“The photographer said he could have sold these, but he kept them in case Honey ever needed them. Then when she just disappeared, he hoped she had gotten away from the guy.”
“And he kept these?”
“Yeah. He’s got something against men who hit women. He said if these could damn the man in the photos, I could have them for free.”
“It’s damning enough for me.” Morgan breathed heavily through his nose. He itched to show Maplecourt what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of a pummeling.
Morgan closed his eyes to refocus. He looked down at the agenda. The next topic read ‘Smith.’
“Remi left with Honey. Does that mean he found out nothing on our Smith?” Morgan asked.
Julia pushed a piece of paper over to him. “Here’s Remi’s report. It looks like this Smith used to be a Kawasaki. They had some falling out apparently over a woman and money.”
“Isn’t that what it’s always about?” Joe scoffed.
“His family had been keeping tabs on him but lost track of him about five years ago They were appreciative that we reported a sighting. Apparently, they wanted to bring him back in. We didn’t tell them of his premature demise. From what Remi wrote, its sounds like they hinted at him being a fugitive and not some prodigal son.”
“And if this Smith was a fugitive that would have given Lazarus leverage against him.”
“It had to be pretty good leverage.”
“We’ll never know.”
Shane cocked an eyebrow at Morgan. Morgan coolly eyed him back. “Him or me. I chose me.”
“Anyway—” Julia cut in “—from what Remi reported, the Kawasakis are open to working with us if vampires are involved.”
“If vampires are involved and we start creating alliances with other families, that’s really going to look like we are making strategic maneuvers for some kind of war,” Dante interjected.
“That’s why we have to be smart about this. We have to find out exactly what’s going on.” Morgan responded.
“Isn’t that what your friend in Santa Maria said? Us making nice with the Aventines would have been reason enough to piss Lazarus off?”
“She also said it could be a gambit of his to distract the Del Fuego coven from his real intentions. We aren’t the target. We’re a tool. It’s in our best interest to build strategic alliances with other wolves, especially regionally, and to formalize our relationship with the local bloodsuckers,” Shane announced.
Everyone stopped and stared at him. “I’m not saying I will like it. I’m saying it’s the smart political move. Look, if Lazarus is somehow actually back from the dead, there are going to be as many unhappy bloodsuckers as wolves out there. Enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Shane looked around at everyone as they continued to stare at him. “Hey, not all bloodsuckers are bad. I will deny that if you try to quote me on it.”
“We need some talented negotiators and natural ambassadors,” Julia said.
“Speaking of ambassadors, how are relations going with Aventine?” Dante waggled his eyebrows at Julia. She shot him a loaded glare.
“Actually, having Aventine with us on this is going to be very beneficial. Roman is a very skillful negotiator and has a growing reputation that’s almost the polar opposite of his father’s. While his father hasn’t stepped down officially, he hasn’t taken an active interest in their business or family since his wife got sick. We can use him to our benefit. Besides Carolyn, is about to deliver, and she would be the person we have best suited for that role.”
Morgan nodded his head. “We need calm wolves with business know-how for negotiating with vampires. Let’s give that to Remi. He’ll know who would be best suited for this kind of job. Heck, if we have to train someone for the job of vampire ambassador, he’ll know who we need to groom.”
Julia leaned forward to address the group again. “Now about establishing connections with other families. Remi opened the door for me with the Kawasakis, and I’ve had promising email correspondence with a family out of South Africa and some other more local families. Now that we have this DNA evidence situation, this outreach initiative needs to be stepped up.” She rapped her knuckles on the table. “We need to find out who we have north of us. See if the Nevada group will talk. They like to pretend they don’t exist. What’s our end game? I think it’s changed. Before it was a matter of being formally aware and acknowledging each other, but now I think we need to consider spearheading the foundation of some kind of alliance.”
“That’s exactly what needs to happen. We also have to find and bring in all our Smiths. At least, make them aware that this now exists,” Morgan added.
