Ben quickly muted the call. “Tenzin, I’m trying to get her to eat vegetables.”
“By lying to her?”
“Yes. It’s a solid strategy. Trust me.”
Tenzin reached over and unmuted the call. “Sadia, you do not have to eat vegetables to be a vampire, but you should eat them because they will make you healthy, and your health is important for future training.”
Sadia’s eyes were wide. “What training?”
Ben just sat back and watched them. This should be interesting.
“Swords mainly. The nutrients in vegetables like broccoli will be important for building lean muscle that will enable you to wield weapons more effectively. Your natural body type does not indicate a particularly muscular frame, so you will need to be deliberate in your diet and exercise regimen.”
Sadia’s eyes were the size of saucers. “Real swords?”
“Yes.”
Oh, he’d be hearing about this one from Giovanni and Beatrice, but what could he say? It was Tenzin. And honestly, she was probably right. Sadia would probably start learning the basics of sword handling by her early teens like Ben had.
Sadia’s face brightened. “I can eat broccoli.”
“Good.” Ben jumped in. “Just eat the broccoli. It’s good for you. Don’t tell Baba and Mama about the swords.”
“Okay!” She turned and yelled, “Dema, Tenzin is gonna teach me swords!”
Tenzin bit her lip to hide the smile. “Well, she didn’t tell Baba and Mama.”
Sadia turned back to the screen. “Okay bye. I love you, Tenzin.”
“I love you too.”
“Hey,” Ben protested, but the screen went dark. He turned to Tenzin. “Nice.”
“Don’t be jealous. You didn’t offer to teach her swords.”
He spread his notes on the table in the caravan. “I don’t have a board here, so we’ll have to make do.” He stood and taped a paper with Darius’s name on it to the cabinet on the far left. “Darius.”
“Old but not ancient earth vampire.” Tenzin stared at the name. “I’d say maybe fifteen hundred years old. Near East. He knows about the goblets and their significance. I don’t see a motivation for him to take the goblet though, even if he had opportunity. He’s not hungry for power. If he took it, it would only be for sentimental value, and that’s a dangerous play with Radu.”
“Okay.” Ben stuck another paper up. “Madina.”
“Very possible,” Tenzin said. “She’s been ruling Samarkand and the surrounding territory for nearly one hundred years, but Arosh became annoyed with her and now she’s out.”
“Out of what? Territory? Time? How much did she piss Arosh off?”
“Enough that she will want to lie low for a century or two. They’ve been lovers—of course, what female in Central Asia hasn’t slept with Arosh? —but he’s pretty angry with her for cutting one of his children out of a trade deal.”
“Have you?”
She looked confused. “Why would I get involved in a trade deal?”
“Have you had sex with Arosh?”
Tenzin raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to know?”
“Actually, no.” Ben turned back to the paper. “So Madina is kicked out of Samarkand and what? She’s now looking for new territory? A new job? The Poshani seem pretty insular. From what Radu said, they’re not going to follow a leader from outside the clan.”
“Of course Radu would say that because he wants to believe it. But if she had enough support and could make a good case, it’s not out of the question. She’s very rich, and they have many young people. Money matters.”
“And taking the goblet would help her case?”
“It’s a divine symbol of leadership. Of course it would.”
He marked Madina’s paper with a star. “Okay, so she’s the lead suspect so far.”
Tenzin leaned her chin on her fist and tapped her lower lip with a finger. “I’m so curious about Tatyana.”
Ben dragged his eyes away from her mouth. “Me too.” He taped a paper with Tatyana’s information to the cupboard.
“Why is she here?” Tenzin asked. “She’s younger than you are. Is she Radu’s pet? Purely a distraction?”
“I’ll try to get to know her a little tomorrow night.” He tapped her name. “Maybe play up the ‘fellow new vampire’ thing.”
“Good idea.”
Ben turned and realized Tenzin was staring at his ass. “Hey.”
She lifted her eyes. “Yes?”
“Uh… never mind. What do you know about Fynn?”
“Almost nothing. He seems generally evil, but I don’t know anything about him. You might ask Carwyn and Brigid. They’re more knowledgeable about immortal politics in South America.”
“I will.” He put up a paper with Fynn’s name and a large question mark. “And finally…” He wrote Tenzin on a piece of paper and stuck it to the wall. “There’s you.”
“Are you serious?” She sat up straight and smiled. “You’re really going to investigate me?”
Ben sat at the table and started taking notes. “Known thief.”
“Accomplished thief.” She leaned over the paper. “Make sure you write that. ‘Known, accomplished thief.’”
“Noted.” He kept writing. “Multiple connections to human and immortal criminal networks. Military experience. No known ambitions to rule, but she does enjoy causing general chaos and breaking things.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“For reference, see Naples and Puerto Rico.”
“Those were both more convenient timing than intentional chaos.”
“Political alliances are… disparate.”
“That’s one way of putting it. Or you could just write the truth: I have none.”
“Bullshit.” He looked up. “You’re loyal to your father. You don’t want to be, but you are. You’re loyal to Giovanni.” You used to be loyal to me.
