"I have recalled three shifts of guards," he told her. "After Falco's betrayal. Jaus had tunnels built under the mansion for quick evacuation. They will not take us, chérie. I promise you."
"I feel so much better." She sighed. "Anything else happening? Iran invade? Antarctica melt? The Cubs lose?"
The corner of his mouth curled. "There is another odd circumstance involved in this situation, although I hardly know what to make of it. It seems Jaus had a human female with him on the plane."
"Oh, really?" She smiled a little. "I know what to make of that. About time, too."
Cyprien's amusement faded. "She might have helped the phony pilot hijack the plane."
"Val isn't that stupid." She wagged her finger at him. "You're only thinking that because you're not a romantic."
"I strongly disagree." He bent down and kissed her. "If you need anything. I will be in the conference room."
Once Alex had taken down his vitals, she drew a blood sample from John and carried it over to the microscope, making several slides before putting a sample in the analyzer.
Under the scope, Alex saw several ruptured red blood cells and other markers that indicated that John was infected with malaria. Since he had spent years ministering to the poor in South America, she wasn't surprised: malaria ran rampant in tropical countries.
The only thing that perplexed her was the appearance of the ruptures. They had closed over, and the cells still appeared viable. That didn't conform to any type of malaria she had ever diagnosed.
"I knew I should have taken a couple of extra hematology seminars," she muttered as she changed slides.
Valentin woke several times during the day to check on Liling and coax her into drinking a little water. The incision mark had vanished, as had the small broken blood vessels in the flesh over her rib cage. Her body temperature fluctuated wildly, however, growing hot with fever and then plummeting until she shivered in a cold, clammy huddle against him.
He kept her clean, dry, and warm, and talked to her. Sometimes he spoke of Luisa and how over time he had come to care for her. He described the many stained-glass windows he had seen during his travels, and the castles and cathedrals and great mansions they had illuminated. At times he felt like a fool for talking to an unconscious human, but he kept hoping that the sound of his voice would rouse her, or at least comfort her.
After the sun set, he rose and prepared some clear broth, but he was able to give her only a few spoonfuls before she vomited again. Gently he bathed her with a damp cloth, then dressed her in an old, extra-large T-shirt one of the cabin's former occupants had left behind.
"The plane is going to crash," she muttered in her sleep as he put her on the old battered couch and pulled it near the fireplace. "We're going to die."
She had drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally speaking a few words but never anything as lucid as this.
"The plane did not crash," he told her, lifting her so that he could sit with her head on his lap. Being close to him and hearing his voice seemed to calm her during these delirious moments. He stroked the tangled mess of her hair. "We are alive."
She reached, found his hand, and curled her fingers around it. His hand, which should have been useless, held hers securely. He had not held a woman's hand in years, he thought as he closed his eyes, not since the night of his Halloween masque.
Valentin gestured to the small orchestra he had hired to play for his guests at the masque, and turned to Jema. She looked like a princess in the midnight blue gown he had chosen for her. "Would you honor me with the first dance of the night, my lady?"
A line appeared between her eyebrows; she had not been expecting to be asked. "Oh." She looked down at his boots, which Sacher had polished to a glassy finish. "You don't have sensitive toes, do you? I haven't danced in years."
Charmed by her modesty, and unwilling to let her refuse, Valentin led her out onto the floor. With a nod to the conductor, who immediately struck up a waltz, he took her into his arms and spun her out onto the ballroom floor.
Jema gazed around them. "Mr. Jaus," she said in a whisper, "no one else is dancing."
"They are shy," he whispered back, smiling into her eyes. "We will show them how it is done, ja?"
Over the centuries, Jaus had danced at a thousand balls in as many courts. His accomplished partners had been lovely women, important women, women he had desired, and women he had bedded. Yet he could not remember a single dance that thrilled him as much as this. Jema was like an angel in his arms, floating along with him as the music rose and ebbed. He turned her across the floor so quickly she grew breathless. She didn't seem to mind, however, and even laughed when she stumbled.
The Kyn watched them dance, and Jaus felt their silent disapproval. A lord paramount did not single out a mere human female for such attention; it violated their customs and the sanctity of their ranks. Aware that appearances had to be maintained, some of Jaus's guests began pairing and joined them on the dance floor. Although they waltzed in perfect form, they still watched Jaus with Jema, as curious as they were condemning.
