Chapter 32
"What do you want to know?" Jorick asked, though he didn't give her his full attention.
"What do I want to know? How about 'Is New Hampshire where Arowenia is'?"
He tore his gaze away from the TV. "I won't tell you, and I've already explained why. It's safer for everyone that way."
"Fine," she snapped and savagely screwed the lid back on the bottle of nail polish. "Maybe you can tell me what happened last night? Or is that privileged information?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, it's not."
"That's a change," she bit back sarcastically. "Then who is The Guild and why were they there? Were they looking for Arowenia?"
His answer was a dark monosyllable, a contrast to the bright too-happy commercials on the screen. "Yes."
"So, they work for Claudius?"
"No."
She ground her teeth together and resisted the temptation to make a fist and bash him. After all, it would ruin the coat of polish. "Then why are they looking for her? Who do they work for?"
He sighed and turned his head to look at her. Finally she had his complete attention. "They work for themselves. The Guild is a group of vampires - mostly old, ancient vampires - who've made The Laws. When someone breaks The Laws, they're punished by The Guild's death squad."
"Laws? You have laws?" she raised her brows incredulously. "And a government? Why not?" She waved her hand, dismissing the question before he could answer it. "So these 'Guild' people - "
"Executioners," he interrupted. "And guards."
"Executioners?" she repeated disbelievingly. "That's what they're called?"
"Yes, the ones with the medallions. The others were just guards. They sometimes augment the Executioners when they think they need a large force. Though the numbers they sent were extreme and unnecessary." He scowled darkly. "Probably Senya or Bren's doing."
"But what were they doing there? Why were they looking for Arowenia?"
"Because The Laws were broken when she was kidnapped. You may not harm nor take the possessions of others. Though Arowenia is a vampire herself, and thus should have certain rights, she was made in the old days, when the Master could claim ownership over his Fledglings." He was very cavalier about the whole thing. "The old Laws are still upheld in those cases."
"So Vamp-" she stumbled on the word, amending herself. "So they own you if they," she hesitated, "make you one?"
"No." He shook his head. "New Fledglings can't be owned anymore."
She ignored the intricacies of vampire ownership. "So the Executioners and the guards, they just, what? Go around policing people? I mean who's in charge?"
"The Guild," Jorick murmured with minimal impatience. "It's more than just the guards and Executioners. Think of it as a government. There's a High and Low council, among other committees. It's The Guild that tells the Executioners and the guards where to go and what to do. Claudius obviously complained to them, so they dispatched a squad."
"You can just complain to them?"
"Of course. You can complain to your police, can't you?"
She rolled her eyes. "That's different. The Police are there to 'protect the people', not butcher them!"
"I won't argue the point," he said quietly. "I have no love for them, though I realize that there has to be someone in charge, to keep everyone in line. In that respect The Guild is necessary."
"Necessary? You have to be joking! They murdered Alexander! And what about Jesslynn and all the servants? Sure, she was a bitch and she scared me to death, but why did she need kept in line?"
Jorick sighed and then his voice grew remote and detached, as though he were reciting something he'd learned by rote. "Jesslynn broke The Laws when she created those children. You must never make a vampire that cannot care for itself; that isn't fully grown. It's against The Laws to trap a spirit into eternal childhood. If you do, you are punished, and the children are killed, freeing the spirit.
"The humans were killed because no vampire may have a human servant unless they are marked property; it's against The Laws for fear that the vampire will become careless with the number of humans they have and let some slip through their fingers. If the humans left without the Master's knowledge, whether in anger or no, they could spread word to the general population. Because his servants weren't marked and had seen what Jesslynn, Oren, and the others were, this meant they knew about us and they had to die."
Her hand went unconsciously to the still tender spot above her collar bone, fingering it gingerly. "Why does marking them make any difference?"
