Shrugging, I followed Danaus up the front stairs and into the house, trying to ignore the way the air seemed to tingle around me. Too much magic in the air, too much old magic in this hallowed isle.
I noticed that he didn’t bother to knock, but walked into the foyer. Without pause, he continued down the hall to a door on the left of the stairs that led to the second floor. He had been here before.
The building was the typical English town house, with shining hardwood floors and Oriental rugs. The paintings on the walls were of hunting scenes and wild gardens set up against dark woods. There were no photographs of family and friends. I reached out and found only one other person in the house; a man, extremely nervous. I couldn’t stop the smile that lifted my lips, leaving the tips of my fangs poking out just below. Danaus paused with his hand on the brass-handled double doors and looked back at me. He felt the slight sweep of power as I searched the house, and frowned. I like to think he knew better than to ask me to behave.
Pushing open the two doors, we stepped into a brightly lit library. The man sitting behind the desk jumped at the sound of the doors opening but quickly covered it up by rising to his feet. He was wearing a dark brown suit with a creamy white shirt and brown patterned tie. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses was perched on his sharp, straight nose.
I laughed. I laughed so hard and deep that I leaned forward on Danaus’s shoulder, my hand pressed to my stomach. This was not what I had expected. My experience with Themis was Danaus and hunters like him. I had naturally assumed this was a trained group of assassins; cold, hardened mercenaries. The confused man standing behind the large desk looked like a librarian. Still laughing, I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He sucked in a harsh breath as the power layered beneath the laughter brushed against him like a cat wanting affection. Interesting. He shouldn’t have been able to feel that unless he had some experience with magic.
Then I stopped laughing. It was like I flipped a switch. One moment my laughter filled the room, and then it was gone. There was no gentle ebbing of the sound, just complete silence, except for the man’s harsh breathing. I glanced at Danaus. No frowns. No glares. No unspoken warnings. In fact, his face was completely expressionless. I almost started laughing again. In his own way, he had given me the green light to have some fun. He, of course, would try to rein me in if I went too far, but until we reached that point, I had carte blanche.
“Enough games,” I announced with a weary air, still leaning on Danaus. “I’ve had my laugh, but we don’t have time for this. Where is the contact from Themis?”
“I–I am from Themis,” the man, still standing, stammered, lifting his chin a little higher into the air.
“I don’t want to talk to its accountant.”
“I am a full-fledged member of Themis and have been for almost ten years.” His voice gained strength as anger crowded his words. His brown eyes flicked to Danaus for half a breath before jumping back to me, as if urging the hunter to speak up.
“Really?” My gaze swept over the room. The library was a nice large room, with floor-to-ceiling dark wood shelves running the length of two of the walls. Floor lamps with beaded fringe shades stood guarding the four corners, beating back the darkness to its hiding place behind the sofa and under the large desk at the opposite end of the room. What little could be seen of the walls revealed a deep hunter green that was also in the Persian rugs that covered the hardwood floor.
I stepped around Danaus and approached the desk. Behind me, I heard the hunter step out of the line of fire to the plaid-patterned sofa that rested near the back wall.
The librarian tensed, but he didn’t back up, as I strolled closer. “In what capacity do you serve Themis?”
“I’m a researcher, like most members of Themis.”
“Most?” I turned sideways so I could look at Danaus, who was watching me. “What about Danaus? It was my impression that you were all like him.”
“Oh, no,” he said. He shook his head as a condescending smile lifted his thin lips. “Danaus is part of a small group of enforcers within Themis.”
“Don’t you mean trained murderers?” I corrected, my words cracking across his chest like a whip. This time he flinched. He tried to take a step backward, but ended up falling back into his chair. He paled and struggled to form words. His eyes darted over to Danaus as if seeking protection, but his enforcer never moved.
“We have to protect ourselves,” the librarian said at last.
“You’ve had creatures killed that were no threat to you,” I said evenly. I paused beside one of the pair of chairs positioned in front of his desk, my hand resting on the back.
“You’ve killed humans!” he said.
“Humans kill other humans every day in order to survive.” I shrugged my slim shoulders as I strolled closer, my hand slipping off the chair.
“But you feed on us.”
A smile flitted across my lips as images of Michael danced through my thoughts for a moment. “Only those who permit me.”
“But—”
“In two days, she’s fed at least twice.” Danaus’s presence and his deep voice almost cast a shadow over the room; a part of me wanted to step back into that bit of darkness. “No one has died.”
“That’s impossible!” the man said, jumping to his feet and slamming his palms on the empty surface of the desk. His eyes were wide and glittering in the bright light. “You just haven’t seen the bodies. It has been well documented that vampires must kill their prey to sustain their existence. It’s not really the blood they survive on, but the death that gives them power.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. He sounded like he was quoting from a textbook. “How long have you studied my kind?” I inquired, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.
“Themis has watched vampires for almost three centuries.”
“And how many have you spoken to?”
“Personally? None.” His voice lost some of its confidence and he sat back down again, seemingly shaken. His brows were gathered over his nose and his lips were pressed into a thin frown. “Until now.”
“What about the others?”
“We don’t talk to vampires. It’s…too dangerous. You…kill,” he said, struggling to find the words.
Smiling again, I paced around the desk until I was standing behind his chair. He twisted around so he was looking at me. Folding my hands on the back of his chair, I rested my chin on my hands. His fear was so thick and heavy I could taste it. My eyelids drifted closed and I drew in a deep breath, letting his fear swirl around me like an expensive perfume.
“So, you’ve decided to slaughter my kind based on myths and false information.”
“But—But you kill,” he said, as if it was the answer to everything.
“So do you,” I whispered, staring deep into his eyes before I continued the circuit around to the front of the desk. Walking over to Danaus, I removed my sunglasses and hooked them over the top button of my blouse. I could feel the librarian relax in his chair as I moved away from him. Putting my right knee on the sofa next to Danaus’s left hip, I sat down beside him, throwing my left leg across his lap. His hands remained limp at his side. He didn’t touch me, but, more important, he didn’t push me off away either. I leaned close, putting my left arm across his chest, resting my hand on his shoulder. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see the other man watching us closely, his forehead furrowed with a look of absolute confusion and shock.