He was right; it was grainy, black and white. Hunter couldn’t make out much. “Let’s look at the other feeds. He had to leave sometime.”
The manager gave him a smile, clearly enjoying the intrigue. He and the security manager had spent another two hours going through all the camera feeds. They never saw him leave.
Meirta and Hunter were now sitting at an outdoor café along the harbor. He placed the one photo of their rogue on the table. “This is the only image we could get. What do you think?”
Meirta took a sip of wine and turned the picture towards the light, trying to get a better look at the image. “I don’t know. Maybe he was just a nice guy who helped her.” She twirled her fork around, speared through a slice of kangaroo meat. “She was a child actress with an abusive father. It could be something just clicked with this man.” Meirta chewed, clearly savoring the taste. “It doesn’t mean he’s our rogue.”
“How can you eat that?” He wasn’t an adventurous eater. A cheeseburger was pretty much a cheeseburger no matter where you got it. She gave him a shrug and cut another slice. “What kind of country eats their national emblem?” He went back to his cheeseburger. “You’re right, he could be just a nice guy, but I think it is our rogue.”
“Say this Anson is our rogue; why didn’t he kill her?”
Hunter had asked himself the same question. There was a clear trail of dead bodies from the mine collapse through the Western territories of Australia. Not as many as the mine, but a man here and there drained of blood all the way to Sydney. Interestingly, all the men were less than reputable, and from what he could gather most of the communities they resided in were happy to be rid of them. He looked at Harvey, who was watching a group of children playing on the harbor rails.
“Do you have any thoughts on the rogue?” Hunter asked.
Harvey slowly turned his head towards him. Hunter still had a difficult time feeling comfortable around vampires. Though they looked just like him, they were not like him. Hunter had seen the movie Westworld as a kid. He’d had nightmares for weeks afterwards. Vampires gave him that same visceral fear as Yul Brynner had in his role as the cowboy robot.
“Can you tell from a photo if he is a vampire?” Hunter asked.
“No.” Harvey’s voice was higher than you’d expect. “But he moves like one of us.”
Harvey had watched some of the footage with the security manager. Hunter thought back, trying to remember how the man had moved.
“He’s learning,” Harvey said, interrupting Hunter’s thoughts.
“What?” Hunter asked.
“You were asking why he didn’t kill the human woman.”
Harvey had an annoying habit of making a statement and then not elaborating on that statement.
“Learning what?”
Meirta rolled her eyes at him. “What would you do if you hadn’t eaten in a week?”
“I’d eat everything in sight.”
“Exactly,” Meirta said. “If our rogue was trapped without food, he’d eat anything in sight. Once his hunger was sated, he’d need to learn about where he is.”
“It’s what I would do,” Harvey interjected. “If I didn’t know anything, I’d find someone of power.”
“Audrey Moon is not someone of power. She’s a...” Hunter searched for the word.
“You’re such a snob.” Meirta slapped his arm. “She is rich and famous.”
“She might have been the best he could find.” Harvey went back to watching the children play.
“So what now?” Hunter didn’t like the way he looked at the children. Harvey had been very helpful, but Hunter didn’t care for him.
“I have to go.”
“Why?” Not that Hunter wanted Harvey to stay. “It won’t be dawn for hours.”
“He has to go back to America, because he can’t stay here much longer. There aren’t many vampires in this region, but he is encroaching on their territory.” Meirta placed her hand on Harvey’s forearm. “Thanks for your help. Tell Merlin what we’ve found out so far.”
With a nod he was gone. Hunter looked around to see if anyone had noticed a tall, dark-haired man leave at superhuman speed, but no one had.
“Do you trust him?” Hunter asked.
“Harvey? Yeah, he’s fine,” she replied.
“Is it just me, or has Merlin been a bit strange lately?”
Meirta was watching the children; he could only see her in profile now. She was lovely in this light. He waited for her to say something, but she did not.
