The Forsaken

I glanced back at the window as he led me out of the room. “What did you see?”

 

 

“Our enemies encroach.” Andre strode down the hall, and I had to lengthen my stride to keep up.

 

“What’s the game plan from here?” I asked instead.

 

“There is none.”

 

I gave him a sharp look, which he ignored. “None?”

 

Now the corner of his mouth tilted up, albeit a little grimly. “Nothing official, anyway. The moment our plans solidify, seers everywhere will be able to pinpoint our location.”

 

Crap, he had a point.

 

“Wouldn’t they then foresee us arriving in the Isle of Man?” I asked. Those plans had solidified.

 

He led me through the mansion back to his study. “Probably.”

 

We were so doomed.

 

Andre stopped me in front of the door to kiss my forehead. “Trust me in this, soulmate: all is well. I’ll curb my words to protect your mind from seers, but we are not traveling blindly into the unknown.”

 

Funny, it sounded like that was exactly what we were doing.

 

Tybalt hurried over to us. “Sire,” he inclined his head, “your orders have been carried out. We will meet again at week’s end.”

 

Andre slapped him on the shoulder. “You are a good man.”

 

Tybalt’s eyes flicked to mine. I could see his uncertainty; he still didn’t fully trust me. “One of your servants waits in the tunnel with those items you requested. Is there anything else you need?”

 

 

 

“None.”

 

“Then keep yourself and the queen alive. Until then.” He bowed and stepped aside.

 

The queen … not going to lie, I could get used to a title like that.

 

Andre held open the door to the study. Once I’d entered, he followed in behind me. He rounded his desk and crouched behind it.

 

“Andre … ?”

 

A moment later he reappeared, holding several holstered knives. He set them on the desk before ducking below again.

 

Whoa. “Please tell me I won’t need to use that.”

 

“I promise nothing,” he said, placing another two knives on his desk. He bent down once more, and when he stood he pulled out …

 

“A sword?” Seriously? Images of Andre gutting members of the Elysium Order danced before my eyes. “Wait, why do you even have an armory beneath your desk?”

 

Andre strode over to me and began strapping the knives to my legs. “Being the king of vampires is a dangerous position. One can never be too prepared.”

 

Clearly.

 

Andre slung the sword over his shoulder and strapped the remaining knives to himself. He knelt at my side, checking my weapons to make sure they were secure on my body.

 

“If the situation arises, swear to me that you won’t hesitate to use these,” he said, rising to his feet. His hands gripped my arms tightly and his eyes bored into mine.

 

 

 

I tried to speak, then cleared my throat. “I swear it,” I whispered, though I had no idea if I could actually hold up my end of the bargain. Killing bad guys was one thing, but if the Politia came at me, I wasn’t sure I had it in me to put my life above theirs.

 

Andre scrutinized me for a moment, then nodded, seeming satisfied. He grabbed my hand and opened the door that led to the persecution tunnel.

 

We worked our way back through the hallway we came in through. Waiting by the next door was the servant Tybalt spoke of. He held what I presumed was our enchantment bag, though you’d never assume magic had touched it. It was made of leather and canvas and looked painfully ordinary.

 

This girl was not impressed.

 

“The bag contains all the provisions you requested,” the servant said.

 

Andre took it from his servant and slung it over his shoulder. His eyes moved to a bank of screens I hadn’t noticed during my first trip through the tunnel. They’d been set into the walls, and judging from the grainy footage, they were capturing the area surrounding the house.

 

“What have you seen?” Andre asked the man.

 

“Three separate groups watch the house. Most of them have focused their attention on the front and rear exits, but,” he nodded to one of the screens, “In the last five minutes some have staked out the alley.” Our exit.

 

“How did they know?” I asked.

 

 

 

“Seers,” Andre said, studying the screens.

 

The servant didn’t bat an eyelash at the explanation. Andre’s employees must indeed be more than they appear.

 

I studied the footage. At first I saw nothing out of the ordinary, but after looking long enough, certain details popped out. A row of silver Mercedes, a group of people who glanced in a certain direction a bit too often, bulges mostly hidden by loose clothing.

 

“Soulmate.” Andre watched me. “Ready?”

 

I swallowed and nodded. We left the monitors and Andre’s servant. A strange thrill filled me as we crossed that final hallway once more. It was back to me and Andre against the world. If this was how I was going to spend my final days, then I couldn’t complain too much. There was no other company I’d rather keep.

 

Rather than exiting the final door out, Andre circled the motorcycle.

 

I sucked in a breath. “You want us to ride the metal death beast?”

 

Andre slid the bag off his shoulder. From inside it, he pulled out two leather jackets. He handed one to me. “If you’re referring to the motorcycle,” he said, shrugging the jacket over his shoulders, “then yes.” He opened a small compartment at the back of the bike and placed the bag inside it.

 

I slipped on the leather jacket, noting absently that it fit me like a glove. Now I knew what all the leather apparel was for.

 

“My mom would so not be cool with this,” I said.

 

Andre shrugged off his sword to put on his jacket, then fitted the weapon back over the leather. “Your mother would also not be cool with you dying,” he said, zipping up the jacket. “I consider riding a motorcycle the lesser of two evils.” He nodded to the helmet resting on the leather seat. “That’s yours as well.”

 

 

 

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