Night's Honor

FIFTEEN

“Tess, no,” Xavier said. “No.”

She didn’t look at him or react. All her attention appeared focused on the Djinn in front of her, while the folded paper shook visibly in her clenched hand.

Soren replied, “I believe I would. Provided the terms are acceptable, of course.”

“Goddammit.” Xavier slipped into Spanish, and a stream of expletives poured out of his mouth.

Julian gave him a strange look. He said, “I’m inclined to agree with her, Xavier. She started this. She can finish it—or at least try to.”

The implication in that was obvious to everyone.

“I’d like to be clear about one thing.” Tess’s voice turned tight. “I didn’t start this.”

Julian’s expression cooled, but he said, “Point taken.”

Soren asked, “Shall I summon Malphas here, or do you prefer some other location?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Julian replied, “I’d just as soon have this happen here in my quarters, where we can keep it private.”

“Very well.” Soren looked at Tess. “Are you ready?”

“Almost,” Tess said. “I need an envelope.”

“Fine.” Looking exasperated, Julian strode out of the room.

Xavier stood when Tess did, his hands clenched. Ignoring Soren, he said telepathically, Tess, don’t do this.

She shook her head, looking as determined as he’d ever seen her. I have to.

No, you don’t, he growled. Besides, I won’t let you.

She gave him another remarkably beautiful, complex smile. You don’t really have a choice.

He snapped, You haven’t even explained what you intend to do. We haven’t talked over options.

Julian and Soren have made it clear we don’t have any options.

Julian strode back into the room, holding a manila envelope. He handed it to Tess, and she slipped the folded paper inside and sealed it.

Xavier couldn’t stand it. Not caring that Julian and Soren stood nearby and watched, he grabbed her by the shoulders. He demanded, I’m supposed to protect you. Where did that go?

Something happened to me over the last six weeks. Tess laid a hand on his chest. I internalized what you and Raoul have been teaching me, and the conversations in my head really did change. I’m grateful you want to protect me. That means so much to me—much more than you can know. But I’m going to protect myself now. I need to do this, Xavier, and for more than one reason. Malphas needs to know this comes from me.

Taking hold of his wrists, she gently removed his hands from her shoulders. Then she said aloud to Soren, “I’m ready.”

Soren said in a voice filled with Power, “Malphas.”

If Xavier could have torn that name out of the air, he would have. Silence fell in the room, and it took on a listening quality.

A maelstrom arrived, filling open space in the room like a tornado springing from nothing. It coalesced into the shape of a handsome, golden-haired man whose eyes were starred with Power every bit as strong as Soren’s.

The handsome man’s shining gaze swept the room, taking in everyone present and coming to rest on Tess. Fury suffused his expression. He looked so hostile Xavier took an instinctive step forward toward her. She might not want his protection, but by God, she was going to get it.

Snapping out words like he was biting the air, Malphas said, “Well, isn’t this an interesting gathering. Both the Nightkind King and the head of the Elder tribunal—Tess, you’ve been surprisingly efficient at striking up new acquaintances.”

“I’ve worked hard at it,” she said between her teeth.

Malphas clenched and unclenched his fists, and Xavier’s gaze fell to track the movement. “Soren,” Malphas hissed. “What are you doing with my ex-employee?”

“I don’t converse with pariahs.” If Soren’s voice had been cold before, now it was a single spike of deadly ice.

“I find that inconsistent, since you’re the one who summoned me here. Whatever stories this human might have told you, they have nothing to do with Djinn law. But you already know that, or you would have gathered many more Djinn to meet with me.”

Malphas strode forward, his attention turning back to Tess. The veneer of humanity he wore thinned, and details of his appearance grew disconnected. He still had two eyes, a mouth and nose, cheekbones and jawline, but none of the features looked like they comprised an actual face, and sheer raw Power shown out of him like light from a lantern.

“Tell me, Tess,” he said. “How have you enjoyed the dreams I’ve sent you?”

If she had been pale from tension before, now she turned chalk white. She whispered, “They’ve been engrossing.”

“You know they’re just a taste of what I can do if you really cross me. Tell me you haven’t really crossed me, and you can have your old job back. It’s all there waiting for you—the six-figure income, your nice apartment and all your nice things. The bad dreams will stop. All will be forgiven.” Malphas pulled his lips into a smile and opened his eyes wide. “I promise.”

Xavier moved directly between Tess and Malphas, turning to face the Djinn with reddened eyes and fangs fully descended. Every predatory instinct he possessed urged him to attack, and he had to fight to control himself.

