by I. T. Lucas
“I can be here at four if you want. I’ll ask to be released from duty earlier.”
Again with the military lingo. She wondered where he’d served and in what capacity.
“Perfect. Now eat your eggs before they get cold.”
While Brundar got busy cleaning his plate, Callie went through a mental list of her best recipes. She didn’t dare try something new in case it didn’t work out. Not all recipes were as good as they looked on the screen.
The same applied to plans. Not all worked out as well as anticipated. An idea that seemed great in theory could crash and burn when implemented.
Her seduction plans aside, Callie still owed Brundar a huge debt of gratitude, and the only way she knew how to repay even a fraction of what he’d done for her was to cook him dinners every night from now until about forever.
It wasn’t as if she had much else to offer him.
She would’ve gladly done his laundry and picked up his dry cleaning too, but she knew he would be offended if she offered.
Brundar would refuse any attempt on her part to repay his kindness.
Callie didn’t like being in his debt or anyone else’s. But there were several factors at work forcing her to swallow her pride and just say thank you.
One was that she couldn’t have done it without Brundar’s help, and that cooking him dinners would never come close to repaying that debt.
But more importantly, Brundar deserved to feel good about what he’d done and was still doing for her. To look for convoluted ways to repay him was like telling him she felt bad about accepting his help, and therefore taking away from his pleasure of providing it.
Oftentimes, the giver got more out of the giving than the receiver got from the receiving.
CHAPTER 7: KIAN
Kian tapped his hand on the conference table to get everyone’s attention.
When they quieted down, he began. “We have two topics on the agenda for this meeting. One is the progress with the autonomous cars, and the other is the continuing murders. Let's start with the easy one. The cars.”
William pushed his glasses up his nose. “They sent a rep to the factory in Sweden. The prototype should arrive here the day after tomorrow.”
The guy’s face had gotten so gaunt that it no longer fit the frame, and the glasses kept sliding down. William needed a new pair. But more than that he needed a change of pace.
“We will test the prototype as soon as it arrives. Once we know what changes are needed, I want you to book a flight to Stockholm and supervise the production line. At least until the first batch is ready to ship.”
William looked uncomfortable. “I hate flying.”
Bhathian clapped William on the shoulder. “Then load up on Snake’s Venom before you board and sleep throughout the entire trip. First class has seats that recline all the way. They turn into very comfortable beds.”
William shook his head. “I don’t like getting drunk either. I’ll figure something out.”
Kian nodded. Council members and Guardians alike could not afford to have quirks like aversion to flying. They had a job to do. “Good. Let’s move on to the murders. Onegus?”
“Our men are all clear, thank the merciful Fates. All have alibis for the time of at least one of the murders. I think it’s safe to assume that we don’t have a madman in our midst, let alone two who went on a simultaneous killing spree. Which leaves either a Doomer or a random, unaffiliated immortal.”
Kian raked his fingers through his hair. “True, now that we know there are more than two players in this game, we need to take it into account. It can be a lone immortal, unaffiliated with any group, maybe a member of Kalugal’s crew.”
Onegus reclined in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I wish we could find him, see if we could work together. Think how much stronger we could be with an additional group of highly trained warriors. We could continue their training until they reached Guardian level. A lot easier than starting with newbies who have no prior training or combat experience.”
Kian leaned forward. “You would trust ex-Doomers?”
Onegus shrugged. “We have two who’ve proved themselves quite helpful.”
“Not the same, Onegus. If Kalugal indeed managed to defect with an entire platoon, he and his men can take us on with ease. Are you willing to risk it? Because I’m not.”
Onegus let his arms drop. “Of course not. It was just wishful thinking on my part. I’m tired of trying to manage with only six Guardians. That’s more than enough when nothing is going on, but not nearly enough in time of trouble.”
“Which is the big conundrum.” Kian sighed. “Most of the time Guardians have little to do. But when you are needed there isn’t enough of you to do the job. I want to start patrolling the areas where the murders occurred.”
“Can’t do it.” Onegus shook his head. “They were spread out, and the way Los Angeles is built, it’s not like there is a center where everything happens. You need a lot of men to do that.”
“Hey!” Kri called out. “Chauvinist much?”
Onegus pinned her with a hard stare. “We are talking about an immortal male gone rogue. I would never send a female Guardian after him. And if it makes me a chauvinist, I can live with that.”
Kri humphed. “I can take on most immortal males.”
“Civilians,” Kian said. “If this is an ex or active Doomer, he is not a civilian. Do you think you can take on Dalhu? Or Robert?”
“Not Dalhu, I’ve seen him fight. But maybe I can take on Robert.”
“Match! Match! Match! I want to see a match,” Yamanu singsonged while drumming his hand on the table and making the whole thing shake.
Kian groaned. Sometimes his Guardians behaved like high schoolers. Correction. Kindergarteners. “You’re welcome to invite him to spar with you in the gym. I’m sure he would love it. I’m just not sure what Michael would think of you getting physical with an immortal bachelor who is not a relative of yours.”
