Twilight Fall

Page 5

 

  Liling had no criminal record or outstanding debts, and lived simply and frugally. She had to; her annual salary roughly equaled what Valentin spent during one visit to his tailor.

  "She's diligent and punctual," the chief administrator at the Lighthouse reported over the phone. "Never late, never calls in sick or asks to leave early. She keeps the grounds immaculate, of course, and the gardens have become a showcase. The nurses adore her. "

  Valentin learned that Liling was not only a favorite of the Staff, but had become very popular among the most seriously ill patients at the facility.

  "Some of them have said that her touch removes their pain," the administrator said, his voice growing wry. "Of course, sir, you have to realize that these are the same patients who regularly talk to Elvis and are convinced that aliens steal the chocolate pudding off their dinner trays. "

  Valentin suspected the patients were responding to the girl's interest and kindness. The sort of attention she gave them also had some bearing. How could you dislike someone who brought you flowers?

  Doubtless Liling's stature and appearance likewise contributed to the many favorable opinions of her. Barely five feet tall and built as slender and delicate as one of her flowers, Liling Harper seemed as fragile and vulnerable as she was exotic. Small women often brought out protective instincts in others, as their diminutive size made them seem more childlike and helpless. Her skin, sun-kissed to a burnished gold, enhanced the natural drama of her ebony eyes and full, curved lips.

  Liling kept herself as tidy and well-groomed as her gardens. Her thick black hair, always neatly confined in a precise French braid, hung down from the back of her head to the very end of her spine. Two plain gold hoops adorned the lobes of each small ear; a waterproof watch encircled one wrist. She also wore a silver chain around her neck, but kept it tucked inside the collar of her staff polo shirt. She used no cosmetics, and kept the nails on her slim fingers short but neatly manicured.

  To Jaus she seemed almost painfully shy and reserved, more interested in her own thoughts than in the world around her. He had seen her drift off into a daydream more than once. He wondered what she thought about during those moments when her eyes took on that faraway look. Probably her gardens.

  Valentin acknowledged that she was the only human female who—despite a similar petite form—did not remind him of Jema Shaw. Jema was American; Liling was not. The gardener spoke excellent English, but her accent and hesitancy with some words made it obvious that it was not her cradle language. Jema had been wealthy even before she became Thierry Durand's sygkenis; Liling worked hard, possessed little, and lived a modest life. Thus, the fact that he could not banish the image of her face from his thoughts was meaningless. Jaus knew that if he took her and fed from her, the temporary and highly annoying attraction would die. Just as it had with every other human female except Jema Shaw.

  As he thought of how ii would be to take Liling Harper's blood, his dents acérées emerged, full and sharp into his mouth, while his cock stiffened against his fly.

  His cell phone chimed, and when he flipped it open the screen displayed a small brown bird perched on an arrow. Valentin tapped the answer key and held it to his ear. "What is it?"

  "Good evening to you, too. Lord Jaus. " Robin of Locksley, the suzerain of Atlanta, said with good-natured cheer. "I can call tomorrow, if I have interrupted something. "

  "No, forgive me. " Valentin breathed in deeply, reaching for the iron control that had never failed him. "My mind was elsewhere. How may I be of service?"

  "I have been trading with the Kyn who have recently come from France and Italy. " Robin said, "and I acquired a blade that may be of interest of you. "

  Valentin felt the weight of his dead arm drag at his shoulder. He could not hold a sword anymore, much less use one. "I thank you. Rob, but I have enough blades. "

  "This one is a two-handed sword with a very unique hilt. " Locksley continued as if Jaus had said nothing. "It is solid, handworked silver, with two rubies, four star sapphires, and eight black diamonds inset in the grip. I believe you can guess the letter they form. "

  "That cannot be my grandfather's sword," Valentin told him. "The Nazis looted the church where it was kept on display when they invaded Vienna. "

  "As it turns out, my friend, the night before the Nazis arrived, the blade was smuggled out of the country to France. It was hidden there, along with several other important pieces, for safekeeping. " Robin said. "The tresori responsible never revealed the location to anyone and were later killed during the occupation. Kyn using the same tunnels to flee the Brethren only just discovered the cache last year. "

  Valentin had little left in the way of personal effects from his human life: a few daggers, his father's hauberk and spangenhelm, a tattered banner. His grandfather's sword, wielded in so many wars of state that his men had referred to it as the King Maker, had been his family's most prized possession.