“The Vampyre seems to think he might be able to do something to stop me.” Malphas gave Xavier a vicious look. “How terminally misguided of him. Do you think I should let him try something to make him feel manlier, or should I stake him now and be done with it?”

Julian blurred to Xavier’s side. The Nightkind King’s fangs had descended too. “Attacking one of my subjects is an act of war with the entire Nightkind demesne.”

“If you insist,” snapped the Djinn. “I can stake you too.”

“You know what, Malphas?” Tess said suddenly. “I am so done with you. Do you hear me? I am done. I’m done with your snotty attitude, and your petty cruelties and threats, and this persistent belief you have that you’re untouchable. I’m done being afraid of you. I’m done giving you real estate in my head. I’m getting you out of my life, and burying you in the past where you belong.”

She strode to Soren and held out the sealed envelope.

“What is that?” Malphas said. The open viciousness in his face ebbed and a different kind of tension took its place.

Tess ignored him. She said to Soren, “Will you strike a bargain with me?”

After a long glance at Malphas, Soren smiled. “Why yes, human, I believe I will. What kind of bargain did you have in mind?”

“I want you to take this envelope and keep it safe,” Tess said. “As long as Malphas does nothing to harm me or anyone else in the Nightkind demesne, I want you to promise this envelope stays sealed and unread. But if anything happens to me, or to anybody else I’ve ever known or cared about, I want you to send copies of the contents of this envelope to Senator Jackson, the Elder tribunal, the Nightkind King, the governing body for the Djinn, and every gaming commission in the United States.” She cocked her head. “Actually, please make that every gaming commission for every government worldwide. I would also like for you to send it to every Elder Races and human news outlet. Would you be willing to do that?”

“The terms of this bargain are easily met,” Soren said. “I would. What do you offer me in return?”

Tess’s gaze never wavered. She said steadily, “I hadn’t gotten that far in my thinking. Anything you like.”

“No!” Xavier snapped. Making an open-ended bargain like that with a Djinn was incredibly foolhardy. She was effectively throwing away her life, and Soren would own her.

Julian gripped him by the arm, preventing him from lunging forward.

Soren glanced at the Vampyres then at Malphas, who vibrated with impotent rage. Soren turned back to Tess. “For my end of the bargain, as long as Malphas does nothing to harm you or anyone in your life, you will never reveal the contents of what is inside this envelope to anyone.” He paused, lifting one white eyebrow. “Be careful, human. This bargain is binding. You must never speak of it again.”

The rigid tension eased from Tess’s shoulders, and she took a shaking breath, and Xavier could tell that she knew Soren had given her a reprieve. “I agree.”

“We have a deal,” Soren said. He took the envelope, held out his hand and Tess shook it. He said to Julian, “I’m done here.”

“Thank you for coming,” Julian said.

Soren nodded and vanished.

Julian turned his red gaze to Malphas. He growled, “Leave.”

Malphas ignored him and walked over to Tess, who stood her ground. Oddly, the pariah’s fury seemed to have vanished, to be replaced by fascination.

Malphas said, “You always said you weren’t a gambler, but you just gambled everything on Soren keeping his word. What was in the envelope, Tess?”

She said, “I’ll never tell.”

“Whatever it is, you think it’s worth sending out to every gaming commission in the world?” His gaze was like twin laser beams.

“Malphas, I know for a fact that if the gaming commissions knew what you were doing, no one would ever let you run a respectable casino again.” She leaned forward. “That might not stop you from gambling somewhere, somehow, but it would severely curtail your activities, wouldn’t it?”

After a long moment, he said, “Fine. I don’t expect to see or hear anything from you again.”

She lifted her chin. “Nor I, you.”

He studied her unblinkingly then gave Xavier and Julian one dismissive glance. Without another word, he vanished.

“So, okay,” she whispered. “That happened.”

Xavier felt his fangs recede, but not his anger. Striding over to Tess, he glared at her and spat, “Estupida.”

She shrugged, her mouth working. That was when he noticed she shook all over. Grabbing her none too gently, he hauled her into his arms. She leaned her forehead on him and let out a shaking breath.

He buried his face in her hair and held her. After a moment, he whispered, “I didn’t know he was sending you dreams. Did you?”

“I thought they were just nightmares.” When she lifted her head again, her eyes were too bright, but overall she seemed calmer. Walking to the couch, she picked up the pad of paper and turned it over, faceup, to show the top page to Xavier and Julian.

