"Of course, not. This is a matter between the two vampire lords. Raphael will be calling Jabril this evening."
"What about this witness?"
"What about him?"
"Can Jabril himself—"
"Indeed not. Council members may travel within each other's territory only by express permission, which permission is rarely given except for the annual meeting of the full Vampire Council which rotates among the members."
"So who will the witness be?"
"I don't know."
"Not Asim."
"Ah, that's right, you've met Asim. Charming man. No, it will not be Asim. Raphael would never accept him. No, it will be someone minor, someone Jabril won't mind losing if he steps out of line."
"Yeesh."
Duncan laughed. “Don't worry, Cynthia. There will be no mayhem. At least not in your presence."
"Good to know. Okay. I'll put it on my calendar then."
"I look forward to seeing you."
"Mmmhmm. Wait,” Cyn said. “Is Mirabelle in any danger until then? I mean, is Jabril likely to try and snatch her back?"
"It would be foolish on his part, but he might be desperate enough to try, yes. Mirabelle's fortune is considerable and Jabril has treated it as his own for many years now. She will be much safer once she is within the estate, whether with Alexandra or here at the main house. You will be bringing her by tonight?"
"We'd planned to do some shopping first. Your note said midnight."
"I'll send someone over to accompany you, then. Perhaps Mirabelle would enjoy meeting Elke. I don't believe Jabril has a single female among his minions."
"You really think there's any danger?"
"No. Not this soon, but why take the chance?"
"Okay. Elke it is. Should we pick her up?"
"No, she'll be at your door within the hour. Wait for her, Cynthia."
"Like I wouldn't."
He was still laughing when he hung up. Cyn smiled. She liked Duncan. Too bad his boss was such a bastard.
A whole week, she thought. She would have preferred to have everything settled sooner than that, but maybe it was better this way. Mirabelle could recover a little from her traumatic break with Jabril, plus she'd have time to find something beautiful to wear on the big day—nothing like a gorgeous outfit to make a person feel good about herself.
Cyn entered the date on her computer calendar, and then wrote it in big red letters on a sticky note for her refrigerator door.
She quickly scanned the rest of her e-mails, dashing off quick responses to two inquiries from potential new clients—vampires both of them. She attached a list of her standard fees and terms, and then switched over to Google and typed in the search she was really interested in.
As she paged through the results, she stroked the side of her neck, once again retracing the path Raphael's mouth had taken in her dream. The search finally produced the image she was looking for, and she studied it carefully before printing off a couple of pages. The Internet was a wonderful thing. As she waited on the printer, a loud growl from the vicinity of her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten in awhile—sandwiches with Luci. Delicious, but long ago.
Grabbing up the pages as they came out of the printer, she picked up her now empty coffee cup and clambered back downstairs. After a quick perusal of the offerings in her freezer, she decided to reward herself with a muffin. And not just any muffin, but a giant pouf of calories and sugar specifically designed to fatten Cyn up and help her get a husband. They were the creation of her housekeeper Anna, who was distressed by Cyn's continued singlehood and determined to do something about it. Cyn didn't exactly endorse the woman's marital crusade, but she was happy to eat the muffins ... sparingly. She'd never had one tested, but there was little doubt in her mind that each of the golden treasures was packed with tasty calories. She popped one in the microwave and flipped open her cell phone to call Lonnie.
"Cyn!” he answered. “This is a surprise. Did you get the blood I sent over?"
"Yeah, thanks, Lonnie, listen—"
"You saw my note about making sure she drinks all of it?"
"Note?"
"I left a note in the cooler. Make sure Mirabelle drinks both pints; she won't want to, you'll have to push her, and she can do one now and one later if it's too much all at once."
"Um, yuck, but okay. I've got a question for you."
"Shoot."
"You guys were talking yesterday about Mirabelle drinking from a bag, rather than from the vein. That's what you said, “from the vein."
"Yeah.” Lonnie dragged the word out as if wondering where she was going with it.
"Right, so, do you ever drink from an artery? You know like the ones in the neck that—"
"Yeah, Cyn,” he interrupted. “I know what an artery is. The answer's no."
