“Will you show the traitors any mercy?” The council chose well when they picked Pallas to coerce Daedalus into action. His brother knew how to push his buttons.
“No.”
“Good, if you do, I’ll be forced to kill you, and I wouldn’t want to make Sugar cry.”
Chapter Seven
For years Sugar had been nocturnal so she could spend more time with Daedalus, but her recovery had required a daylight schedule for rehab, so her internal clock still woke her with the sunrise.
She stared at Daedalus’s profile as he rested at her side. If she shook him, he’d wake. He said younger vampires like Clementine would remain unconscious, but his clan required the ability to fight if needed.
Even after thousands of years, his face remained that of a twenty-year-old’s. What had his life been like before he was taken by vampires? He would have been considered middle-aged. Had he left behind a wife and children when he’d been changed?
He used to own wigs to hide his pointed ears so he could pass for human. Now with vampires and shifters as legal citizens of the world, he’d thrown the wigs away. She ran the back of her finger over the smooth skin of his head. He complained that she had shut him out, but had he ever truly let her in?
Sighing, she rolled away and sat on the edge of the bed. Things would have to change. Enough hurt feelings lay between her and Daedalus. He wanted their relationship as it was before her injuries, but that was impossible. They had to forge ahead into uncharted waters and find new ground to build their relationship. She had to break down the walls she’d built between them, and he would have to open the door to his past.
Her stomach growled. She would find something to eat and waste a few hours before trying to nap once more. Flipping back to night hours would take time.
With practiced ease, she dressed then exited the bedroom, cane in hand. The Vasi should be around, or maybe the strange Stephen, to point her to the kitchen. Each of her cane’s clicks echoed in the silence. She didn’t remember the mansion being so big and…empty.
The mahogany walls reflected the lamp lights as she flipped the switches on her journey. If someone wanted to find her, they would only have to follow her trail of illuminated fixtures. She hesitated by a set of iron doors, but they were locked. It wouldn’t surprise her to find an armory on the other side. She continued her search, and after the third turn and a staircase, she discovered the front foyer but no kitchen. She perched on the edge of a decorative chair and caught her breath. Her days of jogging were long gone.
“Hello?” she called out and listened to her voice ricochet through the halls. Where were her friends? She’d brought them to help protect Daedalus, but she wouldn’t mind a little company at the moment.
Her stomach snarled this time. She glared at it. “I’m doing my best.”
“Who are you speaking with?” Pallas ducked around a corner, sending a sharp shiver of fear over her limbs.
Her appetite vanished. “N-no one.” His gaze didn’t carry any warmth. Where her lover was hot with passion, Pallas seemed cold with death. “Do you know where the Vasi are?”
“Running errands.
She blinked. “What are you doing awake? The sun has risen.”
He shrugged. “I’ve slept enough these last centuries. Daedalus’s home is shielded quite well from sunlight.” He held a television remote in his hand. “Would you know how to work this thing?”
She gave him a weary smile. “Sure.” What would it be like to awaken hundreds of years in the future? “When did you go to, ah, sleep?” She followed him into the den and studied the remote. It was standard cable, so easy to work.
The television came on with a flash. Some documentary on the herds of the African savannah played. “What do you want to watch?” Twisting her head, she started at Pallas’s expression.
Eyes wide, he stared as if mesmerized, a childish smile on his face. “This is fine.” He sat in the armchair, leaning forward. “The sky is so blue.”
She returned her attention to the TV so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t imagine never seeing the sun again or feeling its warmth. She cleared her throat and pointed at the remote. “If you toggle this button up or down, it will change the channel.”
He nodded as she set it by the armchair, his gazed fixed on the screen.
“Can you point me in the direction of the kitchen?”
“Left out this door, take the hall to the end, then make a right.”
She limped to the door.
“Why aren’t you asleep with your master?” He tossed this question almost absently, but after living in close quarters with his brother, she knew such things were never innocent.
“I don’t know who you are speaking of. I have no master.” She could see his grin before he twisted to face her with it. Jerk.
“Stay and entertain me.” He gestured to the chair next to him.
“I’m hungry.”
“I’ll retrieve some food for you.” Before she could decline his offer, he vanished in a blaze of speed, sending her long hair fluttering in his wake.
She thumped her cane against the hardwood floor. The last person she wanted to spend time with was Pallas. She settled in the other armchair, her cane easily accessible, and watched a lion snare a gazelle by the throat. Too bad the gazelle wasn’t better armed to defend itself.
Was she capable of fighting off a Nosferatu? No. She didn’t think any of them could, even with all the training Daedalus drilled into the Vasi. Pallas’s little display of speed proved her assumption.
A breeze tugged at her hair once more, and Pallas set a tray of cheese with crackers, an assortment of fruits, and a full glass of red wine. “I recall these being a popular combination.”
It was early for wine, but what the hell. When in Rome… She took a sip while watching Pallas channel surf. “All this technology must be odd.”
He shrugged. “I’ll adjust as I have in the past.” He paused on a commercial about erectile dysfunction. “It might take a little longer this time.”
“You’ve hibernated before?”
“Yes. It’s not always been by choice.”
“Has Daedalus?”
He raised one eyebrow in her direction. “You should ask him.”
She popped cheese in her mouth and ignored him. He’d stopped channel surfing on a cooking show.
“Why are you still human?”
She gasped, and a crumb of cheese flew into her windpipe. Coughing, she cleared her airway, yet Pallas continued as if he hadn’t noticed.
“Daedalus doesn’t want you to become a vampire?” He leaned forward, chin in hand. “He’s very particular about making fledglings.”
“You should ask him.” She growled out her answer and emptied her glass with a few deep gulps.
He gave her a crooked grin. From under the table, Pallas produced the wine bottle and filled her glass. “You can’t blame my curiosity. I’ve never known Daedalus to fall for anyone, let alone a human. I would have thought he’d change you to vampire after your…affliction.” He gestured to her weak side. “How did that happen?”
She sighed. It used to hurt to speak about it. Memories of that day still weighed heavily on her shoulders, but the sting had faded with time. “A year ago a pack from China came to Chicago, searching for Katrina. She had escaped from them when she was young, and they wanted her back for breeding.”
It had been just after lunch in the brownstone. Eric and Spice were in the bedroom arguing about starting a family. Spice wanted to have pups, and Eric feared bringing children into a shifter world. Why they bothered to fight behind closed doors was beyond her. The neighbors down the street probably could have heard them. The noise hadn’t been loud enough to mask the front door being kicked down though.