Twelve names were written on it, and each name had a note scribbled beside it.

Xavier stared at the paper, then at her. He grabbed the pad and flipped through it. The second page from the top had been ripped out, and a jagged edge showed along the seam. “You put a blank piece of paper in that envelope, didn’t you?”

Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug, while her dark eyes never left his. “Now, you know I can’t reveal what I put in there. I just made a bargain with one of the most Powerful Djinn in the world promising I wouldn’t.”

While he carefully tore off the top sheet, folded it and tucked it in his pocket, Julian walked over to the cabinet and poured himself another drink of bloodwine.

He said in Xavier’s head, I don’t know what the hell you’re going to do with her, but assuming you still want to keep her alive, you can’t send her out on assignment. She’s much too colorful.

I know, Xavier said.

A few minutes later they left Julian’s apartment.

Tess walked along beside Xavier meekly. They strode down the hallway, past a variety of different creatures, most Vampyres, but some humans, a few ghouls and even a troll.

She asked Xavier telepathically, Can we do anything with those names?

Maybe, he replied without looking at her. Maybe not. Perhaps an independent agency with another agenda can investigate, but we need to be very careful nothing can be traced back to you, or us. This stalemate you bargained for is only good if Malphas believes he has your silence.

I understand.

Inside, a great roaring emptiness filled her head, and she realized how much space fear had taken up in her life. She felt strange in the absence of it, almost adrift.

I’m free, she thought. Really free.

I can access the money in my bank accounts. Send for my furniture. I can go wherever I like, do whatever I like.

The thoughts were dizzying. Now all she had to do was decide what she wanted to do. Where she wanted to go.

She sneaked a peek at Xavier’s profile.

He looked calm, but he usually looked calm. Not like the red-eyed, fanged Vampyre who had guarded her so fiercely.

No, this was the imperious aristocrat, and while she found him just as sexy as the tender man who had kissed her with such sensual expressiveness, this side of Xavier was highly unpredictable.

Was he still angry with her? It was impossible to tell.

Did he regret kissing her?

As she angled her face away, she caught sight of a Vampyre watching her with a narrow-eyed stare filled with curiosity and hunger. The scrutiny was so rude, she scowled with irritation and stared back.

I’ve confronted a monster far worse than you and survived, she thought. I’ve faced my worst nightmare, and you don’t even come close.

Her heart rate remained steady, her nerves completely calm.

It appeared she had finally found the positive image she’d been looking for.

After a moment of the staring contest, the Vampyre gave her a slight smile and turned away.

Soon enough, she and Xavier reached the end of one hallway and a set of doors that looked much more modest than those leading to the Nightkind King’s apartment. Xavier typed a code into a very modern-looking keypad lock, opened the door and stood back to let her precede him.

Once inside, he locked and bolted the door behind them, while Tess looked around. This apartment was almost as simply furnished as Julian’s had been, but the results were warmer and more elegant. Wingback armchairs, upholstered in a deep, rich gold, were positioned around an unlit fireplace, along with a matching sofa. A shadowed hallway lay at one corner of the room, and a closed door lay across the room in another corner.

As with Julian’s apartment, there were no windows here. An abundance of wall art, highlighted with track lighting, illuminated the room and gave it dimension and color. The pieces looked European and distinctive. She guessed one was a Gauguin, and another appeared to be a Renoir, and she had no doubt they were all originals. Bookshelves lined the walls between paintings, filled with a mix of old and new books just as in his study, back at the estate.

Over the fireplace mantel, an antique clock said the time had gone past four o’clock. She could believe it. The events of the last several hours seemed to have taken days.

A note lay on the table nearest the door. She could read it easily from where she stood. I put Tess’s things in the room nearest the bathroom and left a snack for her on the bedside table. Wake me if you have need of anything, D.

Xavier glanced at the note. Still without looking directly at her, he said, “It’s very late, and you’ve had a long day. You must be tired.”

His face revealed nothing of what he was thinking. She remembered the first time she had met him, how his expression had been virtually unreadable and how much that had frightened her. She had come such a long way from that night.

Lifting one shoulder, she studied him sidelong. “I suppose.”

A muscle in his lean jaw ticked. “There are two bedrooms for attendants down the hallway, along with the apartment’s only bathroom.” He jerked his chin toward the other doorway. “My bedroom is there. I’m afraid we all have to share a bathroom. Modernizing Evenfall is a nightmare of logistics, and renovations have only gone so far.”