“I don’t care what he thinks. He can watch if he wants.”
Yamanu rubbed his palms together. “That would be one hell of a show. I call dibs on a first-row seat.”
“Enough!” Kian raised his voice.
Everyone quieted instantly.
“This is an official meeting, not a social gathering. I need suggestions for patrolling the murder areas. If we believe this is the work of an immortal male, it is our responsibility to deal with him. The human authorities can’t and should not have to take care of it.”
The door opened, and Okidu walked in with a tray. “I brewed fresh coffee, master.”
“Thank you, Okidu.” Kian waited for the butler to put a porcelain cup in front of each person and then poured them coffee from the two thermal carafes he’d brought.
When he was done, Okidu bowed and retreated from the room.
“Any ideas?” Kian glanced at Brundar who hadn’t spoken a word yet.
The Guardian who was the master of stoic expressions looked perturbed, his forehead creased and his eyes focused somewhere on his knees. His body was sitting at the conference table, but his mind was miles away.
If Anandur’s remark hadn’t been a joke, then Brundar had gotten himself a woman. Not a hookup, but someone he saw on a regular basis. Which would explain his peculiar mood. Getting involved with a human was a bad idea, and Brundar was well aware of that.
“I could tap into the surveillance cameras in the area.” William brought Kian’s attention back to where it needed to be.
“To what end?” Onegus asked. “Someone would have to watch the feed. Even if something suspicious came up, and even if we had men on standby in the area, they wouldn’t get there in time to catch the bastard.”
“True,” Kian conceded. “But they can make it in time to save the woman from bleeding to death. Besides, we will at least have a visual. We can continue the search using the facial recognition program.”
“I wonder why the police are not doing that,” Kr
i said.
She had a point, but Kian doubted they had. The police only looked at the feed after they found a victim, not as a prevention method. But William’s suggestion gave him an idea.
“Here is what I think we should do. William, go ahead and hack the surveillance cameras. I’ll contact Turner and have him find us a contractor to monitor the feed. They will contact us and call an ambulance if needed. We can take up the investigation from there.”
William lifted a hand. “It will have to wait until I come back from Sweden. I can’t do it all in one day, which is all the time I have before the prototype car arrives and I have to get busy with that.”
Anandur snapped his fingers. “Not a problem. We have a new hacker on board.”
Kian lifted a brow. “The kid? I understand that he is in the clinic, sick with pneumonia.”
“He is. But knowing Roni, he could handle this even sick as a dog.” Anandur turned to William. “If you can show him what you need and provide him with the equipment he needs, he can probably do everything from his sickbed.”
William shook his head. “That’s a lot of equipment.”
“Then we move his sickbed to your lab, together with Bridget to keep an eye on him.” Kian looked at William for approval.
The computer lab was the guy’s whole world. He wouldn’t be thrilled about letting the kid in there unsupervised.
“Let me talk with him first. See how good he really is.”
Anandur chuckled. “He is good.”
CHAPTER 8: RONI
Being sick sucked.
Roni was bored out of his mind, and lying in bed all day was getting on his nerves. The trouble was that walking around unaided was still a no-no. Hell, even going to the bathroom required leaning on Sylvia or one of the nurses for support.
He vehemently refused a catheter, which meant no intravenous either.
His pneumonia was viral, so there wasn’t much the hot little doctor could do with medications other than fever reducers.
It still bugged the hell out of him that he was younger than the hot-looking doctor’s grown son. He had to remember that looks were deceptive as far as immortals went, and some of these people were ancient.
Anandur, who was a major goofball, was fucking one thousand years old. How was it possible?
Roni got the biological explanation, but that was just a small part of the equation. The amount of information the guy must’ve absorbed over his long life should have made him a genius. But he wasn’t. Mentally, he was just an ordinary dude who acted like any twenty-something-year-old.
Well, not exactly. There were a few tales.
Like, forget politically correct. The way the guy talked, every other sentence had something that would offend an average millennial.
And his jokes. Come on, Anandur needed major help in that department. He was almost as bad as Barty.
Fuck. He hoped the guy was okay. Barty was either worried sick or spitting mad and cursing Roni with every vile thing he could think of.
Both Barty and Jerome would get in shitloads of trouble because of him. Mostly Jerome. Barty had done his part in guarding Roni, but Jerome had abandoned his post. No one would believe him that he’d somehow gotten hypnotized.
Guilt was an unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation.
What he wouldn’t have given for a laptop right now. There was nothing that could take Roni’s mind off life’s stinky nuggets like a good hacking session that required his total concentration.
“I brought you soup.” Sylvia entered his room with a tray.
“I don’t want soup.”
“Well, tough, Mr. Grumpy, soup is what you get. Bridget said you need plenty of liquids.”
Sylvia pressed the foot pedal, lifting the back of his bed to a sitting position. “Open wide.” She brought a spoon to his mouth.
He shook his head.
“Do you want a catheter?”
