Shadowflame Part 27

"By the time I left the town I had killed every man who had a hand in Lizzie's death. I stole their money and clothes, and I broke back into our house long enough to gather a few things. Then I stole a horse and put the town at my back. I made my way to London, where I could disappear into the city. After several months I finally found others of our kind."

"I don't understand," Miranda said. "Why would she bring you across and then disappear like that? I'm a.s.suming she had been in the area long enough to kill those six people and find out all about you. And why you?"

"I have no idea, beloved. I tried to find her, for a while, but no one had ever heard of her. It was probably a fake name, after all. But for some reason, out of all the c.r.a.ppy little villages in England, she chose ours, and out of all the psychic smiths in the world, she chose me."

A blast of thunder rattled the windows, but with the shutters locked down there was no corresponding flash. A thought seemed to occur to Miranda, and she actually grinned. "Your original surname was Smith, wasn't it?"

He smiled at her. "Did you see anything else that involved Lydia?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. It was just a name. It doesn't feel connected to anything else. I wonder if that means she's going to appear at some point. I hope not. I think we have all the drama we need."

"From your lips to G.o.d's ears," David said, and they clinked their cans together. But even as he said the words, David thought about what Deven had said . . . that there was something about Miranda, and their bond, that would ensure that their life together was never peaceful . . . and even if he had been unconvinced of Deven's sincerity, he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that drama was the understatement of the century for whatever they had ahead of them.

After the theatrics of Prime Hart's visit and the angst of Prime Deven's, Miranda braced herself for some kind of bulls.h.i.t surrounding Janousek's arrival. She was ready for him to be an a.s.s, or a s.e.xist pig, or at the very least coldhearted and arrogant.

She wasn't ready for him to be . . . nice.

"Prime Jacob Janousek, at your service," he said, bowing.

Her first thought was that he looked like a young hippie Jesus. He had brown hair falling down past his shoulders, and a neatly trimmed beard; his eyes were a warm brown, intelligent and kind, and held hers without the slightest bit of artifice or disdain. He looked to have been in his midtwenties when he came across; David had mentioned that he was actually in his mid-220s. Aside from his Signet, which was set with amber, he wore a plain gold cross on a chain, but no other jewelry that Miranda could see.

Another thing he didn't have, which surprised her, was a noticeable accent. When she mentioned it, he laughed and said, "I'm no more Eastern European than your Prime is Southern American, my Lady. My ancestors are from the area now known as Slovakia, but in fact I was born in France and lived most of my life here in America. I moved to Prague because of my friendship with the former Prime, and when he died the Signet chose me. Rest a.s.sured, however, I've been there long enough that all of my other languages are accentless as well."

"How many do you speak?" she asked as they all settled in the study for the usual drill of drinks and conversation.

"Seventeen fluently," he replied. "I can fumble my way through another half dozen and find beer and a lavatory in another three."

Miranda looked over at David. "That's more than you speak."

David smiled. "I've lived in the U.S. for a long time. The only two languages I've found necessary to get by here in Texas are American English and Spanish. The rest are just for fun."

The conversation was friendly and tension-free. Miranda didn't even know how to react to a Prime who was simply himself and had no hidden agenda for visiting; he had come because he liked David and wanted to further solidify their alliance, and that was it.

"How is Isis?" Janousek asked.

Miranda had forgotten until that moment that the Friesian had been a gift from the Prime of Eastern Europe; a bribe, David had said. Judging from the enthusiasm with which the two Primes talked about the horses, Miranda thought bribe was the wrong word, though it might have been accurate at the time.

". . . just foaled," Janousek was saying. "An absolutely gorgeous male-I'm hoping he'll be as bright as his sire, just like Isis was . . . but perhaps a bit less willful."

"Why don't we go out to the stables," David said. "We're due another round of storms tomorrow, so this might be the only chance while you're here to take her out, if you like. Miranda has business in the city tonight anyway."

