Warrior (Relentless #4)(104)

She joined me on the seats, and I was glad to see she was comfortable with me again. We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before she spoke.

“Can I ask you something? You know all about my life, but you never talk about yours. What was it like where you grew up? Where is your family now?”

Her sudden interest in my background filled me with pleasure. “I grew up in a military stronghold just outside Saint Petersburg. Miroslav Fortress is nothing like Westhorne. It’s surrounded by high stone walls and run more like a military base, although there were a number of families like mine there. My parents were advisors to the Council and very involved in planning military operations, so it was necessary for us to live there instead of in one of the family compounds.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It doesn’t sound like a fun place to live.”

I understood her reaction, knowing how much she loved her freedom and being outside. She found Westhorne, with its wide-open space and miles of forest, restrictive.

“It was actually a very good life, and we had a lot more luxuries and conveniences than most people had at the time. Back then, even the wealthy didn’t have running water, indoor plumbing, or indoor gas lighting, just to name a few.

“My parents were busy and travelled a lot, but they were very loving, and one of them always stayed home while the other travelled. They pushed me hard in my training and schoolwork, but I knew they were preparing me for the dangers I would face when I became a warrior.”

“So, you’re an only child?”

“Yes.”

She gave me a little grin. “Well, that explains a lot.”

I couldn’t hold a scowl. I loved seeing this side of her.

“Did you have many friends? What did you do for fun?” she asked.

“I had a few good friends over the years. Most families moved when the parents were transferred to other strongholds and others moved in. I don’t think I was ever lonely.”

I smiled as I thought back to those days. “I liked to watch the warriors train, and I spent a lot of time hanging around the training grounds. They all taught me how to fight and use weapons. By the time I started formal training, I was so advanced they had to place me with the senior trainees.”

“I bet your parents were very proud of you.”

“They were; they still are.”

She toyed with her ponytail, making me remember how her hair had framed her face last night when she’d worn it loose. My hands itched to reach over and free it from its binds, to run my fingers through the silky waves.

It took me a moment to realize she had asked me a question, something about why my family had left Russia.

“My sire was asked to assume leadership of a key military compound outside London when its leader was killed in a raid. We lived there for eight years before my parents were asked to help establish several new strongholds in North America. By then, I was a full warrior and I found the wildness of this continent appealing, so I tagged along.”

“Where are your parents now?”

“They went back to Russia about fifty years ago. My sire is the leader of Miroslav Fortress now. My mother was offered leadership of another stronghold, but she did not want to be separated from him. I see them at least once a year.”

She looked around the room then back at me. “So, um, what do you do for fun besides killing vampires and bossing people around?”

I studied her, wondering what had brought on this new curiosity about me. Not that I was complaining.

“Come on, you have to do something for fun,” she pressed. “Do you read? Watch TV? Knit?”

“I read sometimes.”

A fire lit in her eyes. “Me too. What do you like to read?”

“Anything by Hemmingway. Some Vonnegut, Scott.”

“My dad’s favorite Hemmingway book was The Old Man and the Sea,” she replied with a nostalgic smile. “What else do you like to do? For some reason I can’t see you sitting around watching TV.”

“Why not?” She was right, but I was curious about her impression of me.

She gave me an appraising look. “You could never sit back and watch the action. Plus, your sword would probably get snagged in the couch.”

I chuckled. “I don’t watch television or movies. I enjoy music, but not the music that is popular today. Dylan, the Who, the Stones – those are more my style.”

“The sixties, huh?” she said, surprising me. Her eyes widened, and she smirked. “If you tell me you went to Woodstock, I may have to rethink this badass warrior thing you have going on.”

I laughed at her description of me. “Actually, I was at Woodstock, along with Chris and about two dozen other warriors. Half the people there were either stoned or drunk, making it the ideal feeding ground for vampires and a few other demons. We were too busy to enjoy the music.”

Her eyes gleamed with amusement. “I can’t imagine you and Chris dressed in sixties clothes, especially what they wore at Woodstock.”

“They had leather jackets and jeans in the sixties. Although, Chris joked about becoming a hippie after that week.”

She huffed softly. “By the way, why didn’t you tell me Chris was my cousin? What if I’d started crushing on him like every other girl back home?”

The thought of her being attracted to any other male sent a ripple of jealousy through me, but I quashed it. I wasn’t going to let irrational emotions ruin this time with her.