“Stefan, stay here with Elena. Andrei, you and Katiya will come with me.”
“Wait a minute!” Elena said. “I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“Elena, be reasonable,” Drake said. “I cannot take you to the Fortress with me.”
She bit back her protest. He was right, of course. If Rodin saw her with Drake, it would give rise to questions they dared not answer. But how could she stay here? “Are you going to fight?”
“I am going to watch Rodin’s back while Andrei watches Olaf.”
“What if Rodin loses?” Elena asked. “What then?”
With a reassuring smile, Drake pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Pray that does not happen.”
Rodin demanded an audience the moment Drake and Katiya returned to the Fortress. After spending time with Elena, Drake found it difficult to go back to pretending that he and Katiya were happily wed and joyfully anticipating the birth of their first child, but both Rodin and Liliana seemed convinced.
After the initial greetings were over, Katiya and Liliana left the men to converse alone.
“So,” Rodin said, sitting back in his chair. “Married life agrees with you.”
“We get on well together.” Drake sat in his mother’s chair, his legs stretched out in front of him.
“Stefan told you about Gerret?”
“You are not worried about the outcome of the challenge, are you?”
Rodin snorted. “The Irishman is no threat. It is obvious that Florin set this up to accomplish his own agenda.”
“I will take care of Florin.”
“If I lose the fight, you must challenge Gerret. I do not want your mother to have to leave the Fortress.”
“Of course,” Drake said, frowning. “But that will not happen.”
“I cannot control this Coven and the Irish territory, as well. When I have defeated Gerret, your mother and I will move to the Irish Fortress temporarily. She has always wanted to visit Ireland. You will take over the Coven here until we return. It will make a good home for you and Katiya and your child.”
“No.” Drake shook his head emphatically. “No. I do not want to live here. Nor do I wish the responsibilities of being a Master Vampire.”
“You are the oldest and the strongest of my sons. You have pledged your life and your allegiance to me, and you will do as you are told.”
Drake sat back, his mind spinning. “And if I refuse?”
“You will not.”
With Drake gone, Elena couldn’t sit still. She moved from one thing to another, unable to concentrate on anything. She tried to watch a movie, she tried reading a book, playing solitaire, baking a cake. She couldn’t concentrate on the movie or the book, she tossed the cards on the floor, she burned the cake.
She talked Stefan into helping her rearrange the furniture in the main hall, but quickly lost interest.
“I can’t stay here,” she said, arms akimbo. “It’s killing me, not knowing what’s going on!”
“What do you want me to do?” Stefan asked.
“Take me to the Fortress.”
“No way. Drake would have my head, if Rodin did not take it first.”
She dropped down on the sofa, which was now in the center of the room. “How do vampires fight, anyway?”
“With swords.”
“Swords! How positively medieval.”
“You have no idea.” He took a seat on the nearest chair and stretched his legs out in front of him.
“Drake said they fight to the death.”
Stefan nodded. He had seen a few challenges in his time. Some were quickly over. Others turned into blood baths. Either way, they were not pretty.
“Will Rodin win?”
“Undoubtedly. There is no one better with a sword except perhaps Drake.”
“Swords,” she murmured.
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Something otherworldly.” She paused a moment. There had been no swords involved when Drake killed his brother. “How did Drake kill Vardin?”
Stefan leaned forward, his expression solemn. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“I think so,” she said, then frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“It was not as quick as a sword thrust, or as merciful.”
“So, what did he do?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
“Drake ripped his heart out.”
She swallowed hard. “With . . . with his hands?”
Stefan nodded. “You look a little pale. Can I get you anything?”
“No. No, I’m fine.” She recalled the body lying under a blanket on the floor of her room in the Fortress, the awful bloody stain on the blanket, and on the rug beneath.
Wrapping her arms around her middle, she whispered, “I think I’m going to be sick.”
In a blur too quick for human eyes to follow, Stefan left the room, only to return a moment later, chamber pot in hand.
She grabbed it just in time.
He left again, returning with a damp washcloth, a dry towel, and a glass of warm water. She quickly wiped her face, then rinsed her mouth. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said, grinning as he took the chamber pot and soiled linen and left the room.
Elena sighed. She didn’t know which was worse, throwing up, or doing so in front of Stefan.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured when he returned. “I guess vampires don’t throw up.”
“No. Not a pretty sight.”
“I suppose not. Are you sure Drake isn’t going to fight?”
Stefan’s gaze slid away from hers.
“Stefan?”
“He will not fight. Unless Rodin is defeated.”
Chapter 27
The atmosphere in the Fortress was subdued that night. Everyone knew about the upcoming challenge, though no one spoke of it openly. Even the sheep knew. But then, it seemed as if they always knew what was going on. Drake had often wondered about that. Did they have some sort of telepathy of their own? Or were they just in tune with what went on around them? He thought it more likely that they eavesdropped on what their captors said. They certainly didn’t learn anything from the drones, those poor, unfortunate humans who were little more than zombies.
Too keyed up to sit still, he prowled the corridors for hours before going to his apartment.
Katiya looked up when he entered their quarters. “Have you seen Andrei?”
Drake nodded. “He is shadowing Olaf. He told me to kiss you good night.”