She stared at him long enough that Ben wondered if she’d managed to master mind reading.
Finally she shrugged. “Giovanni doesn’t have any political ambitions.”
“You’re loyal to Cormac O’Brien. I know you’ve done him favors over the years and he’s done them for you. For most people, a favor is just a favor, but not for you.”
“Cormac is the vampire in charge of the city where I currently reside. If I didn’t like him, I’d find someone to replace him. But I do like him, so I can do him favors every now and then. It’s not political.”
“No, you’re right, it’s personal.” He set down his pen. “Subject has no political ambitions, but she enjoys playing God with people she claims to care about.”
That pissed her off. He could tell by the minute tightening of Tenzin’s jaw.
“Everyone plays God with people they love,” she said evenly. “You lie to Sadia about vegetables and call it love.”
“Did you just compare a white lie about vegetables with all the lies you’ve told me over the years?” Ben blinked. “They’re not even in the same neighborhood.”
“Wrong.” She leaned her elbows on the table, mirroring his stance. “It is exactly the same thing.”
“So you took me to your father and overruled my wishes to remain human because you knew it was good for me?”
“No, Ben, because I know you.” Her cool facade cracked, just a little. “You keep lying to yourself, but this was always where you were heading. You lived among us, demanding to be seen as an equal. And for the most part, you succeeded, but the first time you lost a step, the first time your knees started to ache in the morning, the first time you felt your body breaking down, you would have turned to your uncle” —she snapped her fingers— “and made the same choice I had to make for you that night.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I would have. But you didn’t have to make any choice that night, Tenzin. You could have saved my life if you’d taken me to a hospital, and you know it.”
“So I should have left you with the humans?” He
r fangs fell. “You think I should have watched them cut you up and piece you together like a patchwork garment?” She snarled. “Hoped and prayed they didn’t fumble with your life? Human healers are butchers. I knew Zhang could save you. Anything less was an unacceptable risk.”
He gripped the edge of the table to keep from striking out. “What did you give him to save me?”
“He owed me.”
“You gave him something. What was it?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does!” He rose, cracking the table as he stood.
Her expression was unreadable. “Why do you care if you’re so angry with me, Benjamin? Why does it matter what I gave him?”
“Because…” Because he didn’t need another debt in his life. He didn’t need another person he loved sacrificing important things to save his dumb life. “It just matters, Tenzin.”
“You’re right,” Tenzin said softly. “It matters because you’re alive.” Tenzin rose and floated toward him until they were eye to eye. She put a warm hand on his cheek and traced the arch of his eyebrow with a single finger. “You are alive.”
She repeated it like a mantra.
“You live, Benjamin Vecchio, and you owe your life to no one. Not me. Not Zhang. You will live however you see fit. You will protect those who matter to you and follow only the commands of your conscience.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “You will go where you want and you will love who you will, so be angry with me for as long as you want. I know I did the right thing.”
Ben felt his heart break open, because he saw the history of Tenzin’s life through her wishes for his.
She had owed her life and loyalty to Zhang.
She had lived at the will of the powerful.
She had protected the unworthy and been bound to the command of others.
Ben couldn’t deny what he felt for her even if he didn’t know what to do with it.
He loved her. He’d never stopped.
Ben tossed a tennis ball in the air and caught it, over and over like a baseball. “Patterns,” he muttered as he examined the names on the cupboard.
Brigid was on speakerphone. “What?”
“Patterns. We fall back into them, whether we want to or not.”
“Are you talking about you or Tenzin?”
“I don’t know yet.” He stared at Tenzin’s name. “Maybe both.”
“What happened?”
“I’m dangerously close to understanding her point of view.”
“That is dangerous.”
Ben tossed the tennis ball and caught it again. “Is that vampire morality taking over? Am I going to become one of those monsters who justify anything if it gives me what I want?”
“Do you even know what you want?”
“Probably not.” No, that wasn’t right.
He wanted Tenzin. He wanted to grab her, drag her to his trailer, take her blood, and bind her to him so thoroughly that when he breathed in, she breathed out.
“I do know what I want,” he said. “I just don’t know if what I want is good for me.”
25
Tenzin was waiting outside his door at dusk.
Ben buttoned his pants and rubbed a hand through messy hair as he descended the steps. “Are you saying you actually can’t break into these things?”
She nodded toward the two guards standing a short distance from his trailer. “Not without bloodshed, and that’s one of my New Year’s resolutions.”
“Not killing people?”
“Not killing people unless I have a reason for it that you could justify.”
Ben stopped in his tracks. “Wait. That I could justify?”
“Yes.” She floated toward him. “I like being in a place where I don’t have to hide.” She slowly flipped in the air. “It’s lovely here, don’t you think? Maybe this is how all vampires should live.”
“Yeah, it’s nice.” He glanced at the bonfire, newly lit in the forest clearing. The music was already going—a trio of guitarists were playing a mellow tune near the outdoor kitchen. “Why am I the person who decides if you should kill someone or not? I don’t want that responsibility.”
