Refuge (Relentless Book 2)

I TOSSED MY sketchpad and pencil down on the bed after staring at the blank page for the last ten minutes. I was trying to draw the hellhounds, but even though I could see them exactly as I wanted to sketch them, my fingers didn’t seem to know where to start.

Rolling off the bed, I went to open the window and listened to the heavy silence of the valley. It was too quiet here at night. I’d give anything to hear the familiar sounds of the waterfront or open my door and hear Nate clicking on his keyboard. I missed Daisy’s three-legged gait and Oscar’s motorboat purr. Hell, I even missed the imps scratching and chattering behind the walls. I missed everything.

It was too early for bed, and watching TV alone in my room didn’t appeal to me for once. I opened my door, wondering if any of the other trainees were hanging out downstairs. Seeking out company was a new experience for me, but I’d never really felt lonely before I came here. I’d enjoyed having dinner with the others tonight, instead of eating alone like I normally did. For the first time since I arrived, it felt like I’d connected with other people. I hadn’t realized how much I missed that until today.

The common rooms were empty except for a warrior I didn’t know watching an old black-and-white movie in one of them. I stood in the main hall and debated where to go. The north wing and west wing housed mostly living quarters like my own, so there was nothing to see there. The first floor of the west wing was training rooms and I’d seen more than enough of them already. The south wing held the offices, meeting rooms, security, and the living quarters for Lord Tristan, some of the senior warriors, and important visitors. That left the east wing. During my tour, Claire had pointed out the medical ward on the first floor. She’d also told me there was a sick warrior recuperating in the wing. I stayed away from the first floor so I didn’t disturb him, and I was very quiet when I took the stairs to the second floor.

Strolling down the long second-floor hallway, I ran a hand lightly along the dark paneling, struck for the hundredth time by the grandeur of my new home. The walls on this floor were hung with beautiful oil paintings and ornate wall sconces that had been converted from gas to electric. I had not asked anyone how old the building was, but I suspected it was well over a hundred years old. The Mohiri lived for centuries, so it was no surprise for them to hold onto their homes for a long time. What was it like to live that long and to witness the coming of electricity, automobiles, and the age of technology? What wonders and changes in the world would I live to see over my own lifetime?

At the end of the hallway, light spilled from a room with the door slightly ajar. I pushed it open and I could barely contain my excitement at the sight of the shelves of books lining the walls from floor to ceiling. There was a large library off the main hall, but it didn’t hold a candle to this room. This one looked like something out of an English manor with dark walls, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a large fireplace at one end of the room. Two high-backed chairs faced the fire that crackled in the hearth, and a lamp on the small table between the chairs cast a soft glow over the room. It looked like someone had just stepped out of the room, and I hesitated, worried they would mind my intrusion. I turned to leave, but one more look at all those books changed my mind.

The only problem with so many books was choosing one. I liked a lot of the classics, but I had tons of them in the boxes of books that had come with me from home. I inhaled the smell of old paper, and a smile spread across my face. I had a feeling I was going to be spending a lot of time here, and I couldn’t help but think that my dad would have loved this room, too.

I scanned the titles to see what treasures the little library held. Automatically, my eyes searched for the Bs because something told me there had to be some Brontë on these shelves. I found what I was looking for high above my head, and I had to roll the squeaky wooden ladder over so I could reach the books. Reverently, I pulled out the copy of Jane Eyre and fingered the cloth-covered spine. My copy was a dog-eared paperback that was falling apart from too many readings. I opened the cover to the first page and felt my eyes bug out. A first edition Jane Eyre in perfect condition!

I shouldn’t be touching these. Regretfully, I reached up to slide the book back into its place on the shelf. My old copy would do just fine. I’d be too nervous about damaging the rare book to enjoy it.

The thought had barely passed through my mind when my hold on the ladder slipped. I let out a loud gasp as I lost my grip on the precious tome and it fell to the floor with a thud. I grabbed the ladder again, just in time to keep from falling. Climbing down, I picked up the book, relieved to see no damage to the cover.

“If you are quite finished making a racket, I’d like to get back to my book now,” said a voice in clipped English from behind one of the chairs.

Startled, I almost dropped the book again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was here.”

