Chapter Six

Celina thumbed through the book in front of her. She suppressed a yawn, still unused to working during the night and sleeping through the day, but she’d been told it was the way that some nests worked. What I wouldn’t give for a coffee right now.

Bertha had become standoffish in the last few days, and she half understood why. Idris had been sent away, and she’d disappeared without warning Bertha or anyone else and nearly got herself killed then had spent a day sequestered in the master’s rooms.

She’d also found the artifact.

No neophyte was supposed to do anything like that. Or so Bertha had informed her.

“So now I’m stuck here practicing warding.” Bertha had given her specific instructions to practice erecting wards on the items in the rooms they used. After they were up, she would try to break through the spell work. It was an attempt to work out her strengths and weaknesses but Celina chafed. “I’d rather be doing something useful.”

“Warding is very useful. If done correctly it will keep the uninvited out of our living quarters. And believe me, I remember the torching of the manor all those years ago. So don’t whinge. Just do what you are asked.”

“Torching of the manor? What happened?” She leaned forward hoping to learn more, but Bertha just shut her mouth and refused to say anything. In disgust, Celina took another look at the book and snorted.

Celina picked up her athame and prepared her circle, then cleared her mind. Her slow and careful movements were assessed by Bertha, she knew. Celina called upon the light, something she’d already shown an affinity for. This time the energies flowed easily as she raised her arms and imagined a dome settling over the doll’s house she’d been given to start with. The flare of pink light no longer surprised her. She kept the energies pouring down until she was certain they were complete, then finished her task.

As Bertha stepped forward, Celina dismissed the circle and hovered against the wall, watching in silence.

Bertha cast a circle and set to work. But no matter what she did, Bertha could not break the spell she’d wrought. Eventually, her mentor stepped beside her. “I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve created a ward I cannot break. So let’s go outside and practice on something larger, shall we?”

Celina and Bertha had just emerged from the basement into the corridor when the noises began.

Celina hurried quickly to the doorway, to find it barred. “What’s going on?” She could hear the anxiety in her own voice. But damn it, she needed to know.

“We are under attack.” Javed’s terse words stopped her. She inhaled deeply, understanding that this, the place where they existed, wasn’t as safe as she’d thought it.

“What?”

“Attack. Now stay inside safely.” He brushed past her and out through the door he’d cracked open.

She wanted to stop him, but knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. Her stomach roiled as the sounds of fighting filled the air. Cries and clangs married with thuds. Screams rent the night, and she shivered.

Javed. Surely, he should have stayed inside? As he was the master, surely the nestlings were supposed to protect him? But even as the thoughts surfaced, she squashed them. He was a fighter. She’d already seen that in the way he walked, his body loose and with a long vicious-looking curling sword and the UV gun strapped to his side. She’d seen the way his attention had zeroed in on whatever was going on outside. In his eyes there had been a flat distant look.

“He’ll be fine.”

She shivered at Bertha’s words. “How do you know that? You can’t be certain.”

Bertha laid her hand on Celina’s. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to stop the hot sting of tears.

Celina had to hold herself still as the sounds of the battle raged. She needed to know that he was safe, but also understood she had nothing to offer the nest during this time. Her heart continued to race as the adrenaline kicked in.

How long the skirmish went on for, she couldn’t honestly say. Minutes and seconds flowed and ebbed, yet the battle felt as if it was outside of the regular flow of time. She knew Bertha stood beside her, working as her hands twitched. She felt the magic filling the space around her and hated that she had nothing to do. No way to either protect or help those battling outside. Not like at the gallery. She now knew, if and when this happened again, she would have skills to offer.

A stray memory seeped. “The stone! I can use the stone. Let me out there.” She turned to the vampire guard at the door, but he shook his head almost apologetically.

“The stone would be no good. We would need to get it outside, then have both camps separate. Which isn’t how battle works.”

The small feeling of usefulness melted away. “But—”

He shook his head again. “You just need to wait.”

The sounds of the battle grew dim, less distinct until it stopped totally. She made to step to the door, but the guard held out his hand. “Not yet.”

She gulped. What else could be happening? The air was thick with tension, so thick that breathing had become hard. But still she waited.

Finally, the door opened and some of the nest vampires carried the injured within, before heading to the secured zone. She peered into the gloom, discerning some small movements. She curled her fingers into the palms of her hands and she took a tentative step forward.

Even as she reached the door, he was there. “Javed!” His face was drawn and tight, but infinitely welcome to her.

She flung herself forward, needing to touch him. To assure herself that he’d come through intact. He oomphed as she launched herself, then slid her arms around his waist, holding on tightly.

He felt warm and comforting and she sank into the embrace. Now she allowed herself to experience the desperation that had zinged through her while he’d been outside. “I was so scared.”

