Nightbred by Lynn Viehl Read Free Book Online

nodded, Chris said, “Then I’m going to be the first Lang.”
    For Chris, being a
tresora
wasn’t only about being with Jamys. For all their superpowers and immortality, most Darkyn held on to their medieval mind-set, and as a result often had trouble coping with the modern world’s demands. Chris intended to change that. All of the immortals had to stop living like
Lord of the Rings
extras and learn how to drive, operate computers, and use smart phones. The
tresori
—most of whom were trained in Europe—also had to stop worrying so much about protocols and instead pay more attention to practical matters like securing reliable alternative sources of blood, consolidating and improving the business fronts that concealed the
jardins’
existence, and developing more allies among the local businesses, government, and authorities.
    Once she was a
tresora
Chris would never again have an ordinary life, but she was willing to trade that to be with Jamys and help protect him and the rest of the Kyn. Someday in the future she might even earn her own spot on the
tresoran
council, where she would make decisions that would enhance and safeguard the Darkyn’s future.
    For now she’d be happy with simply being named a
tresora
, which had turned out to be much more complicated than she’d expected. Burke had helped her prepare her original petition for recognition, and sent it off to the
tresoran
council, which had sent back a long list of requirements Chris had to accomplish under Burke’s supervision before her petition would be considered. So for three years she’d studied and practiced and acquired the skills necessary to satisfy the padrones who ruled over all
tresori
. She hadn’t stopped until Burke had crossed off the last item on the list, and transmitted his final progress report on her to the council.
    Chris had never wanted, or worked so hard for, anything in her life. They
had
to say yes.
    There was only one thing she hadn’t told Burke, the council, or even Sam. As soon as she became a
tresora
, Chris had no intention of giving her oath of loyalty to Lucan. Instead she’d planned to offer her service to the only Darkyn she wanted to spend the rest of her life with: Jamys Durand.
    Naturally she wasn’t supposed to be in love with the Darkyn lord she wanted to serve, she thought as she absently fingered the shard of glass. Burke had explained it to her before he’d agreed to help her train.
You must understand what our masters desire from us: absolute loyalty, unshakable trustworthiness, and unwavering devotion to their protection and well-being. The Darkyn have great affection for mortals, and often form close relationships with their
tresori
, but our bodies are too frail and our existence too brief to make us suitable life companions. They cannot permit themselves to love us.
    So to them we’re like dogs,
she’d said.
Except we talk, take care of the house, and balance their checking accounts.
    Her analogy had startled a laugh out of Burke.
Something like that.
    Herbert Burke’s office lay tucked in the corner of the club, and once Chris made her way through the thinning crowd of patrons, she took out her key card to release the electronic lock and let herself inside.
    Although Lucan had a reputation for being arrogant and lofty, no doubt reinforced by the languid contempt with which he treated most people, the suzerain on his own handled a good deal of the
jardin
’s business concerns. Chris knew he had an active interest in the hundred or so businesses he had purchased since taking charge of Alenfar, and often came up with clever ways to make them more profitable.
    He also invested in the very latest in computer mainframes, which controlled satellite terminals stretching from Jupiter to the Keys and constantly monitored his various investments. Everyone who worked for him in the stronghold had been networked with the mainframe. It also served as the central command center for his stronghold, and his