“This is Liping. No one locks their doors.”
“Against burglars, no, they don’t. But you have a different sort of animal after you.”
“That would be you, then?” she asked sweetly.
His smile was filled with amusement. Even his eyes lit up with good cheer. “Alas, no. Not with your absent lover lurking in every thought you have and breath you take. I would like to go after him, though, and beat sense into him. It offends me that he would leave you vulnerable in this way.”
“You can’t,” she said quickly.
“I know.” He laid his hands flat on the edge of her desk. His fingers were long and slender, even though his hands were large and the wrists strong. Fine fingers, good for delicate work.
Deonne ripped her mind away from the path it was taking and focused it back onto the conversation. “I really do need to work,” she said, touching the pile of documents — actual paper documents — sitting next to her elbow.
“Permit me one question and then I will allow you to go back to work.”
“Allow?” she repeated.
He smiled. “My presence is not allowing you to work, no? If I remove myself, I will be allowing you to work.”
Deonne gripped her hands together tightly behind the desk. “Ask, then.”
He spread his fingers across the desk. “I have given much thought to you and your missing lover.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call him that,” Deonne muttered.
Daniel’s smile this time was broad and full of delight. “Then it is a man. I was right.”
Deonne grimaced at how stupid she was for slipping on something so obvious. She had to be more careful with what she was saying. She most definitely had to watch what she said to Daniel. He already knew or was divining far too much about her that was true. To give herself time to recover, she picked up her cup of green tea and sipped it slowly.
Daniel’s smile stayed in place. “I have thought a lot about you and your…what would you prefer I call him?”
“Call him what you want. It makes no difference to me.”
“He has a name. What harm is there in giving it to me?”
Deonne hesitated. Giving him Justin’s name would feel like she was giving in. It was a compromise she wasn’t ready to make. She lied instead. “Edward,” she told Daniel, giving Justin’s middle name. It had been his father’s name, the only thing of his father Justin’s mother had been able to give him. She also knew that Justin had used Edward as his travelling name, the very few times he had jumped back. “Good for all eras, most countries and most occasions,” Justin had explained. “While Justin wasn’t popular until Victorian times.”
Daniel nodded. “Edward. A fine name. Just as Dianne is a fine name.” He laughed again. He seemed to be enjoying himself enormously, even though he clearly knew she was lying.
“You have a question to ask,” she reminded him.
His smile faded. “I have lived for six hundred years and I have travelled to many places and met many people. I like stories, Dianne. I grew up listening to stories told around the fire, stories that came from far and wide. I no longer have a family to sit with around the fire, who will tell stories or listen to them. But I collect stories anyway. It is a remnant of my humanity and I like it.” He gave her a brief smile that didn’t touch his eyes. His gaze was locked on her face. “I heard a story, long ago, about vampires who can pass through time.”
Deonne breathed through her shock and dismay. She gave the same small shrug he had. “A story. So?”
He nodded. “I would have passed it off as entertainment, also. Except once I had heard about these time travelers, I could not stop hearing about them. You know how, once your mind has been attuned to notice a thing, you will see that thing everywhere you go?”
Deonne nodded, for she knew exactly what he meant.
His eyes were grave as he considered her. “I don’t think they were stories at all. I think they were rumors and whispers in the wind, of something that everyone, even vampires, knew was forbidden.”
“Forbidden?” Deonne questioned. “Why forbidden?”
Daniel placed his hands back on the desk again, flat for emphasis. “If such vampires exist and if they do move through time, then they are juggling with the very essence of our existence. I have studied physics in my time, among other things. Physicists have a deep and abiding respect for time and its effect on the universe. They know it is a force they cannot and should not interfere with. Yet these vampires who travel through time are doing exactly that.”
Deonne kept her best neutral expression in place, while her heart raced. Did he know, or was he fishing?
He sat back, relaxing, his hands resting on his knees and smiled at her. “I do not wish to trouble you with such fairy tales, but they speak to the heart of my question.” He didn’t move, but his gaze was anchoring hers, holding it captive. “Are you from the future? That is my question.”
Deonne had been braced for the question so she didn’t jump. “The future?” she repeated, injecting incredulity into her voice.
Daniel didn’t blink. “There was a man, long ago, who said ‘Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.’ I have spent all night stripping away the impossible. There are no other answers left that address everything that is odd, different and wrong about you.”
Deonne wanted to know what was odd and wrong, but asking would keep this very dangerous conversation going. So instead, she tried to shut it down. “Time travel is just what you said it was. A fairy story. I’m sorry, Daniel, but I really am very busy.” She pushed at the pile of paper next to her once again.
He didn’t move. “Your clothes are wrong,” he said flatly. “I have spent centuries learning how to blend in with humans and not be noticed as a stranger, so I have learned to take a great deal of time and effort over trivialities like clothing and accessories. Humans accept people who look exactly like them. It reassures them.”
