“So spill,” said Caro, pouring milk into her coffee. “What’s going on with Estelle?”
Stephan told her about the invocation and the new lithu deputy and Felix’s disappearance. Her eyes widened when he mentioned Raoul’s request.
“Interesting,” she said.
“Why?” He took a second bun.
“I’ve been working with Isindle lately, doing more research on the Ancients. It’s quite a story.”
“The fey myths are different from ours,” Stephan said.
“True, but the madness affected them as well.” Caro twisted her cup back and forth on the table. “Yangzei told Miaoling he was only a test.”
Stephan remembered. “That his handlers were preparing to raise their own.”
“Iverson was the one to raise him but it looks like he had a deal with the vampires,” said Caro. “The eastern queens. It fell through.”
“It could be the lithu,” Stephan said. “They made contact with Estelle’s brother.” He described the visit to the fire-bellowing bar.
“I want to go there,” said Caro dreamily.
“Get Eric to take you on your anniversary. Raoul’s the head librarian and he wants access to Miaoling and our archives to learn more about our Ancients.” He considered. “Ancient, I suppose, since we only have Yangzei.”
“Miaoling’s too busy. I’ll talk to him.”
Now that he’d completed his promise to Raoul, he could move on to more interesting topics. “Yangzei,” he prodded.
“In my research I found a strange diagram. It had fey writing and Isindle recognized a spell that she called, a…” Caro paused and looked up to the ceiling, trying to recall. “Huiniun.”
“What?”
“A banishment. We think we can use it on Yangzei to send him to a sort of in-between prison. The fey have their own Ancients in a similar realm.”
Stephan took a deep breath, knowing as always that this very good news would be accompanied by very bad news. It was the way of the world. “What’s the catch?”
“Another Ancient has to wield it,” said Caro.
This wasn’t so bad. Stephan regarded her suspiciously. “That’s all?”
She smiled mirthlessly. “Not quite. Whoever wields it will be sent to the prison as well.”
Damn. That was a hell of a catch.
Help us.
His head jerked back as he jumped to his feet. Cynthia and Caro stared at him in astonishment. “Stephan?” Caro asked.
He could have sworn he heard a man’s voice but now it was overwhelmed by the familiar rising and falling wave of the multitude.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Need to get my hearing checked.”
The women turned back to the conversation as he let his mind drift slightly. The voice—the man—could he really hear it in that murmur of sadness? No, not even when he concentrated. It was unpleasant feeling, listening for the voices in his mind. They drew him in with the hundreds of stories they were dying to tell, wanting to be free. More often now, the hatred they had for Yangzei filled him until he could barely quell the murderous thoughts.
“Don’t you think, Stephan?” Caro turned to him.
The phone rang, thankfully tamping down the voices in his head. “Speak of the devil,” he said. “Hello Raoul.”
“Estelle’s gone.”
“She what?”
Raoul’s voice crackled out. The connection was terrible. “She left. You should hear the gossip.” He sounded thrilled.
Like he cared about the gossip. “Where did she go?”
“No one knows.”
“Raoul. Right now I am sixteen hundred kilometers north in a different country. I am getting on the first plane to Orlando. If you don’t have some answers for me when I arrive, I’ll kill you.”
“Not very nice language from an ambassador.”
“Fuck off.”
“She’s gone to find Felix. She thinks she knows where the Dawning is.”
The blood drained from Stephan’s head. “The Dawning?”
“She thinks she’s located one of their bases.”
“Tell me.”
“Cancun. I have no more details than that.”
Mexico. Tom might be there. Why didn’t she tell him what she was doing? She’d had plenty of chances—they talked every day. She’d made passing reference to what she called her research project but had never indicated this was what she was looking for. The way she described her days gave the impression that all she did was go to meetings.
What else was she hiding from him? He could have helped her. Gone with her, if she’d been open with him.
“Ambassador.”
He brought himself back to the conversation. “Sorry. What?”
“Did you remember your part of the bargain?” Raoul was serious now, with none of the superior, mocking tone that usually layered his conversation.
“I spoke to Caro.” He gave Raoul her email so Caro could reply at her own pace. “She wants to talk to you. You’ll need to do that before you get access to the Pharos head.”
“It’s only research,” Raoul warned.
“Right now, that’s enough. Send me over anything Estelle was looking at.”
“Will do.”
They hung up.
“Excuse me,” Stephan said. Caro and Cynthia didn’t stop him as he ran out.
Estelle didn’t answer her phone, text, or email. Stephan tried another dozen times before he booked the next flight to Mexico. He went to root out Eric, who sat in the war room squinting at a map. “I need some exercise,” he said abruptly. Raoul said it would take several hours for him to gather the information to scan to Stephan. Sitting around the house waiting for Estelle to call back or Raoul to get information would kill him.
Eric leapt to his feet, scattering his papers. “Christ, let’s go. I’m dying.”
