Jabril Page 51



Alexandra's eyes widened in surprise, and for the first time her face reflected an uneasy concern. “You have been bewitched by this human,” she snarled. “I tried only to save you. You'll understand one day, and you'll thank me."


Raphael regarded her silently, waiting.


Alexandra jerked her hand in a nervous gesture, as if waving away his anger. “I am your sister, Raphael. Your blood. You cannot choose a human, even this one, over your own blood. You love me."


"Five hundred years ago,” Raphael said gently, “I loved a child named Sasha.” His voice hardened. “You I don't even know.” He gestured and Juro stepped up to Alexandra, his massive paw closing around her arm like a manacle.


Alexandra struggled uselessly, trying to pull away. “Raphael!” she cried. “You can't do this! I'm your—” Raphael simply glanced at her. Her pleas were cut off mid-syllable as she struggled to speak against his compulsion, leaving her with nothing but wordless sobs of disbelief as Juro and his brother carried her away between them.


Mirabelle was still kneeling on the floor, her mouth hanging open in shock, her expression more than slightly touched by relief as Alexandra was escorted from the room.


"Mirabelle.” Her head swiveled around when Raphael spoke her name and she cringed in fear.


"I would never—” she began again.


"I know that, child. I never suspected you. Go now. Elizabeth has been asking for you."


Mirabelle scrambled to her feet and bowed quickly. “Thank you, my lord,” she said fervently. Her gaze skittered quickly over to Cyn and away before she hurried from the room. Duncan followed her, closing the door behind him and leaving them alone.


Cyn circled around the desk to Raphael, and he reached out automatically to pull her close. She burrowed against his broad chest and asked, “What will you do?"


"The Council has called a meeting to deal with Jabril's empty territory,” Raphael responded wearily. “Most likely they'll throw it open to anyone who can hold it. None of Jabril's minions are strong enough to challenge for the right—no one who wants it, anyway. And besides, there are many young ones agitating for greater power in the territories. This will release some of that pressure."


"That's not what I—” she started to say, but the look in his eyes told her he didn't intend to give her any other answer. She stared back at him, uncertain how she felt about that.


"I am Vampire, Cyn,” he said, as if that explained everything.


"That's not good enough,” she told him. “I won't let you hide behind that inscrutable vampire shit. I want to know what you're going to do with Alexandra."


Raphael regarded her out of flat black eyes. “You nearly died."


"I'm aware of that. And if I had died out there in the desert, my ghost would have haunted you mercilessly until you destroyed every one of the motherfuckers who did it.” His soft lips crooked up in a slight smile. “But I didn't die, Raphael."


"She intended you to die. Or worse. Far worse."


Cyn frowned up at him. “Is this really about me? Or is it about you? She betrayed you too that night. More than me. Is this just some vampire bullshit?"


He gave an impatient sigh and pulled away. He would have walked away from her, but she put a hand on his arm, holding him in place. “Don't kill her, Raphael. You'll never forgive yourself. You'll never forgive me."


His eyes flashed to meet hers.


"This is the woman you moved heaven and earth for, catering to her every whim, for how many centuries, Raphael? You hired me to find her when your enemies took her from you, and destroyed every one of them in revenge. Don't tell me you have no love for her, even if it's only love for the child she used to be. Her death will hang over you, over us, like a cancer, eating away at everything we are until every time you look at me you'll see nothing but her death.” She stepped closer to him, placing her palms flat against his chest. “I can't live that way, Raphael. I won't. I love you too much."


He looked away from her, but before his eyes left her face, she saw a brief flash of relief in their obsidian depths. She felt him sigh, felt his entire body relax beneath her hands.


"Very well, lubimaya. I will spare her. But she will know it was you she owes for her life."


Cyn shrugged. “I hope she chokes on it. Believe me, I have no love for Alexandra."


He smiled then, as if she'd once again said something he expected and it pleased him. He pulled her against his body, holding her firmly within the circle of his arms. “I'm thinking of chaining you to my bed from now on,” he murmured against her hair. “I'm tired of waking up to find you gone."


She snorted. “You can try."


He swept her up and into his arms. “I can do better than try, lubimaya. There are many kinds of chains."


"Kinky,” she commented. “Do your best, Lord Raphael."


