Chapter 7 #3
The notes rose from Rafe’s violin, and Philippe’s heart soared with it.
Philippe needed only a few seconds to realize that Rafe was playing a modified version of the Arabian dance from Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite.
Rafe’s playing was so beautiful, and Gideon’s dance was perfectly matched to it.
Slow and sinuous, the dancer moved as if he were part of the music.
There was a haunting elegance and grace to him that stole Philippe’s breath away.
He was getting a rare glimpse into something incredibly private. It was a gift he’d always treasure.
Rafe’s playing lasted only a few minutes, and Philippe was saddened that he didn’t get to hear more, but he loudly applauded when both Rafe and Gideon stopped. Gideon smiled and bowed deeply, while Rafe just winked, returning his violin and bow to the safety of the case.
“Beautiful, as always,” Rafe praised. He crossed the room with his hand extended and Gideon hurried to take it.
“Only because of you.”
“And you must pay for my gift.”
“Of course,” Gideon eagerly agreed.
“You must promise me to take either Lola or Ryder with you to hunt in the next three days.”
Gideon’s mouth opened and it looked as if he was going to argue, but he shut it again with a little click of his teeth and nodded. “I will,” he agreed solemnly but he didn’t look happy about it.
“You will also tell Lola and Ryder if you’re in pain again. They’ll offer their blood.”
“But—”
“I might not always be around,” Rafe cut him off sharply. “You being in pain is not acceptable to me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Gideon whispered.
“You will speak to Lola or Ryder?”
“But Ryder won’t…”
Rafe chuckled as he placed his hand under Gideon’s chin, tilting his head up so that he was forced to look into Rafe’s eyes. “Ryder would be only too happy to supply you with blood every night if needed. Do you doubt me?”
A bright blush stole across Gideon’s pale cheeks, but Philippe wasn’t sure if it was the insinuation that this Ryder had a secret interest in Gideon or that Gideon secretly doubted Rafe’s insight into the other vampire. “No, of course not.”
“Good. Now run along. I’ve got business, and you’re expected at Blush.”
Gideon’s sad expression evaporated, and he threw himself at Rafe, giving him a quick hug before he was running toward the elevator again.
Rafe silently shook his head as he flopped back in the chair he’d been in only moments ago.
A faint smile lingered on his lips. Philippe wordlessly closed the sliding door behind him and crossed the room, pausing only long enough to pick up the glass Rafe drank out of earlier.
Slipping behind the bar, he pulled another bag of blood from the mini fridge and poured the contents into the glass.
Rafe had barely replenished the blood from being shot. He didn’t have the strength to give blood to a hungry fledgling. He needed to hunt. The bagged blood was only a stopgap measure. But at Rafe’s age, Philippe suspected he preferred to hunt alone.
Of course, he could offer his own neck to Rafe. There was something far too tempting in the idea. The thought of Rafe’s fangs sliding into his vein, drawing Philippe’s blood down his throat. Drawing new strength from Philippe, binding them together.
But it was a dangerous thing, letting a vampire of Rafe’s advanced years feed from his throat. It wasn’t done. And he had a feeling Rafe would refuse him even if he did offer. Rafe had no reason to trust him with such a gift. And Philippe didn’t want to hear that rejection cross his lips.
The bagged blood would hold Rafe over until he could hunt alone.
Returning to the living room, Philippe placed the full glass on the table at Rafe’s elbow and took a seat on the sofa next to him.
“Thank you,” Rafe said with a wry smile as he picked up the glass. He immediately drained the contents and set it down on the table with a relieved sigh.
They sat in silence for several seconds.
Philippe was overflowing with questions, but he wasn’t sure he was permitted to ask.
He’d been given a glimpse of something very private, something Philippe wasn’t even sure Rafe’s brothers knew about.
Rafe could have easily asked him to leave, but he allowed Philippe to stay.
“Gideon is special to me,” Rafe admitted. His voice was low and rough. He kept his eyes lowered, locked on the coffee table in front of him as if he wasn’t ready to meet Philippe’s gaze.
