26. Tristan
Chapter twenty-six
Tristan
After Piper retires for the evening, I go to the library. The library feels strange without her. It’s always been my sanctuary. Tonight it feels as though the room has lost its brightest light.
The fire has settled into glowing embers.
I think of how her heart was fluttering during the storm and how I was on my way to comfort her when she ran to me. How I enjoy sparring with her at dinner. How she’s stubborn and courageous and flirtatious. How her blood smells so tantalizing. How I can’t imagine the castle without her and Murphy.
I call Duncan.
"My Lord."
"She received another invitation."
"Already?"
"House MacGowan."
"So."
"So."
"They're moving more quickly than I anticipated."
"I was hoping Sebastian had simply been ... curious. And now Hamish is showing his hand."
I walk slowly toward the library window. Mist hangs low across the gardens as the moon glows above.
"They invited her to the Aurelian Arts Benefit."
Duncan exhales quietly.
"I wondered who would make the second approach. You realize there will be more. The question isn't whether they'll come. It's how."
I rest one hand against the cool stone surrounding the window.
"They've begun treating Piper as though she already belongs to our world."
Duncan pauses.
"And that's precisely what makes her very vulnerable."
Silence settles between us. Finally I ask, "What have you learned regarding ownership and the legalities?"
"I've been tracing the ownership trail. It’s not clear yet, but it’s leaning towards legality for Miss Monroe."
"What have you discovered in your studies? Is there anything we can do to avert disaster?”
"It becomes more interesting the farther back I go."
"How so?"
"The companies who handle the estate changed names. The directors changed with retirement or death. The trustees retired. But one name keeps appearing."
"Whose?"
"A banking firm in Geneva. Valerius it could be devastating for the older Houses, for perceived blood rights …
The young Houses believe in taking blood, holding humans in bondage quietly, in domination.
"My focus is that she is not declared the legal owner … In the meantime, they believe Piper can be persuaded and educated to them. And if they get the vote on releasing hereditary stewardship of the Accords, they believe they can take power."
Duncan continues.
"They'll invite her to dinners, concerts, foundations and boards before the convocation. They’ll surround her with perfectly civilized people. They won’t mention vampires at first. They’ll try to become indispensable, offer advice."
"And by the time she realizes she's chosen a side ... the only side she will hear …"
The elegance of it is infuriating. No coercion or threats, only influence, exactly as the younger Houses prefer. Though the younger Houses are also brutal, killers, takers of blood and dubious in their goals. It’s typically all about increasing their wealth and power.
Duncan clears his throat.
"There is one advantage. They still don't know Piper and her strong character. They assume she'll behave weakly or fearfully. They've never met an American property developer, if that’s what we call her. And they don’t know that she listens to you."
He pauses then continues, "My Lord ... we have a little time while the courts work on the question of ownership. But in the meantime, she refused both invitations without hesitation on your advice. She trusts you.”
"She shouldn't. I've done nothing to deserve that trust."
I look toward the floor above where Piper now sleeps peacefully, blissfully unaware that ancient Houses are quietly attempting to court her allegiance.
"I haven't told her what I am. The truth."
Duncan's voice softens. "You've shown her kindness."
"I've shown her tea."
"Sometimes there's very little difference."
Finally Duncan says quietly, "The time has come. You must tell her what you are. What being involved in this property means. What these invitations are all about … So that when the Houses eventually arrive..."
He lets the sentence hang.
"...she isn't the only person in the room who doesn't understand the game."
I know he's right. Once I begin telling Piper the truth ... I cannot untell it. There will be no returning to ordinary conversations. No pretending I am merely an eccentric Scottish aristocrat with an unusually old library.
I wanted to wait for the legalities of ownership to be stated, one way or the other, to know if I needed to go down that road. But Duncan is right, the time has come…
She will learn what I am. What I have been. What I still struggle to contain every five days. And once she knows ... she may never look at me the same way again.
"Tristan."
Duncan rarely uses my name. Only when speaking as a friend.
"Yes?"
"You've spent six centuries protecting Glenhaven Castle. Perhaps it's time you started protecting the woman who may potentially now own it."
The line goes quiet after we say our goodnights. I remain standing before the dying fire for a long time. My gaze drifts toward the fountain pen Piper gave me. So thoughtfully chosen.
It occurs to me that no member of any vampire House has ever attempted to win Glenhaven Castle or me with kindness.
Always with influence, power, money and even force or threats… but never kindness Perhaps that is why Piper has unsettled me so completely.
The younger Houses see her as an opportunity. A vote, a title, a means to an end. Maybe a human to drink from. Maybe a weak woman.
But I see the woman who thanked Mrs. MacLeod for polishing the silver and cooking dinner. Who looks at an old conservatory and sees the magic. Who trusts me without asking for proof.
Outside, the mist rolls quietly across the Highlands. Somewhere beyond it, ancient Houses are already planning their next move.
But so am I. Only mine has nothing to do with politics.
I will decide when and how I tell Piper the truth. I must plan it carefully.
Suddenly there is a small movement. Peripheral, at the edge of my vision. My fangs descend. What is it?
There’s nothing.
I exhale slowly.
Even immortals can become distracted, I suppose. I take a sip of my blood wine and then … another movement.
This time it’s closer. No sound or footsteps but the unmistakable sensation that someone has just crossed the corridor.
Suddenly I see a figure standing at the far end of the hall.
Tall and very thin, wrapped in layers of grey with a hood that hangs low where a face should be. It doesn’t move. It simply watches.
Every instinct I possess erupts at once, as a predator. My fangs descend and I cross the library before conscious thought catches me, in only a second.
"Who are you?" My voice strikes the stone walls.
The figure neither answers nor retreats. For one suspended heartbeat... we regard one another. Then the candle beside the gallery window flickers and the figure is gone.
There was no scent and no heartbeat. Every door remains closed. Every window locked. I search every room adjoining the library and the entire ground floor.
Nothing.
Piper has been telling the truth. Every word of it. She has not imagined this thing. Which meant something impossible has entered Glenhaven.
Someone... or something... has found a way past the protections that have guarded this castle since the night the Vampire Accords were signed.
And I don’t know why.