"With you, my Cyn, always."


Epilogue


"Buffalo?” Cyn repeated in disbelief.


"I know,” Sarah agreed ruefully. “But it's a good university, and the job's tenure track. Plus, it's not in California, and you know I want out of here."


"Honey, Buffalo's about as far from California as you can get and still be in the United States. They have real winters there, you know. Watch the weather channel. They're always showing footage of Buffalo with people up to their asses in snow."


Sarah laughed. “You're so crude, Cyn."


"Yeah, well. It comes from being a cop."


"I think you just use that as an excuse."


Cyn smiled. “Busted."


"So,” Sarah said, dragging the one syllable out. “You have something you want to share with me?"


Cyn took a sip of her martini, giving Sarah a wide-eyed look over the rim of the glass.


"Oh, come on, Cyn. Let me see the rock."


Cyn laughed. “Oh, you mean this little thing?” She held out her hand and Sarah took in the gorgeous little thing. There were at least five carats sitting on that slender finger, and that was only the pillow-cut diamond in the center. She'd bet on another few carats in the channel set band around it.


"It's beautiful, Cyn. But you know that. So, when's the wedding?"


"Wedding?” her friend scoffed. “You know how I feel about marriage. Besides, vampires don't get married, they have this whole mating thing they do."


"Mating? Like gorillas?"


Cyn laughed. “Very similar, yeah."


"So does this mean you're going to become a vampire? Should I start covering my neck when you're around?"


"Hardly. Vampires don't usually marry other vampires. I asked the same question once.” She paused to take another sip of her drink. “You know how the sex is rumored to be—"


"Mind blowing,” Sarah provided dryly.


"Well, yeah. Anyway, taking blood is linked to sex for them, so if I become a vampire, then Raphael would have to go somewhere else for his blood, and since it's tied in with sex..."


"Oh."


"Right. You know me. I don't share well."


Sarah chuckled. In truth Cyn was generous to a fault, but she'd never say that to her friend's face. It might dent that carefully cultivated tough girl image. “What about the age thing, though? I mean, he'll stay young and you'll—"


"That's the beauty of it. He takes my blood and I take his. Not much, but—"


"Gross! You're drinking his blood?” Sarah looked around quickly and lowered her voice. “Yuck, Cyn!"


"It's not that bad,” Cyn chided her. “Besides it's just a little bit, and it keeps me young and gorgeous.” She grinned and leaned forward conspiratorially. “And it makes the sex even better."


Sarah blew out a breath. “Okay. TMI. Let's change the subject. You still have your agency?"


"No,” Cyn said regretfully. “That had to go. It's hard to do undercover work when you've got a bodyguard hanging around all the time."


"You've got a bodyguard?"


"Yeah. It was either that or a tattoo on my forehead. I took the bodyguard. As a matter of fact...” She gestured over Sarah's shoulder. “See that guy over there by the bar?"


Sarah twisted to look and found herself staring at a tall, well-muscled black man who seemed to be rather obsessively focused on their little corner of the room. Her eyes widened and she whipped back around to Cyn. “That's a vampire?” she whispered.


"Yeah. Hard to tell, huh? You get used to it. And speaking of vampires..."


There was a sudden stir in the crowded bar. Conversations died to whispers and people shuffled aside, clearing a path for someone entering through the street door. There were two men, one blond and one dark, but it was the dark-haired one who drew everyone's attention. Tall and broad-chested, with a face that could only be described as beautiful, he moved with the lethal sort grace she usually associated with something dangerous and wild. Women and men both straightened where they stood or sat, their faces rapt, eyes glassy as they sort of ... leaned in his direction. She heard Cyn laugh gaily and looked over at her friend.


"Tell me that's not him,” she said in disbelief.


"That's my honey,” Cyn confirmed.


"Oh, man,” Sarah said in admiration. “Where can I get me one of those?"


"Probably not in Buffalo,” Cyn commented dryly. She took a final sip of her martini and stood. “My ride's here, hon. Good luck with the job. I hope they know how lucky they are to have you."


"I'll be sure and tell them,” Sarah said. She reached out and they exchanged hugs.


"Send me your new address when you have it."


"I will. And good luck with ... you know. Everything. I'm really happy for you, Cyn."

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