by I. T. Lucas
Smart.
"We had an informant. Not in the programming unit, but somewhere higher up in the defense department. I can't give you a name, though, or even a description, because I never dealt with the guy. The info went to my superior first, and he passed it down to me."
Andrew's brows furrowed. "You guys managed to bribe someone high ranking in the defense department? These people have to go through an extensive vetting process, and I'm sure their finances are closely monitored."
Dalhu shrugged. "I wasn't privy to that kind of information. I was just a field commander of a small unit. But from what I've gathered over the years, there are several ways the Brotherhood goes about it. The best is to raise a mole from the ground up. The Brotherhood recruits promising young boys, who are then brainwashed into supporting whatever cause they invent for them. The recruiters then help them and their families in ways that are hard to detect—ensuring the parents get well-paying jobs, and the boys and their siblings get scholarships to the best universities. Then the Brotherhood waits patiently for them to climb up the ranks. Eventually, a few of the many that were nurtured make it to critical positions."
Andrew whistled. "That's a very long-term approach. Makes sense, though, time considerations are different for immortals."
Kian got up to refill his glass. "And the other methods?"
"The run-of-the-mill bribes and blackmails."
"Go on. So what happened next?" Kian asked.
Damn, now was the part Dalhu was dreading. "We had the name of the civilian programming unit—the one masquerading as a gaming company—but their offices had the kind of security we had no chance of breaching. And we had no idea who their top programmer was. So we surveyed the building and followed them around for a couple of days. Until one evening, they all went to celebrate at a bar. From there it was easy. Pinpointing the one they were all saluting, following him home, and taking him out."
As Dalhu cast a longing look at Kian's drink, he couldn't help but notice the guy's fingers tightening around the glass. Any moment, the thing would shatter in his hand.
"And no one stopped to question him before killing him? You had an untrained male from your enemy's clan. Why waste such rare opportunity?" Andrew asked.
"We didn't know he was one of yours. And the guy sent after him had his orders. Fortunately for you, Doomers don't question their orders. Otherwise, your location would have been already compromised."
Although true, he regretted his choice of words. To use the word fortunate in this context had been a mistake. Except, he wasn't a diplomat, and his mastery of the English language didn't include a rich vocabulary.
Judging by the baleful expression on Kian's face, Dalhu wouldn't live long enough to expand it either,
"Indeed." Andrew cast a somber glance at Kian. "I'm sorry for your loss, Kian, but at least the man hadn't been tortured. True?" He pinned Dalhu with a hard stare.
"Just fangs and venom." Dalhu glanced briefly at Kian and felt a pang of guilt.
And envy.
Kian, the leader of Annani's clan, wasn't just angry about losing a great programmer, he was mourning the guy's death. In contrast, no one ever gave a damn about a Doomer's demise.
No one would mourn Dalhu.
Still, the fact was that the clan got more than even. "You took out eleven of mine and have me down here. I think your loss has been avenged."
Damn, it was again the wrong thing to say. Kian looked ready to tear out his throat. "Just do yourself a favor, Doomer, and don't try to equate the two. Clear?" he hissed through his fangs.
As much as Dalhu hated the supercilious jerk, Kian was right. It wasn't the same. Unlike Dalhu and his men, the programmer had not been a fighter. Dalhu bowed his head. "My apologies, you are right."
That seemed to somewhat mollify the guy, and the dangerous glow in his eyes subsided. "How did you know where to find Amanda, though?"
"My men found a framed article about Amanda's research, with a personal dedication from her to the programmer. When they brought it back to me, I had a hunch she was related to the guy and decided to check it out. The presence of Guardians at her lab confirmed my suspicion. But running into her that day on the street was purely coincidental."
A very lucky, fated coincidence.
Kian's face hardened. "How did you know it was her? Did you sense she was an immortal?"
"No, of course not. There is no way to detect immortal females…" Dalhu paused as he remembered that he had been compelled to follow Amanda even before recognizing her. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. I knew her face from the picture in the article, but I felt the urge to go after her even though all I saw was her retreating back. And not only because she is exquisite from any angle."
The mortal eyed him with open curiosity. "What made you run and leave everything you knew behind, instead of delivering her to your leader?"
"First of all, I would have never handed over an immortal female to my brethren. Second, would you have done differently?"
The guy chuckled. "Good point. Though I'm not in the habit of abducting women when they refuse to come willingly."
Yeah, the human probably had no trouble finding willing candidates for his affections. Still… "You also have no shortage of possible mates, there are probably millions of them in this city alone. I, on the other hand, had this one and only chance, and I was not going to let it get away, even if it went against my own code of honor."
"Wasn't aware Doomers had any…" Kian gritted.
"First of all, I'm no longer a Doomer. And second, honor is subjective. And even those who others consider monsters sometimes cling to their own notion of honor."
Kian wasn't impressed. "Good, I see you have no delusions as to what you are."
The condescending prick.
"I might be a monster, but I would have never treated my own sister the way you did yours. No matter what."
As Dalhu's barb hit home, Kian's wince was deeply satisfying.