“This DNA situation,” Julia said, “has us concerned on two fronts. We need to be able to access the database information so we can keep our information safe, and we need to start educating, not just the Smiths, but other branches of the family.” She pointed at Dante and Joe. “That’s what I’ve got these bozos working on.”
“I resemble that remark,” Dante smirked.
“Seriously, though,” Joe interjected. “We’ve been working on filling out the family tree with Remi, Dante’s mom, and Nan as much as either of us can get out of her. We have missing branches. So far I have confirmed and traced back everyone who has been through the school. Fortunately, that’s not a lot, and their genealogy lines are clean. We’re compiling a list of who and when family lines seem to have broken or ended. The plan is to contract PIs and lawyers for remote groundwork as needed, and pound the pavement for whatever is left.”
Dante continued. “Fortunately, someone started keeping really tight records a few years back and made sure they passed that task on through the years. Julia asked me to start organizing our methods into easily followable chunks. I’m guessing that’s so we can share a step-by-step process with others as we build alliances?”
“Exactly,” Julia interjected. “I want us to be able to show to other families, in good faith, that we are serious about information sharing and containment. Just as Aventine shared the discovery with us, we need to share our processes with others.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a contact at Aventine Industries.” Dante pulled a notepad from his back pocket, and flipped it open. “Winters. Dallas Winters. Apparently, he’s doing the same kind of thing as Joe and I. We are supposed to get together at some point and compare notes on our processes—what’s working and what’s not.”
“Good.” Morgan turned toward Julia. “Now how is our attempt at acquiring labs and getting a hold of database information progressing?”
“I’m stalled. I have a list of labs we can be ready to move on, but the board won’t budge until they hear your recommendation as CEO.”
“Do you have the list for me to look at?” Morgan asked.
“I emailed them to you, but I can get you printouts after we’re done here.”
“Good. That’ll work. We need to get moving on that. Anything else?”
“Yes. I’m jumping into this genome information business as hard and as fast as I can. I’ve got a list of conferences a mile long that I need to analyze to see which one will get us up to speed fastest, as well as which ones I need to attend and where.”
“Is it time to spin this into a new company or are we good keeping it under the umbrella of Truria?” Morgan asked.
Julia pursed her lips. “My thoughts are that it stays under Truria for now. I want to acquire existing companies and bring them in, not start from scratch. I have no plans to become the head of a genomics company, but I do need to know enough to ensure we have the right people on the board and running those operations.”
“Have we gotten anything from Aventine on this?”
“They are closing on SeaQuence, that lab you visited. Also working on an outreach program,” Julia pointed vaguely at Dante and Joe again, as she flipped through a yellow legal pad covered in her handwritten notes. “They’re already on that. Lab acquisition and just learning more regarding the whole genomics thing.” She
flipped to another page. “Yes. Your driver, the one you said was shot. He doesn’t exist. There are no records of a car being sent for you. No missing person report. Nothing. The receptionist at the lab doesn’t keep those kinds of records, and my note here says she just doesn’t remember. And I quote ‘People go in and out all day. You can’t expect me to remember them all.’ A real quality witness with that one.”
“Nothing?” Morgan asked incredulously.
“Nothing. And, no attempts or threats against Roman Aventine.”
“It might have been an isolated incident. Maybe. With two of Lazarus’s flunkies out of the picture, maybe it’s thrown him off his game.”
Morgan nodded. He wadded up the paper agenda in front of him. “Anything else?”
Shane nodded to him. “What’s your status right now?”
“Honestly?” Morgan asked.
“Honestly.”
“I’m not sure. I feel like I’ve dropped the ball on a few things. Ever since I met Honey, I feel like I’m messing things up with her.”
Shane chuckled. “She’s your mate isn’t she? That’s what’s throwing you off.”
Morgan sighed. “She is. Now to not scare her off. My first priority is to wrap up this project in Monterey. I can step away and not be on location; however, I am actively looking for a place down there. I’ll have to work remote for the time being.” Morgan stood, indicating he was done with the meeting. “I still want us all on a security alert. Julia, you have active bodyguards?”