“Well, now you do. There is a perfectly nice library downstairs where you can bother someone else.”

I bristled at his rudeness. I might have disturbed him, but that was no reason to be nasty. I’d dealt with too many bullies in my lifetime to let a faceless person push me around. “Thank you for pointing that out, but I am perfectly content here.” I moved toward the chairs near the fireplace, fully intending to make myself at home.

With an irritated sigh, a man stood up and came around the chairs. He was tall, and his dark auburn hair hung in unkempt waves to his shoulders. His complexion was pale as if he did not see much sun, but that did not take away from his handsome aristocratic features. Hooded brown eyes glared at me, and his mouth was turned down as he crossed his arms and blocked my passage. I couldn’t help but notice that his pants and jacket looked like they were from another era, and they were wrinkled and lightly soiled.

I stared at him for several seconds, not because I was afraid of him, but because he looked so much like Stuart Townsend in Queen of the Damned. The resemblance was uncanny. I think I smiled, which only made the man scowl even harder. After a month of fighting with Nikolas and coming face-to-face with real vampires, this guy was about as scary as Michael. There was something slightly off about his stare and his disheveled appearance, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“You must be new or you would know no one comes up here. They prefer to use the other library. I am sure you would be happier there.”

I met his dark gaze without wavering. “I appreciate your concern, but I like it here.” I moved to go past him, half expecting him to try to block me again, but he only watched silently as I took the other chair and opened my book. I felt his eyes burning into me for a long moment before he made a grumbling sound and went back to his own chair.

Once he sat, the only sounds were the whisper of pages turning and the soft cracks and pops from the fire. It was hard to believe I was reading a first edition of one of my favorite books, which had just been sitting on a shelf for anyone to read. Maybe a book like this didn’t hold as much interest for people who had been around when the book was first released. I ran my hand along the open page and hoped I never got too old or too jaded to appreciate things like this.

It took me a few minutes to realize I was the only one turning pages. Something told me my companion was staring at me again, but I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of reacting to his behavior. If this was his attempt at scaring me off, he’d have to try a lot harder. To prove it, I pulled my feet up under me and prepared to lose myself in Jane’s world.

He seemed to settle down after that, and it was another twenty minutes before I heard him shift in his chair and make small huffing sounds. I was tempted to tell him there could be no way I was disturbing him now, but I refused to acknowledge him. Maybe he would give up or just go away once he realized I was here until I was ready to leave. However, after another ten minutes of listening to him fidget and grumble under his breath, I was ready to throw a book at him. And he said I was making a racket.

“She was a beautiful woman, but always so serious.”

His voice startled me into looking over at him. “Excuse me?”

He waved a hand at the book I held. “Charlotte. Most people said that Emily was the fairer one, but she really had nothing to her older sister. Such a gifted but tragic family.”

It took me a moment to understand what he was saying. “You knew the Brontë sisters?” I didn’t try to keep the disbelief out of my voice.

He looked affronted, and his voice rose a notch. “Are you insinuating that I am lying?”

I shrugged. “I’m not insinuating anything.”

“Still, I don’t think I like your tone.”

I turned my attention back to my book. “Then don’t talk to me.”

He made another series of huffing sounds and got up to go to the other side of the room. After a few minutes of quiet I figured he had gone. I felt a little bad because I hadn’t meant to drive him away, but I had as much right as him to use this room. And it wasn’t like I had been disturbing him, except for dropping the book. He looked like a twenty-year-old, but he behaved like a crotchety old man who was put out because he couldn’t have his way.

It surprised me when he appeared beside his chair again with a different book in his hands. His body shook a little as he sat, and I noticed a fine sheen of moisture on his face.

“Are you ill?”

Apparently, that was the absolute wrong thing to ask him. His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened even more. “What is that supposed to mean?” he snarled, and I felt the hairs rise up on my arms. Okay, maybe he was a little scarier than Michael.

“It doesn’t mean anything. I just thought you might not be feeling well.” Something told me he would not react well to a sympathetic voice, so I kept my tone as normal as possible.

“I am perfectly fine.”

“Good.”

“Why do you care anyway?” He still sounded angry, but the snarl was gone at least.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s one of my many faults.”

