Guild Hunter: Archangel's Shadows Part 18

"No." Expression dark yet, Janvier said, "He asked for privacy during his transformation, and Elena has made sure of it. I don't think she's seen him, either."

She could understand why Vivek didn't want his friends to see him while he was weak and defenseless; paralyzed or not, he'd always been a force to be reckoned with. "I guess I just want to know someone has a careful eye on him. I don't know any human who's been Made after suffering such devastating long-term injuries."

"Keir himself is monitoring his progress."

Ashwini had met Keir in the aftermath of the battle. She'd been st.i.tched up by human doctors, but the angelic healer had unexpectedly dropped by her apartment two days after she'd made Janvier leave. With uptilted eyes of warm brown set in a delicately beautiful face, his black hair sleek and his body slender as a boy's, Keir had appeared unutterably young and yet there'd been a wisdom in his gaze that told her his was a soul old and n.o.ble in its peace.

"It is past time I came to see you," he'd said with a small incline of his head.

Bemused, she'd invited him in, offered him a cup of herbal tea rather than coffee.

His response had been a smile and the words, "Yes, of course that is what I would like."

The most unfathomable thing was that she hadn't touched Keir even once, and yet she'd known he'd enjoy the tea, just as she knew he was exhausted from the work he'd been doing with the wounded at the Tower. So she'd offered him a place to rest and, to her surprise, he'd accepted, closing his eyes and dozing quietly in her favorite old armchair.

It had been strange to see angelic wings of golden brown draped over her furniture, to have someone of such age and power in her living s.p.a.ce. "Keir," she said to Janvier, the two of them having almost reached the car, "he's so old." The kind of age she'd always feared. "But he doesn't make me uncomfortable. If anything, he makes everything seem peaceful, he's so gentle and centered."

She knew Keir had incredible depths to him, intricate layers of pain and living that made up any life, but there was no cruelty, none of the horror she a.s.sociated with immortality.

Janvier blinked away a tiny snowflake that sought to cling stubbornly to his eyelashes. "The scholar who taught me to read," he said after they'd entered the parking lot and were inside the car, "said she'd done the same for Keir when he was a boy. She told me he was the wisest child she'd ever known, an old, old soul reborn into a new body."

"Yes. Lijuan boasted that she'd evolved to the next plane of existence, but I think Keir's the one who's done that." The healer was something better than this world, with a luminous light at his core.

Janvier's return gaze was hard. "I won't argue with you-on that point."

Gloves off and jacket unzipped in the warmth of the car, Ashwini looked out at the lightly snowy landscape as they left the Quarter. The city sparkled through the white and it felt as if they traveled inside a snow globe, like the one Arvi had given her when she was seven. She'd accidentally broken the treasured present the morning of the day he drove her to the place where they tried to "fix" her; and Arvi, he'd stared at the shards with the strangest expression on his face.

At the time, she'd thought he was angry. Now, she wondered if, just for an instant, he'd realized that what he was doing might as irretrievably shatter the sister who adored him.

"Ashwini?"

"Would you like to go for a drive?" she asked the vampire with the moss green eyes who'd branded her soul long ago and whose heart she was about to break as she'd once broken that snow globe. "I have to show you something."

Following Ash's instructions, Janvier left the city and the falling snow behind. The tires currently on his car were designed for winter conditions, so the journey was smooth despite the occasional patch of ice. He'd driven for approximately an hour on mostly empty night roads when she directed him down a side road, having not spoken much for the entirety of the drive.

The road was well maintained, though not particularly brightly lit. Janvier didn't yet have the preternatural eyesight that came with centuries-long vampirism, so he lowered their speed around the corners, in case the person on the other side was an idiot who thought he or she could see in the dark.

As it was, they pa.s.sed only two other vehicles over the next twenty minutes.

"Turn where you can see that small signboard on the left."

The car's headlights reflecting off the discreet black-on-cream of the board, he found himself going down what appeared to be an endless private drive, winter-bare oaks lining it on either side. "Cher," he said, hating the pain in her silence. "I can see large gates."