He changed the subject. “What about the vampires who live here? Could they tell us anything?”
She exhaled loudly, clearly in exasperation at his lack of knowledge. “We can’t risk contacting them. They’d want to know why we are here.”
He could tell she didn’t want to talk anymore. So he swirled his fries in ketchup and tried to think what a vampire who’d been imprisoned for centuries would do next. Maybe this was nothing more than a string of strange murders. Not everything was about vampires and the gates. Who knew, maybe the gates weren’t even real. He certainly had his doubts. He and Meirta had planned to ride over in the plane with Krieger and the others, but at the last minute Hunter had discovered the news about the murders and wanted to investigate. The king knew that Grigori wasn’t the rogue. Hunter’s old copper sense told him that much. He looked down at the photo; at least they had this, whatever it was worth.
The fact was there hadn’t been anymore murders since the rogue arrived in Sydney. And that an American actress had met and, it would seem, housed a man who was able to take away her addiction to drugs. The security manager said that she was a suspected heroin addict. Hunter knew that a vampire could trance away memories and perceptions. It would be possible for him to have taken away her desire for drugs. No wonder she was searching for him. Hunter wanted it to be harder somehow, but his gut told him that this was their man. Where would the rogue go from here?
He placed his hand on Meirta’s thigh. She’d been distracted ever since they’d arrived. First Merlin was acting strange and now Meirta. “What is it?” he asked.
She gave him a Mona Lisa smile and blinked her vivid green eyes, but said nothing. The intensity of love he felt for her was rooted deep inside him. They would have their arguments, and in the future she might decide he wasn’t what she wanted, but he would never stop loving her. Whatever was bothering her would remain a mystery to him. Later perhaps she would share.
“How far could he travel?”
Meirta thought for a moment. “Can I see the map?”
Hunter had a file folder of information with him. He pulled out a map of the world and a map of Australia, both printed off the internet.
“He won’t stay here. I mean, if he is what Henry pulled from the gates then he’d want to find Lily or go back to the places he knew.” She ran her fingers over the countries on the world map.
If their rogue was the darkness that slipped through the gates then he would be seeking his daughter, Lily. Pity she could not be used to lure him in. If only he could dangle Lily into the metaphorical waters like a juicy worm to entice the rogue to surface. “Lily and MENA are west.”
“MENA?” Meirta placed her hand over his.
“Sorry, Middle East North Africa. It’s jargon from my law enforcement days. I would assume he’d go in this direction.” Hunter moved his finger across the islands of Indonesia and Thailand. “Could he fly directly from here to, say, South Africa?”
“Maybe at full strength, but…” Meirta took a sip of wine. “If he worked his way up and through the islands like you showed then he could feed and learn more along the way.”
Hunter pulled out and sifted through the photos of the artifacts on display at the British Museum.
“I hate to leave here, but I think our Anson is gone.” Meirta seemed sad.
“We can come back on our honeymoon.” Hunter made his eyebrows jump and flashed his most charming smile. “That is if you’ll ever agree to marry
me.”
“You know you really are a big goof.”
“As long as I’m your goof.” He leaned in and kissed her, tasting the wine from her lips.
“Let’s get back to work. We don’t want to upset the humans.”
“Absolutely not, the humans must not be upset. Work.” Hunter placed the photos side by side on the table.
Unless there were any more leads to follow, they needed to go on to London and visit Dr. Toolley of the British Museum. Toolley’s family had donated the items for an exhibit called The Treasures of Ur. Toolley’s grandfather was a noted archeologist in the early twentieth century and had excavated a site in Basrah. Lily thought there might be a clue to the gates in the pieces not on display. Hunter thought it would be good for him and Meirta to take a trip and offered to do the foot work.
Meirta was only half-listening to him. He’d already asked her if something was wrong and gotten no response. He wracked his brain trying to figure out what could be bothering her. Maybe it was going back to England.
“Are you looking forward to seeing London again?” he asked. “Do you miss it?”