He was quiet again for a few minutes before he griped, “Do you do this often, invade others’ privacy and tell them they look awful?”

I looked up from my book again and met his challenging stare. “As far as I know, this library is open to anyone, and I did apologize for disturbing you. I did not say that you looked awful, so please stop scowling at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were fishing for compliments.”

“I do not fish for complements.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You are an annoying little imp. It is no wonder you came here instead of being with the other children. They probably can’t abide your company.”

I stood, fed up with his churlishness and insults. “Listen here, Lestat, you are no charmer yourself.”

“Lestat?” His eyes widened and he jumped up, sputtering. “Did you just compare me to a vampire – a fictional vampire?”

I didn’t know what had made me call him that, but there was no taking it back. “You called me an annoying imp.”

“Because you are annoying.”

“You’re not too much fun to be around either.”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “You are an irritating person, and I am not used to people talking to me this way.” He pulled himself up to his full height, sounding every bit like a haughty lord. For all I knew he was one, but that didn’t give him the right to treat people like crap.

“If you don’t like how I talk, then don’t talk to me. You read your book, and I’ll read mine.”

“I can’t read now. You’ve ruined it for me.”

Good Lord, this guy would try a saint. “Then leave if you don’t want to read.”

He looked like he was about to stomp his foot like a little boy. “I was here first.”

I let out a heavy sigh. The man was infuriating and rude, and I really didn’t need the aggravation. “Fine. I’ll leave. Good night.”

“You showed up here and ruined my evening, and now you are leaving?” Was that disappointment in his voice? I could not understand this guy for the life of me.

“Yes.” I stopped at the door and wrinkled my nose at him. “Something in here smells really old and musty. Maybe the room just needs a good cleaning.” Turning away, I left before he could see the satisfied smile on my face.

* * *

I barely noticed my surroundings as I walked back to the main building from the menagerie. I still couldn’t believe the hellhounds were here, and I had no idea what I was going to do with them. They were huge brutes, and they growled menacingly whenever anyone but me went near their cage. I couldn’t leave them locked up in there forever, but Sahir was afraid – and probably rightfully so – that they would harm someone if they were let out. Their welfare and happiness were my responsibility now and it weighed on me. I was determined to spend as much time as it took to train them and make them safe for other people to be around.

The hellhounds were not the only things on my mind. My power was going haywire all of a sudden, and I had no idea why or what to do about it. Just this morning, I was soaking in the healing baths after training when my scalp began to tingle and static crackled in my hair. I could have sworn I saw tiny sparkles of light in the cloudy water. Fear drove me from the bath before my time was up, and I’d cast a furtive glance at Olivia who lay with her eyes closed in her own tub. But the other girl had shown no signs of noticing anything out of the ordinary. How long could I hide this before someone saw it and started asking questions I couldn’t answer?

“Sara.”

I turned to find Claire hurrying toward me. Judging by her amused expression she had called to me several times. “Hi, Claire. What’s up?”

She returned my smile. “I thought you would have forgotten my name with all the new faces around you. How are you settling in?”

“Great.”

Claire laughed at my unconvincing tone. “Give it another week or so. All orphans have an adjustment period. It took me almost a month to even speak to anyone.”

“You were an orphan?” It was hard to think of cheerful, outgoing Claire as a shy orphan. “How long have you been here?”

She put a hand to her chin. “I think it’s been eighty years. You lose track after a while. I was four when Tristan found me.”

“Lord Tristan?”

“Yes. It was during the Great Depression,” she said as we walked together. “He found me at an orphanage in Boston. I have vague memories of my mother, but I don’t remember what happened to her. The people at the orphanage told Tristan they were overflowing with abandoned children whose parents could not feed them anymore. Tristan adopted me and set up a monthly stipend to help the orphanage. I think he did that for a lot of orphanages at the time.”

The last two weeks, I’d resented the absent leader who had enforced so many restrictions on me. Hearing Claire’s story about how generous Tristan was improved my opinion of him.

“Speaking of Tristan, he’d like to see you in his office. I’ll show you where it is.”