“Are you mad at me?” She searched his face again for some kind of clue as to what he was thinking or feeling.

The question was like touching a lit match to dry tinder.

He rounded on her and exploded with such quiet intensity she jumped. “God, yes, I’m angry. The chances you took—you bluffed with both Djinn.” He slid into rapid, forceful Spanish again.

Ducking her head, she studied the tips of her shoes and waited out the incomprehensible tirade, nodding every once in a while to show that she was still listening.

Was it a machismo thing? At his roots, he was, after all, a medieval Spaniard. In fact, despite having what seemed to be an inherently gentle nature, he had been an entitled medieval Spaniard, and he was very, very male.

She said experimentally, “I know. I should have let you handle everything, like you wanted. Right?”

When he paused, she looked up to find him glaring at her. He looked baffled and infuriated, and the tension in his posture was palpable.

“You know none of it would have happened without you. I would never have been able to talk to Julian or Soren, if you hadn’t paved the way.”

Renewed rage darkened his face. “If you think I’m angry because I wanted credit for anything, you don’t know me in the slightest.”

Instantly contrite, she whispered, “I apologize. That’s not what I meant.” She studied him anxiously. “Are you sorry you kissed me?”

His expression changed. It was the only warning she got as he lunged at her.

He was so fast. He had her pinned against the wall before she fully knew what had happened. Moving with precise intent, he cupped her jaw, tilted up her head and took her mouth with his.

This wasn’t a sensual, tender exploration like the first kiss had been. His lips were hardened and demanding, and he thrust deep with his tongue.

A flash fire washed across her nerve endings, lighting up her whole body.

He really was inside her mouth.

He really was pushing against her, thrusting a knee between her legs, the length of his body tight like steel.

She bucked against the wall then latched on to him. Hardly knowing what she did, she clawed at the simple leather tie that held back his hair and yanked it off.

His dark, chestnut hair spilled about his shoulders, drastically changing his appearance. Gone was the courteous, reserved man, and in his place stood a shockingly sensual stranger, with a hardened face and glittering eyes that flashed with green fire.

She fisted both hands greedily in the dark mass of his hair and kissed him back with everything she had.

He gripped her by the back of the neck, while a hard length grew to press against one of her hips. When she realized what it was, arousal pierced through her lower body and moistened the growing ache between her legs.

When he pulled back to stare down at her, he was breathing hard.

Their gazes locked. Deliberately, he slid a hand between their bodies and cupped her pelvis. The steady, knowledgeable pressure he exerted broke a moan out of her.

“No, Tess,” he said, very low, this sensual, glittering stranger. “I don’t regret kissing you in the slightest, and I have every intention of doing it again. A lot.”

“I see,” she whispered, shaken and delighted, and completely beside herself. She pushed against his hand, willing him to move, but he held rock steady. “Tell me you’re not going to stop now.”

“That depends.” Still holding her between her legs, he cupped her cheek and stroked her lips with his thumb. They were still moist from his kiss.

“On what?” She tried again to push against him. All she wanted to do was rub herself all over him like an alley cat, but not only did he have her pinned too effectively, his strength was immense.

He ducked his head and bit at her lips lightly, while running the tips of his fingers along the seam of her jeans. Between her legs. Even through the thick material, his touch left a trail of molten fire.

Leaning his forehead against hers, he looked deep into her eyes, his expression serious. “On where you’re going to be tomorrow.”

She stilled, staring back. Once she had been able to set aside her prejudices and preconceived notions, her fascination for him had grown at an exponential rate. It would almost be easier to blame him for mesmerizing her, except she couldn’t do that to either one of them. She wouldn’t deny this attraction she felt for him, and she couldn’t insult his integrity like that, even in the privacy of her own mind.

“I . . . I don’t know where I’m going to be tomorrow. I guess I don’t understand.”

He stroked her hair back from her face. “I want you.” His voice was low, pitched for her ears alone, words deliberate and forceful. “I’ve wanted you for a while, but you were off-limits and that was all there was to it.”

Of course he would have been restrained. He set his code and lived by it. His soul was as straight and strong as tempered steel.

“I’m not working for you any longer,” she said. “I’m not under your power now.”

Although she was. She was.