Seeing the glint in the men's eyes, she chuckled. "You two go ahead," she told David as all three of them rose simultaneously. "It was lovely to meet you, Lord Prime. I'm quite pleased to have you as our ally."

Janousek bowed to her again. "Likewise, my Lady. I congratulate you both on winning the Pair lottery."

Miranda left the meeting feeling completely different than she had at any of the previous Magnificent b.a.s.t.a.r.d arrivals; even Tanaka, who had been perfectly well mannered and given no hint that he disliked Miranda, hadn't put her at ease, perhaps because he was so much older and more traditional than Janousek; and his Queen Mameha, though a fascinating person and blindingly intelligent, had been, Miranda freely admitted, intimidating as h.e.l.l.

She met Lali and Aaron outside by the car. "How did it go?" Lali asked.

"Amazingly smoothly," she replied, slipping into the car with her bodyguards and motioning to Harlan to drive on. "I think I may finally have met a Prime I don't want to punch in the head."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Lali said, her ringing laugh filling the car. "Try not to be too disappointed."

"I wish I could be of more help," Jacob said regretfully. "As soon as you asked, I did what digging I could, but you didn't give me much to go on as far as your suspect goes."

"I know." David led the way back to the stables, the two Primes leading the Friesians on a slow walk after their outing; Isis and Osiris were in high spirits, which was more than David could say for himself. He'd known that asking Janousek for information about the a.s.sa.s.sin was a long shot, but still, he'd held out some hope. "You're right, of course. It's not as if you know every vampire who ever came from Finland."

"There aren't a lot," Jacob admitted. "Finland's population is pretty spa.r.s.e. My territory, as you know, isn't the hotbed of vampire activity that yours is. There are practically no vampires north of Latvia, and aside from Prague, Krakow, and Riga, I just don't have that much density. And you know how contentious my borders are."

"I do. I suppose you should be glad that Demetriou has Romania-you don't have to deal with all the Dracula wannabes."

Janousek's territory was small compared to Western Europe's or the Black Sea's; historically the East had been dealt a lot of in-between countries, and the Prime of the Black Sea, who had ruled for longer than almost any other Prime and was known for his insatiable-and somewhat archaic-greed for land, was a constant threat at Janousek's borders. Janousek had managed to bring a tentative peace, but at the last Council Demetriou had made yet another play for Croatia and Hungary. Janousek's good reputation in the Council had helped him keep his hold. Janousek's western border at Austria/the Czech Republic/Poland had been peaceful his entire tenure, but the eastern border was another story entirely.

David knew that part of the reason Jacob was anxious to keep him as an ally was that David's influence in the Council would help him hold his territory together; David didn't hold it against him. If he were Janousek, he'd want David's friendship, too. And if Jacob had been less than a good man with the interests of his people at heart, David would have been happy to leave him to Demetriou's wolves . . . well, that wasn't entirely true. Janousek would have to have been a c.o.c.k on the order of Prime Hart to make David side with Demetriou.

Jacob chuckled. "Demetriou would go after Russia if it weren't for the fact that Dzhamgerchinov scares the devil out of him. Frankly he scares the devil out of me, too."

"I think I'm more frightened by how easily you p.r.o.nounce his name."

Another laugh. "Nonsense. Everyone knows you're not afraid of anything or anyone."

They took the horses into the stable and got them groomed and fed for the night, letting the topic of conversation steer itself back to horses; finally, with the night waning, they headed back to the Haven itself.

"I understand you had a row with Hart," Janousek said as they walked. "Congratulations."

"What did you hear?"

He shrugged. "Just that you rescued one of his harem girls, he slaughtered three more in your Haven, your Queen threw him into a wall, and he slunk home with his tail between his legs. He's b.i.t.c.hing to anyone who will listen, which isn't anyone really, so I would imagine he's got a good case of festering anger up there in New York-if I were you, I wouldn't let him out of my sight."

"I don't intend to. I would like to know who's been killing his Elite, though, if for no other reason than to send them a thank-you card."

"I heard it was the Red Shadow."

