Chapter 15

Jasmine entered the old Romanian stronghold slowly by using the convention of the door rather than one of the numerous balconies that dotted the edifice. The very first thing she did was to seek out the powerful signature of Damien’s presence.

She had known he was on the property, but had expected him to be within the building. She was surprised to realize he was actually outside, some yards distant from it. She was not surprised to note that his new shadow was also quite close to him. She sighed with a little impatience. Did the woman never leave him alone?

Jasmine put aside the thought the moment she entertained it. She was just going to have to get used to this. It was clear that Damien intended to keep the Lycanthrope female as one might keep any pet. Apropos, considering she was more animal than anything else.

Jasmine took a long moment to survey the grand room she had just stepped into, looking over the cobweb-streamed ceiling with its domed roof and fresco paintings. When it was cleaned up, it would be restored to its former brilliance of color as well as the gleam ofgold inlay that graced the moldings and latticework.

There was obvious pride in her appraisal ofwhat she could see of the dim work. Her brother, Horatio, had done them during the Renaissance when it had been a fashionable way of doing artwork. He had always been the artistic, creative soul of their family. They had made a complementary match, she the student, he the artist. That is, until he took the diplomatic post in Noah’s court many decades ago, taking what was to be permanent leave of their already dwindling clan.

One would think that, over so much time, the one constant someone like her should have gotten used to was that nothing remained constant. Things changed. Always. Considering how hard it was to entertain oneself after the first century or two, that was probably supposed to be a good thing.

But the absence of her brother had been as welcome to her as the arrival of the Lycanthrope Princess. In both cases, she had had no say in the matter. Which, of course, was how it should be.

That did not mean she had to be pleased about it.

But she would adapt, as she always did, in one way or another. She took solace in the volatility of the time that approached them so rapidly. At least she would not be bored. On the other hand, there were bound to be casualties that would be unwelcome.

And Damien carried the highest probability of being on the early list.

She had made her choices, however. Ruth had tempted her with all manner of choices, a feast of selections that had held so much appeal in so many aspects, and unconscionable results in others.

She would stay here, in this place, with this man who was like a brother and a father to her. She would tolerate the annoying consequence of a steprelative that Syreena would become as a result of that. Damien needed her help, and she would not abandon him at this dangerous time. She could at the very least give Syreena the credit of being capable of the same goal. It was very likely the one thing they would ever manage to have in common.

Though they had made the choice to settle back and play a waiting game with their enemies, Jasmine had made a decision of her own. She agreed that they needed time and effort to properly approach the situation, but there was something that could and should be done almost immediately.

After thinking it over all day, she had decided to include Damien in her plans. He had voiced his opinions on the situation in such a way that she was forearmed with the great potential that he could be swayed to her way of thinking.

Provided his little tart did not have the opportunity to object. If she did, she could sway him away from Jasmine’s desires.

Something she seemed to do with frustrating frequency.

The real trick was going to be separating the two of them long enough to win Damien over to her way of thinking. Of course, she had a plan for that, one that was already set into motion. In a short while, brethren would begin to arrive and they would start to organize and revitalize the castle. They would be her key piece of bait for the little Princess.

Jasmine made her way through the household to her rooms, the ones she always stayed in when they resided in the homeland. They were too close to Damien’s quarters now, so she would be choosing others in the wing farthest from the happy homemakers.

She began to relocate her stored belongings to that section of the house while she waited for others to arrive, including Damien.

Damien raised his head from the pleasurable task of nuzzling Syreena’s stomach and looked back toward the castle they had abandoned. He sat up quickly, tugging her with him so that she settled high against his chest, her legs and bottom drawn up into his lap as he kept her secured to his body.

“We have company,” he informed her when she looked at him with clear curiosity.

“Let me guess …” She trailed off with a meaningful upcast of her eyes.

“Yes, it is Jasmine.” He chuckled. “But I would hardly be concerned about that. There are Vampires moving in this direction. Several of them. I imagine it is our new household.”