Meirta had worked closely with the Elder and lived at the Legacy Foundation. Hunter remembered the day he’d stood outside the Legacy Foundation debating whether or not he should enter. He’d received an invitation, placed inside his home, to meet with the Elder. From the moment the door had opened and the doorman, Mathers, had directed him into the enormous atrium-like room to meet the ethereal Elder, he’d not regretted his decision to join the Other World. The ring he wore on his finger was a gift from Huthwiat. He’d said it was to show the Others that he was a valued member of the community though he was only human. Lately, he wondered if that had been true. Was there another purpose to the ring? Perhaps he would never know as now both the Elder and the Legacy Foundation were no more.
“No. What about you?”
“It was a lifetime ago and one without you.” God, I’m sappy tonight.
“What do you say we pay the tab and get out of here?”
“I’d say that’s an excellent idea.” He was praising himself for having exchanged enough money to pay in cash when Meirta grabbed his wrist.
“Hunter?” She leaned forward, looking at his hand.
“What?” Hunter followed her eyes down to the ring; it was glowing, just slightly. Not enough to light a room, but enough to cast a small glow. Nervous suddenly, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching them.
“Do you feel anything?”
He didn’t want to talk about it, not here, not out in the open. “No.”
“Why do you still wear it?”
I wish I wasn’t. “No choice. I can’t get it off. Huthwiat must have sealed it on somehow. I asked Merlin about it.”
“And?” Meirta tugged his arm. “What did he say?”
“Gibberish, you know how he is. He wanted to try some sort of a spell. I’d rather keep it on.”
“Chicken,” she teased.
“Absolutely,” he replied thankful that she hadn’t pressed the subject. He didn’t want her to worry or know how uneasy he felt about the ring, and more disturbing, how it made him feel.
She was rearranging the sugar packets on the table into groupings of the same color. Even in Australia they had the pink ones, the yellow ones, and pure sugar in the appropriately colored white packets. “I think we’ll find something useful in London.”
Wouldn’t Huthwiat have known about the tablets? If they were important, he would have put them in the foundation. Before he could voice his thoughts, Meirta leaned back in her chair and gave him one of her megawatt smiles.
“Perhaps he did know about them. The Elder did nothing without a purpose.” Her smile slipped as she realized her mistake. “Sorry, being around so many humans makes it difficult to keep my mind from wandering. I just picked it out of your thoughts.”
Meirta was one of the rarest types of Others, a Minder, able to read human thoughts. Given their relationship, his thoughts were probably flashing constantly in her head like the neon signs of Times Square.
“What am I thinking now?” He knew she was tired, and preoccupied with something. It just wouldn’t do to get upset about her abilities.
She lifted her eyebrow. “You want me to kiss your Pope ring?”
The Elder’s ring was glowing again but right now he didn’t care. “Try further south.”
“Oh.” She batted her eyelashes and grinned mischievously. “I think that can be arranged.”
Lily
“You look nice,” Lily exclaimed as Krieger strode into the room.
He was wearing a charcoal three-pieced suit with a gunmetal gray tie that matched his eyes, and his hair was pulled back. The words ‘beautiful savage’ came to mind as she remembered a night that seemed like years ago when she’d watched him bathing in his Roman bath. How the water had beaded down his muscles as he’d walked out of the water and taunted her with his male beauty.
“As do you.” She could almost feel where his eyes slipped over the velvet gown of royal blue that fit her like a second skin. “I could hear the two of you in my rooms.” He closed the door and cut his eyes to Lucien. “You should be getting dressed.”
“I was keeping her company.” Lucien, who’d been making her laugh moments earlier, was suddenly sullen.
“Did you know that the fruit of the Banyan tree is said to give life? That it has magical properties?” Lily asked, lying on her stomach in front of the fire with a grouping of old books spread around her.
“It seems the archives are not the only books which speak to her,” Lucien explained. “She wanted to see the castle’s library.”
