The Survivors Book IV: Spring
Page 31
"I would hardly call it ogling," he replied, giving her a debonair smile. "Admiring, perhaps. Please do not be offended, I just find you… refreshing." With a flick of his wrist, he distracted her by pointing her towards door of an office nearby. "And this is yours."
"Ah…" Her expression shifted, and her eyes lit up as she looked out across the space. Her teasing barbs forgotten, she rushed past him and hurried over to the windows to gaze out at the sprawling vista of Auckland that unfolded below them. "Beautiful. 'The City of Sails', indeed."
Luke meandered over to join her, and stared out the window as though seeing the city for the first time. In some ways, he was. He'd been in the country for a few years on assignment for his clan, and yet he'd never really taken the time to study his surroundings. After a century of living around the world, cities all started to look kind of the same.
Now, though, he found himself looking with unexpected interest. He took in the vibrant blue of the sky and the mysterious haze where it met the sparkling blue-green glass of the ocean. The city followed the curve of the harbour in a gentle arc; beyond that, he could see the shimmering gold of distant beaches. Closer at hand, the water was peppered with tiny boats in a hundred different colours – the very boats that gave the city its official moniker.
"Yes, it is an impressive view," he agreed, surprised by his own reaction. As though seeing the world with new eyes, he found himself wondering why he'd never noticed the vista before. Surely it had been there all along, and yet he'd laboured on without ever casting his eye out over the city in which he lived. He found that fact both confusing and intriguing.
"So, who gave up the office with the view for me to move in?" she said, rounding on him. The directness of her question and the hunger for knowledge in her eyes took him by surprise yet again, and forced him to take a moment to consider her question.
"One of the senior legal representatives retired a few months ago," he lied casually, lifting a shoulder in a lazy shrug. "She left the office empty, and you just happen to get lucky."
***
"Retired, hmm?" Claudia stared intently at the dark-haired young man, trying to figure him out. She knew that he was lying. It was written through his body language just as blatantly as if he had been wearing a neon sign on his forehead.
That wasn't to say he was a poor liar, though. He was an extremely good at it. Claudia, however, possessed the unnerving ability to read people like a book. It was a skill that she'd been training in since she was a child, and it had become second nature. She'd noticed it on him from the start; deception practically oozed from his pores.
And yet, she needed to be discreet if she wanted to call him out on it. He was her supervisor, after all.
Claudia turned away from him and rested her hands on the sill of the huge, open window, leaning forward until her nose almost touched the glass. Far below her, the bustle of Queen Street carried on unendingly, oblivious to them both. Behind her, Luke was silent and tense, awaiting her next move.
Somehow, a casual conversation had evolved into a verbal game of chess, player against player, each of them vying for dominance over the other. Although in some ways she had the upper hand, she suspected that he possessed knowledge that she wanted desperately, which made her vulnerable.
The never-ending quest for knowledge had driven her since she was a very small girl. Her ability to ferret out the truth in any situation was another facet of what made her so very good at her job – and it also made her extremely good at hiding the truth when she needed to, because she knew all the clues that she would look for if she were seeking something.
Her instinct told her that he knew something about her quarry. Perhaps he was one of them. They didn't think that she knew about them, but she did. The Immortelle - another presumptuous and arrogant name. She'd first heard the word when she was a child, while poking around uninvited in her mother's belongings. She wanted to know more.
Who were these mysterious Immortelle? What were they? And even more importantly, how were they relevant to her mother and to the father she'd never met?
The hunt had become an obsession. The more she looked, the harder it was to find reliable information. With every step forward, it felt like she was moving farther and farther away from the truth.
Luke was silent and still, watching her intently. It was her move.
Claudia spoke softly now, gently - casually, even. "I am of the understanding that she died. Suicide, I believe."
Her eyes flicked to him the moment she spoke, and she caught the sudden tension in his chiselled jaw and the narrowing of his eyes before he could hide his emotion. Those tiny signs told her so much more than he intended them to. They told her he was aware of the truth, and hadn't planned on telling her.
"It was all over the news," she said, turning back to the window and staring at the ground far below. She could only just see the spot where the body had landed, on an awning. There was still a dark patch there, either an indentation or blood – she didn't particularly want to know which.
"Yes," Luke said softly, though the tone of his voice told her he was reluctant to talk about it. "But, it's still your lucky break."
"Not hers, though." Claudia pushed herself away from the window and turned to look at him.
She longed to just ask him about the Immortelle and find out once and for all, but she knew that he would never admit the truth to her willingly. What little she had learned over the years had been hard-won, and ferreted out by subterfuge and stealth rather than direct questions. They were a secretive bunch. They looked just like she did – human – and yet she had learned that some of them could be hundreds or even thousands of years old.
She'd heard so many different names for them in her research. The Immortelle, the Cabal, the Führung in German, even the Illuminati – though she was dubious about the latter. They were a secret society like any other, of that much she was certain, except for one simple fact: this one actually existed. Claudia had come to the decision years ago that her mother was a member, and perhaps her father was as well, but her conclusion had come from overheard conversations and sneakily read emails rather than cold, hard facts.
It was the one secret that she had never been able to extract, and it was the one that drove her mad. Here, her research told her she might finally be able to find answers. Luke Cavenelli could very well be her means to that end.
"No, it wasn't." The young man sighed heavily and shook his head. "I'm sorry, it's just… the suicide is something of a sensitive topic around here at the moment, as I'm sure you can imagine. She was our colleague, and our friend. It took us all by surprise. We had no idea she was depressed at all."
"Of course." Claudia relaxed a little bit when he opened up to her. This time, there was an edge of honesty about his demeanour. "I understand. It must have been very traumatic for all of you."
"Yes." He summoned a faint smile for her benefit, but she could see the tension behind his eyes and knew instinctively that she'd touched on a raw nerve. To her surprise, she found herself wanting to comfort him. Although he had lied to her, there was good reason for it and she wasn't completely without sympathy.
"I'll tell you what," she suggested. "Why don't we go out for lunch today, and we can talk? My treat."
She was rewarded by the sight of his expression relaxing a bit, and then he gave her a nod. "That sounds good. There's an excellent sushi restaurant just downstairs."
"Good." She smiled vibrantly, the kind of smile that could light up a room. "Then it's a date."
About The Author
Born in Auckland, New Zealand, Victoria Dreyer began her career in the most peculiar of ways, as the writer and illustrator of graphic novels. Although her ultimate dream was always to become a novelist, she spent many years exploring other mediums before finally returning to the one she felt most comfortable with – the written word.
Ms Dreyer is a voracious reader, and in addition to the post-apocalyptic genre she also enjoys reading and writi
ng science fiction, modern fantasy, and the paranormal romance genres.
She currently resides in West Auckland with several flatmates, a large collection of books, and a pack of very spoiled cats.
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