He grunted.

She frowned. “Javed?”

He made a sound and for the first time she felt something wet trickling against her arm. Then he slumped, and she grappled with him. “No!”

The guard was there dragging him from her arms before he slumped to the ground.

Horror filled her as she watched him being swept away while she stood, frozen in place as the guard carried him from the room. She missed the dark, damp patch that bloomed on his back.

* * * *

Awareness came slowly. “The nest?” The rasp sounded unlike his usual voice, and he frowned, hoping it was only a temporary weakness.

“Safe.”

His first thought had been of the household but swiftly on its heels came concern for those who had recently joined him in the newly formed nest.

Now he knew the nest hadn’t been breached, he feared for Celina’s safety.

His last memory had been of her launching into his arms. He cracked one eyelid open and hissed as the overhead light seared his vision.

“Back with us, are you? A good thing too!” The dry tones of Kharisma were imbued with relief.

“What happened? Where’s Celina?” He closed his eyes and concentrated on listening to her answer while his body ached. In particular his back burned. Javed felt the descent of his teeth and breathed deeply, hoping to dispel the hunger that now ravaged him.

“Well, in case you didn’t realize it, you took a nasty slice along your back.” Her voice had settled into the matter-of-fact cadence he was used to. “And Celina is fine. And the rest of the nest too, so thank you for asking.”

He grunted, smelling blood nearby. A goblet was thrust into his hands and he sat upright, drawing it to his mouth before greedily gulping down the contents. “More?”

A laugh met his request and this time when he glanced up Kharisma was smiling at him. “Here. This should sate your need for now.”

The goblet was refreshed and he took his time, letting his mind whir into action.

“So… Was the artifact the reason we were attacked?”

Her grin died away to be replaced by a thoughtful expression. “It could be, but we haven’t yet found what the secret could be.” She sank to the side of the bed. “No one in the nest seems to be able to find the importance of the item, even though we’ve had the human nestlings working on it since we retrieved it. The only thing that has come to mind is…” She stopped and grimaced.

Inside Javed, a niggling suspicion formed. “What?”

“Well, I’m wondering if she—Celina—couldn’t have been wrong about it, could she?” Kharisma glanced away.

For an instant a spurt of anger rose in his chest. “No. I don’t believe so.” He controlled his temper, but when she turned back he could still read the doubt on her face.

“But no one can find…”

He groaned. “Has anyone contacted Cressida?”

Kharisma backed away. “Hey, that’s your job. But if it’s any consolation, I did contact Xavier.”

“And?” He closed his eyes, looking for some internal strength in the face of his first significant hurdle.

“He said if you didn’t come round before dawn, to let him know. Thankfully you weren’t out for that long.”

He pushed off the bed, the blood having done its job. It had begun the healing process and while he wasn’t fully healed, the pain was little more than a dull throb now.

“What do you think—?” Kharisma made to push him back to the bed, but he waved her away.

“We need to find out what the hell we are dealing with. Now, where did you store it?” He could tell immediately that she knew what he was talking about.

Kharisma grimaced. “Were else would I put it? In the safe room.”

Javed stood, wobbling slightly, but was determined to show everyone that he might have been down, but he had no intentions of staying out. “We need to sort this. Meet me in my office with it.” He left the room and headed for the private work suites.

He padded through the open areas while the nestlings watched him, open-mouthed. He ignored their stares as he entered his work area. The room itself was as soulless as the rest of the house. The pale tones of white and cream sat at odds with the butter-colored leather of the seats and the wood furnishings. He wasn’t really comfortable with the house or the furnishings if he were honest. The only rooms that held his stamp were his private quarters, but it was the best option he had been able to find in the tight time frame he’d needed to meet.

He let his mind cast over what they knew about the sword and scabbard. Perhaps there was something on the blade that they needed?

Even as Kharisma opened the door and entered, he was still trying to consider the options.

“Here it is.”

She placed the package carefully on his desk. He unwrapped it, lifting the sword first then running his fingers over the iron of the hilt. But while it was old and engraved with herr Jesu Christ der du der Guender heiland on one side and Führer durch deine Barmherzig zeit anno 1603 on the other, there was nothing unusual about it, except it was clear that it was an executioner’s sword.

With a heavy sigh, he placed it on the wood and turned to the scabbard. It was old, covered in decaying leather, but even as he ran his fingers along it, he could find nothing to give him a clue as to the secrets it hid.

“Kharisma, would you ask Celina to come here?” He murmured the words, sliding the blade into the scabbard and while it didn’t slide well, it did eventually slide within. He pulled it back in disappointment.

