At least Ry was asking his warlocks to keep an eye out for her—he liked Breanne. He and Erland, both. Tory hadn't ever met her, and if things continued as they were, he might never meet her.
Cheedas, on the other hand, barely spoke to me on the best of days. I was still attempting to sort that out. He supervised the kitchen and rarely made an appearance at the table, although he had a standing invitation.
At first he hadn't recalled Breanne, but others around him did and they talked about her—and the fact that they hadn't realized she was my sister—incessantly now. Cheedas was brought up to speed after the fact, almost, and it embarrassed him terribly.
I didn't push him on the subject—it was no secret that he'd withheld meals and refused to allow the palace staff to serve Breanne or clean my bedroom while she stayed there. She'd had to do those things herself or go without. I'd seen him in my study shortly after he'd staked me and I'd tried to have a conversation about the mind cloud, but he'd barely responded to my words.
Deeply ashamed best described what he felt, and he wasn't comfortable coming anywhere near me. My sister could Change What Was with Cheedas if she were so inclined, but after the way she'd suffered at his hand, that would likely never happen. Had Cheedas not been a modified vampire, I imagine that he might have made his way to The Line.
Kiarra, too, said that Pheligar was tight-lipped on the subject of Breanne, but somehow she'd gotten the idea from him that at least one Larentii had been affected by the mind cloud. Since she didn't know much, including the name of the Larentii in question, she and I had let it go. We had other, larger difficulties to deal with.
It was a pleasure to work with her, though. She and I often thought alike, and there'd been more than one time when Merrill had sat between us, called us his girls and had an arm around both our shoulders. I didn't mind those times one bit.
"Honey, I don't know how to figure this out," I eventually said to Gavril. "I'm just glad that whoever came did come to get you and your warlocks. There's no telling where the Campiaan Alliance might be if you'd gone down." I didn't add that I'd have gone down, too. That was my son, after all, and it would kill me (and Garwin Wyatt) to lose him.
"Did we ever learn everything that Breanne is capable of doing?" Merrill asked. "She is your sister, after all."
"No, because she wasn't watched closely, unless she was in a Council meeting or with Gavril," I muttered angrily. Gavin hadn't even bothered to teach her the lessons she needed as a vampire. Grant and Heathe said she'd learned the rules from a comp-vid.
If he hadn't been affected by the mind cloud, I would have kicked Gavin myself over that. It was no secret, too, that Gavril had asked Nall Seak to hit her. Erland had supplied that information. He'd seen her face afterward, and his jaw always tightened when he talked about it. My Karathian warlock seldom showed anger, but he did over that.
"I'm never going to see my sister, am I?" I glanced at Merrill. He, Gavin and Gavril stared—I'd been lost in thought and spoke my thoughts aloud.
"Mom, I'm sorry about that." Gavril stood and stared out the window of his study. It overlooked the grounds at the front of San Gerxon Palace.
"How's Reah?" I quickly changed the subject.
"Pregnant," he muttered. I already knew that from Ry. Tory would be a father again, and he'd already told Jayd to stay away or neither he nor Garde would ever see the baby. Garde had backed away immediately. Jayd was still fuming—he wanted to find a tentative mate for the baby, if it turned out to be a girl like all of Tory's others. He and Glinda had all of Reah's daughters already, and Glinda still hadn't gotten pregnant again.
The last time Kifirin had shown up asking for forgiveness, I'd ended up yelling at him, asking him why he hadn't interfered with Jayd and Glinda, making her pregnant instead of Reah. He'd blown clouds of smoke, told me he was having difficulties with his overlord and disappeared. His disappearance was probably a good thing—I still wanted to kick his ass more often than not.
"Can anybody get close enough to these sandstorms to determine what's causing them? It can't be a warlock or any average power wielder, can it?" Gavril asked, turning back to me. "I had all four warlocks with me, and they were powerless against this."
"Anybody who's gotten close enough didn't live over it," I pointed out. I didn't tell him what else I knew about them—it would only serve to terrify everybody.