“I’m not going to call you or anything.” She looked irritated. “I am simply pausing and asking, ‘Would Ben kill this person in these circumstances?’ The answer is usually quite clear.”
“Right.” Ben found that incredibly disturbing. He’d become the unwilling leash on Tenzin’s homicidal tendencies, and he didn’t even know where she was most of the time.
“It’s a good system for the most part, but you can be a little too forgiving at times.” She paused. “Not with me, of course. With other people.”
“So we’re talking about forgiveness now?” This felt like a continuation of their argument last night. “Why should I forgive you when you haven’t asked for forgiveness?”
She smiled. “It’s an interesting quandary, isn’t it?”
“It’s a genuine question.” He stopped walking. “Are you sorry for what you did?”
She looked away, then looked back. “What do you think?”
“No.”
“Correct. To be sorry for what I did would mean that I regret that you’re alive, and I will never regret that you’re alive and being a brother to Sadia and a friend to Gavin and a son to Giovanni and Beatrice.”
“I could have been all those things as a human if you hadn’t dragged me to Penglai in the first place.”
“You could have also had all those things as a human if you’d listened to me and not trusted Johari.”
Damn it. He couldn’t argue with that.
He’d beat himself up a thousand times in his own mind, asking why he hadn’t seen the clues or paid attention to Tenzin’s advice. “Well, at least Johari and Saba didn’t manage to throw Zhang and Arosh into another war by stealing the sword.”
“Yes.” Tenzin looked away. “Have you seen Tatyana yet tonight?”
Something pricked at his instincts, but he was tired of self-examination. Confronting Tenzin was exhausting. Once you forced yourself inside her head, she made a frightening amount of sense.
Which just… messed with his mind.
“Radu says Tatyana’s been hanging out near the human cooks.”
“Really?” Tenzin landed on the ground and turned toward the outdoor kitchen. “Wait.” She stopped.
“What?”
Tenzin dropped her voice. “You were going to investigate her using camaraderie.”
“It’s not that mercenary,” Ben said. “I just want to get to know her. She seems like the odd one out in all this.”
“I agree. You should befriend her so she will trust you.”
“Do you have to put it that way?”
“Yes.” She glanced up at Ben. “Someone has to keep you honest.”
“And apparently someone has to keep you from stabbing.” He nudged her toward the tables where blood-wine was already being poured. “Go. I’ll join you later.”
“I smell René.”
Ben stopped and turned. “Just so we’re clear, if you are ever deliberating about killing René DuPont, the answer will always be yes.”
“Why would I need to kill René? He’s harmless.”
“He’s annoying.”
Tenzin shook her head slowly. “You can’t just kill people because they’re annoying, Benjamin.”
“Not people.” He started walking again. “Just René.”
Tatyana might have looked like a lamb in the woods, but she was by far the most openly suspicious vampire he’d ever met.
Her sky-blue eyes narrowed. “Did Oleg send you?”
Ben frowned. “All I said was ‘hello, I’m Ben. I heard you’re from Russia.’”
“You didn’t answer the question.” She was stirring a large pot hung over an open fire. The fire didn’t seem to disturb her.
“Okay.” He spotted the sheen of moisture on the back of her hand. Ah, that’s why she wasn’t afraid of the fire. She was a water
vampire. Interesting. “Oleg did not send me.”
“Good.”
The scent of peppers and garlic filled the air, and Tatyana continued to ignore him, speaking to the women in the kitchen with a clearly fluid grasp of the dialect they spoke.
“You’re very good at languages,” Ben said. “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
“Poshani?”
“Yes.”
Tatyana glanced up. “You’re probably trying to fit it into a Romantic or Slavic paradigm,” she said. “Which would be your mistake. The Poshani language is primarily North Indian with opportunistic borrowing from Hungarian, Turkish, and Farsi.”
Ben grinned. “You’re a language nerd.” His aunt would approve. “How did you get to be a vampire?”
She was clearly confused by his enthusiasm. “None of your business. Do all Americans smile so much?”
“Probably.” He held a hand out. “Can I help?”
She looked at the spoon stirring the deep red stew. “You’re a wind vampire?”
“I am.”
“Then cool the stew. It’s getting a little hot.”
Easy enough. Ben channeled a swirl of air over the pot, but it splashed on one of the women’s dresses.
“Stop.” Tatyana waved a hand. “Just stop.”
She might have been as young as Ben was, but she was surprisingly good about concealing her power. He got nothing from her other than the urge to back up and give her space. She was definitely putting out “don’t touch” vibes.
“So if you don’t want to talk about yourself—”
“I don’t.” She glanced at him. “I know who you are. You didn’t need to introduce yourself. Everyone knows who you are.”
Ben leaned on the trailer behind him. “That’s so annoying.”
She waved. “Your profile isn’t exactly low, Benjamin Vecchio, son of Giovanni Vecchio, immortal son of Zhang Guo, mate of Tenzin—”
“Wait, what?” His stomach dropped.
Tatyana raised an eyebrow. “She is not your mate?”
Shit, how did he answer that question? “It’s complicated.”
Tatyana grimaced, and Ben knew she wasn’t a stranger to complicated relationships.
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