She rolled her eyes and nodded.
“Good. Make sure you don’t ditch them.” Honey was his priority at the moment, but his family was his life. He couldn’t be there to protect everyone at the same time. He had to trust each one of them to do what they did best—take care of themselves and get the job done.
23
“Morgan told me you studied art,” Remi said as he led Honey into a part of the house she hadn’t visited before.
“Yeah, I studied Art History and Museum Gallery Management. I thought I would work in some exclusive gallery when I started. It seemed like a good fit, you know, former model in a gallery of art. It sounds so superficial now. Of course, by the time I graduated, I really wanted to work in the Modern Art Museum. Now I sling coffee.”
Remi slowed down so that Honey could walk next to him. “I thought Morgan said you ran a rather bohemian gallery space. Did I misunderstand?”
She scoffed. “It is very bohemian. I am in charge of the rotating art show that’s on display in the coffee shop where I work. Not exactly what I’d call being a curator or anything.”
“Curating smaller shows counts, Honey. Don’t discount the work you do because it isn’t as grand as your expectations.”
They turned a corner and Honey stopped. Her jaw dropped as she pointed at the painting in front of her. She smiled in disbelief. “That’s Finney’s!”
“Yes, that is one of our newest pieces. I’m not sure it’s the investment our purchasing agent thinks it has the potential of being. Of course, I think our purchasing agent was coerced into buying it by Julia. She’s trying to convince Jinx to let her put it in her office. Says it speaks to her. Jinx seems to think Morgan wants it. I don’t know. It doesn’t strike me as Morgan’s style.”
So much for intrigue and subterfuge. It wasn’t obscure royalty who’d purchased the painting, but Morgan. And she thought he didn’t like abstract expressionism. Lana was right. There was so much more to Morgan than Honey ever would have guessed just by looking at him wearing a plaid work shirt.
“What is Morgan’s style?” Honey asked, realizing she didn’t really know a lot of the little details about Morgan. She knew how he made her feel and that was enough.
“Why, he prefers mid-century realism. He has an original Diego Rivera hanging in his suite. Has he not shown you yet?” Remi asked. “His first degrees are in Art History and Architecture. He liked to make big art when he was a child. I honestly never expected him to continue on to build buildings.”
Honey laughed to herself. No wonder Morgan knew about abstract expressionism. He must have found her to be very entertaining when she spouted her praise of Frieda Kahlo when he had an original Diego Rivera.
Remi continued, “Of course, with his family already owning a small construction firm, it makes sense looking back that Morgan would take what he had and combine it with what he loves. He’s turned Seven Hills into the foremost earthquake-proof foundation experts in Northern California. He works with top architecture firms and gets to tell other designers what will and won’t work.”
They turned another corner into a wide gallery space. Honey caught her breath and stared in amazement. The space wasn’t large, but the art it held was impressive and very old.
Honey was inexplicably drawn to a small painting in an elaborate gold and black frame. The painting delicately portrayed the Virgin Mary, a baby Jesus, and an angel. Honey covered her mouth in awe. Mary had blond wavy hair, a round face with delicate features, small mouth, small chin. The baby Jesus figure, pudgy and pink, smiled happily. The cherub was equally pudgy, but his expression was more knowing, worldly. All three figures were crowned with a barely visible arch of a halo. The quality of the paint made it appear as if the figures glowed from within. The paint application appeared practically smooth with nearly invisible paint strokes. Age had crackled the paint in areas, but overall the image was well preserved. Clearly, this painting had been cared for its entire long existence.
“She’s a beauty isn’t she?” Remi asked. “She pulls everyone in their first time here.”
“God, this is from the Renaissance, isn’t it?” She looked to Remi for confirmation.
“That is the Renaissance. It’s credited to Raphael.”
