Lethe's Kiss (Ari & Soren Book 3)

Chapter 6 - Soren

"I suppose you found that amusing."

My father's voice at my back might have made another man jump. He'd moved without a sound, and even I—a vampire of near equal power, if not quite of equal skill—had not detected his approach. I was, however, used to him by now.

"I don't know what you mean."

I turned, having just completed my task of transferring the collected blood—still warm, and still fragrant with Ari's particular exotic spice—to an earthenware oil jug, stoppered with a cork. The vessel's opaqueness would help reduce the risk of further temptation.

Out of sight, out of mind.

"Don't play innocent with me, Soren. I know you too well."

He stood several paces back, immaculate as usual except for a tiny red mark on his lower lip where he'd cut himself on his own tooth. He watched me with the cool, assessing gaze I realized I hated.

It was impossible to tell what thoughts—what schemes—might be passing behind his silver, fish-scale eyes.

"Fine. I was amused, yes," I admitted. "You should have known better than to think yourself above such temptation. You're not invincible, you know."

He didn't answer immediately, but stood statue-still, calm and cool as stone. When he spoke, his words surprised me, as did his gentle, slightly sad tone.

"No, my son, I am not invincible," he said. "No one knows that better than I."

He nodded at the jar.

"You have it, then? We should deliver it while it retains the heat of life, and before it begins to congeal."

If he was content to let the matter rest, so was I.

"Fine. What of Ari? Should he stay here, or come with us?"

My father shrugged. "He can do as he pleases, surely. We shall ask him."

He led the way, returning through the tall, dark oak doors to the library.

As we approached the cluster of chairs by the windows, I saw that Ari sat with his head tilted back, eyes closed, clearly unconscious. I started forward, already alight with fear, but my father caught my shoulder in a grip that brought me to a halt.

"Listen," he said.

Alarmed, I opened my senses wide, expecting to hear some new threat—all sorts of terrible possibilities intruding on my mind—but nothing unusual met my ears.

"Listen," my father said again, and nodded towards Ari's seated form.

Turning my attention towards this, I focused, concentrating hard and still balanced on the edge of fear.

I heard only the quiet, rhythmic beating of his heart, and the slow, steady whisper of his breath.

"I don't—"

"He is fine, Soren," my father said. "He is sleeping. Leave him be."

I relaxed, frowning. It seemed he was determined to show me up after all.

"Come. Let us see to our task. The sooner it is done, the better, I think."

Leading the way, he turned and exited the library again, passing through the incongruously modern kitchen and dining space, and then down the long, stone-floored hallway towards the door leading to the caverns below.

We descended—I, bearing the jar of blood—and finally came to a halt before the solid metal door of the cell.

"I took some additional precautions, after the incident last night," my father said, drawing back the bolts and unlocking the door. "I dislike the use of restraints, but in this case, I had to concede the necessity."