Chapter Twenty
In the few short minutes it took Claire and Tess to reach the Order's weapons room, Andreas was no longer there. Tegan and Rio were standing near the firing range with Gideon, reviewing a cache of ammunition and firearms laid out on a table near a large cabinet filled with more of the same. Tegan looked up as Tess led Claire into the room. "Have you seen Andreas?" Claire asked the formidable Gen One male. He nodded gravely. "I've seen him. And I sure as hell wouldn't recommend it. At least not for a few more hours. He's not exactly fit for company." "I need to talk to him, Tegan. It's important." When the warrior looked like he was going to shut her down flat, Tess chimed in. "I was swimming with Mira at the pool. She didn't have her lenses in, and... Claire saw something." "Ah, f**k." Tegan wasn't the only vampire in the room to mutter a dark curse. He ran a hand over his jaw, then followed it through with a gesture toward the corridor outside. "His quarters are up that hallway. Fifth door after the first turn." Claire nodded her thanks to both Tess and Tegan, then pivoted around and hurried out to the corridor. She found the curve in the marbled walkway and glanced ahead to count the closed doors as she walked quickly toward the fifth one. Before she even reached the halfway point, she felt the fine hairs at the back of her neck begin to stir. The sensation traveled her skin like a low-current electrical charge. She would know the feeling anywhere. Andreas. She paused in front of an arched open entryway on her right. The chamber was dark, lit only by the flicker of a single pillar candle deep inside the room. It was a sanctuary of some sort. A chapel, with carved stone walls and twin rows of benches that faced a simple, unadorned pedestal altar. Andreas was on his knees before that altar, his dark head bowed low. Tiny pulses of light skated all over his body.
It wasn't the full-scale heat and fire that she'd witnessed before, but a smaller kind of energy. Less volatile by far, but yet strong enough to make her limbs and neck prickle in reaction. As she watched, the pulses began to slow and lessen in strength. Before long, they had faded completely. Andreas was so still and meditative, Claire was loath to disturb him. Too late, however. He swiveled his head and opened his eyes, piercing her with a blast of amber that swamped his irises. "You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice deadly low and thickened by the presence of his fangs. "Go, Claire. I don't want you to see me like this."
She didn't have to ask him what he meant by that because even though his body was released from the hold of his pyrokinesis, misery was pouring off him in palpable waves. He was caught in the grip of a deep blood thirst. His extended fangs and transformed eyes were evidence enough of that, but it was his dermaglyphs that truly gave him away. The skin markings that were visible from within the open front of his shirt were livid with the colors of hunger. Claire drifted farther into the chapel sanctuary. "Are you all right?" He growled, animalistic and threatening, as she neared him. Claire thought he might stand up and draw away from her, but he remained on his knees as she moved to the bench nearest him and slowly sat down. The vision she'd seen in Mira's eyes was still very much on her mind, but as she looked at Andreas, her worry for him was more immediate. She wanted to reach out to him, to brush the tangle of his rain-tousled hair out of his face, but she held her hands close, uncertain whether he would welcome her kindness after the way things had been left between them in Newport. "Where did you go tonight, Andre?" "You mean Tegan didn't tell you how he had to peel me off a human before I drained the poor bastard? He didn't tell you that it took the press of cold steel against my temple and the threat of a bullet in my skull to bring me to my senses?" Claire swallowed. "No. I didn't know any of that." At her denial, he glanced away from her, shaking his head as he stared into the wobbling flame of the crimson altar candle. "Unless you have a pistol concealed on your person somewhere, I'd advise you to turn around and get the hell away from me while you can."
She heard the danger in his oddly restrained tone, but she stayed right where she was. "I'm here because I was concerned about you tonight. And because something happened a short while ago that terrified me." He swung a hard look at her, his brows lowered over the bright amber intensity of his gaze. "What happened? Does it have something to do with Roth? Did he do something to hurt you again?" "Nothing like that, no. But I saw something that I'm certain pertains to him." At his questioning scowl, she went on. "There is a child here in the compound with the gift of premonition--" "Mira," he said, having been told of the girl by the warriors. "Yes, Mira. I saw something terrible in her eyes just a few minutes ago. I saw your death, Andreas." Claire exhaled softly and closed her eyes for a moment, pained just to say the words.
"I saw a pit of fire and rubble, and you were inside it. I tried to save you, but I couldn't reach you in time. And the fire was so hot..." He cursed softly and stood up. His dark expression said he was ready to deny what he was hearing, but Claire cut him off before he had a chance to speak. "I felt your death, Andre. I was there, in the vision. It was real. If you don't let go of this need to destroy Wilhelm Roth, I believe you're going to die." He listened, his jaw set in what seemed to be a grim acceptance. As if he'd known for a while that his death would come amid flames and ruin, but saw no need to run from it. "My God," she said, furious that she was only just understanding now. "Every time you let the fires rise within you, you're staring your own death full in the face. You know that, don't you? You've known it all along, and yet you continue to use the very power that can only destroy you in the end." He listened unfazed, his expression unreadable and infuriatingly unemotional. "I'm not afraid to die, Claire." "No," she said, forcing the word past her tongue on a miserable laugh. "You're not afraid of it, Andre. I see that now, finally. You're running toward it as fast as you can. Am I that easy to walk away from? I must be, since you keep doing it." "What would you have me do?" he murmured. "Give up your revenge on Wilhelm Roth, here and now. Let the Order take him down when they go after Dragos, but not you. I want you to stay away from him. Can't you do that... for me?" His hand came up tenderly, his fingers curving around the quivering line of her jaw. "You're asking me to turn my back on those who've been willing to risk their lives for me in the past. You're asking me to forget everything Roth has done to me and my kin-- what he has done to numerous innocent lives. You're asking me to look the other way on a criminal who would not hesitate to take his fury out on you, Claire."