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The man at the front of the pack tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment, and they begin to speak. I’m too far away to hear what’s being said, though I suspect Remus and his brothers, with their superior hearing, catch every word. The suspicion is reinforced when Remus, Kharon, and Abaddon all tense and lean forward at the same time like they’re getting ready to attack.
Ksenia must sense the same because she places a hand on Kharon’s shoulder from behind. “We need a place to rest,” she reminds him.
He only lets out a small, growled murmur in response, eyes still tensely on the exchange happening between Layden and the man at the head of the group.
But then the brothers’ heads swing toward the right. It takes several more moments before I hear what they obviously already did—a loud motor of some kind speeding towards us.
I frown, wanting to bend over and look through the chopper window but not wanting to draw any attention from the men below. They, too, are looking the same direction, but they don’t seem perturbed by whatever they’re seeing. Layden, also looking that way, smiles like he’s relieved. What on earth?
And then the motorcycle comes into view, louder than ever, circling right behind the gathered men in the courtyard and stopping dramatically. The slight figure pulls her helmet off to reveal a shock of curly dirty blonde hair and a beautiful face.
“Grandpa,” the woman sing-songs, “I’m ho-oooome.” Then she kicks out a stand, leans the bike over and hops off it at the same time, sauntering up to where Layden and the scowling man he was having a glare match with are standing.
She kisses the scowling man on both sides of his cheeks. I frown. Grandpa? The guy looks to be in his early thirties. Then I remember… vampires. And gulp. Holy crap. Am I really looking at a group of vampires? So how on earth is he her grandpa? How do vampires… make more vampires?
Which is when I realize that I am so in over my head and have been for a while now. I thought I could handle being a consort or whatever to a god. And then the rest of his god or supernatural angel family comes home. And oh yeah they’re all the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Then we’re attacked and now seeking refuge with freaking vampires…
A smarter girl would have gotten off this ride about five stops ago.
And maybe I would have. I don’t like danger. I can’t even handle scary movies.
But I do actually know why I keep hanging around, and it’s not even a morbid curiosity that, like the cat, might just get me killed if I’m not careful.
Dammit, this man who’s hand I’m holding has bewitched me. Though I know, or think I know, that in spite of all the supernatural crap swirling around me, it’s the one thing that feels… well, real. Grounded.
So when Layden seems to relax after the woman has a quick conversation with her ‘Grandpa’ and then Layden’s waving a confident hand for us all to depart the helicopter, I’m able to follow confidently. Well, I can pretend confidence with the best of them. I can only pray and trust its not one of the most foolish decisions I’m making in my life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
REMUS
I’m constantly aware of Lo-Ren’s presence as we walk down the ramp and into enemy territory. My nose takes in every scent. My brother’s and their women and children. The summer air and the forest beyond the mountain fortress.
And of course the group of cold, deathless creatures standing in front of us, faces grave in anything but warm greeting. I search the faces of each of them. Granted the one I met so long ago was covered in blood, but I have an excellent scent memory, and I don’t think he is here.
“Hi, I’m Phoenix,” says the woman who rode in on the motorcycle, stepping up and holding out a hand to Abaddon, a welcoming smile on her face as if she is not standing in front of a host of vampires. I frown and tilt my head. This one’s scent is quite different. Like nothing I’ve ever encountered before, and I’ve traveled everywhere there is to travel on this small globe. She certainly does not smell undead.
My eyes flick to Layden, who’s eyes bounce back and forth between her and the men behind her. We wasted time on the plane. We should have been grilling little brother more about the dynamics of the tenuous situation we were walking into.
Abaddon introduces himself and his little family, then the rest of us. We all nod when he says our name.
The man Layden first approached steps forward—Phoenix’s Grandpa Vlad. “Layden never told us of his extensive family when he last visited us.”
The man is tall by human standards, six feet at least, and he has perfectly smooth skin. He watches everyone with his dark eyes.
“I would think one such as you would understand the need to be… circumspect in matters of family.”
Vlad’s eyebrow lifts ever so slightly. “One such as me. And what might one such as you be called?”
“I’ve already told you my name is Abaddon.”
“I was not referring to your name.”
I know my brother well enough to sense the danger in his smile when he responds, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean,” Vlad bends forwards at the waist, inhaling deeply, “that I can smell the power emanating off of you. But you are not witches, nor dybbuks, nor any other wielder of magic I’ve ever met before.”
“Yet my brother spent time amongst you.”