"What about the inmates from Yigga Prison?" Merrill asked. "Have we seen any of them after they disappeared?"
"No. Norian and Ildevar have everybody looking, including the ASD, RAA and anybody else they can commandeer in law enforcement. There's no sign of them."
"But we know the bodies disappeared," Gavin growled. "The other bodies were left behind to rot. Theirs weren't."
"Have you asked Trevor to keep an eye open—not just for them but for Breanne?"
"I haven't spoken to him about Breanne," Gavin ducked his head. "He has information on the prisoners." That's when I knew there was something he hadn't told me. I was prepared to wait patiently to see what that might be.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
Kathleen Rome wasn't interested in the game. She wanted to chat while Jayson, Hank and James Rome, Sr., cheered three-pointers, drank expensive beer and ate snacks provided to a private box.
"Jayson's magazine is printing an excerpt from Ross's book about Everett Williams," Kathleen gushed at halftime. "Just to create buzz around the book. We intend to release it in three months—it's almost finished."
"It ought to be a bestseller," I said. "Everett was loved and respected by just about everybody."
"James knew Everett—that's why he commissioned the book. Met with him several times—Everett always consulted James on media-related matters."
"I can see why he might do that," I nodded. James Sr.'s name was well-known across the country. He'd been in the newspaper and publishing business all his life, after inheriting the company from his father, John Rome.
"I wish Everett was still alive. He was only sixty-four when he died and those people who claim to be politicians in Washington now are nothing more than a bunch of posturing idiots," Kathleen huffed.
While I might agree with her on the state of most politicians, who seemed better prepared to disagree with the opposing party rather than work out a compromise much of the time, I settled for nodding instead of expressing myself verbally. Some—a few, anyway—actually had good intentions; they just didn't have loud enough voices. A few, too, had enough crazy to fill a psych ward, and those seemed to get all the airtime.
"Ready to go?" Jayson asked, taking my elbow when the game was over. I didn't even know who'd won—Kathleen had monopolized my time. I got the idea she didn't get to talk with many women who shared common interests often. I purposely didn't read her again—I had no desire to see endless dinners and functions where she appeared as a hostess, most likely engaging in idle and purposeless chatter until everybody went home for the evening. Kathleen was intelligent, it was easy enough to see, but her husband ruled the house as well as the business and that was that.
Discreetly, I pulled my arm away from Jayson's grasp—he'd ignored his mother and me in favor of a basketball game. I wanted to tell him he had a wonderful mother and he should cherish her. I didn't. That might open the floor to questions I had no desire to answer.
I thought about Lissa, too, and the fact that we'd never talked. Well, Gavin and Gavril would likely ensure that it remained that way. Cheedas would probably poison my tea if I showed up on Le-Ath Veronis again. Yes, it was undoubtedly a good thing that I intended to stay away from all of them.
* * *
"Did you ever find the reason Erithia Cordan's casino exploded?" Kooper settled into a chair beside Trevor's desk.
"Forensics found nothing. No bombs or traces of any type of explosives anywhere. If Lissa had been here, I'd have said maybe she caused it. Since she wasn't, I don't have a clue, and neither do the experts who work for your bunch."
"Norian didn't tell me he had a team working on it." Kooper frowned at Trevor.
"Anything like that gets near the palace and he's a crazed tyrant. I'm not surprised he didn't tell you. He's too busy trying to get Lissa back."
"So, she's upset over Skel Hawer, still?"
"I get that idea," Trevor nodded. "Haven't heard what happened to the girl he attacked. Probably back with her sire. Heinrich's a recluse, so that's no surprise. I did hear that Lissa set aside the engagement to Casimir, since he and the girl were never introduced. Lissa doesn't like that sort of coercion."
"Understood. Want to walk with me? I'd like to take a look at the space left after the explosion." Kooper stood and stretched.
"Most of it's gone, now, since we couldn't find anything. Cordan owed money on it, and the investment company wants to rebuild. Already has a buyer lined up."
"No surprise. It's in a prime location. I'm still amazed that the explosion didn't affect nearby casinos."
