“Almost. I’m going to visit Edward Dante.”
She frowned and laid down her brush. “Edward Dante? Not Grayson?”
“Not Grayson,” he agreed, wandering toward the window. “It’s time to consider what will happen to the Dante wealth when Grayson dies.”
She should have been prepared for disappointment, but she wasn’t. It felt like a pain corroding her stomach. “ ‘The way to power in this age is wealth,’ ” she quoted bitterly. “You don’t really give a damn about Dante’s threat to the world, do you? Was any of that even true?”
“Every word,” he said mildly. The curtain moved, apparently of its own volition, blocking the sunlight, which had threatened to move directly on to him. “But the money won’t go away. I can make excellent use of it.”
Oh, God, oh, fuck, why did I agree to come with him? “What are you planning to do with Edward Dante?” she said hoarsely, dragging her gaze away from the self-closing curtain.
Saloman turned from the window and met her gaze. His eyes were black as coal. “Sup on him slowly. Like a gourmet meal.”
She sprang to her feet, to do or say what, she wasn’t sure, and before she could decide, he was already speaking again.
“Or I could just talk to him. You can come, if you like, and see.”
She stared at him, and slowly convinced herself to relax. She could almost imagine she’d hurt his feelings. At any rate, she discounted the “supping” jibe. He was dressed, she imagined, as Adam Simon, and was going to conduct business rather than death. There was relief there, and yet the tiny incident served to remind her all over again how irreconcilably different were their points of view.
She turned away. “I don’t want to see. Do you really imagine the accumulation of money will bring you power?”
“It worked for Dante.”
“Along with family connections that stretch back generations. Dante is pure American establishment. You are anything but.” She drew in her breath. “You despise Dante. Can’t you see that you’re actually just like him?”
His long black lashes swept down over his pale cheek and lifted to reveal his dark, mocking eyes once more. He walked toward her with such deliberation that it took every ounce of self-control not to panic and bolt. He came right up to her, so close that his jacket brushed the swell of her breasts. Her breath caught as he bent his head, but his lips didn’t touch hers, not quite. There was no warmth, no breath to stir her skin, and yet she was aware of every movement of his mouth almost gliding across her jaw to her neck, and up to her ear.
“No,” he whispered. “I’m not.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, as terrified by her own upsurge of fierce, desperate lust as by the knowledge of his anger. Had she ever angered him before? Weird triumph warred with fear and regret.
Nothing happened. When she opened her eyes, he was already across the room. “Don’t go out,” he advised. And the next instant he was gone. She didn’t even hear the door close.
Elizabeth let her breath out in a rush and grasped at her throat as if for comfort. Part of her wanted to laugh; the rest was far too angry with him, both for pursuing wealth and power—just like Dante, whatever he said—and, more trivial, for daring to tell her not to go out. Stuff that.
Marching across to her bag, she rummaged until she found the scrap of paper inscribed with Rudolph Meyer’s New York address.
Chapter Nine
Driving through her home country of Romania for the second time in a week, Mihaela found it difficult to appreciate the scenery. They were going to talk to a couple of tourists who’d been asking questions about vampires, in order to find out how serious their interest was. Such tourists not only put themselves in danger by drawing the attention of vampires, but they upset the precarious balance that kept vampires secret from the mass of the population. Although Mihaela understood the importance of the task, her thoughts lingered on the similarity between this mission and the one that had first led them to Elizabeth. When they’d set out from Budapest then, Elizabeth Silk had just been a researcher; by the time they’d caught up with her, she’d become the Awakener and didn’t even know it.
And now, having awakened Saloman, it seemed she could be the one destined to destroy him. Certainly, she’d been willing enough to go to America and “smite” Saloman’s friends.
“We shouldn’t have let her do it,” Mihaela said abruptly from the backseat.
Neither of the men pretended to misunderstand her. “Couldn’t stop her, once we’d brought the subject up,” István pointed out.
“Why did we bring the subject up? We’re using her to do our job!”