"We are getting off track here, guys." Andrew raised his palm to halt Kian's retort. "So what happened next?"
Dalhu rubbed his neck. "After the first team encountered Guardians at Amanda's lab, the same night I sent another to search it for clues. They found her journal, which I learned a lot from."
Kian snorted. "Yeah, like the names of her top test subjects, which you tried to snatch."
"Yes. But also that you guys adhere to the old taboo against in-line mating, and with no Dormants of other lines, are all the descendants of one female. Which finally explained your age-old tactic of hiding instead of facing the Brotherhood head on. There just aren't enough of you."
"So, you decided it wouldn't be all that difficult to hunt us into extinction." The hatred wafting of off Kian was not only pungent but felt like a tangible force—pervasive and oppressive.
Not that Dalhu could fault the guy. He sighed. "Actually, my first response was a grudging respect. Achieving all that you had with so few members is damn impressive."
Kian shifted in his chair. "Glad you approve," he hissed.
"Not at all. In my opinion, you're wasting your efforts. Mortals are not worth it, their herd mentality is ill-suited for democracy. They're better off being led and controlled. But this is neither here nor there. Anyway, after being bested by your Guardians time and again, I did some thinking and figured that their presence indicated a clan stronghold somewhere around LA. But to find it I didn't need to catch a Guardian. Any immortal would do. And where better to hunt for immortal males than the places they frequent hunting for hookups—bars and clubs. But as there are hundreds of those in this city, I needed more men to conduct an adequate search."
Andrew frowned. "But from what you've said before, your superiors were not sending you more men to command, but replacing you with a higher ranking officer."
CHAPTER 34: KIAN
The Doomer chuckled. "I knew they wouldn't leave such an important mission to me, but I hoped to get credit for the idea, maybe even a larger and
better-trained unit under my command."
Kian didn't know if he hated the guy more or less for his dispassionate recounting, or for being so absolutely, fucking honest. Andrew's foot hadn't tapped even once, and he'd been watching the thing like a hawk.
Plotting the demise of Kian's family had been just a job for the Doomer, an assignment, an opportunity for advancement. The guy was a cold, opportunistic bastard, nothing more.
What the hell did Amanda see in that thing?
And yet, the Doomer wasn't cold when it came to her. That sketch, more than anything he might have said, proved that the guy not only had feelings for Amanda but had somehow gotten to know her pretty damn well in the short time he'd had her. And not only in the biblical sense.
And what's worse, Kian had to admit, if grudgingly, that a soulless creature couldn't have imbued his rendering of Amanda with so much life, emotion, and insight.
Andrew touched his phone to stop the recording and got up. "I'm ready for a drink. What can I get you, Dalhu?"
The Doomer looked grateful. "Whatever you're having."
Andrew glanced at Kian. "A refill?"
"Yeah." He got up and handed Andrew his empty glass.
What an asset the guy was turning out to be. How had he managed all this time without him? Andrew practically took over the interrogation and was doing a much better job than Kian would have done.
Evidently, there was something to be said for emotional distance—or maybe proper training.
Dalhu drained his glass, and Andrew poured him another before going back to his chair.
"Okay, let's move on to your fascinating home base." Andrew touched his phone's screen to restart the recording.
"I assume the Goddess has told you what I've told her."
"Yes, we know about the Brotherhood's underground facility, and the world-class brothel your leader runs on the other side of that island. From what I understood, the security is extremely tight, but I want to hear more. Everything from facts to suspicions to guesses. No place is air-tight. There must be a way to infiltrate the island."
With Andrew conducting the questioning, Kian leaned back in his chair, not at all minding being relegated to the role of a passive observer.
As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to be gained from this line of questioning anyway.
He wasn't planning on storming his enemy stronghold, no matter how much he despised Doomers, or how much he pitied the enslaved females—mortal and Dormant alike. It just wasn't feasible, and Kian wasn't in the habit of indulging in make-believe scenarios.
"A single human may have a chance, but not an immortal." Dalhu looked at Andrew. "The immortal guards would sniff another immortal right away, he wouldn't get through the first line of security. And although the only way to get in, which is even remotely conceivable, would be as a client, I have no idea how one would go about getting an invitation, or even being in the know."
"Who are the typical customers?"
"The rich, powerful and corrupt. From all over the world."
"That doesn't tell me much, could you be more specific?"
"It's not as if I went around asking questions and mingling with the guests. But the girls aren't required to be as tight-lipped with the soldiers as they are with the other clients, and they like nothing more than a piece of juicy gossip. Then again, it's not like the johns introduce themselves by name and title. From what I've garnered, though, they are a diversified crowd; drug lords, arms dealers, oil tycoons, officers of large corporations, politicians, judges, professors, and even the occasional royal."
Andrew frowned. "I bet that it isn't only money your leader collects from his distinguished clientele. Information and favors most likely bring an even greater profit."
No doubt.
Kian was starting to wonder if he hadn't deluded himself over the years, thinking the clan had at least a financial advantage over the Doomers. From what Dalhu was telling them, it seemed Navuh created his own fountain of gold.