Deonne realized she was smoothing down her trousers along her thigh and grasped her hands together to stop the telling reaction. She had dressed in twenty-third century clothing this morning. The trousers and shirt were very plain and close enough in cut and details to current fashions. No one had ever commented on her clothing when she had worn them before. Daniel was the first one to notice.
“You’re close enough to current styles, but the fabric is wrong. So are the fastenings, which…” He frowned, his gaze running over her shirt, all he could see from where he was sitting. “...I’ve never seen before,” he finished. “The buttons are false and I don’t recognize what lies beneath them, keeping the shirt closed.”
It was an anti-static fastener, but Deonne kept her teeth together and stared at him, trying to look bored.
“I just couldn’t think of a reason why any vampire would leave you, of all people, alone and unprotected. You would not be with a man so self-concerned he would abandon you. Ergo, any man you choose to keep company with would ensure that you were safe and would not leave your side unless he had no other choice.”
Daniel gave her a brief smile. “Your name has no history anywhere on the net. I searched last night. It is impossible these days to avoid leaving some sort of trace. That confirms your name is not your real identity.”
Deonne shifted on her chair. “You have asked your question. Why are you still here?”
“You didn’t answer it.”
“Yes I did. I said it was a fairy story.” She picked up her pen and pulled the bundle of papers that were on top of the pile over in front of her.
“Your Edward can’t be here because he’s somewhere in the future,” Daniel said.
Deonne sighed. Loudly. She kept her gaze on the paper in front of her, even though she was not focused on it.
“I don’t know why you’re here in this time,” Daniel continued, as if she hadn’t made a sound, “But your Edward remains in the future because for him to be here would be dangerous for
you. That is the only reason a man you would be with would stay away.”
“Perhaps I’m with a first class bastard who doesn’t give a damn?” Deonne suggested.
“That does not preclude him being from the future,” Daniel pointed out.
“Naturally, he would not be from the future. That is a physical impossibility.”
“Is it? The stories I heard spoke of vampires able to travel through time with nothing more powerful than their own minds.”
“Where did you hear this story, anyway?” Deonne demanded.
“A very old homeless man, on the outskirts of Los Angeles, was the first to tell me about vampires that time travel. He said he had met one.”
Deonne laughed. “And you believed him?”
Daniel smiled, too. “Not then, I did not. But now, I am on the verge of changing my mind because the evidence surrounding you points in no other direction.”
She sighed again, still smiling. “It’s a neat idea, Daniel. There’s a few things I would go back to do over if I had the choice. But it’s just an idea. Now…” She lifted the document in front of her. “If you don’t mind?”
“What is your real name?” Daniel asked. “You and I both know what each other is. You can share your name with me without danger. I refuse to call you Dianne.”
Deonne stared at him as a fear-filled idea struck her. Daniel was not his real name. Why hadn’t she considered this far sooner?
“Where did your mind just wander?” Daniel asked. “Your expression is almost alarming.”
She ignored him while she thought about his name. Daniel. James. With jerky, panic-filled movements, she reached for the keyboard and tapped out “Santiago” and ran a query. The first response was instantaneous and sat glowing on the screen, shouting at her.
Definition: Santiago.
Common Spanish surname, particularly amongst the Romani tribes. Originated as a rendering of Spanish patron saint, Saint James.
Deonne stared at the screen, her breath locked in her chest and her heart slamming against her chest and in her ears. She could hear the sound of her own breath whistling in and out.
Adán. Adániel.
Daniel was Adán Santiago.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she whispered.
“Dianne!” Daniel’s voice was strident and loud. She looked at him, realizing that he had spoken and she hadn’t heard a word.
Concern filled his eyes. He reached for her wrist and squeezed it. “What is wrong? What has happened? You look—”
“Don’t touch me!” she cried, pulling her arm from his grip. She stood up, stumbled over the chair and shoved it away. It tottered, as the legs caught on the tiling, then toppled over to crash sideways on the floor.
Daniel leapt to his feet. “You look like I have abruptly turned into a murderer.”
“You have,” she whispered. She raced for the door. “Stay away from me!”
She slammed the door on him and ran for her life.
* * * * *
Jerusalem, Israel, 2264 A.D.: The final sum the wardens had used to pay for Keiren’s silence was generous enough that he didn’t have to find a job right away. He didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to do for quite a while.
So instead of occupying his time with the challenge of finding a new profession, he drifted through days and nights, sometimes climbing onto the nets, or otherwise watching mindless entertainment on the battered and scratched monitor that came with the room.
On the fifth day, toward sunset, a manual knocking on his door announced a visitor.
Kieren lifted his head from the pillow, staring at the door. He had received no visitors and no one had come to the door for five days, except for the delivery company the wardens had used to ship his personal effects, which still sat in the shipping containers in the corner of the room where he had told them to drop them.
When the knock came a second time, harder than before, Kieren sat up and swiveled so his feet were on the floor. He stared at the door.
The only way he was going to resolve who could possibly be on the other side was to open the door. The door had no security monitors at all.