“That’s right. You’re not.” He kissed her forehead. “Theoretically we can do whatever we like, but not that long ago you were deeply afraid of me. Now you’ve bought a stalemate with Malphas, and you’re free to go wherever you like. While I’m glad for that, I don’t want to rush you into something too soon, and fuck you in the heat of the moment only to watch you leave. Do you understand? I don’t want to do that, because I want you.”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath then let it out slowly, while the fever in her blood ratcheted down slightly to something a little more manageable.

He was right. She had a hundred thousand dollars in her bank accounts, and a wide-open road.

“I could have done that,” she admitted. “I don’t know.”

He studied her expression. “Promise me something.”

She focused on fiddling with a button on his shirt. “Maybe.”

“Promise you won’t just run away. Promise you’ll at least stay long enough to discuss what you might want to do next.”

It was time to confess.

“I don’t actually want to leave,” she muttered. “I . . . love the estate. I love the peacefulness and the ocean, and I’d been meaning to ask you if I could borrow some books from your library. Raoul and I had just gotten somewhere interesting in my training, and I was invested in seeing where we went next. And I put on that dress you bought for me, because I really did want to see if you and I could waltz for ninety more seconds without me stomping on your feet.” She glanced up, into his intent gaze. “But I can’t go back to being one of your attendants again.”

Removing his hand from between her legs, he simply gathered her up and held her in a whole body hug. The sexiness hadn’t gone away, not in the slightest, but the sheer emotional impact of being held in such a cherishing manner shot straight through her.

Piercing her heart, again.

Nuzzling her hair, he murmured, “We have created a neat box for ourselves, haven’t we?”

She forced the words to come out. “Would it be better if I just left?”

“I would follow you.” He slipped his fingers underneath her chin and urged her to tilt it. When she did, he kissed her again, slow and lingeringly. He said it a second time against her lips. “Tess, I would follow you.”

Gladness shook through her. She sighed, “Oh good,” and kissed him back.

For long moments they lingered. He brushed her lips with his, over and over, and nipped at her gently with the edge of his even, white teeth. She wasn’t the slightest bit nervous that he would forget, or lose control and bite her for real. It was quite clear what he was doing.

This was love play, and he was knowledgeable and very, very good at it. She could feel his erection pressing against her pelvis bone.

He wanted her, and he made no secret of it. The tension in his body and in his gentle hands told her how much. He showed her with every caress of his fingertips and stroke of his tongue against hers. And she believed in her bones that if she said no or asked him to stop, he would do so instantly.

A different level of trust bloomed, like a shy, rare orchid that could only exist if a certain set of conditions were just right.

She had suspected that he would change her, and at the time, survival was what had mattered the most. But change could also be a positive, life-enhancing experience, and she realized she might like herself better, might like life better, than she had ever believed possible.

“Xavier,” she whispered.

He stopped kissing along the edge of her jaw to look at her inquiringly.

It was her turn to stroke his hair. It fell to his shoulders in a thick wave, and while the length could have seemed effeminate, it didn’t. It was ridiculously gorgeous and utterly sensual, and it suited him completely.

“I won’t run, I promise,” she told him. “I’m too . . . intrigued.”

A slow smile broke over his face. “Very good. We will work everything else out, yes? All the definitions—what you need to be, and what I need to be. What we need to be together. You will come back home with me?”

She hesitated. She had promised she wouldn’t run away, but that didn’t mean she felt comfortable with moving forward. “I don’t know about that.”

His pleasure faded, and he scowled. “Why not?”

“I don’t fit, back there. Everyone else will be expecting me to go back to being an attendant, and living in the house.”

“Bah.” He dismissed that with a wave of one hand. “They will deal with whatever we decide to present to them.”

The thought of Diego’s discontentment flashed through her mind. She said, doubtfully, “It may not be as easy as all that.”

“You will stay in the guesthouse,” he told her. “Not the attendants’ house. Raoul will continue your lessons, and I will teach you to waltz, by God, if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Hey,” she said, caught by the grim determination with which he had said that. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Humor danced in his eyes. “The point is we do not need to reach an instant definition this very moment. We can work it all out over time. Agreed?”

She might not know where they were going, but it was definitely a step in the right direction.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Agreed.”

His expression turned serious, and he eased away from the wall. Without his body weight pinning her into place, she had to force her own shaky limbs to support her.

Sliding his fingers lightly down her arm, he took her hand.

“Come make love with me,” he said.

After all of that—after taking the time to create an understanding that was filled with respect and that gave her a sense of safety—how like him to make everything so classic and direct, and simple.

She tightened her hand in his. “Yes.”