Deamon's Daughter Part 22

Pleasure was all she'd asked for, and pleasure was what she got. In strict point of fact, she'd gotten more.

I deserve more, she protested to herself. No matter what I said out loud. No matter if I did chase him.

"You'll be there, won't you?" his mother was saying, snapping Roxanne's face back into focus.

Roxie stared at her slack-jawed.

"There, there, dear." Varya reached across the table to pat her hand. "There's no need to look so surprised by the invitation. I know matters area somewhat irregular between you and my son, but we are on the cusp of a new century. As long as you and Adrian intend to treat each other with respect, I don't see why his father and I can't attempt to be modern. After all, there's no telling whether you'll want to do it up proper someday. Don't you agree, dear?"

On being addressed directly, Adrian's father turned his weather-worn blue gaze toward Roxie, his smile both undemanding and kind. Under other circ.u.mstances, it would have warmed her. This morning, she was so distressed she could scarcely comprehend what his wife had said.

"That's enough, Mother." Adrian's voice was soft but firm. He laid his hand on Roxie's neck beneath her braid and squeezed the knotted tendons there. He might have been strangling her for all the good it did.

"Did I say something wrong?" Varya's eyes were glinting with sudden tears.

"I think Roxie is a bit overwhelmed."

"Yes," she agreed faintly because she knew she couldn't sit there like a stone, even if her tongue did feel as thick and slow as when she'd been drugged. "Just a bit."

"But you'll bring her to the baby's welcoming, won't you?" Varya's mouth quivered as Adrian tugged Roxie from her seat. She looked genuinely stricken. Roxie was confused by a sudden urge to comfort the woman. "You know everyone would love to see you. I'm sure they'd do everything possible to make Miss McAllister feel at home."

"We'll see," Adrian said, hugging Roxanne protectively to his side.

But it wasn't his mother she needed protection from. She felt numb as he led her back to the market square. She'd thought she was coming to mean more to him. He'd as much as said he didn't want her seeing other men. He'd lost his job over her, over Charles and Max. Sadly, his feelings appeared to run just so deep and no deeper. He didn't want her in his parents' house. He didn't want her meeting his siblings.

Frowning, she let him steer her to the stone jetty behind the spice carts. He urged her to sit. The crowds were beginning to thicken with wives and servants. Here, behind the business side of things, no one would pay them any mind. Heaven forbid they should make a scene.

Clearly, Adrian had had enough of doing that.

He stood before her, stroking her cheek with his knuckles. "I'm sorry, Roxie. My mother rarely thinks before she speaks. I hope she didn't embarra.s.s you too badly."

Roxie looked at her hands. That other woman wore his ring, she thought. She was Mrs. Philips.

"I'm afraid she is usually like that," Adrian said, "but you'll get used to it eventually."

"Will I?" she asked, surprised by how calm she sounded. "And will I get used to the fact that you were married, too?"

"Roxanne." He sat beside her on the wall and wrapped her hand between his own. "Let me explain."

"No." She pulled her hand away. "I don't want to hear. It's perfectly obvious I'm not important enough to be entrusted with the most basic facts of your personal history."

"That's not true!" He circled her with both arms. "You're very important. You're everything to me." His voice sank, roughened by emotion. "I love you."

She wanted to believe him, but who knew what he meant by those words? As far as she could tell, the only thing he stood to lose was an interesting bed partner.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because his mouth tightened with anger. "It isn't fair of you to doubt me," he said. "I might not have told you all the gory details of my past, but I never gave you reason to question my word."

"Haven't you?"

"No, I haven't. Everything I've ever promised I've done. My failure to be completely forthright might prove I'm cowardly, but not that I'm dishonest. For G.o.d's sake, I wanted you to meet my parents. Would I have done that if I weren't serious?"

"You wanted me to meet them? I thought you were just too dutiful to refuse."

"Hardly," he said with a m.u.f.fled snort, "as you'll discover once you get to know me a bit better."

"Buta""

"You're arguing," he said, the corners of his mouth beginning to turn up. "You shouldn't do that with a man in love."

She pressed her steepled hands to her lips, feeling dangerously close to tears. Before she could collect the power to speak, Adrian stiffened.

"h.e.l.l," he said, his gaze narrowing at something on the lower end of the street. "Our little demon friends are back."

Chapter 23.

The finest victories are won without ever drawing one's sword.

a"The Collected Sayings of the Emperor When Roxanne would have turned, Adrian caught her arm.

"Don't look," he cautioned, low and steady. "I don't want them knowing they've been seen."

Not turning seemed the hardest thing she'd ever done, but she forced herself to hold Adrian's warm gray gaze. "How many are there?"