* * * *

When Kharisma called her on the internal phone system she shook a little. Did this mean that Javed had recovered? Had he decided she was more trouble than she was worth? Or… Was he humiliated by her over-eager embrace?

Even as she hurried down to the office, she accepted it was too much. Her stomach quivered, but she refused to give in to the worry that stripped her confidence.

She reached the door, her mouth dry, and knocked softly.

His “Come in” was muffled

She gulped before entering. Her hand slid on the handle, but she pushed the door open and entered. He sat, uncomfortably, his face tight. “You called for me?”

He indicated the items on his desk. “You found these in the gallery, but I need to know if you feel anything that will help us to work out their importance?”

“I… I don’t know.” She touched the blade, then shivered and slid her hands quickly away. “I don’t like that.”

His laugh was discomforting.

“What?” She spoke sharply.

He stilled. “It’s an executioner’s sword.”

Celina couldn’t contain her gasp. “Oh God! You have to be kidding me!”

Javed thrust the scabbard into her hands. “What about this?”

She ran her fingers over it, grimacing at the negative emotions that swirled in her mind, being so close to it. She traced a pattern of something unseen, letting herself seek anything hidden. It was on her third pass at the throat of the scabbard that she felt something, a roughness slightly raised. She frowned. “There’s something here.”

Celina pressed a nail into the leather. “Right here. There’s something hidden.” She couldn’t explain how she knew, just that something felt out of place.

Javed took it from her hands. “Are you sure?”

She stopped for a moment before nodding. “Yes.”

He tugged a small dagger from his boot.

She quirked an eyebrow. “A dagger in your boot?”

“Old habits die hard.”

She laughed as he sliced into the leather. It came away in strips, revealing the metal below and … “What is…?” A piece of parchment fell to the desk.

He lifted his head as she reached out. “Wait!”

He used the dagger to carefully turn over the brittle item and she grimaced. She moved forward and so did Kharisma. Without touching the parchment, he stroked the blade over it and flattened it. It creaked. Celina held her breath, not wanting to damage what they had found.

They could see the writing on it, though the edges were jagged and clearly torn. “Can you read that?”

He shook his head. “Kharisma, we need to get someone to look at this tomorrow.”

The sound of rattling blinds filled the air. “Dawn is nearly upon us. We should retire.” Kharisma caught her gaze. “I’ll leave you now.”

Celina waited as Kharisma backed away, then watched as the woman left the room. Now alone with Javed, Celina was sure her stomach had somehow tied in knots, and she didn’t know what he was going to say. Instead, he rose in silence and prowled around the desk, and she couldn’t ignore his presence.

“You are unharmed?” His gaze pierced her to the core, and she shivered.

“I’m good. And you?”

He smiled slowly. “I’m quick to heal.” He held out a hand, and she felt the flip-flop inside her tummy as nerves quivered inside her.

“That’s… That’s good.” She curled her fingers into a fist, wanting to reach out and touch him. But she couldn’t, could she? But he appeared as ill at ease as she felt and she didn’t know what to do, for the life of her. Should I go? Should I wait? What is the best option?

“Celina…” He broke off with a groan, grabbing her to him, his motions jerky and urgent. He kissed her, and the feel was electric.

The fiery kiss ended when she pulled away, needing oxygen. Black stars had formed in her vision, and she panted as if she’d run a marathon. Their bodies tightly mashed together.

“Celina, will you…”

“Javed, I…”

They both laughed, their words halted, and for an instant she gloried in the sense of lightness in her being. But she sobered again quickly.

“Join me? Spend the day with me?” Javed’s quiet words filled her with warmth.

Can I take this step? Even as she questioned it, she nodded. “Yes.” Just one simple word, yet it carried such promise.

He curled his hand around hers and together they headed to the secure apartments.

“Wait!”

He glanced at her.

She reddened before him. “I um… I’ll need fresh clothes.”

He grinned and her stomach curled at the heat she discerned in the depths of his gaze. “Well, will you need them during the day? But yes, tomorrow you will need something fresh.”

She gulped. “If I just run up…”

“I’ll come with you.” With those words, they turned companionably and headed to the stairs in silence. When they arrived at her door, her throat felt stuffed, and her mind spun.

One day. He’s offering me one day. Would it be enough? She honestly didn’t know. But she’d take what he offered right now.

He entered the room behind her, and she hurried, grabbing up the first small overnight bag she found in her cupboard. In the bathroom she grabbed toiletries then headed back to the dresser for fresh clothing, jeans and top, bra and panties. She didn’t look at him, otherwise she feared they wouldn’t make it downstairs. She knew he’d tested her bed, laying one hand on the coverlet and pushing down before grunting his satisfaction.

“It’s bare. Are they all like this?” His words stopped her quick actions.

“I don’t know.”

He nodded in silence before holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”