"Not unless they've changed their tactics pretty radically in the last few months. I am afraid they're behind what's going on here, though. I don't suppose you know any more about them than the rest of us do?"

Jacob gave him a sidelong look, pausing, before he said, "There is one thing. I doubt it will be of much help to you."

"I'm desperate, Jacob. Give me whatever you have."

He nodded. "I was Prime Horak's Second, as you know. I'm almost a hundred percent certain that back in the 1920s he was acquainted with the Alpha."

"How?"

"Horak never came out and said anything, but Elite are paid to be observant, after all. One night a messenger brought a note to Horak, and the next night one of Horak's human enemies turned up missing except for his left hand. All Horak would tell me was that a friend owed him a 'recruiting bonus.' "

"Recruiting bonus . . . so Horak found someone for the Alpha to hire as an agent, and the Alpha had someone killed for Horak as a reward," David surmised. "Do you remember anything about the note?"

"Horak threw it into the fireplace, but I was mad with curiosity, so I fished out what was left."

David stared at him. "What did it say?"

Janousek smiled and reached into his coat pocket. "You'll have to figure that out for yourself," he said, and handed David a small plastic bag. "I have no idea why I kept it all this time-Prime's instinct, I suppose. That and I admit I'm a bit of a pack rat. I had forgotten all about it until you asked for my help when we spoke last week. I had it stashed away in the archives with everything else from Horak's tenure. It took me hours to find it."

David took the scorched sc.r.a.p of yellowed paper, so old it was crumbling. "My G.o.d."

He turned it over, trying to discern what was written on it. On one side all he could see was a number, 4.19, and the faded remains of a single word; on the other, it looked like there had been some kind of symbol.

"It's probably meaningless. But you're the mad scientist of the Council, so if anyone can make something of it, you can."

"Jacob, I could kiss you," David said.

A grin. "I appreciate the gesture, Lord Prime, but you're really not my type."

"This may be the first solid link we've had to the Alpha, or to the Shadow at all. I'll have it a.n.a.lyzed immediately. Thank you, Jacob."

"I hope it helps."

They had reached the main building, and the guards opened the doors for them.

"Now then," Janousek said, "I was wondering, Lord Prime-does your Haven have a chapel?"

David was too distracted by the paper in his hand to be surprised by the question. "Yes-it's in the South Wing. I can take you there now if you like."

"I would appreciate that."

David led the way down the hall. "I doubt ours is as nice as yours," he told Janousek.

"Nice is relative," Jacob replied. "But it's not stained gla.s.s and stone that matter, it's what's inside-what you can't see-that counts."

"This way." David showed him down a long corridor in the South Wing to a pair of double doors with a stained-gla.s.s inset flickering with candlelight.

David knew that some of the Elite used the chapel for weekly services; he'd been in the room only once or twice, but he remembered it being a fairly simple s.p.a.ce with a peaceful atmosphere, pretty but not pretentious. It had been built without any specific iconography, like a military chapel, so that pract.i.tioners of multiple faiths could use it. The far end of the room was oriented east, so even the four or five Muslim Elite he employed found it useful.

He didn't expect anyone to be inside now, but an Elite stood at the door; he recognized her as Elite 29, who had been a.s.signed as Cora's main bodyguard because she was fluent in Italian. Cora had no idea how closely she was being watched; David had instructed the guards to keep their distance and let her come and go mostly as she pleased, but he had learned the hard way when Miranda had first come to the Haven that even with a com on her wrist, she could be vulnerable.

"Sire," the Elite said with a bow. "I hope this isn't a problem-there were no scheduled services and Miss Cora likes to come here."

"No problem at all," David told her. "Prime Janousek wanted to pay a visit."

He turned to the Prime. "The woman we offered asylum from Hart, Cora, is in there now; she's a bit shy of strangers, especially men."

Janousek nodded, understanding. "I'll wait out here, then, until she's done. I would hate to frighten her in the middle of her prayers."