"No? Like in never?"
"No, like in never."
"Why? I mean, why veins, not arteries?"
"Human Circulation 101, babe. Veins go to the heart, arteries come out of it. Which means the blood in arteries is pumping, hence the human pulse, thump thump thump. When a hospital draws blood, they stick a needle in your vein. Same for a vamp, nice, smooth flow, no big deal. You pierce an artery and you've got a real mess on your hands, and a pulsing mess to boot. Not conducive to a quiet meal, if you get my drift."
"But wouldn't that make it easier? You know, faster?"
"So who wants fast? Think about a can of soda. You pop the top and drink it and it comes out at a nice easy pace. But if you stick a tiny hole in the side instead, there's too much pressure and it squirts all over the place. You can't control it and you can't drink it fast enough. Same thing with blood."
"Okay, so in the neck, you'd use the jugular vein, right?” she asked, remembering the feel of Raphael's lips against her neck. “Not the carotid artery?"
"You got it. Why you wanna know this stuff, Cyn?"
"Something I'm working on,” she said vaguely, her attention focused on shuffling through the images she'd printed off upstairs. She found the two she was looking for, pictures that showed quite clearly the location of the major veins and arteries in the human neck. Pictures that told her no vampire had put those holes in the necks of five dead young women in the county's very special paranormal morgue.
"Cyn?"
Lonnie's voice called her back to the task at hand. “Yeah, I'm here. Listen, thanks, Lonnie. That's what I needed. Oh, and about Mirabelle. She'll probably be staying with Alexandra after tonight. She'll be safer there until this whole thing with Texas is worked out."
"Alexandra?” Lonnie's surprise was obvious.
"Yeah. Duncan suggested it. That won't be a problem, will it? I mean you send blood over to Alexandra anyway, right?"
"Yeah, yeah I do. Let me know when you make the move."
"Great. Thanks, Lonnie. Talk to you later.” The microwave timer dinged as she was hanging up. By the time she had poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat down to enjoy her muffin, she was hearing the first sounds of life from the guest suite. Mirabelle was finally awake and no doubt starving.
While she waited for Mirabelle to finish her shower, Cyn pulled the cooler out of the fridge and quickly scanned Lonnie's note. In addition to his recommendation that Mirabelle drink both pints, he'd included instructions for bringing the blood to the preferred temperature. She was amazed that her life had reached a point where heating up a bag of blood for someone's breakfast seemed commonplace, but it was ready and waiting when Mirabelle walked into the kitchen.
"Thank you,” Mirabelle said softly, refusing to meet Cyn's eyes.
Cyn frowned, remembering Lonnie telling her the young vamp was embarrassed that she had to drink from a bag. “I'm going to run upstairs real quick and shower while you have breakfast, Mirabelle."
"Sure.” Her relief was evident.
"Good. So, here's the plan for tonight. First, you need some real clothes, so we're going shopping. Elke will be coming over from the estate to join us. She'
s one of Raphael's security team."
Mirabelle looked worried, so she added quickly, “Duncan doesn't think there's any danger, but he thought you might feel safer that way. And Elke's okay.” She paused thoughtfully. “Although, I wouldn't take her advice when it comes to clothes, if you know what I mean,” she said with a wink. “After shopping, we'll head over to the estate to visit Raphael's sister, Alexandra. If you guys get along, you'll stay with her. If not, we'll figure out something else. By the way, your meeting with Raphael's set for a week from today.” She tapped the sticky note she'd placed on the fridge. “I guess there's rules to this vampire thing. Who knew, right?"
She started up the stairs to her shower, but remembered Lonnie's instructions. “Oh,” she said, turning to make sure Mirabelle was paying attention. “Lonnie said for you to drink both pints of blood, but if you don't feel like a second one right now, we can stop back by here after we go shopping and before we head over to Raphael's estate. I don't know about you, but shopping makes me hungry."
"We're going to Raphael's?” The girl's face lit up with excitement.