“Aren’t there similar stories about the apple, the pomegranate and…” Krieger leaned back on his heels, thinking. “A magical bean?”
Lily laughed. “I loved that story as a kid.” She sat up, wrapping the long skirt of her gown around her legs. “It would be nice if this place had central heating.” She moved the old books around like playing cards until one with a cracked leather cover appeared. “This one,” she said in a fake-serious tone, “has meeting notes dating back centuries.” She licked her index finger and turned the pages. “Ah, here it is.” She stopped and pointed to the page. “This entry talks about you being appointed king.”
“This is why women weren’t taught to read,” Lucien joked. “I hope all your exploits aren’t written there.”
“You.” She playfully flung a notepad at Lucien who caught it in midair.
Krieger didn’t laugh. “I’ll see to Lily now,” he said to Lucien.
She felt the chill between them and gave Lucien her warmest smile before he left. Not willing to let her festive mood slip away she tried to engage Krieger with banter. “So what kind of exploits would there be in these books?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He slowly stalked towards her. “Maybe how I took a beautiful maid with hair the color of white silk up into my tower.” And reached down, tickling her sides.
“Stop, please, stop.” She laughed so hard it was difficult to breathe.
“A kiss,” he bargained. “I require a kiss to stop.”
“Okay, okay.” She rolled away from him as he jumped towards her. “No, really, please stop.”
“I’m waiting.” Krieger sat down and patted his knee.
His demeanor was playful but she wasn’t fooled. The intensity in his eyes was a yearning so palpable that it burned over her body, igniting her own neglected needs. Why have I resisted him so long?
“I’ll wrinkle your suit.”
“Do you think I care?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.
“No.” She’d never been the aggressor and was uncomfortable with the role. It was a little intoxicating taking control as she leaned in and found his lips.
Why it struck her at that particular moment, she had no idea, but the question took hold and had to be asked. “Do you visit the ouleds?” she whispered.
He leaned his head back and ran a for
efinger along her cheek. “You know that I have.”
“If we were together—”
His finger gently quieted her lips. “I give you my solemn vow that if we should become lovers no one will come between us.”
She was hoping for another kiss, but abruptly Krieger lifted her up with him as he stood and placed her by the fire. “What is it?” she asked.
“It seems we have a visitor.” He opened the door just as his guard was about to knock.
Grigori stepped forward and addressed Krieger, “I’d like to speak with your Sanguis Ancilla, if I may.”
“Yes,” Lily whispered, unable to take her eyes off him as he walked into the room.
“I have been told of your beauty.” Grigori bowed. “Their words did not do you justice.”
He looked like a college student, fresh faced, eager and ready to tackle the world. Her feet were glued to the floor and all she could manage was to dip her head at him.
“Thank you for seeing me.” Grigori glanced out the window and then back at her. “I’ve wanted to apologize about that night you were on the stairs. It was not my intention to scare you. You have no idea how I feared for you, that you’d been hurt.”
She shivered remembering that night at Waverly, her family estate, standing at the top of the conservatory steps and feeling the ghostly sensation of his icy fingers wrapping around her wrist just before she lost her balance and plunged to the bottom. “How?” It was all she could manage to say right now. There was an irrational urge to touch him just to make sure he was in the same room with her, but that was ludicrous because Krieger had brought him in. She knew without a doubt that Grigori was the man of her visions, and was equally sure he wasn’t the man of her dreams. How could that be? All this time she’d thought they were one and the same.
“I don’t know why or how you appeared to me. Standing encased in darkness staring down into what looked like a pit. I feared for you.” Grigori smiled apologetically. “I was a fool to try and touch you. I felt your warmth on my fingers and despaired when you wrenched away from me. I should have never have done that. I’m sorry for the panic I caused you. For the pain you must have endured as you fell.” He bowed again but kept his eyes on her. “Do you forgive me?”
The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) Page 10