“Remind me to thank her,” Syreena said, not sounding thankful at all. But Damien knew it was born mostly out of her disappointment of having their private tryst interrupted. He was beginning to know her better, and knew that she worried that they would have little to no opportunity for such private intimacies in a full court. She had spent fifteen years in that fishbowl, with everyone watching her so closely. She had probably looked forward to escaping a little of it.

“She is not fully responsible. They sensed my arrival. It is a combination of tradition and curiosity that draws them here.”

Damien also knew she understood that this was for the best, even though it was potentially dangerous in its own right. This was the minute where their private affairs would become fodder for public opinion and reaction. She probably worried too much about it. Vampires were very unlike Lycanthropes in that respect. Those who dissented over the idea of their relationship would not make it well known, in order to suit their own purposes. The majority, however, would lose interest in the whole situation relatively quickly, if indeed it interested them to start with.

This was one situation where Vampire capriciousness would come in handy.

Syreena and Damien returned to their new home together, dressing in preparation to meet those who would soon arrive. The Princess left Damien’s rooms first, since dressing for her was no more complicated than slipping her light dress back on. As she exited, she literally bumped into Jasmine.

The female Vampire made a momentary effort to excuse her part of the collision, but it halted almost immediately as she got a good look at the Princess’s altered hair and eyes. Syreena did not begrudge the other woman her stunned shock. She imagined it must be a fairly startling change. Jasmine was obvious in her silence, her expression inscrutable, save for the sensation Syreena had that the Vampire was not quite pleased to see the transformation.

“I see you have completed the Exchange,” she said at last. “I congratulate you and Damien. You are the first in thousands ofyears to do so. Let me know if I can assist you in the remainder of the Bonding ceremony.”

“We will,” Syreena said, more than a little taken back by the other woman’s unusual graciousness. “Damien says the household is arriving.”

“They are. I am sure it will be something for you to look forward to.”

Again, Syreena had that sense that Jasmine was concealing something that gave her private pleasure in a seemingly banal statement.

“In what way?”

“You are mistress of this household now, Princess. You will be chatelaine, expected to organize and run it smoothly. I have performed the role in the past, but it is your place now.”

“I see. It is a familiar role. I ran my sister’s household in this manner.”

Jasmine just gave her a smile in return as response. It would be amusing to watch the Lycanthrope try to give orders to a Vampire staff.

“Then I suggest you go to greet your arrivals. They are at the door.” Jasmine reached to take Syreena’s arm and guide her in the right direction. “They will continue to arrive throughout the night. You will easily be able to tell the domestics apart from the higher-ranking guests, I am sure. Sybil, the woman we use as head housekeeper, will be the first to show herself, if I know her, and she will make an excellent assistant for you.”

Damien leaned back against a wall, his arms folded over the expanse of his chest, his dark eyes following his mate while she busily took charge of organizing the household staff. By turn, she greeted other guests politely and then promptly sent them back away. The house, she explained, would be in order in a few nights, and at that time she would extend a nationwide greeting to all who wished to pay homage to Damien. She disarmed the potentially insulting nature of the refusal of their company with a graciousness and a gregarious smile that was pure diplomacy.

No one who was not looking for it would ever think she was not a Vampire, he realized. First, it was an inconceivable idea that Damien would set up a household with a female not of their kind, so there was no reason to expect it. Those who found it curious that she did not evoke that natural sense that alerted Vampires to each other’s presence did not mention it outside of a curious wrinkling of a brow. If anyone evaluated the strange female with those heat-sensing membranes of their eyes, they would know the truth immediately as she flared hot and red in their vision.

It was the latter that would likely provoke a response, so Damien watched them all very closely for it and any adverse reactions that might follow.

Soon the balance of those who would come to work and reside in the household reached the point where Damien could finally relax. These were the people most loyal to him, who had protected and defended this household near to their deaths in the past. From butler to scullery maid, their families had served his for eons and considered it a mark ofpride that they were allowed to do so. It did not matter to him that they were the least powerful of his species, which limited them to their rank in Vampire culture. There was a power in these seemingly subordinate people that far outranked those Damien associated with in his personal entourage.

It was the power of contentment, loyalty, and satisfaction, all those things that were so elusive to those who held greater abilities. He had never quite understood it until now. Now, he realized, it was because they did not have to worry every moment that someone might stab them in the back or take off their heads at the first opportunity. They had remained limited to the same land, the same clan, the same relationships all of their lives. Yet it gave them security, not boredom.