“Running?” asked Stephan. They both looked out of the window, where the snow was falling in large, white flakes—as it had been for the last two hours.
“Climbing,” said Eric.
Within minutes, they were in the car. Eric insisted on driving and Stephan didn’t fight him. It was pleasant to be chauffeured around by his nominal boss and oldest friend.
“How long have we known each other?” he asked abruptly. The climbing gym was only a few minutes’ drive, but the day was so blustery that a car felt like a necessity. He thanked God that Cormac, Miaoling’s annoyingly environmentalist fey mate, wasn’t here to make him feel bad.
Eric grinned. “Too long. Look at that. Someone’s biking in this weather.”
No surprise. Toronto had a small set of diehard cyclists who grimly insisted on riding through the winter. Stephan had once seen a guy pick up his bike, carry it over a two-foot snow pile, and hop back on.
There was a short silence, then Eric said, “Why do you ask?”
“Making conversation.”
“Bullshit.” Eric parked on a side street and they got out of the car. The wind cut through Stephan’s jacket and he thought longingly of the Florida sun. Or Cancun heat.
“Estelle made a comment the other day,” Stephan said. “That we changed with our masques, more than we admit.”
“What did you say?” Eric slung his equipment bag over his shoulder and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. Both men bent slightly against the wind.
“Shit, that it’s not true! She didn’t get that the core of us remains the same. She said Caro agreed with her.”
“I think Caro does,” Eric said calmly “I think I might, too.”
Stephan stopped dead. “What?”
Eric made a face and paused. “Do we really have to have this discussion here? In this weather?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. I think there’s a bit of truth to it. People treat us d
ifferently based on how we look.” He pointed to Stephan. “Tell me if this masque gets the same attitude as when you’re Richard.”
“No.” Being a pudgy white man was a wholly different experience than a tall black one.
“Imagine years and years of that. It has to change you. Like a tree molded by the wind.”
Eric started walking again and after a moment, Stephan followed him.
“Only if you remain in that masque for long enough.”
“True enough.”
“Estelle doesn’t know this is a masque,” Stephan said suddenly.
Eric didn’t pause. “Do you think she would care?”
“I don’t know.”
“Look at it this way, then. Would you be the same man today if you had decided to never change from your natural self? Had you lived your life mostly as you were before you were turned? What if you were a black woman? A Korean man?”
This was uncomfortable and Stephan was glad that they were at the climbing gym and conversation had to turn to topics safe for human ears.
It took him a while to get back into the groove but when he did, it felt fantastic. The shoes, with their stiff soles and pointed toes, fit like gloves. It had been a while, so his fingers started to burn from gripping the holds on the wall. His arm was weaker than it had been, yes, but that was no surprise; at least he could go through a full range of motion.
“To the upper left,” called Eric from the ground. “Stop trying to take the hardest way up.” Stephan glanced up and saw it. A few more moves and he was at the top, ready to be lowered down on the rope.
“Nice,” complimented Eric.
Stephan prodded at his forearms, which were as hard as granite and traced with veins. “We need to come more often.”
He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed climbing. He couldn’t look down at the ground—relative immortality had not taken away his instinctive fear of heights—but it was sheer delight to get out of his own head and focus on the next hold, the next climb. He even managed to forget about the presence of the multitude, sometimes audible, always there, as he worked his way up the walls. It was bliss.
“I think I’ve got one more in me,” said Eric, panting. He had finished a wall with serious overhang and was plucking at the knot that tied him into the belay rope, fingers trembling.
“Me too.” Stephan tied in and they checked each other over. He chose an easier wall, wanting to go out feeling strong. His arm felt surprisingly good, but he’d felt a few twinges the last climb.
Exertion complete, they changed and went over to Clinton’s for a beer, a long-standing tradition. “Nachos,” Stephan ordered as an afterthought. Bad weather made him hungry.
Eric waited until the drinks came before he leaned back and stared at Stephan.
“So?”
“So what?”
“C’mon.” Eric’s eyebrows rose high. “I was waiting for you to tell me on your own time, but since it looks like that’s not going to happen, I need to ask.”
“Estelle is gone. We think her brother was abducted by the Dawning and taken to Mexico. She put her deputy in charge and left without telling anyone, although I would have helped her if she’d asked.”
Eric nodded, taking it all in stride. “Of course you’re going.”
“Tomorrow.” He’d be in Cancun tomorrow, right at Estelle’s side. Where he belonged.
Chapter 20
Estelle checked into the hotel. It was nice enough and on the beach. Her room, which was small with enough space for a round table and two chairs, had a view of the ocean beyond the balcony. Sliding open the balcony doors, she breathed in the salt-scented breeze and smiled. She wasn’t on vacation, but it was hard to not feel like relaxing when she looked down at the tanned bodies stretched out on the beach.
That was for another day. After she’d found her brother and hauled his butt back to Orlando.