“She’s helping us do our job,” Konrad corrected. “She volunteered, and it’s our duty to use every available opportunity. She knows the score.”
“We’ve sent her into the same country as Saloman, into the middle of a vampire war, with a mission we’d struggle with.”
“If the Severin thing is too dangerous, she knows to back off. Just contacting the descendant Rudolph Meyer will be a big help now that Saloman’s in the States. Besides,” Konrad added comfortably, “if things get rough she can call the American hunters.”
Mihaela leaned forward between the front seats. “Why don’t we tell them she’s there already?” she suggested.
“Because then she won’t be able to kill Severin.”
Mihaela sat back and eyed the back of his head with hostility. “Do you know what I hate about you, Konrad? Your pragmatism.”
“It keeps us alive and makes us the most successful hunter team in the world.”
Mihaela gave a short, humorless laugh. “Let’s hope it keeps Elizabeth alive too.”
Rudolph Meyer’s apartment was in an old, run-down building. The elevator was out of order, so Elizabeth took the vandalized stairs to the second floor and, along a short, bare corridor, discovered the door with Meyer scrawled in black crayon on a piece of card and stuck over the previous nameplate with tape.
Music came from inside the apartment, so at least he was in. Elizabeth rang the bell and, after waiting several moments without any response, knocked loudly. After another half minute, she rang and knocked again.
Oh, God, has Saloman been here already?
Protecting Josh, had she condemned the unknown Rudolph as the only one still available to him?
But no, she was sure she could hear voices over the music. A man’s and a woman’s. Crouching down, she put her eye to the old-fashioned keyhole, just as the door flew open.
“Ah,” said Elizabeth. It hadn’t been part of her plan to antagonize the descendant by so obviously spying on him. A white man with iron gray hair, aged somewhere between forty and fifty, stared at her. So did the young woman beside him, a black girl still in her twenties, dressed in the same well-worn type of combat gear as the man who was, presumably, Rudolph Meyer.
“Who the hell are you?” he said, pushing past her as she sprang to her feet. He turned to slam and lock the door.
“I’m Elizabeth Silk,” she said numbly.
The girl barged past too, and the pair strode off toward the stairs. With some amazement, Elizabeth realized they were just going to ignore her and leave.
“I’m looking for Rudolph Meyer,” she said, hurrying after them.
“You’ve found him,” the man flung over his shoulder. He and the girl both wore well-stuffed backpacks, and their pockets looked bulky as their jackets swung around their hips.
“Could I talk to you for a moment?” Elizabeth asked, keeping up as they ran downstairs.
“Busy,” said Rudolph Meyer.
“Then could I come back later?”
“No. I’ll still be busy.”
“Mr. Meyer, this is important!”
“So is this,” he said with odd grimness, and beside him, the girl laughed.
Emerging into the street, they marched straight to a beat-up old pickup truck. Clearly, they were going to climb in and drive away without hearing a word she had to say. It was as frustra
ting as dealing with the hotel receptionist in Edinburgh.
Lunging forward, Elizabeth inserted herself between Meyer and the driver’s door.
“Mr. Meyer, you have to listen to me,” she announced, as impressively as she could. “Vampires exist, and you are in extreme danger.”
She knew the risk. She was prepared for a verbal string of abusive ridicule, poised to avoid a fist or even a knife, to surrender at once to any gun threat. What she didn’t expect was the mocking grin that broke onto Meyer’s face.
“No shit, Mrs. Sherlock,” he said. It took Elizabeth a baffled moment to realize he was holding open one of his jacket pockets.
Slowly, she lowered her gaze, ready to back off as soon as she saw whatever weapon he was warning her with.
He had a pocketful of short, sharpened wooden stakes.
Minutes later, Elizabeth found herself squashed in the front seat of the truck between the girl and the door—mainly because she’d jumped in when no one forbade her—bumping over city streets.
Leaning forward to see past the girl to Rudolph, Elizabeth said, “So you already know you’re the descendant of a vampire killer?”