"Four." As if nothing were wrong, he stood and smiled down at her. "Unfortunately, I can't guarantee the other two aren't around somewhere. I'm going to help you up now. It's broad daylight, and there are plenty of witnesses. You and I are going to stroll calmly to the next watch post, where we'll enlist the aid of the sergeant on duty."

"What if no one's there?" Roxie asked as he tucked her arm through his and began to walk.

Adrian's smile twisted grimly. "If no one's there, we'll throw caution to the winds and run."

Roxie didn't want to remind him only one of them could outrace a demon, not when he was working so hard to calm her. But perhaps he planned to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to safety like the fire brigade. The thought tweaked her humor, though she was too uneasy to laugh. Her neck felt stiff, her hands icy.

They turned up a narrow street, one that led away from the river. The pavement was worn but swept, kept clean by the local shopkeepers. Every window they pa.s.sed tempted her to check for their followers' reflections. As they pa.s.sed one filled with sausages, Adrian hugged her arm.

"They're still behind us," he murmured, though she couldn't tell how he'd seen. "They're holding back. They must not know we've spotted them."

A dog barked territorially from an alley, not a stray but a good-sized pet, straining to the end of the rope that held it bound. Its teeth looked sharp. Roxie wondered which species the canine would prefer to bite. Whichever was closer, most likely.

"Just a bit farther," Adrian said. "Then we're home free."

His claim had no chance to be tested. As they approached the next cross street, an electric automobile rolled slowly into the intersection, its engine eerily silent. Once there, it stopped. Long as a hea.r.s.e and just as black, the car's soundless appearance filled Roxie with foreboding. The car did not look like a vehicle human hands had made. It was too shiny and perfect, too regular and smooth. In place of windows, its sides had small round mirrors. Whoever sat inside could not be seen.

Adrian stopped and rubbed his chin, obviously stymied by this behemoth blocking their way.

"This isn't good," Roxie said.

"Don't panic," Adrian said. "We'll try going around."

He was beginning to peer down the cross street when a hollow sound brought both their attention back. A door had opened in the black car's previously seamless side. Her father's leonine head leaned out, his hair blazing incongruously in the sun. His face was blank but oddly urgent, or perhaps Roxanne imagined the urgency. No doubt she felt enough of it for them both.

"Hurry," Herrington said, gesturing. "Get in before they catch up."

Roxie retreated instead, looking back the way they'd come. To her dismay, the other daimyo were at the bottom of the street, still wearing their navy and gray rohn robes. They had stopped in their tracks, not speaking, not reacting. Perhaps they couldn't decide what to do any more than she.

"Don't be stupid," her father said, actually sounding angry. "They mean you no good."

Roxie was far from prepared to a.s.sume any different of him, but another head leaned around his too-broad shoulder. This time, she gasped in horror. Charles was with him, looking pale but more or less calm.

"It's all right," he said, though he didn't seem quite convinced. "Max and I are both here."

A rage of almost frightening strength surged through her veins, all the more intense for being impotent. Herrington had her boys. Herrington was using her boys to get to her.

"We have to go with him," Adrian said, caressing the fist she hadn't known she'd made. "If he has the boys, we have to go with him."

"d.a.m.n it."

"I can't fight him," Adrian said. "Not in that car."

She went, though she didn't want to, because she knew Adrian was right. The demon car might as well have been a fortress. All Herrington had to do was shut the door to keep them out. To her surprise, he was driving, with Charles on the seat next to him. Max sat on one of a pair of padded leather benches in the cool, cavernous back. From inside, the funny round mirrors were transparent. The windows at the front and rear were larger, but, aside from that, they were enclosed in unnaturally smooth black metal. Lights whose purpose she could not fathom blinked on the strange instrument panel. As soon as she slid across the rearmost seat, Max clambered into her lap.

Knowing he was safe made her feel a fraction better.

"It's all right," he whispered, his little hand patting hers. "We're going to swim in your papa's pool and look at statues."

Roxie didn't know how to respond to what must have been the bribe that disarmed Max's natural distrust. Hugging him close, she kissed his bristly hair. The car rolled backward with the same uncanny silence of its approach, then began to turn. Roxie tried to stop shaking.

"I can't believe you'd involve Max in this," she said to the back of her father's head, her tone not quite as level as she wished. "He's a little boy. What if they try to take him again?"

Her father jerked. "Again?" Something in his inflection told her once and for all that he'd been behind Max's removal to the Ministry. "Those men aren't after him," he said, his hands working the leather-wrapped wheel around. "They're after you."

Roxie fell back against the seat, shocked by his words, though perhaps she shouldn't have been.

"You know who they are?" Adrian asked, almost as composed as her monstrous sire.

"They're agents of an a.s.sociate of mine. I expect they want to take her in for medical observation."