  "I can ship it to you next-day air, if you like," Robin said. "UPS does not pick up here at the compound until five thirty. "

  "No. " The idea of humans handling his grandfather's sword made Valentin's gut knot. "With your permission, I will come to Atlanta to see it. If it is authentic, you have but to name your price, my lord. "

  "I already have your friendship, and Scarlet claims I have too many automobiles as it is. Let me think. " Locksley made a hmmmm sound. "I have several men who wish to move up in rank, but Will is likely to outlive all of us. Would you consider one of them to serve as your seneschal?"

  Valentin had not had a seneschal since the night he had dueled with Thierry. "That sounds more like the sort of trade Cyprien would propose. "

  Robin was silent for a moment. "There is no deceiving you, is there? You know Michael. He worries. "

  Michael Cyprien, the American seigneur who ruled over all the suzerain and their jardin, had been a friend of Valentin's for centuries. He had also spent much of his human life as Thierry Durand's ally and closest friend. The duel and its aftermath had created a rift between Michael and Jaus, one that they never acknowledged, but that existed just the same.

  Jaus had not cared, but Cyprien had never been a man to leave well enough alone.

  "Do your men know that I executed my last seneschal for betrayal?" Valentin asked.

  "They do. I believe if you accept an oath from one of them, he will do everything in his power to avoid a similar fate. " Robin's tone changed, grew more persuasive. "I would give you the sword for nothing. Val. But I think Michael is right about this. It is time for you to… move on. "

  Valentin had no desire to replace Falco or change the status of his household. No did he wish to be micromanaged by the seigneur. But he could not walk away from the chance to regain possession of his grandfather's sword, and his pride would not allow Locksley to make a gift of it. "I will agree to consider them, but that is all. "

  "Excellent. I await your arrival. "

  Jaus ended the call and checked his watch. Five more hours until dawn. He needed something to do, something to fill up the time. Something to keep him from thinking about Jema.

  He walked up to the gardens, where Wilhelm was waiting for him. "Bring me the file on Liling Harper. "

  The boy stood. "At once, master. "

  After making a small dinner salad for herself, Liling wandered restlessly around her apartment. The thought of watching television or reading didn't tempt her, and it was too dark to work in the tiny garden she had planted in the back of her building, so she pocketed her keys and went out into the night.

  It was a short walk from her apartment to the Navy Pier, one of the main reasons she had rented the place. She liked seeing the lights of the enormous Ferris wheel from her windows; she had probably ridden it herself a thousand times now. Walking among the tourists and suburbians who came to enjoy the pier's attractions made her feel less lonely.

  There were places at the pier where she
could be alone, too. She walked past the family pavilion and the Navy Pier Park, pausing for a moment to watch the laughing, shrieking children riding the Ferris wheel before she continued down the walkway. She liked this side of the pier, where the long line of boats waited to ferry visitors out onto the lake; if she didn't get seasick the minute she stepped foot on a boat she'd take a cruise every night.

  She intended to stop at the Häagen-Dazs Café for ice cream, but an odd sensation on the back of her neck made her keep walking. She glanced around several times, but no one strolling along the pier paid any attention to her.

  At Festival Hall, she walked into the lower-level terrace and entered the Smith Museum, her favorite place on the pier.

  The long, quiet galleries of the museum housed 150 stained-glass windows, with access provided at no cost for public viewing. The first stained-glass window museum in the United States, Smith showcased some of the most spectacular secular and religious windows in the country.

  Liling loved the hushed atmosphere of the museum as much as the glowing, magnificent displays. It seemed more like a cathedral of light and art than a tourist attraction; to walk through the galleries and see the jewel-bright colors fed some nameless hunger inside her. Her childhood had been so dull and gray; here she could commune with the genius of John La Farge and Louis Comfort Tiffany, and see the world through their eyes.

  As magnificent as Smith's collection of important glassworks were, Liling's favorite piece was Seated Woman in a Garden, a stair-landing window created by an unknown artist at the turn of the twentieth century. She always went to that one first, to stand in the gentle white, copper, and turquoise glow and study the woman in the glass.

  The artist had used hundreds of tiny pieces of glass in vibrant colors, so that sunlight shining through would cast beautiful light on the landing of a staircase. But it was the figure of the woman, not the unusual colors, that drew Liling. With her white gown slipping from one shoulder, and her fiery red hair echoed by the delicate, intricate glass flowers growing all around her, the woman in the window sat alone, but seemed serene and happy.