Good grief, a teenage crush, Cyn thought. And on Raphael, of all people. “We're going to the estate, but we probably—hopefully, she added silently—won't be seeing Raphael,” she clarified. “Alexandra has her own house there."
"Oh,” Mirabelle said, somewhat deflated. “Okay,” she added hurriedly. “Thanks, Cynthia."
Cyn paused again, halfway up the stairs. “No problem, kid, and please, please call me Cyn. Enjoy your breakfast.” She even managed to say it with a straight face.
* * * *
By the time Cyn had showered and dressed in her usual working uniform of jeans, sweater and cowboy boots, Mirabelle had finished the first pint and was sitting in front of the television, flipping through channels. She looked up as Cyn entered the room, her eyes sparkling. “This is amazing, Cyn. You've got like every channel on Earth here!"
"Yeah. Five hundred channels and still nothing to watch.” A loud buzzer sounded, indicating someone at her downstairs door. “That's probably Elke,” she commented, but taking nothing for granted, she crossed the kitchen to the security monitor and brought up a visual of Raphael's buffed and blond security vamp, wearing the dark grey suit that was the uniform of Raphael's security team. “Hey, Elke! We'll be down in a sec."
Elke looked up at the camera with a scowl at Cyn's cheerful greeting. The two of them weren't exactly friends and they'd certainly never gone shopping together. But Cyn didn't want Mirabelle to feel anymore stressed than she already was.
"You ready to go?” she asked the girl.
"Sure!” Mirabelle flicked off the set and a few minutes later the three of them were cruising down Pacific Coast Highway, with Elke a silent presence in the back seat.
"We'll hit Third Street,” Cyn told Mirabelle as they passed the Malibu Pier. “It's a little cold for outside shopping, but we won't take long this time. Just some stuff to get you by for a few days.” She glanced sideways, appraising Mirabelle's figure, still pretty much concealed by the jeans and loose t-shirt which were all she had to wear. “You're a size eight or so, I think. Maybe a ten when you're properly nourished, but I bet you've lost some weight."
Mirabelle shrugged. “I haven't bought any clothes since my mother died. Jabril always insisted I wear what he picked out. Liz too, but she snuck around and bought stuff for herself. She'd figured out a way to get ahold of some of our money, but she never told me how. It didn't matter anyway. I never had the guts to go against him. My big rebellion was wearing an old silk nightgown of my mother's."
"Yeah, well, that's history. Off the rack will do for now, but once we find Liz, we're going to do some serious shopping."
"You think you'll find her?"
"Hell, yeah,” Cyn said, hoping it was true.
Silence filled the car for a few minutes. “Is there something I can tell Liz when I find her, to let her know you're with me? Something only the two of you would know?” Cyn caught Elke's look of surprise in the rearview mirror and gave her a dirty look back. What? Did the vampire think Cyn didn't know her own business?
Unaware of the silent exchange, Mirabelle thought for a moment. “Tell her I said we cows have to stick together."
Cyn glanced over, eyebrows raised skeptically.
"It's a joke thing from when we were kids. Liz'll understand."
Cyn shrugged. “Whatever you say. Listen, like I said, after shopping, I'm taking you by the estate to meet Raphael's sister, Alexandra. She's a lot older than you are now, but she was even younger than you when she was vamped. I don't know all the details, but she had kind of a rough time of it before Raphael found her, and then last month someone kidnapped her, trying to blackmail him. We got her back, but another vampire, a guy named Matias, died trying to protect her and they were pretty close. Duncan thinks the two of you might have a lot in common, that you might be able to help each other get through all of this."
"Okay.” Mirabelle was doubtful. “Are we staying there then? At her house?"
"Uh, no. Well, you are and, of course, Elke will stay too. But I need to look for Liz."
"Why can't I come with you?"
Cyn sighed. “Look, I know you want to help, but the places I need to go, the people I need to talk to ... they'll be reluctant to talk to me, much less someone they don't know. Plus...” Cyn scowled, trying to think of a nice way to say it and coming up with nothing. “I work alone, Mirabelle,” she said simply. “I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."