"Me, too. Come on, I'll walk with you." Trevor stood and followed Kooper from his office.
* * *
"Why?" Kalenegar stared at Graegar and his son, Garegar. "Has any Larentii ever been affected by such as this? I felt it fall away the moment Breanne disappeared."
"And there I'd thought you were taking your anger with your father to an extreme by torturing her," Graegar replied, toying with a dying rose and bringing it back to a tight, fresh bud with the power he held.
"I had no idea what was happening. Surely someone should have known I wouldn't treat an innocent like that."
"I have no idea what you might do; you've been gone so long. I only have tales from the others regarding the long feud with your sire. Breanne certainly suffered until she discovered how to get away from you."
"She will hate me, now, and that is my Vhanaraszh."
"I don't know what to tell you, other than she managed to destroy the locating chip Connegar and Reemagar placed. She cannot be found by any of us."
"Will you send out mindspeech? She didn't find you repulsive," Kal asked softly.
"I won't. I have no desire to upset or offend her by asking her to answer, merely to bring her to you. I imagine that a great length of time might have to pass before she consents to be on the same world as you."
"What are you saying?" Kal demanded.
"Father is saying you're an ass, in humanoid terminology," Garegar spoke for the first time. "Grandfather says worse, and he refused to come with us to meet you. Great-Grandfather actually cursed you when he found out what you'd done."
"Of course he did. Do you think I haven't cursed myself? Do you?" Kalenegar folded away.
"I believe he may be contrite, Father," Garegar turned to Graegar and smiled.
"You may be correct, my child," Graegar agreed.
* * *
"Trajan, is this how it'll be from now on? You only speaking to me when there's no other option?" Ashe leaned back in his office chair, studying Trajan with a frown.
"You have the nerve to ask me that?" Trajan growled, turning away.
"Traje, talk to me. Tell me how you feel."
"Really? You want to hear what I have to say? The Mighty Hand wants to know what I think?" Incredulity coated Trajan's words. "There you are, with what you want, only she won't let you touch her or talk to her. I had what I wanted, and you fucked it up."
"Yeah. I fucked this up," Ashe agreed. "How many times do you want me to say I'm sorry?"
"I don't want an apology. I want Breanne. Go find her for me and I'll call it even."
"That's the trouble, Traje. I can't find her, and I don't know why that is. Ren says that Connegar and Reemagar placed a locating chip, but that either stopped working or disappeared, somehow. Nobody knows where she is."
"Great." Trajan rose and tossed his chair against Ashe's office wall. "Just fucking wonderful." Turning to his wolf, Trajan trotted from Ashe's study.
* * *
"Kay? Kalia?" Bill coaxed. "You have to eat something." Bill pushed a plate of sliced gishi fruit in front of Kay, who sat uncomfortably at the kitchen island. All the others had eaten already, while Kay had refused her meal.
"Come on, it's gishi fruit," Bill said. "It's really good. See?" He lifted a thin slice and ate it.
Kay blinked at him while a momentary flash of understanding lit bright-blue eyes. With shaking fingers, she reached out and grasped two slices of gishi fruit. They were gone quickly. Bill watched in satisfaction as Kay consumed the entire plate of fruit and licked her fingers afterward.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
"I don't want to talk or offer you a drink or anything else. Just leave," I said. Hank and Jayson stood inside my kitchen, expecting to be waited on, just as they had been all evening.
"About Trina's car," Jayson began.
"Do not renege on that, Jayson Rome," I fumed, "or I swear I'll stuff your head in the toilet."
"No—I'm offering an upgrade, if you'll sign a release for that story you told Ross Gideon the other night. He wants to include it in the magazine article we're running on the Everett Williams book. Dad told me to ask you."
"Is that all?" My hands were on my hips. "I don't care about that," I flung up a hand. "Do whatever you want, Jayson. Just go home."
"Bree, when will you stop being mad? At both of us?" Hank asked. "I know we hurt you. We're not about to expose you to anything you don't want. Can't we be friends, at least?" His dark eyes were pleading with me, and I had no idea why he was bothering. He could get any woman he wanted, who'd allow him to do whatever he wanted. I was a poor stand-in for any of that. An inexperienced fuck buddy—that's all I'd been to him.