“Got attacked by a vamp two years ago—right outside my apartment. If it hadn’t been for Cyn, here, passing at the right moment, I’d have been a goner. She stabbed it with the wooden point of her umbrella and it turned to dust. We’ve been hunting the damned creatures ever since. Then, a few months ago, I started getting calls telling me I was descended from someone who killed a bigwig vampire, and now this vampire was awakened again, so I should look out. Ignored them, but figured it could be the reason this vampire picked on me in the first place.”
“You would have the scent of a strong kill,” Elizabeth agreed. She glanced at the girl, Cyn. “How did you know how to kill the vampire?”
Cyn’s large, curiously hard brown eyes met her gaze. “I guessed. I’d seen them before, knew what they were, though people called me crazy if I mentioned it. That’s why I had that particular umbrella, and that’s why I sharpened it.”
“Wow . . .” For a moment longer, Elizabeth regarded her with open admiration, before she asked, “Do the American vampire hunters know about you?”
Rudolph and Cyn both grinned. “We are the vampire hunters,” Rudolph said with a hint of pride.
Elizabeth elected to leave that discussion for later, opting instead for the more immediate point. “Is that where you’re headed now? Vampire hunting? In broad daylight?”
“Best time,” Rudolph said. “They’re holed up and resting. We found a whole nest of them last night. Should be able to clear out the lot before noon.”
Elizabeth blinked, taking that in. “Need any help?” she offered.
Rudolph and Cyn exchanged glances. Rudolph said, “No offense, lady, but if you can’t fight, you’re more hindrance than help. The chances of them all being asleep are remote.”
“I can fight a little,” Elizabeth said humbly.
“Against vampires?” Cyn demanded, already unbuckling her seat belt as Rudolph brought the truck to a screeching halt outside a disused office block with boarded-up windows and posters bearing the name of some construction company.
“Mainly,” Elizabeth said ruefully. “You should know that I’m the one who awakened this Ancient vampire there’s all the fuss about. Also, he’s here in New York and he’s stronger, much stronger than anything you’ve yet had to face.”
Rudolph had already jumped down, but he turned now to stare at her through the open door. “You think our nest includes him?”
“No, I don’t.” Not unless he’s visiting at the wrong moment. “But you’d better be prepared.”
Rudolph gave a brisk nod and turned away.
“You’re in,” Cyn said dryly. “If you can stand it.”
Rudolph led the way swiftly around the back, and through a window board he’d apparently loosened the previous evening. Elizabeth followed, jumping lightly to the dirty floor, and drew her stake as she ran with them to the stairs.
On the second floor, they paused, pressing themselves against the wall and indicating the door on the left. Its window was boarded too, so Elizabeth couldn’t see inside. In the silence, she could hear only the beat of her own heart. Her companions’ chests rose and fell rapidly, but they made no sound. Nor did anyone on the other side of the door, or anywhere else in the building.
Cyn was frowning. Slowly, Elizabeth drew nearer to the door, sure, somehow, that nothing and no one lurked on the other side.
“They’ve gone,” Cyn said flatly, and Elizabeth gave her another curious glance. When you came in frequent contact with vampires, you got a sense of them. Like Elizabeth, Cyn clearly hadn’t felt any prickles that warned of danger.
Undeterred, a stake in each hand, Rudolph burst through the door.
The big office was empty. No partitions, no furniture or equipment beyond a couple of wires lying loose on the floor. And definitely no vampires.
And yet, as Elizabeth touched the door handle, a frisson stirred her spine. She believed Rudolph and Cyn had tracked vampires here. She imagined she felt some distant echo of their presence.
“Who were these vampires?” she asked. “Do you know?”
“We think they were involved in the big street fights the other night,” Cyn said, touching the wall with the tips of her fingers and running them along as she walked forward. “Incomers, challenging for territory.”
Or for Saloman’s favor. “From Los Angeles?” she said aloud. “Severin?”
“We’re not on first-name terms,” Rudolph said, kicking the wall with frustration. “Damn!”
