Cain's Identity(11)

John glared at him. “Because I was being watched! I could sense it. Had I made any attempt to provide protection for you, whoever wanted to harm you would have found you and killed you. I couldn’t risk it. It was safer this way. Everybody believes you’re dead. I made sure of that. I took your ring and some of your personal effects and placed them with the ash of the dead assassin so everybody would think it was you.”
“And now?” Cain asked. “Why come to me now?”
“Events have forced my hand.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Let’s take him downtown and lock him up,” Amaury suggested.
“Let’s go,” Cain agreed, tightening his hold on their captive and trying to pull him away from the wall.
John resisted and dropped his head, motioning to his jacket. “Please. I have proof. In my inside pocket.”
Cain hesitated.
“Let me,” Amaury interrupted and patted the area with his hand. “No weapons.”
Cain gave a nod then reached inside the vampire’s jacket. He felt a piece of smooth paper, gripped it and pulled it out.
A moment later, his heart stopped beating, and it felt as if the earth underneath his feet had stopped turning.
Cain stared at his own likeness. Though he’d never seen himself in a mirror since vampires didn’t reflect in mirrors, when he’d gotten his ID at Scanguards, they’d taken a picture of him. The man in the picture he was holding in his hands now and the photo on his ID were identical. But this fact wasn’t the reason his heart had stopped. It was the woman next to him.
She was the voluptuous beauty he’d made love to in his dreams. The woman whose name he couldn’t remember.
“Who is she?” His voice was only a faint echo.
“Faye. The woman you were going to marry.”
Cain stroked over the picture, wanting to touch her face. She was real. He hadn’t invented her. He met John’s eyes. “I have to see her.”
John hesitated. “There’s something you need to know.”
A bolt of adrenaline shot through his insides. “Is she alive?”
“Yes, yes, of course. But . . .”
Cain gripped John by the collar. “Damn it! What is it then?”
“Your brother Abel has asked Faye to marry him when he ascends to the throne in less than two weeks.”
Cain released John and jerked back. The news crashed over him like a tsunami, drowning him in a devastation he hadn’t thought was possible.
“No!” The scream dislodged from Cain’s throat without any conscious effort on his part. Only when he heard it echo in the night did he know that he’d screamed.
With it one thought settled in his mind: he would take his old life back.

6
 
Faye heard the angry voices before she reached the large room on the ground level of the palace where the king, or now the regent, conducted business. It was part office, part living area, with a comfortable seating arrangement in front of a roaring fireplace.
She remembered the many times she had sat there in Cain’s arms after he’d dismissed everybody when his work for the night was done. She’d looked forward to those rare moments with him where Cain would talk to her about everything that concerned him. She’d become his sounding board.
Faye swept into the room, ignoring the two guards who stood at the open double doors. They’d once been Cain’s guards and didn’t stop her, still affording her the same courtesy as during Cain’s reign.
She wasn’t the only spectator to the scene that played out in Abel’s presence. Other members of the royal household were present, too: advisors, guards, and other staff. All watched the vampire who stood before Abel, his head hung in defeat.
Faye recognized him instantly. “Robert!” She rushed toward him and Abel. “What’s going on?”
Abel turned his gaze to her, but Robert, the man who was in charge of procuring human blood for the palace—both packaged as well as in the form of actual human donors—didn’t turn his head.
“I’m afraid Robert has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar,” Abel said, his voice even. Then he looked back to the man before him. “It’s a grave offense. I’m sure you’re aware of it.”
“I didn’t steal it. I—”
Abel lashed the back of his hand across the other vampire’s cheek, slicing it open with the diamond ring he wore. The scent of blood instantly saturated the air.
Faye’s fangs involuntarily itched in their sockets, despite the fact that the blood she smelled wasn’t human. She knew it was a survival instinct, because whenever vampire blood was in the air all vampires close enough to smell it became more aggressive. They were like sharks in that respect.