It fascinated Damien to watch it.

At least, it did now. Now that he was finding contentment himself. He had avoided this land and these people for quite a long time now, because they had disturbed him and frustrated him with their seemingly simplistic pleasures of life. He had not understood it then the way he understood it now.

He could tell by the jubilant atmosphere that they were very happy he had returned to the homeland at last. That they had missed the presence of their Prince. If only those of more elevated rank would be so welcoming , he thought dryly. But he would deal with that as it came.

Once the main hall was filled with at least ten domestic Vampires that he knew, Damien finally pushed away from his wall. No one would dare be stupid enough to give Syreena any trouble now that so many knew she had his approval to be in charge of who came and who went. Those who now surrounded her would also see to her protection if anyone was stupid enough to challenge her. It was clear that she was the Prince’s woman, and she would be respected and protected as much as the Prince himself.

So Damien took the opportunity to seek out Jasmine, who had requested a private audience with him at his earliest convenience. Since he wanted to give special care to making Jasmine feel she was still important to him and that he valued her input and opinion, it was high in his mind to attend to her summons. It was very true that he felt that way; he only needed to make certain Jasmine felt it.

Jasmine was instructing a petite girl named Lucia on how she desired her room to be kept and where her things were to be best organized, when Damien found her.

It was not lost on him that Jasmine had chosen new quarters as far away from his as possible, whereas she had always done the opposite these past five centuries. It put a sadness on his heart to see this passive resistance to the changes in his life, but he had done all he could for her, and she was doing all she could to accommodate him. Perhaps over time this would better resolve itself.

“You requested an audience, madam?” he greeted her, his voice echoing in the large chamber.

Lucia gave a terrible start, and Damien had to work at not being amused when she looked at him with eyes that nearly popped out of her head. She could not be more than a couple of decades old, and she certainly had never seen the Vampire Prince before. Between his mere presence and the stories and rumors she had no doubt been raised on, Damien figured she had cause to be intimidated.

“Damien,” Jasmine greeted him with a warm smile. She set down the bottle of perfume she had been inspecting and moved to embrace him. Her slim body leaned against his with warm affection, her lips pressing to his cheek with fondness. “I am glad you have come. I wish to discuss something with you.”

She linked her arm through his, giving her gawking maid a shooing wave back to her work as she led the Prince out into the hallway. She chose a nearby door and led him into a heavily dusted, abandoned storeroom.

“You are plotting something,” he said immediately after the door was closed behind her back.

“I admit it, I am. While I agree with most of what has already been discussed about this situation with the Nightwalker renegades, I believe we have a course of action that must be taken.”

“Jasmine, you are looking for trouble,” he warned her.

“Exactly,” she breathed in earnest. “And so should you! Damien, you are Prince and I am your most trusted advisor. I have always been in charge of domestic troubles, and you have always entrusted them to me.” She moved to grasp him by both shoulders, making sure he looked down into her serious eyes. “Since when do we allow others to manage our domestic problems? We have a responsibility here that must be attended to immediately. The rogue Vampire. His identity must be discovered. We must know who among us is a traitor, lest we find ourselves giving information away where we do not want to.”

Damien looked at her, searching for her motivations in her expression and body language. What she said made very good sense, but he could not escape the instinctive feeling he had that there were ulterior motives behind her logic.

Then again, Jasmine always had ulterior motives to everything she said or did.

“It is very likely one of those whom we would not trust to begin with,” he told her, unconcerned with her reasoning.

“And if it is not?” She sighed in frustration. “It is not like you to ignore potential threats.”

“I am not happy to do so, Jasmine,” he said darkly, “but I am not about to run off and confront a Vampire who is backed by someone like Ruth … and quite possibly black arts as well. Whoever he is, he has killed an innocent. There is no coming back from that. It will change him forever.”

“And you and I have both seen what a Vampirewho crosses that line can become. In the past, you and I would not rest until we stopped such a being. Why do you hesitate now?”

“Because I no longer have only myself to think about, Jasmine.”