"An a.s.sociate?" Roxanne repeated, bubbling with outrage.

"Perhaps you would say a rival. I regret I couldn't warn you sooner. I only received word that he was planning to abduct you an hour ago."

So not last night, Roxie thought, wishing that didn't mean anything to her. He might have used Max as a p.a.w.n, but if what her father said was true, he couldn't have warned her and Adrian of the first attack against them.

"Your daddy is going to protect you," Max announced in a whisper everyone could hear. "He says our home isn't safe."

Roxanne's sole response to that was a curse.

"Shush," said Charles. "We're rolling by them now."

They were indeed. The four demons watched impa.s.sively as Herrington eased past them at a leisurely, horse-carriage pace. Though she knew little of Yamish ways, their progress felt like a ritual, a parade to mark a bloodless victory. The car was impregnable, the enemy outmaneuvered. To drive away any faster would have been undignified.

Either that, or Herrington wanted to rub the demons' noses in their defeat.

She clenched her jaw as four pairs of all-silver eyes followed their departure. The last flickered his tongue in parting. Roxie shuddered and turned away.

"You might say 'thank you,'" Herrington suggested.

"Ha," she said. "Don't hold your breath."

His daughter's retort was to be expected. She was half-human and, consequently, had not been raised to perceive the currents that could lie beneath a seemingly smooth surface. She believed Herrington's methods had put Max at risk and didn't think to wonder what end he'd been working towarda"if it might not be for the good of all. She believed him heartless and did not imagine her words could hurt. Perhaps they shouldn't have hurt. Sadly, Herrington could not deny they did.

Wanting her to be his daughter in truth had made him vulnerable. He wasn't the least bit certain he liked the effect.

At least her lover deigned to speak to him. Possibly, the prejudice he'd been subjected to following the installation of his implants had made him less judgmental of others. Herrington had been quite interested to unearth this detail of Philips's past, had hoped it might mean his daughter was broad-minded, had even regretted the necessity of getting Philips fired so as to make Roxie less reliant on his support. That the ploy had not worked only increased his respect for the man. He had not thought a human capable of his loyalty. Had Roxie been a member of a lesser bloodline than his own, the former policeman would have been an adequate candidate for marriage.

Not that his daughter was likely to ask his approval.

Herrington fought a grimace as they followed the sandy coastal road toward the Downs. Philips was leaning over the front seat, watching the landscape. That was fine with Herrington. He preferred the man not read his inner turmoil.

"When you mentioned 'medical observation,'" Philips said now, "I gather you don't mean The Dragon wanted to ran a few tests and then let her go."

His knowledge startled Herrington. "How do you know about The Dragon?"

Adrian's shrug was admirably unrevealing. "People talk."

"So they do." Herrington steered his lovely Yamish saloon car around a hole in the road. Seated up front, the older boy, Charles, watched the procedure with interest. Herrington could catch h.e.l.l for driving this car in publica"it was beyond the fechnology humans were supposed to be aware they hada"but Herrington sincerely doubted he cared. The thing was a b.l.o.o.d.y tank, and the only vehicle fast enough to have gotten him to Awar in time to help.

"Well?" said Philips, still waiting for his question to be answered.

"The examination would not be brief," Herrington conceded, though it went against his nature to answer directly. "Chances are, if she fell into The Dragon's hands, she wouldn't be seen again in Awar."

That she might not be seen again anywhere he kept to himself. No need to frighten the girl.

"Why?" Roxie said, making his heart leap at the sound of her voice. He risked a glance at her in his back view mirror. For an instant, her eyes were wrenchingly familiar, despite their human surround of whites. She could have been his sister, Louise, staring at him in challenge. Why can't I? she'd liked to say. Don't you think I'm as clever as you? Herrington hoped his daughter was clever enough to reach a loftier age than Louise. Hie little boy was half asleep on her shoulder, the trust between them tightening his throat. When she caught him staring, the frown she shot at him was dark. Quite clearly, she begrudged the need to have anything to do with him.

"Why would anyone care enough to study me?" she asked more insistently. "I'm not that different from other humans. A little stronger maybe, but that's it."

"Knowledge is power," Herrington answered. "To the Yama, the fact that you exist, when truthfully you should not, makes you interesting enough. Plus, you might be more different than you suspect."

"Then why not ask permission to examine me? See if I'd cooperate. Surely encouraging the abduction of human citizens isn't your government's policy."

Herrington almost had to clear his throat. "Not its official policy, no." He succ.u.mbed to the need to sigh. After this morning, he was ent.i.tled. "The problem is, unofficial or not, The Dragon can't be doing this alone. There's organization behind this, and money. I don't know if the person backing him is someone I can counter, or if his support comes from the highest ranks."

"Like your prince," Philips suggested, surprising him again.