Darkyn - Private Demon Part 23

Alex dropped the soap in the sink. Jaus stood in the doorway, wiping his chest, arms, and hands with a white towel. "Pay me."

He tossed the damp towel into the tub. "Whatever you wish. Money, jewels, property, anything. You have but to name your price, my lady."

She turned off the taps, put the soap back, and sluiced the water from her hands. "What if I want the city of Chicago?"

"I do not own Chicago."

"Oh, well." She shrugged.

"I own part of Chicago. A large part. It is yours."

He was serious. "A tempting counteroffer." She saw there was no getting through the doorway at the moment.

"But, nope, I can't settle for port of a major metropolitan city. Me being Cyprien's girl and all; everyone would just snicker behind my back. You understand."

He folded his arms, making muscles bulge in all the right places. "I am not jesting with you."

"I didn't think you were." She moved to stand in front of him. That was the nice thing about him; she didn't have to stand on a stepladder to go eye-to-eye with him. "Valentin, I know you love her. I knew it before I came in and saw the creepy stalker wall. That's why I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation."

"I must have her. I will do anything."

"No, you won't." She gestured toward the bedroom. "Let's go crack open a unit of AB negative. Have you ever noticed how it has a bit more zing than plain old type A?"

"You smug b.i.t.c.h." He wasn't moving a centimeter. "You dare deny me. When you could save her. You have your love for eternity."

"She's not your love, Valentin. Love is reciprocal. Love is two consenting adults who meet, fall for each other, and can't imagine life without the other one around. Throw in lots of s.e.x your mother didn't want you to have." She saw Cyprien appear behind him but didn't twitch an eyelash. This one was on her tab. "Jema Shaw doesn't love you. She doesn't know you love her. She probably thinks you're a nice man, but what else have you ever been to her? The neighbor with the funny accent who sends her homegrown flowers once a year, that's it."

For a moment it looked as if Jaus might do something to her that would make Cyprien go crazy. "That is what I am to her."

"That's what you are to her now." Alex felt as if she'd sucker punched him a few times. "I'll tell you something about me. Before I met the Prince of Darkness, I rarely got involved with men. An occasional roll in the hay, but that was all. I liked my life. No ties. No picking up someone else's socks off the floor. No fights, no faked o.r.g.a.s.ms, no regrets."

Jaus watched her and said nothing. "Also, no friends, no family, nothing to show for my time but an office I closed in three days, a house I sold in a week, and a car that I returned to the leasing company-" She stopped and smacked herself in the forehead. "Oh, s.h.i.+t, I knew I forgot to do something."

He was not amused. "Your point?"

"My point: You know why it was so easy for me to walk away from my practice as a surgeon, and my life as a human? No one was really sorry to see me go. I wasn't important enough to anyone to be missed. If I had died instead of changing, no one would have cried." She pressed her hand to his lean cheek. "If one of those guys in the lists slips and accidentally makes you a head shorter, who's going to cry for you, Valentin? Besides me?"

"Alexandra." His hand brushed some hair back from her face. It was a gentle, affectionate gesture, the kind John used to make when they were kids. "Forgive me."

She didn't know how she ended up with the suzerain of Chicago in her arms, holding on to her like a lost little boy. She glanced over his shoulder and saw the look of love Cyprien gave her before he turned away and left them alone.

They weren't alone for very long. A throat being cleared a few times in the adjoining room made Jaus lift his head from Alex's shoulder. "Sacher. He would not interrupt unless it was important."

They walked out together to find the elderly man so agitated he was practically wringing his hands.

"What is it?" Jaus went quickly to him. "Wilhelm?"

"No, master, he is fine. Dr. Keller, the seigneur wished me to tell you that he had to go into the city to speak to someone." The old man grasped Jaus's hand. "Master, Falco called just after the seigneur left. Miss Jema was attacked by three men at the museum. She is home now, but she was injured."

Jaus's face turned to stone. "The men?"

"All dead, Falco told me. A Kyn warrior saved her, and killed them." Sacher glanced at Alex before he added, "Master, it was Thierry Durand."

Jaus agreed to have Alexandra accompany him to call upon Jema. It was the quickest way to get out of Derabend Hall, and she would prevent him from gutting Dr. Daniel Bradford on the front steps of Shaw House.

He hoped.

"It's almost midnight," Alex said as she walked with him along the seawall. "We're going to wake up the whole house. People are going to yell."

"Sacher said Jema was found thirty minutes ago outside the front gates," Jaus told her. "The household is already awake. No one yells."

"What I don't get is why Thierry saved Jema," Alex said as she walked along the seawall with him. "How does Thierry know Jema?"

"He likely chanced upon her while she was being attacked." He opened the back gate for her. "Durand has always been protective of women." He had been prepared to do what he could to save Cyprien's friend, even after Lucan's brutal advice. Though Thierry had saved Jema through some happy act of fate, in his madness Jaus knew he could have just as easily killed her.