Lord Tristan wanted to see me? Maybe after my awful training session yesterday he had decided I wasn’t cut out to be a warrior after all. Or maybe the incident with the hellhounds had made him question the wisdom of having me here.

Claire led me to the first floor of the south wing and stopped in front of a closed door. “He’s waiting for you. Go on in,” she said and left me alone in the hallway.

I couldn’t just walk in, so I knocked on the door and waited for it to open. Lord Tristan’s blue eyes were surprisingly warm and his smile welcoming when he saw me standing there. He opened the door wider and waved me inside. “Sara, come in.”

His office was impressive. One side was taken up by the usual office furniture: desk, chairs, filing cabinets, and a computer. On the other side of the room was a sitting area with a couch, a chair, and several small tables. Large windows overlooked the front lawn.

He shut the door and surprised me again by leading me to the sitting area instead of going to sit behind his desk. I took a seat on the couch, and he sat in the chair.

“I’m sorry it has taken me this long to meet you. I wanted to be here when you arrived, but Council business kept me abroad these last few weeks.”

“I understand,” I told him, but I really didn’t get why an important man like him with so many responsibilities would bother to explain his whereabouts to me.

“Tell me, how are you doing since you moved here?”

I made a face. “You really need to ask that after watching my training yesterday? I’m not exactly good warrior material.”

His laugh was rich and warm instead of mocking. “I think it will take more than a few weeks to determine what kind of warrior you will be. From what I have heard, you have other very special qualities to commend you.” I gave him a questioning look, and he said, “Nikolas told me about your unique heritage. Do not worry; your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you.”

“Training aside, how do you like it here? Are your quarters to your liking? Have you made friends?”

His questions caught me off guard. Why would he care if I liked my room or made friends? Besides I had no doubt that he already knew everything there was to know about my first two weeks here.

“You want the truth?”

“Of course.”

“This place is amazing, but I don’t fit in here. I hope that doesn’t sound ungrateful because I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I know why I have to be here. I just . . . I miss home.” My throat tightened, and I looked away from him. My eyes found an oil portrait of a beautiful blond girl on the wall behind his chair. Her hair was the same shade as his, and I knew they had to be related.

Lord Tristan’s blue eyes filled with understanding. “The transition to this life can be difficult for orphans, and I think we assumed it would be easier for you, given your age. We did not take into account the strong ties you have to your old life. All I can say is that it will get easier and you will find your place with us. I hope you will trust me in that.”

I wanted to believe him, but I’d been burned once already. “The last person I trusted dumped me on your doorstep and took off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that you and Nikolas couldn’t spend ten minutes together without needing a referee. Perhaps you both needed some space.”

“You mean he was glad to get me off his hands.”

He laughed. “I doubt that. Nikolas plays by his own set of rules. Don’t read too much into him not being here right now. When he is hunting, he often spends weeks away at a time.”

“Busy guy. From one job right into another.” I smiled even though I did not feel like it. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about him.”

Lord Tristan nodded. “I understand. I did have another reason for asking you here today. Nikolas told me you might be open to meeting your Mohiri family once you feel comfortable among us. I wanted you to know they are very eager to get to know you – when you are ready, of course.”

“They’re here? I have family here . . . now?” His news floored me. I had been living under the same roof with family for almost two weeks without knowing it? Had I passed them in the halls? Sat near them at meals? They could be one of the other trainees or even my trainer. I crossed off that last thought. After everything I’d been through, there was no way God would be cruel enough to make Callum my family.

His face gave nothing away as he nodded. “You have a cousin who lives here, but he is away at the moment. And your mother’s sire is here. You would call him your grandfather.”

“My grandfather is here?” When Nikolas told me that Madeline’s father was still alive and wanted to meet me, I was curious but nowhere near ready to meet him. The knowledge that my grandfather was at this stronghold right now filled me with trepidation and excitement at the same time.

“Would you like to meet him?” Lord Tristan asked.

My stomach twisted nervously. Was I ready to meet Madeline’s father? The man wasn’t Madeline and I could not hold her behavior against him, but was I ready to have him in my life? “No . . . I mean, I don’t know. I’m sorry, you took me by surprise and it’s a lot to take in.”