“I don’t think they’ve been gone long, Rudy,” Cyn said, eyes closed. “Maybe as little as an hour.”
“Can you sense that?” Elizabeth asked her, fascinated.
Cyn looked at her. “Yes. And so could you, if you tried.”
Elizabeth took a step nearer her. “Cyn, are you a descendant too?”
The girl shrugged. “Not to my knowledge. I just feel things, you know?”
A genuine human psychic? Elizabeth couldn’t discount it, but intriguing as it was, she couldn’t afford the digression.
“I’m looking for these vampires too. Particularly Severin, if he’s with them.”
“We’ll be damned lucky to catch up with them again,” Rudolph said bitterly. “The homegrown vamps will chase them out.”
“Maybe not. I think they’re hanging around to meet Saloman. The Ancient.” Unless they’d met him and were already leaving? Her first mission accomplished, however unnecessary it had turned out to be, she was going to have to move fast if she was to have any chance of achieving the second. “Where would I go to meet vampires in New York?” she asked abruptly, hoping for some equivalent of the Angel club in Budapest.
“Central Park after dark,” Cyn said. “If you don’t value your life.” She began to walk back toward the door. “Want a lift?”
Although Josh welcomed her when the elevator opened directly into his apartment, he looked uncharacteristically flustered. He wore a short leather jacket over a T-shirt and designer jeans, and sunglasses dangled from his fingers.
“Elizabeth,” he said, giving her a distracted kiss on the cheek. “How did you get here?”
“In a pickup truck and one of your famous yellow taxis.”
His smile looked automatic. “I mean, what brings you to New York? I had no idea you were coming.”
“It was a sudden decision. But I think I’ve picked a bad time to call around. Again. I should have phoned first. You look as if you’re going out.”
“Well, I was.” A slightly sheepish grin curved his lips. “To be honest, I’m still chasing the stolen sword.”
“Really?” Elizabeth, who’d been casting quick glances around his ultramodern and spacious apartment, brought her gaze back to his. “And you’ve found something out?”
“Not really.” He shifted his feet and then, as if he’d caught himself shuffling, stood still. El
izabeth merely continued to hold his gaze until he let out a breath of laughter. “Damn it, don’t look at me like that! If you must know, I hired a private detective to watch Dante, find out who visited him, if anyone left with a large, swordlike bundle, that sort of thing. Also, to follow him, see where he goes, because he’s got no official engagements left in New York that I know of.”
Josh swung the sunglasses between his fingers. “I just heard he’s gone to this club in Queens.”
“Is that bad?” Elizabeth asked, baffled.
“Well, it’s a gambling club,” Josh said uncomfortably. “Strictly illegal. And this is Dante’s second visit in two days.”
Elizabeth frowned. “But he has a reputation as Mr. Squeaky Clean Christian. Why would he go to a place like that?”
“Either because he has a secret gambling addiction, or because he’s meeting someone unsavory there. Probably to reclaim my sword. I was on my way to find out.”
“I’ll come with you,” Elizabeth decided, swinging back around to face the elevator doors.
Josh rubbed the back of his neck doubtfully. “Not sure you should. It’s not the most salubrious venue in the city.”
“Then how come you know of it?”
“Everyone knows of it. Well, everyone who’s rich enough.” The elevator doors slid open and Elizabeth stepped inside, Josh at her heels. “It’s become the haunt of the rich and reckless, rock stars and rich kids who want to be bad, celebrities who like a bit of risk with their fun. I went once and never went back. It’s hardly Dante’s scene.”
“You have a point,” Elizabeth said eagerly as the elevator came to a smooth halt. “But it’s only midday. Will we be able to get in?”
“If he can, we can,” Josh said, stepping out into the reception area and shoving on the stylish sunglasses.
“And blend in?” she asked more doubtfully.
“Right now, I don’t care about that. Elizabeth, are you sure you want to do this? It could easily lead to police trouble. Although,” he added thoughtfully, “the police must know about the place and turn a blind eye, for whatever reason.”
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