Valentin found that he didn't care. He held the woman he loved, and she mattered more to him than the opinions of his own kind.
"Is there some dirt on my face?" Jema asked Jaus.
Valentin returned the scrutiny of Lord and Lady Halkirk with a cool smile before he answered her. "Not a speck. Why do you ask?"
"No reason." She seemed uneasy now with the attention being given to them.
He had no intention of hiding his regard for Jema after this night, whatever the Kyn thought of them. Still, she felt uncomfortable, and he knew how to distract her. "You have lied to me. You are an excellent dancer. You must have practiced for years in secret."
She gave him one of her sunny smiles. "You caught me. I sneak out to ballrooms five, six nights a week."
"You must permit me to escort you one night." He dared to pull her a little closer during the next turn. "I get so tired of watching the History Channel. I feel as if I know the script for every program." As well as how often they got it wrong, he thought with some irony.
"You should try the SciFi Channel. They have some great miniseries, like Children of Dune. I loved that one." Jema fell silent for a moment. "Did your friends expect you to bring one of your girlfriends tonight?"
Of course—she would want to know if there were any other women in his life. He had invited her to be with him tonight; he held her in his arms. She had to at least suspect that he had feelings for her. "I will tell you a secret," he said, leaning closer, moving his hand to the small of her back. "I have no girlfriends. I am all alone in the world, Miss Shaw."
"Oh." Jema seemed confused, and peered at him oddly. "You're not gay, are you?"
"I am feeling quite happy." He saw the blood rush to her face and knew he had misinterpreted her. "Gay… ah, you mean it as a lover of other men. No, I am not."
"Thank heavens. I mean, not that it would be terrible if you were, just a terrible waste." She groaned. "Please step on my toes anytime now."
How adorable she was, blushing and stammering like this. She was grateful that he did not prefer men. It was the sort of encouragement he had needed. Valentin had only to be sure of her feelings for him.
"It is difficult to guess what impression you make upon another person," he said softly. "I am not offended." He lifted his hand and brushed a piece of hair from her check, and then rested his hand against the side of her neck. "I would very much like to know your opinion of me."
She could not lie to him now, not compelled as she was by his touch, his talent.
"You're very handsome, of course, and in great shape," she said sincerely. "You're one of the nicest men I know. I don't know anyone who grows such beautiful flowers as you do."
A tall Kyn dressed as a golden demon brushed by him, taking Jema from his arms and whirling away with her into the falling snow. Before they disappeared, the demon took off his mask to reveal Thierry Durand's face.
Valentin stood alone in the center of the empty ballroom. She did not care for him. Jema and her lover had vanished along with the rest of the Kyn. Jaus had loved a human female for nearly all of her life, and she had given her heart to another.
"Do you see now?"
A woman dressed in black and wearing the mask of a scarlet bird walked to the edge of the dance floor. She stood there as if waiting for an answer.
"Leave me."
"Why should I?" she asked. "She is not coming back. She chose another instead of you. She will never love you. She does not even know you."
Valentin strode across the dance floor and took the jeering woman by the arms. "Who are you to speak to me of her? "
"I am everything you wished her to be," she said, her hands coming to rest on his chest, her touch so hot it burned him. "But as long as you grieve for what you could never have, you will not have me. As you can never have her."
"I don't want you." He shoved her away from him. "You are nothing like her."
"I know that." The woman's mask burst into flame. "Do you?"
As he came awake, Valentin saw fire, and covered Liling's head with his arms, until he realized the flames were still confined to the fireplace in front of them.
Memories and dreams did not become visions,—at least, not for Jaus. The woman in the red swan mask had not been there that night of Halloween, when he had learned of Jema's true feelings for him. Yet he knew the masked woman; he could feel a sense of her in his bones. She was not Alexandra Keller, but she reminded him of her.
She, not Jema, had made his dents acérées extrude into his mouth. She had brought out the bloodlust in him, as if she were a real woman and not part of some fantastic vision.
Liling appeared to be sleeping peacefully, so Valentin eased away from her and silently left the cabin to stand outside. He knew part of his desire to feed was due to the isolation, just as a mortal denied water felt constant thirst. He considered catching and feeding on an animal—something desperate Kyn did when no humans were available for their use—but animal blood would make him ill, and he could not care for Liling in such condition. Nor would he risk leaving her alone here to walk out until he did find a human; he still had no idea how far they were from the nearest occupied area.