“Raphael? The Raphael?” Honey turned her gaze back to the painting. She slowly eased forward, so she could examine it more closely. “No wonder we still study him today. This is unreal. There are depths within depths. This area right here—” she indicated with her finger a space just beyond Mary’s shoulder. “—there are color shifts in here that are practically subliminal. I could look at this for hours and still not truly see it. I can see how people spend years studying one painting. I never really understood that. Of course, I’ve never been this close to a masterpiece before.”
“Haven’t you been to Italy?”
“Yeah, but that was before I paid attention to art, really. I mean we saw stuff, but whenever I was there, it was to work not to study art. I feel like I wasted my time over there now. This is amazing.”
“Well, we have several pre-Raphaelites you might be interested in as well.” Remi backed up indicating to Honey she should move on to admire the rest of the collection.
As she turned, a medium-sized bronze sculpture at the end of the gallery caught her attention. Her hand instinctively went to her charm. She reverently walked up to the statue of the large wolf. She-wolf, Honey corrected herself. The wolf stood on all four paws. She appeared to have whelped recently. Her expression was one of concerned awareness, jaws slack and ears pricked forward. Waves of longer fur created repeating patterns around the head and neck of the sculpture.
“Capitoline Wolf. She’s beautiful. Didn’t I read something where they found she isn’t Etruscan as they originally thought but a medieval work? This is really detailed for a replica. And it’s amazingly old.” Honey inched her face closer to look at the detail work in the fur pattern.
“The one in the museum is medieval. It’s the replica. This one is the original. And it is Etruscan. It’s been in our family since it was first commissioned.”
Honey’s head snapped to Remi. “What? How?”
Remi chuckled, a low rumbling sound. “How much do you know about ancient Rome, Honey?”
“Not a lot,” she confessed.
“Sit.” Remi indicated a low bench in the middle of the gallery, a few feet from the wolf statue. Honey sat so she could continue to look at the sculpture. “What do you know about her,” Remi as
ked, nodding towards the statue.
“The Capitoline Wolf. Etruscan. Bronze. Uhm, Art History don’t fail me now,” she muttered to herself. “She’s the mythological wolf that suckled Remus and Romulus, the twin founders of Rome, right?”
Remi nodded. “Very good. What else do you know about Remus and Romulus?” He was using his teacher’s voice. Honey noticed a subtle difference in intonation and inflection.
“Nothing. Didn’t one of them kill the other?” she asked.
“The story of Remus and Romulus is more than the founding myth of Rome. It’s our family history.”
Honey raised her eyebrows at Remi, not quite in disbelief, but questioning surprise.
Remi’s lecture voice was soothing, and it drew her in. “Numitor, an Etruscan king of the city-state Alba Longa had a beautiful daughter. Rhea Silvia attracted many suitors, including the gods themselves.”
As Remi spoke, Honey conjured up pictures of men in tall sandals and short togas. All the buildings looked like temples of white columns. She knew it wasn’t historically accurate, but it was the picture in her mind.
Remi continued to tell the tale of how Rhea Silvia’s father’s jealous brother, Amulius, wanted her and the city for himself. When Rhea Silvia refused him, Amulius took over the city, throwing Numitor in jail. Rhea Silvia continued to refuse Amulius’s advances, so he sentenced her to live as a Vestal Virgin. But she was no virgin. Rhea Silvia’s lover was the war god Mars.
Honey imagined a lithe, beautiful girl dressed in diaphanous cream and gold robes, with the elaborate hairstyle of seven braids of the Vestal Virgins clinging to a large tawny-skinned man. The Mars in her imagination wore red, had bulging muscles, and a big black beard. Rhea Silvia and Mars. She was beautiful, he was strong. As the story continued, the movie in Honey’s brain also continued.
Rhea Silvia became pregnant with Mars’s children. For breaking her vows of celibacy, she was sentenced to death. The twin sons she gave birth to were also sentenced to be killed. Amulius, afraid of the wrath of the war god, had them thrown into the river, thinking they would drown or the elements would be the end of them. The river god Tiberinus saved all three and brought them to the banks in the swamp at the base of the Palatine Hill.
Protective: Legatum - Book 1 Page 24