“You mean you are afraid of upsetting your fragile little mate?” she taunted him.

“I mean,” he snapped, “that I have a people to run and I am responsible for leading them into this era of peace even you have seen the wisdom of. If I should die now, who knows what manner of Vampire will supersede me?”

“It would very likely be me,” she said cockily. “Do you have so little faith in my upholding your ideals?”

“You?” He laughed harshly, purposely provoking her indignant emotions. “Jas, you cannot manage to stay aboveground more than a century at a time. You would be deposed the moment your first melancholy struck.”

“That is not fair!”

“It is, or you would not be so upset by it,” he pointed out, being a little more gentle with her now. “You do not have the patience to rule, dearest. I love you and I depend on you very much, but I know you. In your heart, you know it, too. My death, which would be necessary for you to reign, would by itself send you into a tailspin of pain and depression.”

“You think far too much of your importance to me,” she said, but they both knew it was pure bravado. “Anyway, I am not asking you to engage in battle. I think we should do some recon, however. Tell me you do not burn to know who would betray our people in such a way and I will promise you never to suggest it again.”

As usual, Jasmine knew him too well, so she called him on his bluff perfectly.

“I suppose you have a proposition on how we should go about discovering this?” he asked, ignoring the triumph that lit her eyes.

“We should start at the Library. Perhaps we will find a clue there. If we are lucky, Ruth’s trail will not be too cold to follow.”

“Jasmine …”

“Just to follow,” she said quickly. “Only we would have the power to sneak up close without detection from her.”

“And what if the Vampire is powerful enough to detect us?”

“Powerful enough to circumvent your cloaking abilities? Even I cannot do that.”

Damien went silent for a long minute, trying to make himself think clearly, rather than act on impulse. He wanted to do this; more than anything, he wanted to find out who would do such a thing. Unless punishing that person counted separately. That was one thing he wanted to do with an even greater passion. If they could determine who their traitor was, then they would have an advantage over him. He would think he could still move among them, with others none the wiser for his duplicitousness. Perhaps that would give them the advantage to separate the Vampire from the Demon, making each more vulnerable, to the point where Damien could take care of punishing his own, as he had always done. If there was ever going to be a time when that was possible, it would be now, before Ruth had the opportunity to exploit her knowledge of the Exchange or before the Vampire started to pick up the Demon female’s black magic tricks.

“Very well,” he said at last. “Just give me a few minutes with Syreena—”

“You do not have the time, Damien. Already there must be Lycanthropes tromping over and over our only trail as they start to empty the Library.”

“But I cannot just leave her alone with a house full of Vampires who do not realize who and what she is,” he argued.

“Is she as fragile as that? After killing Nico, I would think her more than capable of keeping a group of mere servants in line.”

Jasmine had a point. He was being a little overprotective. Syreena was a lot tougher than he gave her credit for, and she was very used to running a household full of strangers. There was no one who could really do her any harm. If she could defeat Nico’s son on her own as easily as she had, then she could certainly stand her ground against anyone of the domestics.

Damien’s desire to know who the rogue Vampire was won out over all other concerns.

He left his Romanian holdings quickly, with Jasmine at his side.

It was over an hour before Syreena realized that Damien had completely left the property. In that time, she had been busy settling small squabbles, sorting out duties, and ignoring suspicious glances from more and more corners of the rooms she walked through. The Vampire staff was quickly beginning to realize she was not one of them. She could tell because it was getting increasingly difficult to get them to respond to her requests.

She did not want to go crying to Damien, so she tried very hard to handle it all herself, but she had not a single ally, and it was taking its toll on her ability to be efficient. Jasmine, of course, had been hoping for just such a thing to happen. That was no doubt why she was nowhere to be found.

Syreena expected that, but she had not expected Damien to leave her alone in such hostile conditions. On the other hand, she was glad he had moved out of the way and let her try to take care of everything without him hovering over her shoulder.

“Well, Syreena, you can’t have it both ways,” she muttered to herself under her breath.

He had probably just gone hunting for the night. With or without Jasmine, Syreena couldn’t care less. She did wish him a speedy return, however, as she saw a maid who was supposed to be sweeping out the fireplaces wandering the halls for the third time.