He settled back in his chair. “It’s understandable. This is a big adjustment for you and you need more time. He only wants you to know that he is here for you when you are ready to meet him.”

I lowered my gaze as guilt hit me. Great. Now I felt like a total jerk. My grandfather sounded like a nice guy, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. It wouldn’t hurt to just meet him, right? It wasn’t like we had to start having family dinners and all that. And how could I walk around here after this, knowing he was here and not be able to identify him?

“I’m ready,” I said at last.

“Are you sure?”

I raised my eyes to his again and nodded. “I’m a little nervous, but yes.”

Smiling, he stood and went to his desk. Instead of reaching for his phone as I had expected him to, he opened a drawer and pulled out a thin book. It wasn’t until he returned to the sitting area that I saw it was not a book, but a photo album. He passed the chair and sat beside me on the couch. I looked up into his eyes, and the tenderness I saw in them punched me square in the chest.

“You have been through so much, and I can see how unhappy you are right now. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all the pain you’ve suffered. More than anything, I wish I could have been there for you all these years. Nikolas told me about your uncle and how much you care for each other, and I’m happy that you have someone like him in your life. I don’t want to replace him. All I ask is the chance to get to know you and that you will come to think of me as family, too.”

I struggled for words. What do you say when you find yourself face-to-face with a grandfather you never knew? Especially one who looks like he should be in college. “You’re Madeline’s father,” was all I could manage.

His eyes grew sad. Nikolas hadn’t told me much about Madeline or under what circumstances she had left the Mohiri, and I wondered what her relationship had been like with her father.

“I know Madeline hurt you deeply. My daughter has a lot to answer for when we find her.” He reached for my hand, and I let him take it despite my conflicting emotions. “When I learned of your existence, it took everything in me not to go to Maine myself. But Nikolas advised against it. He told me about your anger toward Madeline and your refusal to have anything to do with us. With everything else that was going on at the time, he was concerned about overwhelming you.”

I let out a tremulous laugh. “He was right. I kind of freaked out when he told me what I was. I’m still getting used to it all.”

He squeezed my hand lightly. “All I ask is for the chance for us to get to know each other.”

The hope shining in his eyes touched me, and I suddenly felt very shy. I nodded because I couldn’t trust myself to speak.

He let go of my hand, but he didn’t move away. “Why don’t we start slowly by getting to know each other a little better? Nikolas told me what he could of your life, but I would rather hear about it from you. I’m sure you must have questions for me as well.”

“Okay. Um, what should I call you?”

“We don’t use most of the familial terms humans do, so you can call me Tristan.”

“Not Lord?”

His smile grew. “That is my formal title, but everyone here calls me by my first name.”

I returned his smile, feeling a little more at ease. “I have to tell you it feels very weird to have a grandfather who looks a few years older than me.”

Tristan chuckled. “I can imagine.” He settled back against the couch. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, if you want to, that is?”

I started with my early childhood. Tristan’s smile faded when I spoke of Madeline leaving us when I was two, but it returned when I described my dad and recounted the many ways he had made my life so full and happy. I told him about my dad’s love of books and his penchant for creating games to encourage my interest in reading and music and poetry.

When I talked about losing my dad, Tristan waited quietly while I struggled to get through it. I told him about my life in New Hastings with Nate and my friends – human and nonhuman. I made sure he understood that my life there had not been an unhappy one and that it had taken a Master to drive me from my home.

Tristan began to talk about himself then, and I was shocked to learn he was born in sixteen eighty-four. He told me about growing up in England with his parents and older sister, Beatrice, training to be a warrior and then travelling around Europe and living at various strongholds. I discovered that he had been to almost every corner of the earth, he was the youngest member to ever join the Council at the ripe old age of thirty, and he spoke fourteen different languages, including a few words of Troll. He met my grandmother, Josephine, in Paris in eighteen sixty-one, and she moved back to America with him.

When I asked him where Josephine was, he grew quiet before he told me she was killed during a raid on a vampire nest in southern California in nineteen thirteen. Their scouts had misjudged the size of the nest, and when Josephine’s team of six went in, they were overwhelmed and only one of them made it out.

