Night's Honor (A Novel of the Elder Races Book 7)

Finally, she had encountered something in this place that was less than idyllic. But instead of being reassured at finding a dose of reality, she found it jarring, and she studied him thoughtfully.

 

The estate had a cloistered atmosphere. While everybody got time off in rotation, they had to make an effort to actually leave, but she had found that she liked the peace and quiet. She enjoyed the surrounding forest and the ocean, and so far, cable TV and access to the Internet had met all of her modest needs. For the first time, though, she realized that others might not be as content with the lifestyle.

 

Diego walked over to the neat metal shelves set against one wall and rummaged through a few drawers, as he said, “Xavier has a six-bedroom house. Chica, that’s almost like living in a double-wide compared to some places I’ve seen. But hey, we each get our own room, so that’s saying something, right?”

 

He located a roll of duct tape and handed it to her. As she took it, she gave him a level look. “They’re nice rooms. We ate grass-fed prime rib last night. I have a thousand dollar Visa card from last month that I can use for fun money, if I want.”

 

He seemed to realize that he had begun to sound churlish, because he backtracked with a quick smile. “Yeah, of course. It’s all good. I’m just saying, you might think this is fancy, but it’s not as fancy as it can get.”

 

“I hear you.” Eager to back out of a conversation that was going nowhere fast, she hefted the roll of duct tape at him as she backed up a few steps. “Thanks for helping out.”

 

“No problem.” He gave her an easy smile. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.”

 

Now that she had gotten what she needed, she dismissed Diego from her thoughts and focused on her next steps. Hurrying to the gym, she was pleased to find it empty, and she studied the various angles and possibilities from the mat where she and Raoul usually worked. Everything had to be planned perfectly. She couldn’t afford even a moment’s hesitation, and even then, it might not work.

 

Once she had everything arranged to her liking, she jogged slowly back to the attendants’ house, showered and made it downstairs in time for breakfast.

 

Afterward, she met Raoul in the gym as usual. Others were already there. Scott jumped rope, sweat trickling down the side of his face. Aaron and Brian sparred with each other. Diego had positioned himself over at the selection of free weights, pumping iron without appearing to look once in her direction.

 

As they walked to their usual mat, Raoul said, “I noticed you didn’t open the gates for your morning run.”

 

If she’d ever had any doubt whether or not Raoul was keeping an eye on her through the discreet security cameras that dotted the property, his words banished it.

 

She shrugged. “I pulled a hamstring and thought it would be better to take the time to stretch this morning.”

 

Aside from one quick, keen glance, he didn’t make any further comment. He didn’t have to; they both knew that if Xavier were periodically taking blood from her vein, she would have healed from any hamstring injury overnight.

 

Instead, he gestured to the mat, and they took their accustomed places. Adrenaline spiked her senses as she readied herself, bringing her weight to the balls of her feet, but her adrenaline spiked every morning just before Raoul started to pummel her, and besides, as enhanced as he was, she didn’t think he had a Vampyre’s sensitivity to pick up on anything unusual.

 

He paused, studying the placement of her feet. “Are you sure you don’t need to do any more stretching first?”

 

“I’m sure,” she told him. She brought her hands up.

 

“Very well,” he said. “On your guard, if you please.”

 

It was how he started every torture session. As soon as she heard the words, she whirled and sprinted toward the punching bag in another corner of the room.

 

What would he do? Would he chase her? He was so much faster—she would only get a split second from surprise. She lunged as hard and as fast as she could.

 

Then she heard him, coming after her. Dimly, she was aware of the others, talking and exclaiming.

 

Three more steps. Two.

 

His fingers brushed the back of her neck. She twisted away from the touch, dove, rolled and grabbed for the gun that she had duct-taped to the bottom of the punching bag.

 

Bracing her shoulders against the floor, she brought the gun up just as Raoul reached for her again.

 

He reared back, his gaze flaring.

 

She sighted down the gun, aimed at his heart and said, “Bang, bang. You’re dead.”

 

Silence fell over the gym. Raoul didn’t move. His astonished expression settled into something calmer and much more deadly. “How did you get that?”

 

She tilted the nose of the barrel away from him and opened up her hand, loosening her grip on the gun. “It’s not loaded.”

 

Relaxing, he took it from her and checked the cartridge, then checked the chamber. “That didn’t answer my question. You don’t have the passcode to the weapons locker.”

 

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