"If you don't mind, then, I'll take my leave for the morning-I need to meet Faith and get this to my lab."

"I don't mind at all. I plan to spend an hour with G.o.d and then retire for the day. We'll speak again at sunset, of course."

"Thank you, Jacob."

David started to walk away, but the chapel door opened and Cora emerged.

She saw them and made a faint yelping sound, moving to duck back into the chapel.

"It's all right, Cora," David said quickly in Italian. "I was just leaving, and our guest wanted to use the chapel when you were finished. There's no hurry."

Cora swallowed hard and nodded. He noticed she looked a hundred times better than when she'd come to the Haven; he'd barely looked at her when he had raced into the yoga studio to answer the call of Miranda's distress, but she did look healthier, and even as frightened as she obviously was, she made eye contact with him.

Or at least, she did for a second. Her attention was pulled from him to Prime Janousek, who David realized was staring at her, wide-eyed.

She stared right back.

Suddenly David remembered where he had seen that thunderstruck expression before.

Sure enough, as Janousek opened his mouth to attempt to speak, the amber stone of his Signet flared once, twice . . . and began to flash.

Cora didn't understand why this man was looking at her as if she were some kind of ghost, but she knew one thing: As soon as she saw him, she was irresistibly drawn to him . . . and the only thing she could think to do was run.

The two men didn't chase her, not that it mattered; this was the Prime's house, and she had no right to run away, even if there was anyplace she could go that he couldn't follow. But still, she ran, as hard and fast as she could, until she had gained the safety of her room, flung herself backward against the door, and burst into tears.

Her mind and heart were spinning so fast she could barely breathe. The man's kind eyes were burned into her skull, inviting . . . something . . . some part of her that she hadn't even known existed rising up and reaching out . . .

She panicked, her breath coming in hoa.r.s.e gasps, her only identifiable desire to hide. She ended up curled in a ball on the far side of the bed, wishing she could shrink into nothing.

What was happening? Who was he? What did he want with her? And why did she want to . . . what did she want?

She had been praying, feeling peaceful and at rest, almost . . . dared she say it . . . happy. Her guard had shown her the chapel a few days ago, and she had loved its simplicity: stone walls, a few stained-gla.s.s panels with electric lights behind them that cast a soft glow over the movable pews. The panels were images of the countryside where the Haven stood, night time images in blue and purple. A cabinet on one wall contained the trappings of several religions, and her guard had shown her where to find a painted resin statue of the Virgin to place on the altar, along with a cloth and some candles. The only rule was that she had to put things away when she was done.

Now her peace was shattered, and she prayed again, mumbling into her crossed arms, asking G.o.d to help her . . . whatever this was . . . please, make it go away. Make him go away.

G.o.d didn't seem to be listening, however. There was a soft knock at the door.

She couldn't speak, not even when a voice called, "Cora?"

She buried her head in her arms, hoping he would leave, but a moment later she heard the door open and footsteps approaching her.

"Cora," he said gently in her language, "you don't have to be afraid."

She lifted her head. "Who are you?"

He had settled cross-legged a few feet away from her, leaving plenty of room but close enough that he didn't have to raise his voice to be heard. "My name is Jacob," he said. "I am the Prime of Eastern Europe."

She stared at the Signet around his neck. It was still flashing, but not as brightly, now that it had their attention. "I don't understand what this means."

He nodded. "I had a feeling you didn't."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, and she was struck by the overwhelming feeling that she knew him, though she had never seen him before tonight. Her fear, as habitual a response as it was, was fighting with a strange, new curiosity, wondering how she recognized the way his nose crinkled when he smiled.

"Do you know what Signets are for?" he asked her. She knew a little, but she couldn't make herself speak, and she shook her head mutely. "They are a badge of office to show the world who the strongest vampires are, but they choose their bearers themselves. It's magic as old as the world-there are even some vague references from biblical times. When a Signet finds its Prime, it flashes and continues to glow . . . and then when that Prime finds his Queen, it flashes again."