Alexandra rang the front doorbell twice before a tired-looking maid answered it. "We're terribly sorry to disturb you, but we heard about Miss Shaw and wanted to check on her. I'm Dr. Keller, and you probably already know Mr. Jaus."

"Yes, ma'am. Sir." The maid gave Jaus a wan smile. "Please come in. I'll let Mrs. Shaw know you're here."

They were shown into a parlor off the main entry, but before they could sit down a white-haired woman in an electric wheelchair came in.

"Mrs. Shaw. This is my friend Dr. Keller." Too agitated to engage in elaborate introductions, Valentin left it at that.

"How is Jema?"

"She is recovering from a vicious a.s.sault and a severe head injury, Mr. Jaus. How do you think she is?" Meryl Shaw eyed Alex briefly. "It is after midnight, and the police have just left. Perhaps you and your lady friend could hara.s.s us another time." Alexandra frowned but said nothing.

"I beg your pardon, madam." Jaus was taken aback by her manner as much as her rudeness. "I came to offer what help I can. Is Jema's condition serious? Should she be transported to the hospital?" He could have men guard her around the clock at any facility in the city.

"If you'd rather keep her at home tonight, Mrs. Shaw, I'd be happy to examine her," Alex offered. "I'm a reconstructive surgeon, so I'm very familiar with head trauma."

Meryl looked more insulted than impressed. "Our family physician, Dr. Bradford, is looking after her, thank you.

Now, if that is all-"

"No, it is not," Jaus said. "Forgive me, but I am very fond of your daughter. I will not be able to rest until I... until I have a.s.sured myself that she is well cared for."

"Mrs. Shaw, there is something else you should know," Alex said before Meryl could reply. "I've tested one of Jema's syringes to check the type of insulin she's using. Dr. Bradford has not been honest with you or your daughter.

The syringe was filled with a substance that only looks like insulin."

"Jema may not be as sick as you think," Jaus put in. "Her illness could actually be caused by Dr. Bradford's treatment."

"What are you talking about?" Meryl gripped the arms of her wheelchair. "Jema has suffered from juvenile diabetes since birth. Her condition has seriously deteriorated, and we've all accepted that the end is near. There is nothing anyone can do for her. Tonight's incident was bad enough, but now you barge in here to make such ridiculous accusations? I should have you thrown out. I think I will." She wheeled over to pick up the house phone.

"I will bring the lab reports to you, Mrs. Shaw, so you may see the evidence for yourself." Jaus nodded to Alex.

"Dr. Keller has spent a great deal of time testing Jema's medication. Dr. Bradford is not helping your daughter. He could be killing her."

"Enough of this." Meryl put down the phone and turned to Alex. "I don't what your motives are, young woman, but you're grossly mistaken. I've known Daniel Bradford for thirty years. He has done everything he could to keep Jema's diabetes under control." She glared at Jaus. "He's the reason she's alive."

"On the contrary, Mrs. Shaw. I'll bet that Jema doesn't even have diabetes," Alex said. "If you don't want to believe me, then have Jema's 'insulin' tested at an independent lab. They will confirm everything I've told you."

Alex's words pounded inside Jaus's skull, and the arctic fury that had driven him in the lists closed around him.

"Where is Dr. Bradford?" he asked softly.

"He is with Jema, naturally," Meryl said. Disgust contorted her face. "I've heard enough of this nonsense. Please leave my home at once."

Jaus had never cared for Jema's mother. She was a hateful, bitter old woman who clung to her daughter like a leech.

How much joy had she sucked out of his lady's life with her constant nagging and complaining? His men had reported that Meryl was a hypochondriac, and fancied herself to have a bad heart. It would be nothing to slip into Shaw House one night and put an end to her imagined suffering. Then Jema would be free.

"Val. Val." Alex was tugging on his arm. "Time to go home."

"I have to see her." He looked blindly at Alex. "I can't leave like this."

"We'll come back tomorrow." She met Meryl's furious gaze. "Jema should feel up to having visitors tomorrow evening, shouldn't she, Mrs. Shaw?"

"I couldn't say, Dr. Keller. Jema hasn't regained consciousness yet." Meryl wheeled out of the room.

"He walked in here as if he owned the place." If Meryl could have risen from her wheelchair one time in her life, she would have done so tonight,, to slap Valentin Jaus's face. "You should have heard him issuing orders. To me. The snide midget. Who does he think he is?"

"I'm glad you were firm with him. You'll also be happy to know that Jema is resting comfortably and in no danger," Daniel told her as he poured himself a drink. "In the event you were actually worried about her."

"That's your job, Daniel. Not mine." Meryl rolled over and took the gla.s.s he had poured for himself. "You'll have to burn her clothes and clean up the car. I don't want anyone to connect her with the murders. I told Jaus that the police had already been here. If anyone asks, you say it's been reported."

"Since we haven't actually reported it, I wonder precisely how your neighbor heard about it," he said. "How are you going to keep this quiet? Jema will want to make a statement to the police."

"We only need a few more days. Leave Jema to me. Why does this Keller woman think Jema isn't diabetic? How did she get one of her needles?"