"I have the access code." She told him the code when they reached the gates, and he punched it in on the driver's side.

Lights appeared in the distance over five minutes later, a sprawling brick house that reminded him of a Georgian mansion taking shape against a backdrop of trees that were black silhouettes in the night. The drive appeared to end in a circular sweep, with what might have been a fountain in the center, though it was difficult to tell from this distance.

"Pull over here."

Not arguing with Ash's request, he brought the car to a stop some distance from the house and turned off both the headlights and the engine. "What is that place?"

Ash got out. Following, he met her at the front of the car . . . where she reached for his hand and held on tight. "It's called Banli House," she whispered. "They don't have a website or any other online presence. It's one of those places that's so exclusive, you have to know someone to get in."

Janvier's tendons went taut, jawbones grinding against one another.

"My brother was a younger doctor then," she said, "but our family was wealthy, established. One of my parents' friends must've recommended this place when . . . when things went wrong." Her breath fogged the air, her inhales shallow. "The rich usually send their drug-addicted sons and daughters here to sober them up, but Banli House is a fully accredited medical and psychiatric facility capable of handling far worse embarra.s.sments."

Her hand was squeezing his so hard that had he been human, she would've left bruises. Janvier wanted to put a hundred b.l.o.o.d.y bruises on the man responsible for the echo of horror in her voice. "Arvi sent you to this place."

"When I was fifteen. He drove me here himself, told me the doctors would help me." A streak of wet on her cheek that broke Janvier's heart. "I wanted so much to be normal for him." Her eyes met his, huge and dark. "He was my big brother and, no matter what, he'd always looked after me." Voice cracking, she blinked rapidly. "The worst thing is, he truly believed he was doing that this time, too."

"Cher." He turned to wrap his other arm around her, hold her against him, his indomitable Ash who'd fought off vampires and angels hundreds of years older than her and never crumbled.

"They drugged me," she said, the words a rasp. "To make me better, that's what they said. There was more, other kinds of 'therapy.' They tied me down when I resisted, and then they pumped me full of drugs again."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she pulled away but didn't break the handclasp, her eyes on Banli House. Her nightmare, he thought, to be vanquished. And she'd do it with shoulders squared and head held high.

He was f.u.c.king amazed by her.

"So many people touched me and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Orderlies, doctors, nurses. Enough that I began to tune in to them." She dashed away the tears that had escaped her, stared unflinching at the facility in the distance. "Sometimes they were being nice, trying to calm me during a panic attack after I'd been strapped down, but it just made it worse-at least three of my care staff had worked with the criminally mentally ill, had horrible things inside their heads."

Her fingers flexed, squeezed his hand again.

"I was drowning in their lives and it was driving me mad, but I had to pretend the therapy was working, that I was getting better. Even when I slept, I couldn't let myself go too deep-I had to be awake enough to fight the nightmares. I was in there for five months."

24.

Janvier thought of how strained she'd been in Nazarach's home, her energy contained tightly inside her skin, and couldn't imagine how she'd survived the h.e.l.l of having her mind violated over and over again. "Were the walls-"

"No," she said, antic.i.p.ating his question. "Banli House is too young to have become a living ent.i.ty to my senses. It's safe for the time being-and if I'd been able to choose my caregivers, choose the ones who had quiet, ordinary minds, I might have been okay."

Janvier saw she didn't believe her own words; his Ash wasn't meant to be trapped and caged. Like a bird with its wings clipped, she would sicken and die. "How did you get out?" he asked through the rage that was a flood shoving against his senses.

"I convinced them I'd stabilized enough that they started to let me out on the grounds." Tiny lines flared out from the corners of her eyes, her expression wondering. "To this day, I don't know how I did it. It was as if I put on a different skin like Naasir talks about doing-beneath that skin, I was one step away from total fragmentation."

"You were tough even then."

