Death's Servant

Unable to resist her command, I walk slowly to the door. On the threshold I turn to her, biting out my words, "I will come back to check on you. Make no doubt about that."



She ignores me, her attention solely focused on the Were seated next to her.



I stride toward the mansion, shaking my head in frustration. Damn, that woman is stubborn. How good is her control that she can continue what she's doing and not attack the weres in hunger?



Rafe's deep voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Did she finally kick you out?" He smiles. "You lasted in there a lot longer than I would have guessed."



"Why? It's not like she needed me. She just ignored me most of the time."



He rubs a dusty hand over his hair, resting it on the back of his neck in exhaustion. "She doesn't normally let people watch what she does." He nods toward the building. "I wouldn't doubt she'll alter the alphas perception of exactly what they witnessed when she's done. Not the kind of thing she likes to get out."



"What kind of thing do you mean? That she helped people? Why would she want that to be a secret?"



He heads toward a nearby tree on the lawn and lowers himself to the ground, resting against the trunk. I follow, but remain standing, the energy coiling inside me from the vampire heart still fueling me, pushing me to act, urging me to do something.



"Vampire society is complicated, Jon. Her compassion could be viewed as a weakness and used against her by an enemy."



"Man, that's fucked up."



He nods, his head drifting to the bark in exhaustion. "You have no idea."



I look across the grass at the freed Weres wondering what will happen to them. "What's next? What will we do after Dria finishes?"



"We see the wolves off safely. I called ahead and booked five more rooms at our hotel. They can drive the liberated vampire cars and any valuables they find to the hotel. After that, it's up to them. Their alphas need to be the ones to direct their future, not us."



His words make sense, but I still have this feeling of foreboding inside me. "What about the fire you plan to light? We don't want it spreading to the woods."



He raises his head, bright blue eyes locking on me. "I soaked the surrounding trees with water from a hose, and the lawn. The fire will be controlled and called in. We just want everyone out of here first."



I pace, the uneasiness in me spreading. "Yeah, yeah, that all sounds good. But what about us? What happens with the three of us? Where do you two live? Do I move there with you?"



"Things will unfold as intended." His gaze loses focus for a moment, like his mind is elsewhere, then sharpens when he glances toward me. "We'll talk more. When she's sleeping."



"So she does sleep, eh? I wondered. What with the sun being out and she's still wandering around."



"I told you before. She's very old. Doesn't need much blood or much sleep. But the sun of high noon could still kill her if she sat in it long enough." He pushes himself up, tiredness drawing down his large frame. "I know my wife. She's going to need blood very soon, and her body will force a restorative sleep on her whether she wants it or not."



"I offered her my blood. She refused."



His spine straightens at my words. "Dammit. She refused you? I worried she'd get a pang of consciousness."



"What does that mean?"



He shakes his head, refusing to elaborate more. "We'll talk later-like I said, when she's sleeping. Let's get the wolves into the cars and out of here."



By nine a.m. Dria is done. All the pack-owned vehicles, like Raine's, and the visiting vampire's luxury cars leave the property. The wolves will travel to the hotel where food and warm beds await them. One of them gathered as much of the special herbs as they could find, with plans of having everyone drink their fill of the healing concoction later.



Dria's exhaustion is apparent to anyone paying attention. She walks a little slower and doesn't glance our way as she staggers to the rented Benz. Without a word, she opens the back door and crawls inside, lying in the shadowed interior. Rafe and I check the accelerant placements carefully, making sure the headless remains are well covered for maximum temperature and destruction.



"Won't the firemen find their decapitated skeletons when they send in a fire investigator?"



"Nope," Rafe says. "Once the sun hits their bones, the remains will turn to dust."



"Why not just drag their bodies out to burn and save the house?"



"Too much evil has been done in that house."



A snort of disbelief comes from me. Does this guy really believe all that crap?



He looks at me sideways. "You think I'm joking. No amount of cleansing could save it and whoever lived in it afterwards would suffer."



"Seriously? That sounds like bullshit to me."



"Think what you want, furball. I've seen it in the past. It's best to burn it and hope the next structure built here doesn't occupy the same space. Just as good feelings can permeate the atmosphere of holy structures and scared spaces, same can be said about places were great evil has occurred."



"Whatever, man."



"Come on-surely you must be open to some kind of belief. After all, if you'd been told werewolves and vampires were real before your attack you never would have believed it, right?"



"Yeah, I guess so."



"Same thing applies here. Witches and witchcraft, wizards and fae, demons and even more shapeshifting creatures from various mythology than you ever guessed, all roam this earth-why not good and evil?"



"I never thought about it too closely." An uncomfortableness settles inside me. "Are those things true? Do all those... species really exist?"



"Yup. Humans have never been the top predator. We just liked to think we are." Rafe tosses me the lighter and strides to the rented car.



"That's a depressing eye opener, man. Uh... thanks."



The taller man opens the car door and addresses me over the roof of the car. "It is what it is, Jon. Best you get used to the idea. I'll meet you back at the hotel."



I strike the lighter, the flame dancing in the fresh morning air of late spring. "Yeah. See you there." I let the flame die as the couple drives away.



As discussed, I'm going to light the blaze, make sure it takes where we need it and then put in a call to the firefighters. My cover story is going to be that I was driving alone on the isolated road when I saw the smoke. Staying here 'til I hear the sirens approach will ensure the fire doesn't spread to the woods before they arrive.



I head back to the front door of the mansion, regret washing through me at the loss of such a beautiful home. I flick the lighter on and off in my nervousness, twining through the house to light the spots Rafe indicated earlier.