“It was a very dark time for me, and I might have done something reckless and gotten myself killed if it were not for Madeline. She was only ten, and I could not leave her without a parent. Nikolas took a team and wiped out the nest. He avenged Josephine for me because I could not leave my daughter, and he brought her body home to us.”

“People here talk about Nikolas like he is some kind of superhero, but they seem almost scared of him, too.”

“But you are not?”

I couldn’t deny how good a warrior Nikolas was, having seen him in action more than once. “He is pretty good, but don’t tell him I said that because he’s arrogant enough already. He’s way too bossy, but there’s nothing scary about him.”

“Our young people grow up hearing stories about Nikolas’s missions and his fighting skills, so it’s natural they look up to him. He is a fierce warrior, and there are few who could stand up to him when he sets his mind on something.”

“No kidding. Been there, got the T-shirt.”

Tristan laughed heartily. “In the short time I’ve known you I can already see why you were such a challenge for him. You seem to have a very strong sense of self and a quick mind. And you are not easily intimidated.”

“I guess I had to grow up fast.” I didn’t tell him I struggled every day to figure out who I was and it wasn’t getting any easier. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“I know you guys are looking for the Master, but every time I ask someone about it they tell me not to worry. Will you tell me what you’ve found so far?”

He gave me an indulgent smile. “You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

“See, you’re doing it, too.” I threw up my hands in frustration. “I’m not a five-year-old, and I didn’t move here to be coddled and kept in the dark about things that affect me.”

Tristan was taken aback by my outburst, and silence stretched between us. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said at last. “We are naturally protective of our young people, and we don’t include them in such things until they become warriors. It is a dangerous world, especially for our kind.”

I watched his gaze move to the portrait of the beautiful blond girl with the dainty, heart-shaped face and angelic smile. Pain flicked across his face, long enough for me to realize who she was. Nikolas had once mentioned Madeline’s aunt who was killed by vampires a long time ago, and there was no mistaking the resemblance between Tristan and the girl in the painting.

“Just because I want to know what is going on it doesn’t mean I will go out looking for trouble. Trust me; I plan to stay as far away from that vampire as I can.”

He came out of his reverie. “We cleaned out three nests in Nevada and two in California that we suspect belonged to him, but so far we have found no clues to his identity or his whereabouts.”

“I guess he wouldn’t be a Master if he was easy to find, would he?”

“I have hunted six Masters during my life, and this one is the most evasive by far. We did not even know of his existence until you told Nikolas about him.”

“Six Masters? Did you get them all?”

“Yes, and we will get this one, too,” he replied with conviction. “I just don’t know how long it will take. Today’s technology makes it easier to follow leads, but it also makes it easier for someone to disappear if they are good enough.”

The phone on his desk rang, interrupting us. When I glanced at my watch I was surprised to see that nearly two hours had passed. Tristan stood, wearing an expression of regret. “That would be my reminder that I have a Council call in five minutes. I hate to cut our time short.”

“I understand. We can talk again some other time.”

“I’d like that very much.”

We were walking to the door when my eyes lit on his large bookcase, reminding me of the strange man in the library. “Two nights ago, I went into a small library on the second floor of the east wing and I met a man who was upset about me being there. He didn’t look like a warrior. I mean, there was something different about him. I think he was sick.”

“Did he frighten you?” He didn’t ask what the man looked like, so he obviously knew who I was talking about.

“No, he was pretty agitated though. There was one point where I thought he was going to freak out, but he was mostly rude.”

He looked amused. “His name is Desmund, and he lives in that wing. He has been suffering from illness for a long time, so you’ll have to excuse his bad behavior.”

“Oh, I should have known. I heard there was a sick warrior living in the wing, but I assumed he was on the first floor.” I felt terrible. I’d upset a sick man who probably needed peace and quiet so he could recover. No wonder he’d been so irritable.

Tristan’s chuckle took me off guard. “Desmund has been closed off up there for too long, and it will do him some good to be around other people.” He opened the door for me. “Desmund’s had a very long and interesting life, and he was a different person before he became ill. I think you will like him when you get to know him.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Feel free to use that library whenever you wish. He can be difficult at times, but don’t let him drive you away. I think you will be good for him.”

I made a face. “Great, just what I needed, another difficult warrior.”