“He’s not your fledgling.”
Rafe shook his head. “I’ve never…” He left the sentence drift off unfinished.
“I found Gideon about ten, fifteen years ago. His maker…his maker was cruel. He’d been obsessed with Gideon, but Gideon was afraid of him.
Wouldn’t worship him like he wanted. Gideon tried to run.
So the fucker broke both of Gideon’s legs right before he turned him. ”
“Bastard,” Philippe snarled, and he meant it. He’d encountered far too many vampires who were hideously cruel to both humans and other vampires.
“His legs never did heal quite right. When he puts off feeding too long, the pain becomes too much for him.” Rafe shoved a hand through his hair, fisting his fingers in the strands so that they stood up.
“When I found him…he couldn’t even walk.
” His voice was choked, and there was a part of Philippe that ached to pull Rafe into his arms, to ease the pain of the old memory, but Philippe remained where he was.
“But your blood gave him back that ability. You’ve erased his pain. Your gift is quite profound. You’ve given him back his joy.”
Rafe looked up and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “I worry I’ve become a crutch for him. He doesn’t like to hunt alone. He’s a gentle soul; he was never meant to be one of us. He doesn’t feel safe hunting alone.”
“You’ll help him find his way.”
“What will he do if something happens to me?” Rafe whispered as he released his hair and scrubbed a hand over his face.
Philippe felt that Rafe was talking more to himself than to the other vampire in the room, but Philippe understood the feeling.
He’d asked himself that same question far too many times over the years when he thought of his own clan.
Leaning over, Philippe placed his hand on Rafe’s knee and squeezed, drawing Rafe’s gaze to his face. “Nothing is going to happen to you. You’ll continue to be there for Gideon as well as your Lola and this Ryder. From what I’ve heard of Lola, she is only too happy to be there to watch your back.”
“Only because Lola takes too much joy in trying to tell me what to do,” Rafe said, but Philippe didn’t miss the gratitude in his eyes.
Philippe released Rafe’s knee and stood. “I should go. Tonight’s adventure has given me a lot to think about.” That was a massive understatement, though he felt he didn’t have nearly enough information on Piper and far more than he expected on Rafe.
He started to cross to the elevator when Rafe’s voice stopped him.
“Tomorrow night, then?”
Philippe turned to find that Rafe had stood and was now facing him. He raised a questioning brow at the other vampire.
“You know of another hunting ground, correct?” Rafe asked.
“Yes.”
“Let’s check that out tomorrow night.” His mouth tilted in the devilish smirk that was becoming so damn familiar. “See if we get shot at again?”
Philippe nodded, fighting his own smile. “At least we’ll know to watch for it.”
“I’ll see you here at eleven, then.”
Philippe nodded one last time and continued to the elevator. He had too much to think on, and the most important was that he might have misjudged Rafe completely. He hadn’t been prepared for that surprise.
Rafe walked over to where his violin rested in its case.
He let his fingers caress the glowing wood, loving the silky-smooth feel of the varnish.
After the murder of Julianna, he’d been afraid he’d never be able to pick up the instrument again.
Nearly every memory of the instrument was touched by her presence.
He’d thought the pain would be too much.
But the truth was that the violin was his only solace when his mind was troubled.
When he was unsure, he could pick it up and allow his unconscious mind to fall along old musical paths while he ruminated on new problems. When he played, he could still feel Julianna with him, watching over him, guiding him, loving him.
And tonight, he needed her.
Philippe left him feeling too unsettled. Too vulnerable.
But now that he was gone from the penthouse, the old hollowness came rushing back.
It didn’t make any sense. No one but his brothers, Lola, and Ryder knew about Gideon. His private family.
When Gideon appeared, Rafe could have easily asked Philippe to leave, and he was sure the vampire would have done so, but he wanted Philippe to remain.
He’d wanted to share that private moment, to show him the beauty of Gideon’s gift, but also the secret burden Rafe carried when it came to Gideon.
Something had told him that Philippe would understand like no one else.
He didn’t know why he was so confident in that, but he was.