"I have no idea. The syringes go into the incinerator every month, as usual. They burn better than Roy did." He made another drink for himself. "What did she say about Jema?"

"Some nonsense about her insulin. It was probably just an excuse to get Jaus up to see her; his father used to try sending doctors over here when she was little, remember? I can't have all this attention on us now." Meryl twisted the gla.s.s between her hands. "Not when we're so close."

"I could arrange to admit Jema early," Daniel offered. "In fact, we could use this mugging as an excuse to do it. The hospital has been keeping her bed ready. All I have to do is arrange the transport and take her up there."

"What I can't understand is why Jaus is so interested in her. The man is handsome, even if he is a foreigner. He's rumored to own half the city, so he couldn't want her for her inheritance." Meryl concentrated. "What did Jema tell the upstairs maid again about his party? Something about a gift."

Every conversation Jema had with the household staff was reported back to Meryl and Daniel.

"Jaus told her that he has a special gift for her. Something that he's been saving for a long time." Daniel sat down and rested his forearms on his knees. "It could just be a vase for the flowers he keeps sending her."

"I wonder if it could be something his father was saving." Meryl searched her memory for what her husband had told her about Valentin Sr. "James and Jaus's father were good friends. He always went to visit him whenever we were in town. I never cared for him, so I stayed home. In fact, James encouraged me to stay home. Said all they did was sit around and talk about weapons. Jaus apparently collected swords."

"I don't see the connection."

"James didn't have casual friends." She tapped her lips with a thin finger. "We socialized when we had to with people from the university, mostly to get grants and funding, but Jaus's father was the only man I can recall James ever making time to see." Had she been looking in the wrong direction all this time? "What if James took the Homage to Jaus's father thirty years ago and asked him to keep it for him? Without ever bringing it to the museum."

"That's quite a stretch. James came back to the States only to bring you and Jema home," he reminded her. "You told me that he left for Athos the very next day."

"He did, but I was sedated for the trip, so I didn't wake up until after he'd left for Rome." She felt a cautious excitement. "He could have walked over to Jaus's house anytime that night."

"But why would he?" Daniel laughed. "Meryl, the Homage was his obsession. He wouldn't have handed it over to your next-door neighbor."

"He would have handed Jema over to him, you idiot. Why didn't I think of it before now?" She wheeled herself over to the filing cabinet where she kept the legal papers, unlocked it, and took out a copy of James's will. She had been so angry when the lawyer had told her the terms of it that she had completely forgotten about the custody clause. "It's right here." She flipped through the legal doc.u.ment until she found the section on guardians.h.i.+p. "If I had died while Jema was a minor, Valentin Jaus Sr. would have been appointed her legal guardian."

"That's not proof that he has the Homage," Daniel said.

"Why leave Jema in the custody of Jaus's father? There were a dozen people we knew better who were younger and better capable of taking care of a child." She dropped the file in her lap and stared at nothing. "It would be just like James to give Jaus the Homage."

"If he gave it to anyone, it would have been to you."

"No. He was furious with me for causing the cave to collapse." Meryl remembered the only thing James had said to her after the accident. I'd throttle you, you b.i.t.c.h, but she needs a mother. "Jaus has never invited Jema to any of his parties.

Why this one, on the night before her thirtieth birthday, if it doesn't have anything to do with his legacy? Jaus wouldn't have to know what the Homage was. James could have told him anything." She stared at him, aghast at her own suggestion. "He could have told the old man what else would happen on her thirtieth birthday." "I still think this is very far-fetched, Meryl, but I suppose you could ask Jaus if he has it," Daniel suggested.

"Perhaps tomorrow. You should also tell him that Jema will be in no condition to attend his party."

"I will do no such thing," Meryl told him. "We'll have to go with her to the party, and search Jaus's house. I can't allow him to give her the Homage. She'd start talking about it, and the press would get involved, and then it would ruin everything."

"Yes," Daniel said, looking sad now. "I suppose it would."

Chapter 17.

John Keller had nearly quit his job at the Haven a dozen times since Dougall Hurley had hired him. This morning resignation number thirteen wrote itself inside his head.

It was rather like a confession, beginning with To Whom It May Concern instead of Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.

It might sound better, in fact, if it did.

Father, forgive me, for I have sinned. It has been seven months since I left the priesthood to become a private citizen. Despite my wishes, I am incapable of meeting the challenge of providing quality counseling for the Haven's clients. This could be due to the fact that I am a) a failed priest; b) a former homeless child who never effectively transitioned into a productive adult life; or c) at odds with two dark forces, both of whom know where I live and work now. P.S. I can't sleep. Amen. Yours sincerely, John Patrick

John thought the wording needed a little work, especially the part about the dark forces. He doubted he could think up any acceptable business euphemisms for vampiric immortal demons and s.a.d.i.s.tic zealot inquisitors. Also, it was extremely apologetic. He was tired of apologizing to people for failing them. Hurley had known John was a failure from the beginning; he should have hired someone with more promising personal dynamics.