house through the front. Baris didn't slow his pace until they were well down the street from the estate. It was only then that he realized he was going in the opposite direction of the inn. He stopped, his breathing hard and fast, his jaw tight with anger. Deirdre looked up at him, then suddenly she began to chuckle. He stared at her in confusion.

"Oh, Baris," she managed through her laughter. "I guess I'm just not high society at all. What a mess I made of things. We will be the talk of the town on the morrow. And it's not the kind of talk I was hoping for. I guess this city is not one that I can hope to put down roots in."

"It is hardly your fault, Deirdre. I was the one who took you in there. I was the one who allowed that pathetic excuse of a man to dance with you. And I was the one who used my strength against him."

"Yes, to rescue me. Again. My brave knight." She rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

He was at once a.s.sailed with the scent of iron and stared at her, his curiosity evident. She nodded.

"I pulled my magic. I thought I might need to use it. But you handled things very well."

He thought back to the other Vector's words. "Deirdre, have you--did you--?"

"Did I what?"

He looked into her eyes, saw the innocence there and shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind. Let's go back to the inn. I want to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! But I thought we were going to go to the play tomorrow night!"

"We cannot. We need to move on." He couldn't stand the look of disappointment in her eyes and he kissed her cheek gently. "I promise you, the next town we enter, we will take in a play. But we cannot stay here."

She sighed but nodded and linked her arm through his. "All right. But remember, you promised."

He grimaced, hoping he could keep that promise, and led her back toward the inn. He wasn't quite sure how to tell her that they were being sought for murder.