She unpacked her bag and spread all of her documents out on the flowered bedspread. Raoul had been thorough but they hadn’t been able to further pinpoint the location, and Cancun was only the best guess of three possible locations. She shuffled through the papers and sighed. Logically, the Dawning would be close to, but not right in, the populated area. Access to humans for feeding was important but they wouldn’t want to be too central. High visibility would be bad.
Her phone buzzed and she flipped it over. Stephan again. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked up.
“Why did you go to find your brother without me?” he asked. No hello, no greeting.
“I couldn’t wait.”
“I’m on my way to Cancun.”
Estelle had to admit that Stephan’s help would be an asset. There were many options and not enough time. Perhaps she should have brought a team, but she couldn’t risk it. There were too many ways information could leak, and the result could be devastating for her parents.
“I have a flight out tomorrow and will be there at nine in the morning,” he said.
“You don’t need to come,” she lied.
“I had to come back to report to Eric. Why did you leave without me?”
“I had the impression you thought this was a bad idea.”
“Even if I did, I’d be there for you.” He sighed. “Do you have your laptop?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Will you have dinner with me?”
“When you get here?”
“No. Tonight. I’ll Skype you at seven and we’ll eat together. Have a drink.”
Estelle grinned at the phone. “That sounds ridiculous. We can talk when you get here.”
“We can talk tonight as well.”
She thought about it. “Why not?”
“Good. See you tonight.”
With that he hung up. Estelle tossed the phone in the middle of the papers on the bed, suddenly feeling absurdly happy. The buoyant feeling was enough to get her moving. She’d go for a walk, get the lay of the town. Maybe go for a quick swim. After all, she didn’t want to stand out. It was weird enough for a person to be here alone—she’d already noted the staff looking at her in askance.
She changed into her swimsuit, then assessed the papers on the bed. Better lock them in the safe. It was impossible to know friend from foe here and she would need to be on her guard. She looked in the mirror to brush her hair and froze. She was the vampire seneschal—Crimson Whatever, guardian of the etcetera and so forth—and she was recognizable. For the first time in a while, she really looked at herself.
This wouldn’t do. She washed her face and scrubbed off her habitual black eyeliner and red lipstick. That helped. The hair was impossible, though. The cut was too steep and her hair an intense blue-black. A hat would help but she needed a more drastic change.
She felt a slight pang of jealousy thinking about Stephan and the other masquerada. All they needed to do was wriggle their noses and think blond thoughts. Not her.
Time to make an appointment with a stylist.
* * * *
Stephan poured himself a beer and opened up his laptop. Almost seven o’clock. He shut the laptop again. He’d call at exactly two minutes past seven to make sure she was there.
He’d thought about this call all day. If she didn’t pick up, he might have to…what? He didn’t even know. Estelle was part of his life now. When she was gone, the day simply felt gray. Dull. Where this “friends thing” would take them, he had no idea. To keep Estelle in his life, in any way, he would agree to anything.
He glanced at the time. One more minute.
Close enough. With cold fingers, he typed her name and called. She answered in seconds.
Or…he thought she did? “Estelle?” he choked.
“Hi.”
It was definitely Estelle’s sweet voice. He blinked. “You look different.”
If it could be called different. He w
as used to seeing Estelle with shining black hair and stark makeup that he considered almost a shield. He’d never seen her without cherry lips. God, even when he kissed her, that damn color had only smeared slightly. He’d found that minor disarray almost painfully erotic, but that was neither here nor there.
The woman smiling at him from the screen looked nothing like Estelle. Light brown hair that turned blond at the ends waved down past her shoulders. Her face was bronze and glowing, as if she had a tan, and he couldn’t even tell if she wore makeup. Even her eyebrows looked lighter.
“What do you think?” she asked.
He took another gulp of his beer and noticed that he’d managed to drink most of it while he’d been staring. “I don’t even know,” he said.
She laughed. “You’re a masquerada. Shouldn’t you be used to this?”
“Yes, for us.” He shook his head. “Not you. Why?”
“I’m too recognizable,” she said seriously. “Now I blend in.”
She couldn’t be serious. She was gorgeous. There was no way she could blend in anywhere. Even among the beautiful beach people of Cancun, Estelle’s wide smile and confidence would stand out.
“Your hair is long,” he said stupidly. A wig?
“Extensions. It took a few hours.”
“Wow.” It was grossly inadequate but Estelle nodded.
“It’s taking a bit to get used to,” she confessed. There was a Corona beside her and she picked it up. “I hardly recognize myself.”
“You look good,” he said. She did, naturally, but it was so different than what he was used to. How was it that Eric could turn into a tiny elderly woman and he would hardly blink, but all Estelle had to do was change her hair and makeup and it shocked him almost speechless?
Well, she wasn’t supposed to change. That was his thing.
“Thanks.”
They both sipped their beer. Stephan pulled out a burrito and waved it at the monitor screen. “Hungry?”
She laughed and revealed her own silver-wrapped cylinder. “Great minds.”
Masked Longing Page 15