Page 16 of Lucifer's Mirror
“Of course he won’t be all right—he’s been bitten. But there’s a chance he’ll survive. Let’s hope you or he don’t live to regret that.”
I want to ask what he means. He talks as if I know way more than I do. And I realize that maybe he doesn’t know about my memory loss. I’ve probably given him enough clues, but I get the impression he just thinks I’m a little—or a lot—dim. Which means, he’s likely unaware that I have no idea who I am. Never mind who he is.
My head hurts. Actually, when I think about it, everything hurts. I went down pretty hard. The knees of my jeans are ripped, and the palms of my hands are scraped raw. I’d been too wound up about Zayne to feel it. Until now.
Freaking ouch.
I cast a sideways glance at my new protector. I sense he’s a little reluctant in the role, but he’s doing it anyway. Which is just as well, because Zayne would certainly be dead if he hadn’t arrived when he did. I suspect I would be as well.
Except…
I think back to what happened. It had all been so chaotic and my mind had been completely in panic mode. But the thing that had grabbed me hadn’t tried to rip my throat out the way the other had done with Zayne. It had been dragging me away, and I don’t have any bite marks. They’d wanted me alive. A shudder runs through me.
“What did those things want with me?” I ask.
His gaze flicks from the road ahead to me, a line forming between the savage slash of his brows. “I don’t know.”
Well, that wasn’t much help. I’d been hoping for more. “What do you mean, you don’t know? You must know. Why were you there? Last night, you said you’ve been waiting for me. Youhaveto know.” Otherwise, I’m no better off than I was before. Worse off. Now someone wants to… what? Kill me? Kidnap me? Sell me into slavery? Somehow, I don’t think those creatures were going to tell me I was a princess and return me to my rightful place in a golden palace.
“I know a little. Not enough.” He blows out his breath. “Why did you leave this morning? I thought we had an understanding.”
“Your friend wanted to put me in cuffs. Then you left me alone. And you freaking locked me in!”
“I’m aware of that. Which was why I expected you to be exactly where I left you when I got back. How did you get out?”
I chew on my lip while I consider whether to tell him about the unlocked door and the note and money. I’m not sure how much I want to reveal at this point. Maybe I have an ally in his camp. Or maybe he has an enemy, which might or might not be the same thing. But he has saved me twice now, so he probably deserves a heads-up.
“Someone unlocked my door. And they left me a note saying I was in danger. My money is on your friend, Trystan.”
His head turns slowly to look at me in the dim light. I’m not sure whether he believes me or not, but he doesn’t say a word and finally turns his attention back to the road.
I lean back and gaze out into the night. We’re driving through the countryside; I’m not sure where, and it’s too dark to spot any landmarks.
I want to go home; except I’ve never really had a home. How pathetic is that? My eyes sting, and I blink. I might be pathetic, but I refuse to look it in front of this man.
This all just seems so wrong. I always wanted to know who I was and where I came from. Now I can’t help wondering… Do I really want to know?
We don’t speak again during the drive, but Khaosti doesn’t strike me as the chatty type. I just want to stop moving and get Zayne seen to. I consider suggesting we head to a hospital again, but I sense it will be a waste of time. And for some reason, I trust Khaosti—in this, anyway. Not in everything, but I think he knows what’s best for Zayne, even if he did want to put him down like a rabid dog.
It makes me wonder what’s going to happen to him. What are the side effects of this bite that are so horrendous that Khaosti considers death a better alternative? I swallow and think about asking, but I can’t take it at the moment. I’m just happy right now that Zayne is alive.
But please God, don’t let it be that vampire/werewolf thing where if you get bitten, you turn into one. I really do not want Zayne to turn into one of those black wraiths. My stomach roils at the thought.
After about an hour, the car halts in front of a set of metal gates. I haven’t seen another house for miles. I don’t think getting home from this place will be as easy as catching a bus. Besides, I can’t leave Zayne, so I’m stuck here until he can get around. And who knows how long that will be?
The gates slide open without any visible action from Khaosti. We go through and along a drive lined with big oak trees. Finally, we come to a halt outside a house that looks like a small version of a stately home. I mean, it’s big, but it’s not Buckingham Palace or anything. A wide stone stairway leads up to a double door made of wood and iron. It opens, and a man appears. He’s quite old, with white hair and a lined face, but he seems sprightly enough.
Beside me, Khaosti gets out of the car and moves to the back. He opens the door, leans in, and drags Zayne out. He puts him over his shoulder again and turns to the new guy.
“Sire,” the man says, giving a small bow.
What the heck? Sire? Like in royalty or maybe like in dad? But no way is this guy Khaosti’s son. Something else to add to the list of things to think about.
“Brown.” Khaosti nods. “Is Sheela here?”
“She arrived five minutes ago. She’s waiting in the library.”
Khaosti turns to where I’m still sitting, fixed in place in my seat. I can’t seem to move. He frowns. “Are you coming, or do you want to sleep in the car?”