A fast, unexpected smile. "Yes, I was." The smile faded too soon, her eyes drawn toward Banli House again. "I wanted to run the first day I glimpsed freedom, but I fought it. I knew they were watching me." Pausing, she lifted their clasped hands, rubbed her cheek against the back of his.

It was a punch right to his heart.

"So I did what they expected me to do," she said after lowering their hands again. "I sunbathed and read books like the addicts who'd gone through detox. After a while, the staff stopped paying as close attention to me. Then late one evening after final bed check, I squeezed out a window I'd wedged open, and I ran."

Janvier clenched his jaw, his entire body trembling with the storm inside him. "Where was your brother during the time you were in this place?" he asked, not sure he could ever be civil to the man again.

"Don't blame him, Janvier," she said, to his surprise. "I can't forgive him, but I know why he did it."

"No reason can excuse such abandonment." He would've died for his sisters, would've slayed dragons for them. "A brother is meant to protect."

"That's the thing." A pained whisper. "In his mind, that was exactly what he was doing." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "It wasn't until I was in here that I understood why he couldn't stand to be around me once I began to know things I shouldn't, once I ran to him as an eleven-year-old scared of the ugly things I'd glimpsed in the mind of a teacher who turned out to be a child molester."

The hurt in her voice as she spoke of her brother's rejection was old, long accepted. "In that last, Arvi didn't let me down. He had the teacher investigated, and the man ended up behind bars." A squeeze of Janvier's hand. "He's not a bad person, my brother. He's just . . . I think I'd better show you why Arvi is as he is . . . Why I am as I am." Her eyes went to the facility in the distance. "We have to go inside."

Banli House grew bigger in front of Ashwini as they approached it, a bloated beast with glowing eyes.

No, she thought, forcing her jaw muscles to relax, aware she was seeing the facility through the gaze of the scared, confused girl she'd once been. Banli House was no beast; rather, it was a hiding place created by the wealthy to dump their problems where the world couldn't see them.

Janvier brought the car to a smooth stop in the circular drive, near the steps that led to the entrance. There were planters on either side of it, a small manicured evergreen in each, and the fan-shaped lead gla.s.s above the door glowed from the light beyond. "It looks so warm and inviting, doesn't it?" she said through the choke hold of fear and old panic.

It was never easy, walking through those doors. But if she didn't do it every single time, the fear would win, it would own her.

Janvier braced his arm along the back of her seat. "This place wounds you. We don't need to be here."

"No. It's important."

"Then I am with you."

Ashwini skimmed her eyes over him; he wasn't wearing any visible blades or guns, but she knew he was armed. "Keep a careful eye on your weapons."

Not questioning her instruction, Janvier gave a small nod.

The front door of Banli House opened as they exited the car and she saw Carl was on duty again tonight. Neatly cut hair, straight white teeth, and creamy skin, his features symmetrical, the nurse was as attractive as every other member of staff. Ashwini had always found that strange. What did the owners think? That rich people didn't want to dump their embarra.s.sments in a place where those embarra.s.sments might come in contact with the less than attractive?

"Ash," the nurse said when they reached him. "It's good to see you again so soon."

"Is she awake?" Ashwini knew the answer even as she asked the question; the woman she'd come to see had always been a night owl . . . and "clock" time had little meaning to her now. She woke and slept to her own internal rhythms.

Carl nodded, his eyes skating to Janvier. "Should I place your guest on the cleared list?"

"Temporarily." There was no guarantee Janvier was "safe" in this context until Ashwini had personally cleared him.

Leading them down the hallway, Carl stopped in front of the door to the familiar corner suite. That suite was a lovely one, complete with a private sitting room and a bedroom that looked out over the grounds. It was also padded and devoid of anything that could be used as a weapon.

The antique furniture was bolted to the hardwood floor through the padding, the sheets replaced by fine blankets that couldn't be torn up and turned into a noose, the fresh flowers displayed in plastic vases that couldn't be shattered and used to slit the wrists. However, when Carl opened the door after his polite knock received a "Come in," from the other side, the modifications weren't immediately apparent.

