He gave her a quick jerk of his chin in greeting, then turned to Nikolai. "My - gold."

"Very well." Though Nikolai evinced no expression on his face, Sebastian knew him well enough to discern his bitter disappointment. "If you'll follow me."

As Nikolai led him toward their father's old office, Myst followed, eyeing Sebastian warily, as if she considered herself a little guard for Nikolai. If she were half as vicious as Kaderin, she'd be tremendous at it.

The office that the three of them entered was being renovated, and shutters had been placed over every window. "I can't believe you're restoring Blachmount," Sebastian said in a disgusted tone.

"We plan to live here. Of course, you are always welcome to stay here," Nikolai said, but Sebastian scowled at that. "And you can trace to this specific room at any time if you need shelter in a hurry," Nikolai added. "These windows will be shuttered during the day without fail."

As if Sebastian would ever want to be here voluntarily. "How did you find my crates?" he demanded.

"I thought I sensed you the other night out on the property, so I scoured the grounds for some hint of you. I hadn't been optimistic about locating you again, especially not... recently." He cleared his throat, and a look passed between him and Myst. "Discovering the shovel and freshly dug earth was a great relief - "

"Take me to my gold."

Nikolai's lips thinned, but he crossed to the back wall to unlock a small wall safe. The bricks around it were new, as if repaired where someone had recently yanked it from the wall.

"How did you know what I am?" Myst asked him, drawing his attention. "Most mistake the Valkyrie for nymphs." She shook her head, then murmured to herself, "Hate those little hookers."

"I've seen your kind before," he said.

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"Where?" Nikolai asked, retrieving a case from the safe.

"Around." Sebastian's eyes narrowed when Nikolai set it on the desk.

"I see," Nikolai said. "I've exchanged most of your gold for cash, and it's been invested. In this briefcase, you'll find the investment portfolios and information on your bank accounts. There is a laptop, a sat phone, a temporary Estonian identification card - though you'll need to get a photograph soon - and credit cards. You are as established as a human would be."

Sebastian was seething. Nikolai was doing what he did best, which was whatever the hell he wanted. "You had no right."

"I'd hoped to assist you. You couldn't have been dealt with fairly for these riches. You and Conrad are wealthy men."

"You know where Conrad is?" He'd lost track of his brother after they'd left Blachmount as vampires. If Sebastian had rapidly gone out of his head with hunger and confusion, Conrad had fared much, much worse.

Nikolai's face fell. "No. I have searched for both of you. Have you seen him recently?"

After a hesitation, Sebastian shook his head. He hadn't seen Conrad since just weeks after their turning. That last day, Conrad had spoken cryptically of things he'd left undone as a mortal, tasks he could now complete as an immortal. At dusk, he'd disappeared and never returned. "What of Murdoch?" he asked, curious to know if he'd lived or died. How many brothers did he truly have?

"I can take you to him right now. He's at the Forbearer stronghold."

Sebastian cast him a black look. "A place I will never go - even if I had any inclination to see him."

Myst walked between them to break up the tense moment. "Why are you so angered over the past? Seems you'd be grateful to Nikolai. Without his actions, you'd never have your Bride."

I don't have her now. "I wonder if that might be a blessing." He took the case and traced away.

At the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, in a secluded villa on the beach, Kaderin lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling in misery.

She needed action, but she was forced to wait for the scrolls to update. Yes, action, or she needed sleep.

Normally, she required only about four hours in a twenty-four-hour period, and she could go for days without when pressed, but she wanted to be at one hundred percent after the Antarctica trip. She was sore from her climb - and descent - and soon she would really start to rack up the injuries.

Yet she couldn't fall asleep. Her T-shirt was too confining over her br**sts and driving her crazy. She loathed sleeping with anything over her torso, but tonight she had to prepare for the possibility of company. And even the fine bedclothes in this lavish rented residence were like burlap compared to her Pratesi sheets. Worse, the bedroom was large and echoing and dark. Too dark.

Though fearless in battle, the Valkyrie often had secret weaknesses. Lucia the Archer was terrified of missing her target, since she'd been cursed to feel indescribable pain every time she did. Nïx feared foreseeing the death of a Valkyrie so much that, to this day, she never had. Regin, always the first to run screaming a war cry into the fray, was afraid of... ghosts.

And Kaderin? When alone, she had once suffered from lygophobia, the fear of dark or gloomy places, even though she could see near perfectly in the dark.

By the way she was eyeing the bathroom light switch, she apparently had the fear once more. Yet another weakness from before the blessing, rearing its ugly head. She rose to flip on the light, then returned.

The sinister Valkyrie with the nightlight - that was her.

It was uncomfortably quiet here, just as it'd been at her London flat. She'd grown used to living in her coven at Val Hall, amid the reassuring shrieks of her half-sisters and the thunder rattling the manor. All night, Valkyrie pushed in and out of the groaning oak front doors.

She turned to her side in a huff, glaring at her regular bedmate - her sword. Another huff had her back to it. She was... lonely. She still hadn't shucked his loneliness from that morning in his wretched castle.

Why not just think about him? Allow herself to mull over the vampire and be done with it?

For instance, she could contemplate why he wanted to die. Had he lost a loved one? A woman? It made sense. He was in his thirties, and would likely have been wed. If Kaderin had lost a husband, she'd probably see the appeal of becoming a hermit. She might even consider dying if she thought she could rejoin the one she loved.

But if he'd been married, then why would he seem so oddly unsure about kissing her at first? Of course, it'd been a while for him, but there was something so hesitant in his demeanor.

Then he'd quickly gotten back in the saddle.

She'd found herself thinking sometimes about his consuming kisses, reliving them and that entire morning. Worse, whenever she thought about the details of what she'd done with him, she didn't feel only shame. She recalled riding his huge shaft, and an answering wetness came between her legs. Her br**sts grew swollen and achy. Her claws curled to clutch him to her.




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