Chapter 510
Katelina shifted in her seat. The plane's engine hummed as the night slipped past outside. After months away, she was relieved to be back in the United States. A lifetime could pass before she'd get on another airplane.
She brushed her blonde hair out of her face and turned to the man beside her. Dark lashes rested on marble-like cheeks. Long black hair fell around his shoulders in a midnight shower. Though he appeared asleep, the silver medallion around his neck rose and fell. Vampires didn't need oxygen. It was only when they were awake, and only by habit, that they breathed.
Jorick opened his eyes and squeezed her hand. "You should relax, little one. We'll be there soon."
"I hope so." Her mother's words echoed in her mind. "Sarah's home!"
Sarah. Her best friend. Who was supposed to be dead tortured to death by a maniac vampire and his minions last October. Katelina remembered when Jorick told her the news news he'd learned from a spy who had no reason to tell tales.
He hesitated, as though he had a hard time finding words. "They went to your house, seeking you, but you weren't there. While they tore things apart for clues, someone else came; a dark haired woman with pale eyes."
"Who?" Though she tried to deny it, she knew the answer; knew who would be at her apartment. "Sarah?"
He didn't nod, only said, "They took her with them. They thought they'd found you. Once they brought her before Claudius, of course, they found out that it wasn't you."
When she'd asked if Sarah was all right, his answer made her sick: "They aren't torturing her anymore."
Though she'd been ignorant about a lot of things back then, she knew what that meant. "Dead? She is, isn't she?"
"Yes, she's dead."
Dead.
Later, Katelina had spoken to members of Claudius' coven who confirmed Sarah was tortured to death. They'd heard Sarah scream, commented how her tormentor, Troy, liked to drag things out. Nowhere was there a mention that she'd survived. The coven hadn't kept her, or Jorick would have discovered her when he stormed the den. No one could have taken her as a pet and run away because every member of Claudius' coven was accounted for. In the end, Sarah had been nothing to them except a moment's amusement. She'd been killed and her body dumped with no one to help her.
Or maybe not. Maybe she'd been found by a local farmer and nursed back to health. But why didn't she come home sooner? Had she been in a coma, labeled as Jane Doe, in a hospital miles from home? Did she remember what happened?
Though Katelina prayed Sarah had forgotten about the vampires, when she'd talked to her on the phone, the sinister edge in her voice seemed to say she remembered everything.
"We have a lot of catching up to do."
As though she planned to tell Katelina all about it, monsters included.
Hopefully she hasn't told anyone else.
It wasn't just that Katelina wanted to keep the paranormal reality away from her friends and family back home, but there were laws. Humans who weren't marked as vampire property weren't allowed to know about the undead. Those who found out were permanently silenced.
A loud guffaw interrupted Katelina's thoughts. She didn't turn to see what was funny. Traveling with vampires from different eras and diverse backgrounds had taught her not to.
Her attention swiveled to the front of the plane where Jamie scribbled on a pile of paperwork. His long black hair was pulled up in a bun and around his neck hung an emblem like Jorick's. It marked them as Executioners: official vampire police of The Guild.
She asked Jorick, "Should you do paper work, too?"
Her boyfriend shrugged. "They'll probably release me on sight."
Katelina's eyes lit with hope. Jorick quit being an Executioner in 1868, long before she'd been born. It was only last January when Malick, The Guild's former leader, forced him back into service. Hopefully the new leader would let them go.
Over the loudspeaker, the pilot asked them to ready for landing. Katelina leaned against the window and watched the ground draw closer. With her new vampire eyes, she could see past the curtain of night: the small rectangles of buildings, the threads of roads, the clusters of trees. The lights of the airstrip throbbed ahead, and she settled back and checked her seat belt. Thank God this was her last flight, and her last chance at crashing. She could still die, even if she wasn't human.
Not human. The words sent a shiver through her. She knew she should be grateful. It had been immortality or death, but it wasn't the way she'd planned it. It had been messy, imperfect, and with the wrong master.
Jorick stiffened, as though he'd heard her thoughts. Maybe he had. Like half the vampires on the plane, he was a mind reader. Had things worked out, she'd be a mind reader, too. Jorick would have turned her in a room draped in silk and lit by candles. It would have been beautiful and romantic. Instead, her last memories were of Malick's desert hideout, followed by vague, half-dream images of her eyes reflected in a knife blade.
She didn't remember her death. A prisoner, she'd crouched in her cell while sounds of attack echoed from above. Malick's henchmen stormed inside to dispose of her. She'd tried to fight, but she was weak. Micah and Loren burst through the door and then- then Micah said her attacker slit her throat. Turning her was all he could do to save her.
Now Micah was her legal master, not that he planned to do anything with the privilege beyond train her to fight. Still, she could feel the worry in the back of Jorick's brain, waiting for Micah to invoke The Laws and command her to be his slave.
The plane touched down and rolled to a stop. The pilot announced that, thanks to time zones, it was just after midnight in Iowa.
Katelina was suddenly aware of the human woman in the seat behind her. The scent of her blood made her stomach tighten. Guilt was instant. She turned and forced a smile, as if that would make up for it. "We're here."
Xandria smiled back. "Where is here?"
Katelina tried not to think about how thirsty she was. "We're at The Guild's airstrip."
"I mean where is Iowa? I've never been to the U.S."
Right. Xandria was a foreigner who'd been owned by an Indian vampire.
"How far is it from California?" she pressed.
Verchiel thumped up from his seat in the back. Messy crayon-colored red hair stuck out at odd angles, left long in the back and spikey on top. Violet eyes twinkled and a grin revealed glittering fangs. The emblem around his neck marked him as one of the elite; a third Executioner. "California is around eighteen-hundred miles."
Xandria choked. "Are you serious?"
"Do you doubt me?" he asked with mock innocence.
Jorick stepped into the aisle. "If she's smart she won't believe a word you say."
"Aw, come on. After everything we've been through, we should be friends."
Torina pushed her way forward. The vampiress' slinky dress gleamed iridescent in the cabin lights. Long red hair fell over her shoulder to tickle ripe cleavage. "Jorick doesn't have any friends."
Katelina rolled her eyes and shoved into the aisle. Lugging a duffel bag, she headed for the door. Outside, Jamie spoke to a vampire in a long gray coat, one of The Guild's guards.
When everyone disembarked, Jamie explained, "There are two SUVs to take us to the citadel. Oren and his coven are asked to remain overnight in case the council wants testimony."
Jorick's fledgling Oren gave a low growl. The sound, coupled with his tawny lion-colored hair and amber eyes, made Katelina think of a great cat ready to pounce. His mood was no surprise. She remembered the conversation he and Jorick had before they left:
Oren crossed his arms and asked, "Is it wise for me to return to the citadel? The last time I was there, I led a revolt against them."
Jorick motioned the objection away. "Your uprising was overshadowed by Malick. That the head of the council would revolt and attack his followers made a greater impact. And your uprising was only possible because Malick disabled security measures."
"So you say, but the coven leaders were executed for the revolt. My brother-in-law"
"Was killed in your place."
"Only because you incapacitated me and hid me in a closet!" Oren took a calming breath. "For which I owe you gratitude, of a sort. Back to the point, what makes you think they won't punish meor Torina, or Micah, or Lorennow?"
"They were released by the council, so they won't be charged again. As for you, a leader was executed. Punishment was given. The High Council has more important things to worry about than one vampire and a failed rebellion they've already recovered from."
Oren looked offended, and the conversation trailed off. It hurt Oren's pride, but Jorick was probably right. The Guild was the government for vampires in all of North America. One puny dissident didn't register.