Kieren picked up his sidearm from the table and held it down at his side in the ready position. Then he carefully opened the door, using it to shield his chest and most of his body. He peered around the edge.
Cáel Stelios stood in the hallway, looking out of place in amongst the rubbish and graffiti, in his ten grand suit and coat. He was quite alone. He raised a brow. “You’re a hard man to find.”
“Jesus Christ,” Kieren swore. “Where is your security?”
“I fired them.” Stelios nodded toward the apartment. “Can I come in? I would feel safer being in the same room with you and that gun you’re holding.”
Kieren opened the door just wide enough for Stelios to walk through, then bolted it behind him. “You severed your contract with the wardens?” he asked. “I’m surprised they let you. They’re iron-bound, those contracts.”
“We came to agree that I no longer needed their services,” Stelios said, turning slowly to take in details around the room. “It was…mutually beneficial.” He stopped turning, facing Kieren, and removed his gloves.
“That’s how you found me,” Kieren guess. “You used the contract for leverage to pry it out of them.”
“With the best intentions, yes.” Stelios raised his brow again.
“Israel is half-a-globe away from Malacá, or even San Francisco. You’ve gone out of your way to find me. Why?”
“You left the Agency and the wardens very quickly. Right after the incident in Sweden.” Stelios’ expression told Kieren he knew exactly what had happened in Sweden, down to the last detail. That was most likely, given his relationship with Nayara and Ryan.
“You have a good grasp of the facts,” Kieren agreed. “But if you have gone to so much trouble to find me just to ask me to go back, then you don’t understand me or the situation.”
“I would sooner dump you in the fringes of Washington City buck naked than see you go back to that bunch of hypocrites,” Stelios said, with some heat.
Kieren let his surprise circulate through him so it would dissipate. “Then why are you here?”
“I want you to come back.”
“I just said—”
Stelios held up his hand. “Come back to the Agency. As their employee…or you can become a fully-fledged member if you want. We need you.”
“We? Don’t you represent the people of Greece?”
“I do,” Stelios agreed. “But you and I both know that I have a higher priority in my life, which remains hidden for now.”
Kieren disarmed and placed the gun on the table, giving himself time to think. “Why do you want me to join the Agency?”
“Because you are one of the best in your profession I have ever seen, and because what has happened to you may not have happened if you had been working a different contract.” Stelios shrugged. “We’ll never know, but that’s not the issue. You were working for me when this happened and I therefore have a small amount of responsibility.”
“No, you don’t,” Kieren replied firmly.
“I do not speak of financial or legal responsibility. The contract I had with the Wardens was a high-risk one. The wardens acknowledged the risk and absolved me in advance for injuries any Wardens received. The contract has been concluded with no debts remaining on either side. But I would be a poor human indeed if I didn’t feel any concern over what happened to you on our watch.”
“I don’t think what happened is something anyone could have predicted,” Kieren pointed out. The effort it took to say that aloud! He could feel sweat prickling down his spine.
Stelios sighed. “The Agency needs help with personal security. Now I’ve fired the Wardens, there is no one. I want you to fill the gap.” His gaze drilled into Keiren’s. “You need the Agency, too.”
Kieren clamped down on his internal reaction and kept his face neutral. “I
don’t need anyone.”
“You do now.” Stelios threw out a hand. “You have psi talents, Kieren. I know you want to deny that, but for the moment, let’s deal with the situation that puts you in.”
Kieren struggled to keep his face and body still. “I am not psi,” he said, as evenly as he could.
“I know that. Everyone at the agency who deals with psi every day…they all know that, too. But your Wardens did not like how it made you different and more powerful than them. At the agency, you would be just one of hundreds of people who are different. Some of them are quite strange. But all of them are accepted there, and their talents and expertise welcomed and used, in whatever way a person wants to help. That’s a set of conditions I don’t think exist anywhere else in the universe right now. Cristos, they accepted me and I’m just human.”
Kieren hadn’t considered that before. In the immediate aftermath of the affair in Sweden, no one had looked at him strangely or drawn away from him. Their biggest concern was Deonne’s safety. What he was had been a secondary question that they had put aside as unanswerable just then.
Then he recalled the acrimonious reaction of the Wardens and his gut tightened. He took a deep breath to offset it.
Stelios was watching him, reading the shifts of his expression and body language. He was a politician and exceptional at judging character. Kieren had seen him dealing with humans and vampires both, adjusting his responses and even the language he used to smooth his way.
Kieren grimaced. “Of course, you’re going to tell me exactly what I want to hear.”
“I would, if I was interested in political expediency,” Stelios replied. “My only agenda right now is ensuring that you are protected and that you have a future.”
“And again, I have to ask why.”
Stelios sighed. “I know about the others that came to speak to you. The ones that defeated your wardens without touching them.”
Kieren wondered where Stelios got his information. His sources were amazing. Then he realized. “You learned that from the same person who told you about my leaving the Wardens.”
Romani Armada (Beloved Bloody Time) Page 20