And it scared him.
Luckily, he didn’t have to tackle that worry alone.
The elevator pinged again, announcing its return. Rafe didn’t need to turn to see who had arrived. He picked up the violin and bow, slowly drawing the bow across the string in a soft, forlorn cry.
Turning toward the living room, Rafe grinned to see Winter strolling into the room, his hands shoved into his pockets and a questioning look in his eyes.
His youngest brother had texted that he was waiting outside his penthouse until he was alone.
There was no escaping this conversation, and Rafe welcomed it.
“Eventful night,” Winter said as he dropped into one of the chairs.
Rafe continued to play. Not really a song. Just a lighthearted melody.
“Bel is still frothing, which is making Marcus irritable. Ethan has even started texting me. You need to talk to Bel again.” Winter paused and smirked.
“Or at least Ozzie.” He pointed out the balcony window to find not only Ozzie perched on the railing of his balcony, but a dozen other ravens lined up and watching him.
Growling, Rafe stopped playing and marched over to the sliding glass door.
He ripped it open and waved his bow at the ravens.
They cried out and scattered, filling the night air with their calls creating a loud cacophony.
Only Ozzie remained stubbornly perched on the railing, flapping his wings and shouting at Rafe.
“Go back to Bel! Tell him I’m just fine!”
Ozzie cawed some more.
“Shoo! Get out of here! Return, and I’ll serve you up rotisserie style.”
Ozzie cawed a couple of times more and then took to the air. Rafe stomped into the penthouse and closed the door. Winter chuckled softly.
“I don’t think he believes your threat because he knows you can’t cook.”
“I can hire someone for it,” Rafe grumbled. “I’ll call Bel later.”
“As to your earlier question, I’ve seen and heard nothing from the League since we dismantled the Black Wolf clan and the attack on Marcus’s home. I don’t think there are many survivors around, but I’ll check on them.”
Rafe nodded. Philippe’s suggestion hadn’t been a bad one.
It was very clear there were more than a few vampires out there who would like to get rid of all the Variks.
The destruction of the Black Wolf clan might have bought them a little breathing room as everyone took a step back to reassess the Variks, but it was far from over.
The only thing still nagging Rafe’s brain was the vampire he’d sensed close by. Not a human. He could have been wrong, but it was a strange thing to be wrong about. It wasn’t like he could confuse a human and a vampire.
“What are you thinking?” Winter asked.
Rafe shook his head as he returned the violin to its case. “Not sure. I thought I’d sensed a vampire before the attack, but it had been faint.”
“I can look into it…”
Rafe was already shaking his head. “No, just check on the League for me.”
“Got it.”
“And his power. Have you uncovered his power yet?” Rafe hated the urgency in his voice, but after their encounter in the hallway at Blush, he needed to know what Philippe’s power was, now more than ever. He had to be sure what he was feeling, what he was experiencing was all real.
“Not yet.”
Rafe frowned and turned toward the sliding glass door, but he didn’t see the city spread out in front of him. There was only Philippe in his mind, the memory of his touch, the rising need threatening to swallow him completely. And the trust. He found himself trusting Philippe too much.
“What’s happened, Rafe?” Winter sounded closer now even though he never heard him move.
“Nothing.”
“Rafe…”
“It’s nothing. I’m just being cautious for once.”
Winter was silent for several seconds, and Rafe had a feeling that Winter didn’t quite believe him, but he wasn’t the type to push. Not like Marcus or Bel.
“I’ll be close,” Winter said. Rafe drew in a deep breath and nodded. “We’re always close.” Those whispered words felt as if they were carried to him on a dancing winter wind. The next thing he heard was the chime of the elevator.
Rafe twisted around and found that he was alone. He huffed a laugh. That was Winter. More ghost than vampire or even man. The boogieman of the vampire world.
Regardless of the silly myths and legends that followed Wee One around, Rafe knew Winter was always there for him.
All his brothers were. He was just worried that if Philippe’s grip on him had nothing to do with his unique gift, then Rafe was very much in trouble, and his brothers would not be able to save him.