But again, although enlightening, the information was useless. "Where are you going with this, Andrew? It's not like we can do anything about it. Even if we can get a mortal in there, what could one guy do?"
"Information, as I've said before, is priceless. And you need as much of it as you can get because you never know when it would become handy. Knowing who the Brotherhood has in its pockets is in itself vital. And even if we can't do anything to help the women already trapped there, maybe we can do something about the supply end of it."
Apparently, there was such a thing as an information addiction, and Andrew had it bad. "I'm sorry, Andrew, but from where I stand, the risk is not worth the potential gain. To me anyway. Our clan is not the government."
Andrew's brows drew tight. "I'm not sure you're right about that. I'll collect what I can from Dalhu and analyze it." He smiled. "You know I would love to sink my teeth into this."
Okay, the guy is both information and adrenaline junkie. "Even if I were willing to risk you on a suicide mission like this, which I'm not, your sister would kill me if I did. So when you think of a plan, don't include yourself in it. Not going to happen."
Andrew pinned him with a hard stare. "Syssi wasn't privy to my missions before, and she is not going to be in the future. And last I checked, I'm not working for you, and you have no authority over me."
"Uhmm…" Anandur cleared his throat.
Damn. Kian really liked the guy, but Andrew was a pain in the ass—with an iron will and no respect for authority.
Still, he was right about the independent agent status, and it was something Kian intended to remedy as soon as possible. If putting the guy on payroll was going to make him more manageable, Kian would hire him in a heartbeat. "We will discuss this later."
Andrew nodded and turned back to the Doomer.
And what do you know, it was the first time Kian had seen Dalhu smiling.
"Wipe that smirk off your face," Kian barked at him. "And you too." He pointed a finger at Anandur.
"Yes, sir." Anandur saluted and turned his face to the wall, but his heaving shoulders betrayed him.
The Doomer had his head bowed down as if concentrating real hard on the scuff on his boot.
Damn, what did a guy have to do to get some respect…
CHAPTER 35: ANDREW
Three hours, God knows how many drinks, and a platter of munchies later, Andrew was finally satisfied that he'd squeezed out of Dalhu all there was to squeeze.
To follow were the profiles of the top players in Navuh's camp, and a map of the island, or rather the parts Dalhu was familiar with.
Not that an infiltration seemed likely.
Unfortunately, Andrew had to agree with Kian. Aside from a spying solo mission, gathering information of a doubtful strategic value, there wasn't much to be gained considering what he'd be risking. Like his head.
Still, he was itching to go.
It was dangerous, and finding who he could blackmail into getting him on the guest list might prove difficult if not impossible. But the idea filled him with renewed vigor and excitement the likes of which he hadn't felt in a long time.
He craved adventure, and Amanda's rescue hadn't even come close to providing enough of a challenge to sate it.
The need to get back the vitality that he felt was leaching out of him at his desk job grabbed him so hard, it overshadowed what he had believed was his quest for Amanda's affections, making a mockery out of it.
Given a choice, he would take the mission and dump Amanda in Dalhu's lap, wishing them the best of luck with a big smile on his face.
And wasn't that a revelation.
Yeah, she was beyond gorgeous, and hot. And competing for her with another man had been a challenge, which he had to admit was part of the lure. But she had not touched his soul the way she had obviously touched Dalhu's. So, even though he still believed himself to be a far better choice for Amanda than the Doomer, and even though with time a deeper connection might've been forged between
them, he would be deceiving her and himself if he pretended she had won his heart.
Perhaps she was better off with a lesser man, yet one who loved her with everything he got.
But then, there was Kian.
A big, stubborn obstacle in both Andrew and Amanda's way.
During the long hours of questioning, Kian's attitude toward Dalhu had improved somewhat, and a couple of times he'd even addressed the guy by name instead of spitting the derogative Doomer. Yet to hope that he would come around and allow anything between Amanda and Dalhu was ludicrous.
And unless Andrew could come up with a very convincing rationale behind his quest to infiltrate Passion Island, that wasn't going to happen either.
He would most definitely be facing an uphill battle, and so would Amanda if she was still interested in Dalhu.
Though if she was, Andrew doubted even Kian would be able to keep her away from what she wanted. Blood would spill, and Annani would have to put her little, yet formidable foot down to keep her children from tearing each other’s throats out.
On a more positive note, Kian had invited Andrew to stop by tomorrow to discuss the possibility of Andrew's inclusion in the clan's organization. Kian had also instructed Anandur to take Andrew to William, where he'd been given a transmitter to install in his car that would allow him access to the clan's underground parking, and his thumbprint had been taken and encoded into the reader of the clan's private elevators.
So progress had been made—he'd been officially accepted into their inner circle—as evidenced by the fact that he was strolling down the corridor of the basement's top level, unescorted, on his way to the clinic.
Now that he'd decided not to pursue Amanda, nothing prevented Andrew from visiting the lovely Dr. Bridget and letting her check him up, or out, or any other way she had in mind when she'd invited him the other night to stop by.
In fact, Andrew felt quite proud of himself. Bowing out from the competition was the right thing to do.
He wished Amanda good luck.