One of the myriad reasons why Banli House was so expensive.

"Your boots," Carl reminded her.

She turned to Janvier, having forgotten the routine act in the wake of the sense of loss that so often overcame her here. "You have to take them off." A heavy tread could damage the padding.

Janvier ran his hand over her hair, in the oddly tender way that tugged at her heart, before bending to unlace his boots as she unzipped her heeled ones. They placed them to the right of the door.

Then Ashwini looked into the bayou green of his eyes one last time, drinking in the way he felt about her at this instant before everything changed . . . and led him inside.

Carl didn't come with them, but she knew he'd remain nearby in case he was needed to administer a sedative. Ashwini could tell no sedative would be needed tonight at first sight of the woman who sat by the windows, a serene smile on her face.

Seeing Ashwini, she turned and held out her hand, her features a feminine version of Arvi's, the brown-black of her hair thick and gleaming, with only a rare few strands of silver. "As.h.i.+," she said, using the childhood nickname Ashwini heard from no one else now.

"h.e.l.lo, Tanu." Ashwini settled into the chair opposite her elder sister.

Tanu's dark eyes flicked up to behind her. "Who's this?"

"Janvier." She glanced back and up at him before returning her gaze to the sister who'd been wrenched out of her life when Ashwini was barely nine. "He's mine."

"Well," Tanu said to Janvier with the acerbic politeness that had so often put men back on their heels before they fell hard for her, "you look well nourished, so I a.s.sume you have a job?"

"It even pays in more than whiskey."

Janvier's drawling answer had Tanu's lips tugging up at the corners. "I'd watch out for this one, little sister." The last two words were in the language they'd grown up speaking with their grandparents. "He's apt to steal your virtue and slip out a window come dawn."

Ashwini found herself surprised into laughter. "Maybe I'm the one who'll steal his virtue."

"I'm not sure your Janvier has any left." Tanu's eyes danced and at that instant she was the effervescent beauty who'd once drawn three marriage proposals from total strangers during the course of a single family wedding.

Janvier tugged on Ashwini's braid. "You did not warn me I would be facing such stern scrutiny, cher."

Tanu didn't laugh, deep vertical lines forming between her eyebrows instead. "Where's Arvi? I tell him not to work so late, but does that dratted twin of mine ever listen?"

Ashwini sensed Janvier start behind her as he understood the true scale of the tragedy. "You know Arvi," she said. "I bet you he took 'just a glance' at a pending operation as he was about to leave, and ended up spending hours mapping it out. He's probably on his way here now." A guess that had a good chance of being true . . . because her big brother spent more time in Banli House than in his own. Arvi had lost half of himself when he'd lost Tanu, would bleed from the wound till the day he died.

"That's Arvi for you." Sighing, her sister rubbed at her temple. "G.o.d, this headache."

Ashwini didn't offer to get medication. Her sister's drug regimen was finely calibrated to make sure she didn't become an addict or end up catatonic. Ashwini hated that Tanu had to be on them, but without the drugs, her sister became manic, p.r.o.ne to self-harm and nightmare delusions that left her screaming.

The aim of the medication was to give her as many minutes of clarity as possible during her waking hours. Banli House was a high-cla.s.s facility, after all, one that took its responsibilities seriously. If Ashwini hadn't been entombed here as a teenager, she might even have found it a soothing, caring environment.

Janvier moved from behind Ashwini's chair. "I may be able to help," he said and, hunkering down in front of Tanu, pressed his fingers to his own temples in an unusual pattern. "Try that."

Copying the motions, Tanu sighed. "Where did you learn that?"

"From my ma-mere-my grandmother. Sometimes what is modern is not always the best, oui?"

"Oui." Tanu laughed and patted his cheek, no indication of any tension on her face at the contact. "Yes, you're definitely trouble. Pretty trouble." Her eyes met Ashwini's. "You should chain him up."

"He probably has the key to the chains under his tongue."