“Maybe Byron can tell us who betrayed him,” Shea suggested desperately. “Can’t we wait for what he has to say before we condemn Rand?” What was it that bothered her so much? And what was it Rand said had?
Jacques held her close. “No one wants it to be Rand, little red hair, and you can be assured no one will act without certain proof.”
Shea knew he was seeking to reassure her, even as he believed implicitly that her father was the betrayer. Some part of her knew it to be true. Away from Rand, she was able to see things more clearly. He wasn’t just a man confused and tormented by her mother’s death. He could be a calculating, cold killer.
Shea closed her eyes, unable to face where her thoughts were going. Jacques could not be the one to take Rand’s life. He just couldn’t. Warmth flooded her mind, and his arm tightened protectively around her. There is no need for me to hunt Rand should he prove to be the vampire preying on our people. The others can take care of it. We can go far from this place if that is your desire, my love.
If Rand was the vampire, the betrayer, Jacques would have more reason than anyone to want to ruthlessly destroy him. Yet she could not bear the idea. Thank you, Jacques. I don’t want you to be the one to take his life if it really comes to that.
Let us go to Byron, and I will do as I promised. Then we will find a place to rest.
Shea nodded, her head brushing his chest. She could hear the reassuring beat of his heart, feel the heat in his body rising to meet hers. He was solid and real, and she owed it to both of them to take things slowly and make rational decisions. Right at this moment, Shea was not certain she was capable of such a thing. Her brilliant brain seemed to be malfunctioning lately.
“We go to Byron, healer—do you follow?” Jacques asked.
Gregori reluctantly left Raven to Mikhail. A woman could not be possibly be claimed before her eighteenth birthday.
Every moment of the healer’s existence would be an endurance test, living in hell until the child came of age. He would hunt and feed and resist the kill unless he was called on to dispense justice. That would be the most dangerous of all times, walking away from the power of taking a life. And somewhere, close by, Rand was waiting.
As Gregori turned to follow Jacques and Shea, Mikhail stopped him. “Could the humans have found some kind of chemical to cloak their presence from us? If they have done so, we are all in grave danger, and we must move to meet this new threat.”
“Anything is possible, but it is more likely the vampire is using a shadow spell. It is ancient and all but forgotten. I came across it in the lost book of Shallong. He buried it with his evil tokens in the mountain of souls. I thought no other had dared to travel there.” Gregori glanced after Shea to assure himself she was out of hearing.
“It is entirely possible,” Gregori continued, “even probable, that Rand rose more then seven years ago, found Shea’s mother already dead, and turned. In his hatred he would blame you and Jacques. He could have studied the ancient arts and returned to lead Slovensky and his nephew to kill our people seven years ago. None of us knew he had risen, so he was never a suspect. Jacques thought he knew the betrayer, was close to him at one time. Rand was his family through Noelle.”
“Do you believe Rand would have his own son tortured, mutilated?”
“Noelle’s son, Mikhail. If Rand is as twisted as I suspect, he was the one who aided the humans in their murders seven years ago. We are all in danger, particularly Jacques. The only one who might escape death is Shea, and she would suffer greatly.”
“He knows we will hunt him now. He will try to run.”
Gregori shook his head. “No, he has worked too hard for revenge. This is hatred, Mikhail. He lives to kill, and we are the ones he must seek. He will stay here and continue to try to lure Shea to him.”