Stephen fiddled with a key ring, trying each one unsuccessfully.
She pressed her hands against the cold metal. “Why the security?”
“Knowledge is power, and Daedalus likes power.” Pallas plucked the key ring from Stephen’s hands and singled out the plainest. “Try this one.”
“What kind of knowledge are we talking about?” She fought the urge to snatch the key from Stephen as she watched him struggle with the fucking lock.
The muscles on his forearm strained with the effort to twist.
“Careful, don’t break it.” Dangling the promise of reading treasured books that required iron doors and locks, then stealing it from her, would send her over the proverbial edge that Stephen had mentioned in the kitchen.
With a clank, the lock opened, and Stephen breathed a sigh of relief. “Never been in this room.”
She pushed past him and twisted the handle. “Why ever not?” The question came out as a whisper.
Musty air swept over her face. Darkness barred her from seeing any further than where the light from the hallway landed on the wooden floor.
Pallas gripped her shoulders. “Easy, let me investigate first.” He squeezed between her and Stephen with a small flashlight in hand. Where it had come from she couldn’t imagine. The bright stream touched upon overstuffed chairs, wooden tables, then the walls before stopping on the switch close to the doors. Pallas flipped it, and a massive chandelier lit the room.
Her mouth hung open, and she could only manage a garbled noise of excitement. She shoved Stephen to the side and entered for the full affect.
The circular room was lined with wooden shelves brimming over with books and scrolls. She ran her gaze over the curving staircase that led to a second floor lined with more shelves. “I think I died and went to heaven.” If not for the cane, she would have skipped in glee.
Pallas systematically searched the room from shadow to shadow while Stephen pulled a chair away from the closest table.
She waved it away. “Are you kidding?” Striding as quickly as she could, she laid her fingertips on a set of aged, leather-bound books.
“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll bring them to you?” He set his hands under her elbows, guiding her back to the chair. “You can’t carry it safely with your cane.”
A knot formed in her chest as she drew away from the shelf. He was right, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. She plopped on the chair and tossed her cane against the table.
Stephen rubbed his hands together. “Do you want to start with this one?” He pointed to the book she’d been caressing and opened it.
She bent across the table with her good arm. “Careful. It looks old and might crumble with rough treatment.”
With deliberate care, he set it in front of her. “It’s not English.”
From the smell of the paper she knew it was old. She brushed the tips of her fingers over the ink. She couldn’t read a word. Sighing, she leaned against the back as disappointment weighed her heart.
“Give me a chance to look around. Maybe I’ll find something for you to read.” Not waiting for her response, Stephen scurried away. He reminded her of Eric when they’d first met. Eager to please, staying in the background not wanting much attention. Did she have the strength to pull another omega under her wing?
She chuckled. From the way he hovered around her, the tables were turned and Stephen wanted to help her instead.
Pallas popped from behind a shelf, stalking the aisle before climbing the staircase. “I don’t like this. Daedalus shouldn’t attack until he can coordinate simultaneous assaults on the houses. This leaves us vulnerable.”
“That could take forever, Pallas. His nest is scattered.” She watched as he circled the room along the balcony framing the second floor. “What are you looking for?”
“Defensible positions.” He leaped over the railing and landed in front of her.
All the air left her lungs. “Don’t do that!”
He smirked. “My bones are tempered by time. I don’t break.” He closed and locked the library doors. “We’ll stay here until the others return. This room has one doorway and no windows.”
“Or a bathroom.” She rested her chin on her hand. “Are you expecting trouble?”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like surprises. Better to be prepared than caught with your pants down.”
“I highly doubt that’s ever happened to you.” The tremble in her voice annoyed her. Where Stephen was trying to keep her calm, Pallas was making her nervous.
Sweat made the palms of her hands slippery as she gripped the arms of her chair. Dark memories slipped past her defenses. Yellowed eyes glared at her from within her thoughts before an echoed snarl startled her back to reality. Breathing hard, she blinked as the library came into focus. It had been awhile since she’d been blindsided by the traumatic recollections of her attack.
“No, it hasn’t.”
“W-what?” She cleared her throat.
“I’ve never been caught with my pants down.” He placed a set of wooden stakes on the table. “These are in case we get attacked, not if I piss you off.” Their gazes met, and he winked.
The cold claws of fear sank deeper in her spine. “Do you really think we’ll be attacked?” If Daedalus had confidence in Pallas to guard her, then so should she. Right? Most of her roommates had been home when the Asian pack had attacked, yet she’d still sustained the worst injuries. Her eyes wandered to her paralyzed hand tucked in her sweater’s deep pocket. Collateral damage.
“Whatever you and your friends think, this is war. Unlike humans, vampires don’t require bombs and armies. Daedalus is taking back his territory tonight. Anything is possible.” He rested his hand over hers. “Which is why he left me here to protect you. I’ll do my job.”
She took a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you.”
“I do this out of fear, not the goodness of my heart.” He laughed out loud, and it echoed within the room. “Daedalus can be quite creative when angered. If anything happens to you, I will suffer for a very long time.”
“He loves me.” Setting her hand over her chest, she steadied her breathing. Her statement wasn’t a brag, but more of a reminder of what she had to live for. She’d finally dragged her head out of her ass and recognized what she was about to lose. It only took her lover placing his life in danger to do it.
Pallas settled in a chair next to her, facing the door. “Why would you deny Daedalus his Prima?”
She ground her teeth. “What, pray tell, is a Prima? Then I can explain why he can’t have her.” Like she would share? She wanted to shake Pallas until he spoke plainly, instead of in cryptic hints. One didn’t assault a Nosferatu and expect no repercussions.
His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “You would be, if you’d become vampire. Daedalus never spoke to you of this?”
Leaning forward, she supported her weak side against the table. “He told me females couldn’t become Nosferatu.”
Pallas laughed. “They can’t. A Prima is the vampire wife of a Nosferatu Prime.”
“A regular vampire, like Clementine?” She tugged at her earlobe, an embarrassing habit from childhood that she did when thinking. To cover the move, she tucked some hair behind her ear. “I’ve never heard of the term Prima.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. There never have been many. Primes are not exactly sought after as husbands.”
“Why not?” She’d been with Daedalus long enough to see past the shields these old vampires used. Pallas’s pain wouldn’t have been obvious to most.
“Most are not as stable as Daedalus.” He gestured to his bald head and pointed ears. “And we’re monstrous to look at.”
“Well, maybe once you were considered so, but times have changed. I can’t tell you how many women have tried to steal Daedalus from me.” Especially in the nightclubs, they couldn’t keep their slutty hands off him. Vampires were becoming popular in the night scene. “I never considered him monstrous.” Just some of the things he did.