A part of me desires to visit the room upstairs one last time... the room were Raine died. But I resist. The brutality of that moment is not how I want to recall the slim young wolf. I light the accelerants as instructed and hightail it out the back door. Fires don't run as rampant through a structure this large as one might think. All the doors on every floor are open to allow good air flow, but it still takes quite a while for the fire to reach the second floor.



Once it looks exactly as Rafe described, I call 9-1-1. "I'd like to report a fire."



I knock on the couple's hotel room door two hours later. I stopped off at my room first to eat, shower, and change clothes. I had to scrub three times to get the scent of the fire off of me. I debated on waiting until Rafe or Dria called me, but I have too many unanswered questions tumbling in my head.



Why did she refuse my blood when I offered? Why did Rafe want to talk to me privately when Dria was sleeping? Do the two speak with some kind of telepathy? That's got to be it, right? What else could those penetrating looks they exchange mean?



Rafe answers the door and stands aside, waving me in. He looks tired and drawn, but determined, too. "Did you eat or should I order food?"



"I'm good, thanks." I settle on the small couch and wait for Rafe to take a chair across from me. "Where's Dria?"



He motions with his head toward a bedroom door. "She's still sleeping. Be out for a few more hours I bet."



I nod, unsure of how to approach him with the questions swirling around in my mind. Straightforward might work best. I clear my throat. "So... do you two speak in each other's minds?"



"Yes, we do. It's part of the mate bond we entered fifty-eight years ago."



I cough, choking on my own spit in astonishment. "Holy shit," I say when my voice clears. "Did you say fifty-eight years ago?" Rafe smiles and nods. "How freaking old are you, man?"



"I was past thirty when she finally agreed to bond with me."



"Damn, you look good for your age, you old fart."



"Ha-ha. Funny. Not."



"Oh, look at you, using modern phrases and everything."



Rafe shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Laugh all you want, furball. A supernatural's ability to blend in will be what ultimately saves him or her from discovery."



"Look and sound like an ignorant sap and no one will notice you?"



"Something like that."



"Why did you want me to come here when she was sleeping? I got the impression you two share everything."



He looks toward the window, the bright sun creeps higher in the sky, approaching its zenith. "We do communicate frequently when we're awake, but we don't always have the same opinions on everything. We are still individuals no matter how tightly we're bound to each other."



"Are you telling me this so I'll understand what it's like when I bond with her and become her servant?"



"No," he rubs a hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh. "I'm telling you this because I know she plans to refuse your offer."



I sit up and lean toward him. "What do you mean by 'refuse my offer'? She already fulfilled her end of the bargain. I'm ready to live up to mine."



"She won't take you on as her servant because in the end, helping you was the right thing to do. Having you indebted to her for life to save the Weres doesn't sit right with her."



A cold settles in the pit of my stomach. Things were so much easier when I knew what I was getting myself into. I have a feeling this is the part he meant when they don't always share the same opinions. "But you feel differently, don't you?"



Rafe gets up and grabs a beer from the mini-bar. "Want one?"



I shrug. "What the hell. I don't have a job anymore. Might as well."



He tosses me a cold bottle and sits. "What was your impression of Dria today, when you saw her working on those Weres?"



"She was strong, determined, and tireless. She forged ahead with each person, never stopping to think of herself or the consequences of draining her strength too much. She proved to be a much better vampire than any of those pathetic creatures she killed."



"My wife is not just a better vampire, or simply a strong woman, she is desperately trying to hold onto her humanity with both hands, loving me with every ounce of her being to save the goodness within her, the goodness that was hidden deep for many years." He takes a long pull of his beer. "She needs me... and whether I like it or not, I think she needs you as well."



"Why me? Just for my werewolf blood?" A tiny part of me wants to ask why he doesn't like the idea of her needing me, but I wisely keep my mouth shut. Might humble me if my wife needed another guy, too, for any reason.



"Why do you think vampires crave an alpha's blood over another Were?" he asks.



"That's pretty obvious. We're more powerful."



"Yes, but it's much more than that. You make them more powerful, too."



Confusion wrinkles my brow. "I get that, that's why I offered to be her servant in the first place."



"Jon, that's not what I mean. You are strong enough to help her hold onto her humanity with me. She will be forced to look outside herself, and us, to see to your needs, being sure to never use or abuse you. Taking you on as her vampire servant will make her more compassionate and remind her of what it means to be human."



"Even though I'm not human anymore?"



"Yeah, furball, even then."



"So if she doesn't want me, what am I to do?"



A steely edge creeps into his eyes. "You plan to fulfill your pledge, right?"



I look around the room and gesture widely with my beer. "I'm here, aren't I?"



His face sets is a cold and unforgiving mask. "A man with honor follows his word willingly, not begrudgingly."



I look away from his penetrating stare. God, he's kind of creepy all on his own when he wants to be. "Alright," I say on a sigh. "You made your point."



"Be sure, Jon. There's no turning back. Do you want to serve a creature who walks the edge of darkness, clings to humanity by a thread, and will kill in the blink of an eye-or will you flee into the sun while she sleeps?"



Rafe's words give me pause. The only leader I had a lot of exposure to was Romeo. He did a fair job with the pack, but even he wouldn't put his neck on the line to save his own kind-something Dria did wholeheartedly once she agreed to help.



Out of everyone I've met in my time as a werewolf, she is the most honorable. A bloodsucking vampire. Who would have guessed?



I turn back and meet his bright blue eyes. "It would be my honor to serve her."



"Good." He stands and offers me his hand. We shake and a genuine smile creases his face. "I've got an idea on how to make this work. You'll need to buy a lot of chocolate for this to go off smoothly."