Jorick snorted. "Truthfully? I doubt it does any more. But when cities were smaller and population less dense it made it easier to track them." He mused silently for a moment and then amended, "Though I suppose The Guild could track missing humans through the medical system or the legal system. Whichever documents your scars and such."
Katelina wasn't sure who did that, if anyone did. But she'd heard a lot of "big brother" conspiracies, so it was hard to tell. With nothing to add, silence fell on the small room and it was several moments before she could bring herself to break it. "Why did they spare us?"
"Because Malick ordered them to." He turned back towards the television as Yogi reappeared, though he no longer smiled at the cartoon bear.
"Who is Malick?"
"He's the leader of The Guild."
The words hung in the air between them and left Katelina confused. She cocked her head at him curiously and tried to keep her voice light and not let her half-formed suspicions sneak into the tones. "Why would he give them orders to spare you?"
"Because Malick is my Master." His voice was flat and held no feeling as he stared through the television at some unseen memory. "My Maker."
She bit her lip and found herself using the non-word she always did when others failed her. "Oh."
He continued to stare straight ahead. The muscle in his jaw twitched and his voice was grim. "I served The Guild for many, many years. I was Malick's right hand, his avenging angel of death. Then one day I sickened of it."
The tone in his voice made something tighten in her chest. Her hand reached towards him, but she stopped and dropped it back to her lap, unsure. "I'm sorry," she said softly, though she didn't know what she was sorry for.
"Do not be sorry, little one," his voice lightened as he turned to her. He studied her for a moment, then he rolled over on his side and pulled her towards him. She slid down in the bed until she was stretched out and pressed tightly against him. "It's the way it is," he continued reasonably. "What's happened has happened, and there's nothing that can undo it."
She lay in the warm circle of his arms. Her heart pounded in her chest, even as she wanted to comfort him. She fought to keep the conversation going; to keep it safe. "They said that next time there'd be no such order?"
His voice caught, "Yes. Malick won't spare me twice." He buried his face in her hair, his breath warm against her neck. He inhaled deeply, as though hiding from ghosts that had come creeping upon him unbidden. "We should leave soon," he murmured. "We might make it before dawn."
She nodded, unable to make her mouth work. Her arms were folded between them, palms pressed against his strong chest. His breath tickled her neck, and she could feel the warmth of his hand through her shirt. She took a deep breath and forced words through her suddenly dry throat, "All right. Let's go."
"In a minute or two." He pulled her closer to him, the length of his muscular body solid against her.
"All right," she repeated. She swallowed hard and tried to calm her racing heart. A vision of his pale hands moving across her naked skin flickered behind her eyelids and repeated itself until her breath sounded strange in her own ears.
He loosened his hold on her and pulled back. His dark eyes studied her face; pools of deep silk that caressed her with their gaze. She felt herself drowning in their depths, like she had so many times before, and she caught her breath. Nervous tremors ran just beneath her skin and she unconsciously bit her lower lip.
He leaned towards her and his lips captured hers. Soft and warm, they silenced the small voice in her mind that tried to remind her he wasn't human.
She responded to him. Her body rose to meet his, unwilling to break the contact. She wanted to lose herself in him and forget everything else. Their kiss deepened. His mouth tasted tangy and coppery, like sucking on a penny. She slipped one arm around him and wadded his shirt tightly in her hand. This moment had happened in her secret dreams already, but finding it in reality was something she hadn't expected. Something she'd told herself she shouldn't look for, let alone want. But here she was on the motel bed, betraying her conscience and enjoying it.
He pulled away reluctantly, and she let him go, her breathing ragged. A smile danced across his lips. His eyes, dark and suggestive roamed her face and moved lower before they snapped back up to look at the clock. He cleared his throat and said quietly, "We'd better go." And though he didn't say it, somehow she knew he meant they'd better go before anything else happened - before they did something she might regret later, something that the other half of her mind was already whispering about.
She managed to nod her agreement, but secretly, she wondered what she was really agreeing with.
