Part 27 (2/2)

Janousek smiled and reached into his coat pocket. ”You'll have to figure that out for yourself,” he said, and handed David a small plastic bag. ”I have no idea why I kept it all this time-Prime's instinct, I suppose. That and I admit I'm a bit of a pack rat. I had forgotten all about it until you asked for my help when we spoke last week. I had it stashed away in the archives with everything else from Horak's tenure. It took me hours to find it.”

David took the scorched sc.r.a.p of yellowed paper, so old it was crumbling. ”My G.o.d.”

He turned it over, trying to discern what was written on it. On one side all he could see was a number, 4.19, and the faded remains of a single word; on the other, it looked like there had been some kind of symbol.

”It's probably meaningless. But you're the mad scientist of the Council, so if anyone can make something of it, you can.”

”Jacob, I could kiss you,” David said.

A grin. ”I appreciate the gesture, Lord Prime, but you're really not my type.”

”This may be the first solid link we've had to the Alpha, or to the Shadow at all. I'll have it a.n.a.lyzed immediately. Thank you, Jacob.”

”I hope it helps.”

They had reached the main building, and the guards opened the doors for them.

”Now then,” Janousek said, ”I was wondering, Lord Prime-does your Haven have a chapel?”

David was too distracted by the paper in his hand to be surprised by the question. ”Yes-it's in the South Wing. I can take you there now if you like.”

”I would appreciate that.”

David led the way down the hall. ”I doubt ours is as nice as yours,” he told Janousek.

”Nice is relative,” Jacob replied. ”But it's not stained gla.s.s and stone that matter, it's what's inside-what you can't see-that counts.”

”This way.” David showed him down a long corridor in the South Wing to a pair of double doors with a stained-gla.s.s inset flickering with candlelight.

David knew that some of the Elite used the chapel for weekly services; he'd been in the room only once or twice, but he remembered it being a fairly simple s.p.a.ce with a peaceful atmosphere, pretty but not pretentious. It had been built without any specific iconography, like a military chapel, so that pract.i.tioners of multiple faiths could use it. The far end of the room was oriented east, so even the four or five Muslim Elite he employed found it useful.

He didn't expect anyone to be inside now, but an Elite stood at the door; he recognized her as Elite 29, who had been a.s.signed as Cora's main bodyguard because she was fluent in Italian. Cora had no idea how closely she was being watched; David had instructed the guards to keep their distance and let her come and go mostly as she pleased, but he had learned the hard way when Miranda had first come to the Haven that even with a com on her wrist, she could be vulnerable.

”Sire,” the Elite said with a bow. ”I hope this isn't a problem-there were no scheduled services and Miss Cora likes to come here.”

”No problem at all,” David told her. ”Prime Janousek wanted to pay a visit.”

He turned to the Prime. ”The woman we offered asylum from Hart, Cora, is in there now; she's a bit shy of strangers, especially men.”

Janousek nodded, understanding. ”I'll wait out here, then, until she's done. I would hate to frighten her in the middle of her prayers.”

”If you don't mind, then, I'll take my leave for the morning-I need to meet Faith and get this to my lab.”

”I don't mind at all. I plan to spend an hour with G.o.d and then retire for the day. We'll speak again at sunset, of course.”

”Thank you, Jacob.”

David started to walk away, but the chapel door opened and Cora emerged.

She saw them and made a faint yelping sound, moving to duck back into the chapel.

”It's all right, Cora,” David said quickly in Italian. ”I was just leaving, and our guest wanted to use the chapel when you were finished. There's no hurry.”

Cora swallowed hard and nodded. He noticed she looked a hundred times better than when she'd come to the Haven; he'd barely looked at her when he had raced into the yoga studio to answer the call of Miranda's distress, but she did look healthier, and even as frightened as she obviously was, she made eye contact with him.

Or at least, she did for a second. Her attention was pulled from him to Prime Janousek, who David realized was staring at her, wide-eyed.

She stared right back.

Suddenly David remembered where he had seen that thunderstruck expression before.

Sure enough, as Janousek opened his mouth to attempt to speak, the amber stone of his Signet flared once, twice . . . and began to flash.

Cora didn't understand why this man was looking at her as if she were some kind of ghost, but she knew one thing: As soon as she saw him, she was irresistibly drawn to him . . . and the only thing she could think to do was run.

The two men didn't chase her, not that it mattered; this was the Prime's house, and she had no right to run away, even if there was anyplace she could go that he couldn't follow. But still, she ran, as hard and fast as she could, until she had gained the safety of her room, flung herself backward against the door, and burst into tears.

Her mind and heart were spinning so fast she could barely breathe. The man's kind eyes were burned into her skull, inviting . . . something . . . some part of her that she hadn't even known existed rising up and reaching out . . .

She panicked, her breath coming in hoa.r.s.e gasps, her only identifiable desire to hide. She ended up curled in a ball on the far side of the bed, wis.h.i.+ng she could shrink into nothing.

What was happening? Who was he? What did he want with her? And why did she want to . . . what did she want?

She had been praying, feeling peaceful and at rest, almost . . . dared she say it . . . happy. Her guard had shown her the chapel a few days ago, and she had loved its simplicity: stone walls, a few stained-gla.s.s panels with electric lights behind them that cast a soft glow over the movable pews. The panels were images of the countryside where the Haven stood, night time images in blue and purple. A cabinet on one wall contained the trappings of several religions, and her guard had shown her where to find a painted resin statue of the Virgin to place on the altar, along with a cloth and some candles. The only rule was that she had to put things away when she was done.

Now her peace was shattered, and she prayed again, mumbling into her crossed arms, asking G.o.d to help her . . . whatever this was . . . please, make it go away. Make him go away.

G.o.d didn't seem to be listening, however. There was a soft knock at the door.

She couldn't speak, not even when a voice called, ”Cora?”

She buried her head in her arms, hoping he would leave, but a moment later she heard the door open and footsteps approaching her.

”Cora,” he said gently in her language, ”you don't have to be afraid.”

She lifted her head. ”Who are you?”

He had settled cross-legged a few feet away from her, leaving plenty of room but close enough that he didn't have to raise his voice to be heard. ”My name is Jacob,” he said. ”I am the Prime of Eastern Europe.”

She stared at the Signet around his neck. It was still flas.h.i.+ng, but not as brightly, now that it had their attention. ”I don't understand what this means.”

He nodded. ”I had a feeling you didn't.”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, and she was struck by the overwhelming feeling that she knew him, though she had never seen him before tonight. Her fear, as habitual a response as it was, was fighting with a strange, new curiosity, wondering how she recognized the way his nose crinkled when he smiled.

”Do you know what Signets are for?” he asked her. She knew a little, but she couldn't make herself speak, and she shook her head mutely. ”They are a badge of office to show the world who the strongest vampires are, but they choose their bearers themselves. It's magic as old as the world-there are even some vague references from biblical times. When a Signet finds its Prime, it flashes and continues to glow . . . and then when that Prime finds his Queen, it flashes again.”

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