“No.”
“Then open up.”
Resistance was futile.
Sylvia smiled. “That’s a good boy. Now let’s try another.”
“Yes, Mommy.”
She fed him another spoonful, and another until the bowl was empty.
“All done. See? It wasn’t so bad.”
Roni grunted in response.
The soup wasn’t bad, he was just sick and tired of hospitals, and of bland food, and of nothing to do.
“I need a laptop. Can you get me one?”
Sylvia put the bowl on the tray and hopped on the bed to sit next to him. “I have to ask around who has a laptop to spare.”
“Don’t you have one?”
“I do. At home. I don’t live here.”
He glanced at the soup. “Then where did you get that from?” As far as he knew, he was the only occupant of the clinic, and it had no dedicated food service.
“Nathalie, Andrew’s wife made it. She sends her love and apologizes for not coming to visit. It’s because of the baby. She and Andrew can’t get infected, but they are afraid of an airborne virus clinging to their clothes and then attacking little baby Phoenix.”
Roni frowned. “When is that baby going to turn immortal?”
Sylvia shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said while looking away.
He knew exactly why she felt uncomfortable. Did she think he was stupid and wouldn't figure it out?
In case he didn’t transition, which seemed most likely at the moment, Sylvia didn’t want him to know more than he already did. Fewer memories to wipe away.
“Did anyone talk to Kian about me?” At least they’d finally told him the name of the guy who was in charge of Roni’s future. He was sick of calling him the big boss, or the dude on top.
“I’m sure someone did. But we are all waiting to see what happens. If you transition, then there is nothing to talk about.”
“Bridget said that the pneumonia might be the reason I’m not transitioning. My body needs to get healthy first.” Chances were the doctor was just being nice and trying to give him hope. It made sense, though. Like the way certain diseases stalled the onset of puberty.
“She is absolutely right.”
Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Roni called out in his sick guy’s barely there voice. But for the immortals it should be enough.
“The room is soundproofed. I’ll go see who it is.” Sylvia hopped down and went to open the door.
“William. What are you doing here?”
“I came to see my new partner.”
Partner?
The clan’s famous science genius was calling Roni a partner? That must’ve meant that they’d decided to let him stay no matter what.
“Sure, come in.” Sylvia moved aside to let William in.
He was tall, though not as tall as Anandur, more like Andrew’s height. But he didn’t look so good. The dark circles under his eyes were so deep, even his glasses couldn’t hide them.
“Hi, Roni, I’m William.” He offered Roni a hand.
Roni shook it. “Usually my handshake is more manly than the limp noodle I can offer you now.”
“No worries. How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
William pulled up a chair and put it next to Roni’s bed. “Yeah, me too. Had trouble sleeping lately.”
“I can see that.”
William looked up at Sylvia who was leaning against the wall. “I’m sorry. Did I take your chair?” He started to get up.
“No, keep it. I usually sit on Roni’s bed.”
“Oh.” William dropped his butt back and pushed his glasses up his nose. “So I hear you have some mad skills?”
“I do.”
“I have a job for you.”
Roni felt like William had just thrown him a lifeline. “Yes, thank you. I’m going insane with nothing to do.”
William smiled. “You came in last night, and it’s not even midday yet. Do you always work around the clock?”
“Any moment I can.”
&n
bsp; “Same here.”
Roni liked the guy. A kindred spirit. “High five, dude.”
William obliged him, lifting a palm up and holding it close to Roni’s so he didn’t have to lift his own too high to reach it.
“What’s the job?”
“Hacking into surveillance cameras.”
“Child’s play.”
“Hundreds of them. Spread over fifty square miles of densely populated urban area.”
“Still child’s play, but time-consuming.”
“Right. Time that I don’t have because I have another project I need to take care of. Anandur suggested I check with you. Are you up to it in your current state?”
“Yes, yes, and yes. Where do I work?”
“Wait a moment.” Sylvia pushed off the wall and came to sit on Roni’s bed. “You’re so sick I have to spoon feed you. And you think you can work?”
“My body is weak. Not my brain.”
“You need your hands to type on the keyboard.”
“I can manage that.”
She shook her head. “Not unless Bridget says it’s okay. Even Kian can’t go over her head where her patients are involved.”
“Then call her in.”
Sylvia turned to William. “Can’t it wait a few days until Roni feels better?”
William sighed. “Did you read about the string of murders?”
“Of course. They think it’s some satanic cult.”
“We think it’s an immortal male gone insane. Not one of ours, Onegus checked everyone’s alibi. It’s either a Doomer or an unaffiliated immortal. We have to help catch him. Every day that passes without us doing anything could mean another victim’s life.”
Well, that put things in a different perspective. Roni’s mind went to work.
Sylvia looked like she wanted to say something, then shook her head and got off the bed. “Let me find Bridget.” She turned to William. “Should I tell her what’s at stake? Or do you want to do it?”
“Makes no difference to me.”
“Then I’ll tell her.”
“Thank you.”