Syreena had had enough by then.

She marched up to the maid just as she entered the main parlor, where four other workers were trying to put it all in order. Syreena gave a glance at the already cleaned fireplace and then let her temper simmer over.

“Oria!”

The chatter in the room ceased abruptly as the girl jumped in her own skin at the way the Princess called her name, the cut of it slicing across raw nerves.

“Yes?” the indolent girl asked, clearly returning to her smirking, uncaring attitude.

“The fireplace in this room has already been swept,” Syreena informed her.

“So?”

Syreena glanced at the avid interest of the four others who were in the room.

“So unless you want to start washing down the lavatories,” Syreena said with pseudocharm, “I suggest you get back to the ones that need cleaning.”

The girl’s hands immediately shot to her hips, her spine straightening in indignation as she worked up a retort.

“And if you sass me,” Syreena interjected in a warning tone, “you will never return to this house again after you get kicked out of it, do you understand me?”

“You can’t do that. You aren’t anybody. Next month Damien will be tossing some other girl around in his bed and you won’t mean a thing!”

There were muffled chuckles from the others in the room.

For about three seconds.

That was how long it took for Syreena to grab the smartmouthed girl around her throat and rush her up against the nearest stone wall with a smack that sounded frighteningly damaging. The maid made a gurgle of protest, her hands reaching to claw at the iron wrist that held her pinned to the wall. The Vampire girl was too young to have learned how to do without oxygen, so she struggled to catch even the smallest portion of a breath.

When the others moved to come to her aid, Syreena turned on them with a snarl of warning that froze them midstep.

“Anyone who thinks to touch me will find out exactly how much I mean to your Prince,” she threatened with cold surety. “I assure you, he will do far worse to you than banish you from his home.”

Her confidence was unnerving to them. Enough to make them step back and watch her with wary eyes as they rethought their actions. She turned back to the chit she had clasped between her fingers.

“Yours will be the lesson that the others learn, girl. I do not like to repeat myself, and I only warn someone once. I am a Lycanthrope Princess, and I am used to being obeyed without question. I will accept no less in my mate’s household.”

And with that one statement, the Vampire grapevine was satisfied and forewarned. The four in the room would quickly tell who and what she was, and that her easy-going nature hid a very short fuse that probably should not be lit.

“Leave this house under your own power, or you will leave it under mine. And remember, you only get one warning.”

Syreena let go of Oria, letting her slide unprepared to the floor. Ignoring the crumpled heap of girl at her feet, she turned to smile at the others.

“You are doing an excellent job in this room. When you are done, do not forget to go to Sybil for new directions. Remember, her voice is the same as mine, just as my voice is the same as Damien’s. I expect you will behave for Sybil far better than this baggage has behaved for me.”

She cast a look of disdain down at Oria, then turned so she could find Damien.

After Syreena had left, the indignant female Vampire got to her feet in fury. She marched up to the others.

“Do you believe the nerve of that foreigner? Who does she think she is? Mate? Damien’s mate? Damien would never bind himself to a non-Vampire!”

“Shut up, Oria,” one of the men snapped impatiently. “What do you know of Damien? The Prince has been gone for a very long time, certainly longer than you have been alive.”

“You better leave, girl, if you know what’s good for you,” a second worker said. “If she’s telling the truth, Damien will have your head for mouthing off to her.”

Outnumbered now, Oria suddenly realized she no longer had a choice in the matter. The shapechanger had won, she had lost, and there was very little she could do about it.

So with a flounce of outrage, she left the compound.

When Damien still had not returned after an hour, Syreena began to question where he might have gone to. She did not know his habits all that well, but he had not struck her as the sort to dawdle over a hunt when he had so many things to do. Jasmine had not returned, either, and that only served to treble the Princess’s concerns. She left the main halls and rooms, leaving them to a measurably subdued household staff. After the incident with Oria, they were more agreeable and inclined to do as she asked, so she did not worry about leaving them to complete their tasks without cracking a whip over them every minute.

Syreena made her way to Jasmine’s new quarters. Perhaps they would reveal a clue as to where they had both disappeared to.