"But she's my sister."
"I know that, and I know you want me to find her as quickly as possible. So you need to let me do my job, okay?"
"Right.” The young woman sighed and looked out the window. “What do you think Lord Raphael will do?” she said finally. “I mean, when I go see him?"
"I don't know. Something formal and pretentious, I suppose.” She heard Elke snort a laugh from the back seat. “Those guys seem to love stuffy ceremonies,” she continued. “Besides you're the one who said he was a nice guy."
"Yeah, but he's also really scary."
Cyn laughed. “Well, we agree on that much anyway.” She slid into a lucky vacant spot on the first level of the parking structure and turned off the engine. “Let's go shopping."
Chapter Twenty-five
Houston, Texas
Jabril stepped out of the isolation chamber, feeling the slight displacement of air as the heavy door swung closed and shut out the stench of death filling the room behind him. The interrogation of his guards had been quite satisfying. Not that he'd learned anything new. But they'd been more than eager to answer his questions, and he had questioned them thoroughly. Yes, he remembered, with a contented sigh, he'd been most thorough. It hadn't saved them, of course. Their failure had been unforgivable, its cost almost incalculable to him personally—just the thought of it had his rage swelling in a bid to overtake him once more. But he disciplined himself, tamping it down, storing it for use later, when it would serve his purposes to better effect.
That bitch of Raphael's was the one responsible for all of this, interfering where she didn't belong. He hadn't needed the guards to tell him that much. He might have suspected the Western vampire lord of conspiring against him, but he was forced to admit the mistake had been his own. He'd invited her here, like bringing a snake into his nest, thinking to toy with Raphael, to prick that bubble of confidence the bastard wore like a second skin.
Well. He drew a calming breath. This wasn't over yet. He didn't care about Mirabelle. She was but a means to an end. The Hawthorn money belonged to him and him alone, even if it did come with two useless females attached. But he was getting ahead of himself. He smoothed his tie, tucking it beneath his jacket as he started down the hall. The first order of business was retrieving his property.
* * * *
Jabril settled himself behind his desk, taking a fortifying sip of red wine spiced with just enough blood to make it palatable. He considered his next move caref
ully. If he waited, Raphael would surely phone him directly. There was no doubt as to Mirabelle's whereabouts, or who was sheltering her. Raphael would know that as well as he did. And if the girl thought she was going to shift her allegiance permanently ... he took a longer drink of wine, swallowing his anger at even the thought of such a thing. But if she did, there were formalities to be observed.
He lifted the delicate ivory and gold handset of his antique desk phone and dialed a very private number.
Raphael answered himself. “Jabril,” he said.
"Raphael.” He heard the other vampire lord chuckle softly and gritted his teeth. “I believe you have something of mine,” he said finally, allowing none of his frustration to seep into his voice.
"It is my understanding she no longer wishes to be yours."
"I'm certain that is your understanding."
"You may, of course, send a witness."
Jabril stiffened in surprise, thankful that the vampire lord on the other end of the line couldn't see him. He hadn't expected Raphael to move this quickly, or Mirabelle to act so decisively. Raphael, at least, had to know the significance of the stupid girl to him. She was more than a simple minion. Far more.
"Did you have a date in mind?” he asked.
"Seven days, as is customary,” Raphael said. “The ceremony will be next Sunday."
"Hmm,” Jabril responded, leaning forward and flipping pages, as if checking a calendar, knowing the other vampire lord could hear every movement. “Yes, I can rearrange a few things and attend myself."
Jabril could feel Raphael's smug smile even before he said, “I think we both know that won't be happening."
"Really?” Jabril said, feigning surprise. “What happened to that vaunted confidence of yours?"
"I was thinking more of Mirabelle's comfort than my own. She was quite traumatized when she arrived."
"I'm sure that is so. It must have been quite a shock for her to wake and find that she'd been stolen away from her own home while she'd been helpless in sleep."
"Is that what happened?"
Jabril fought back his anger yet again. “Asim, then,” he said with perfect calm.
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