"Hank, I'm nothing to you. Admit it," I said. "I'll have Terry rip up the contract. You're no longer obligated. The club's yours. All yours." I turned away.
"Bree, stop saying that. I want my friend back. I want the teasing, the jokes and all the other stuff. I enjoy it. I've never gotten along better with anybody. Even the best sub I know couldn't compare to you."
"Don't ever compare me to that," I shuddered. I was so close to tears, and crying would be disastrous. For all of us.
"Yeah. I see that." Hank reached out before dropping his hand. I'd stepped away from him. Even the smallest amount of moisture and he'd be sorry he'd ever met me. That's the way it had always been. I'd learned not to weep around others at a very early age.
"Bree, just agree to work with me on this. Try to keep an open mind. Please. I know you're afraid, and I know you won't talk to me about why that is. This is me. Hank. You weren't afraid while we worked on the club together."
I didn't point out that he hadn't been honest with me. I berated myself for not reading him again. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Some cosmic comedian had seen to it that I'd be continuously set up for disappointment. Love? That belonged to somebody else. Never to me.
"Will you try? Even Jayson has agreed to lay off for a while. It's not fair to parade you around as his girlfriend, when there's absolutely nothing in it for you."
"You got that right." My shoulders drooped.
"Bree, why don't you meet me at Bogey's for dinner tomorrow night. My assistant manager takes care of the club on Sunday nights, because it's usually a slow night. He has my number if he needs me, and the club isn't far away."
"Hank, you don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"We're the fish and bird," I said. "There's no place where we can coexist."
"I don't believe that," he said.
"Living in the state of denial instead of the state of California?" I asked.
"Bree, just come, have dinner with me and we'll talk. If you want to insult me, go ahead. If you want to insult Jayson, I'll bring him along."
"Leave asshole Rome at home," I said. "I've had enough of him the past week."
"Hey, now," Jayson objected. I have no idea why.
"Jayson will stay away. My work will remain separate from us. I promise."
"So we'll ju
st pretend it doesn't exist? That's ludicrous," I said.
"No, we'll ignore it. Like I'm ignoring what happened in Somalia. If I thought too long about that and how much danger you were probably in, I might have a heart attack."
"Hank, I can take care of myself," I whispered, my arms wrapped tightly around my ribs. They ached from sobs I refused to release. "Go home. What time do you want to meet tomorrow?" I'd agree if it would get him and Jayson out of the house. I wanted to cry and I couldn't do it anywhere near them.
"Be there at seven, baby." Hank turned and pulled Jayson out the door, closing it softly behind him.
* * *
"Two girls, missing from Georgetown University," Bill's assistant laid a folder on Bill's desk. "Looks like that campus killer in San Francisco moved to D.C."
"Not good," Bill opened the folder and stared at the top photograph of a nineteen-year-old college student.
"FBI is asking for our help," his assistant added as Bill examined the second photograph of a twenty-year-old.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
I felt cold and an overwhelming weariness enveloped me as I stood outside Bogey's for fifteen minutes, warring with my emotions. A part of me wanted to walk away forever, but that wouldn't be easy. Hank knew where I lived—Jayson had seen to that, the asshole. Another part of me wanted to tell Hank off and then walk away forever. Another, wounded part of me wanted Hank. That's all—just him. The smarter, logical part of my brain was busy beating up the hurt portion, when it was already bloodied. Hank was what he was, and I could never compete or come to terms with that. The best I could do was call some sort of truce and let him go.
"Baby, come inside. You're shaking." Hank grasped my icy hand in his and led me inside the bar.
"Bring a glass of Riesling," Hank told our waiter as he led me to his regular booth.
In minutes, I had a glass of Riesling and he had his usual old fashioned set in front of us.
"Baby, I want you to tell me what's wrong," Hank began. His dark eyes were searching my face for clues, but there wasn't any way I'd give those secrets to anyone.
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