What she found upon opening the door was a very young Vampire girl, carefully folding and hanging clothes in Jasmine’s wardrobe. The small girl, just barely a woman by her looks, went wide-eyed when she saw Syreena. She sketched an immediate curtsy to the Princess, which made her smile. It was the first act of respect from any of her new staff.

“Hello, young one,” Syreena greeted her gently. “Do you know where your mistress is?”

“Standing before me, miss,” the girl answered instantly.

Syreena smiled at her eagerness to please and not offend.

“Perhaps. I suspect that Jasmine will expect you to be loyal to her over me, however, and I will not hold that against you if you are in conflict. What is your name?”

“Lucia.”

“Lucia, have you seen my … your Prince?”

“Yes, miss. He left with my mistress a couple of hours past.”

“Do you know where he has gone?”

Now Lucia hesitated, the contest in her thoughts clear in her expression.

“Lucia, I only wish to know because … because I am concerned that they have not yet returned. If my concerns are unfounded, merely say so and I will believe you.”

“I cannot say so,” Lucia breathed softly. “I am not supposed to know where they have gone, but I do.”

“Would you care to explain that?” Syreena asked as patiently as she could.

“I was in the hall and overheard my mistress—Jasmine, I mean, speaking in another room to the Prince. They have gone to discover the identity of a Vampire they were calling a traitor.”

Syreena felt as though her heart had suddenly stopped beating. She knew instantly what Lucia was speaking of, even if the girl herself did not.

“I thank you for your directness, Lucia.”

“And I thank you, miss,” the girl returned quickly. “The others will never say so, but they have longed for Damien to return to the homeland. If you are the reason why that has been possible, then we all owe you thanks. I know so many who have missed his attentiveness to this region.”

Syreena nodded in a combination of acknowledgment and farewell. She backed out of the room, her thoughts full of emotion and racing speculation.

Oddly enough, she focused on the more inane portion of information first. She had not realized that Damien had not been home in so long. Even though she had been faced with the layers of dust coating all the surfaces of his dwelling, it appeared that this had occurred over a much longer time than she had originally assumed. From what Lucia said, it had been long enough for Vampires to feel neglected, something that would probably take a great deal of time to occur in a species who marked time in large increments. She wondered why that was, and what had driven or kept Damien away until he’d had no real choice but to return.

And then the more serious reality and realization struck her. Damien and Jasmine had gone off to do exactly what he had promised her only hours ago that he would not do. He had claimed to understand how irrational an act it would be to risk himself in such a way, and had sworn to think about her needs and feelings before making such reckless choices ever again.

Syreena felt a sense of betrayal on top of a deeply driven fear. She wanted to believe that he and Jasmine could care for themselves, but how could she trust that when she could not even trust him to keep his word on so important a promise? How could she live the rest of her life with someone who double-talked her, then waited until her back was turned before doing exactly what he wished anyway? How could she securely believe anything he said if these were the things he would do?

It hurt to think he would do something like this. She had so wanted to believe him, had found it so easy to do so once she had made up her mind about where she belonged. Had she so misjudged his character? Had they all? Was her judgment so poor all of a sudden?

No. She had to try not to be that hard on herself and on him. Damien was passionately disturbed by the idea of a traitor amongst his people. He was used to them being somewhat untrustworthy, but only in certain matters and up to a certain point. Anything beyond that certain point, well, it was clear that he took such a betrayal very personally. Syreena knew Siena’s reaction would very likely be quite similar in passion and strength had this sort of thing occurred in her court.

However, Syreena would have advised caution to her sister, and her sister would have listened to her and obeyed, trusting her wisdom on the matter, or she would have put her foot down without giving opportunity for arguments. Siena would not have made a pretense of agreeing with the Princess, and then snuck out behind her back like a naughty child dodging curfew.

Syreena would be damned if she was going to let Damien think he could be this capricious with his promises to her. She could accept his Vampiric ways, from boredom to the need for strange relationships and amusements, but she would never accept duplicitousness.

It only took her a few minutes to conclude where they would have started the kind of hunt they were on. She ran through the stone rooms until she found one with a window that opened outward into the cold night.

She leapt over the sill instantly.