by Helen Harper
She wraps her arms around herself, clearly regretting speaking at all, even if it was in Rogu3’s defence.
‘Me,’ he says casually.
‘You bought her that?’ I ask.
‘She chose it.’ He shrugs to himself as if the ways of women are a mystery to him. I’m well aware of what she’s doing though; she thinks she can blend into the background. She wants to wear the unsexiest clothes it’s possible to find so that no one ever thinks of her in that way again. Unfortunately the over-sized denim simply makes her look more fragile and pretty. I decide to keep my mouth shut on that matter and keep my attention on Rogu3 instead.
‘Thank you for doing that.’ He sweeps out a bow and I sigh in irritation. ‘But you still shouldn’t have driven here. Do you have a death wish or something? Because I didn’t damn well save you from being a bloodguzzler for you to end up as roadkill under the wheels of some lorry.’
‘Jeez, Bo, since when did you become such a buzz kill? And stop being so hypocritical. It’s not like you care about the law.’
Actually, I do care, I care very much. I just ignore a lot of the current laws because they’re not helping anyone. It’s at times like these that I wish I still had Doctor Love, the shrink assigned to deal with my PTSD, on my speed dial.
Two months ago, Rogu3 reverted to being a kid, happy to stay at home and work through his nightmares on his own. Now he’s completely reversed his position. Maybe it’s like the seven stages of grief or something: denial, anger, acting like a complete lunatic...
‘You can’t ride around the streets of London on a motorbike.’
His bottom lip juts out. ‘I wore a helmet. So did Maria. The law is arbitrary. I’m a much safer driver than lots of people who are older than me.’
‘Have you even taken lessons?’
He scoffs. ‘It’s not that hard.’
I shake my head. ‘This is a really stupid idea. You need to go home, Rogu3. To your home. You don’t belong in my world.’
‘We’ve been through this. I’m not going anywhere.’
‘If I can’t trust you to get yourself around town in one piece then…’
‘Fine! I won’t take your damn bike again!’
I shake my head. Taking the pair of them to meet X is such a bad idea. Maria is acting like prey and Rogu3 is acting like he’s invincible. The pair of them are doomed.
Rogu3’s petulance ebbs away. ‘Listen, Bo, I know you’re upset. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. I’m already in your world. Whether either of us like it or not, we’ve both been sucked in. I might not be a triber like you but for good or bad, this is who I am now.’ He jerks his head towards Maria. ‘She feels the darkness too.’
I sigh in exasperation. He already knows he’s won. Whether he’ll feel the same way after meeting X remains to be seen, but if this is what he really wants then this is what he’ll get.
‘I’ll drive,’ I say shortly. It’s just as well it’s a big bike and I’m petite. Fitting three people onto the back of it isn’t going to be comfortable. I suppose I should be glad Rogu3 didn’t bring Kimchi along as well.
He grins. ‘Cheers Bo.’ He drops his head. ‘Guess what the word of the week is?’
I roll my eyes. A tiny smile still tugs at the corner of my mouth though I try to stop it. ‘What?’
‘Scofflaw. It means…’
‘I can guess,’ I interrupt drily. I check my watch and sigh. ‘Come on, we’d better go. The last thing we want to be is late.’ There’s no telling what X is going to do this evening; antagonising him with unnecessary tardiness seems stupid.
Chapter Eleven: Dinner
I’m relieved that we reach the restaurant first. All three of us have barely sat down, when I hear the familiar mellifluous murmur of X’s voice. My stomach churns and I glance over. When I see he’s in full glamour, with his tattoos masked and his ‘human’ face on display, I relax infinitesimally. That’s something at least. There again, as he glides over to our table I can’t believe that anyone could actually mistake him for human. No one who’s not a Kakos daemon moves like that.
Maria, hunched into the corner and still trying to pretend that she’s not here, doesn’t see his approach. Rogu3 is a different matter. His eyes follow mine and when he catches sight of X, his jaw drops comically.
‘I know him…’ His face pales and he swallows hard. ‘He works for Streets of Fire. You could have told me!’ He jumps up, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. That’s the precise moment when he realises that he is wearing jeans. He glances down at himself and looks embarrassed. ‘I could have dressed up!’ he hisses.
If there were not such potential for this dinner to go disastrously wrong, I’d be amused. I get to my feet, my entire body tense. Make a move against him, X, I project, and this restaurant will become a bloodbath. He glances at me, answering my thoughts with a wink. Then he turns to Rogu3.
‘Alistair,’ he says holding out his hand. ‘I’m so pleased to finally make your acquaintance. Bo has told me a lot about you.’
Not voluntarily, I think, as Rogu3 reaches out and takes X’s hand, pumping it furiously. ‘I’m so thrilled to meet you,’ he babbles. ‘I had no idea you were Bo’s benefactor.’
X’s mouth curves into a smile. ‘Believe me, the pleasure is all mine. And I find it hard to imagine that Bo hasn’t spoken about me.’
I just manage to stifle a snort. X made it very clear that anyone I told about his existence would have their heart cut out of their chest and munched upon.
‘Mm,’ he continues fluidly, ‘shall we sit down? I’m so hungry I think I could eat a heart.’ I stiffen visibly. ‘Perhaps even brains, intestines and an entire horse.’
Rogu3 beams in adoration. Maria jerks away. I realise too late that the one empty seat is right next to her. That was poor planning.
‘Alistair,’ X says, continuing to use his real name for some unfathomable reason that makes me wary, ‘why don’t you sit here next to Maria?’
I blink. That was … nice of him. Rogu3 jumps to his request, quickly scoots round and we all sit down. I keep my hands under the table. I don’t think either Rogu3 or Maria need to see how white my knuckles are.
The waiter wanders over, handing each of us a menu and reciting the specials in a vaguely bored tone. He doesn’t recognise me, which is rather nice. Next to me, Rogu3 is bristling with excitement, sending repeated surreptitious glances in X’s direction as if he can’t quite believe he’s really here.
‘Thank you,’ I say firmly, once the waiter has finished. He nods, seeing me properly for the first time. There’s a confused look in his eyes, as if he remembers me from somewhere but can’t quite work out where. He leaves, giving us time to choose what we want.
I clear my throat and look at Rogu3. ‘I’m surprised you’ve heard of my, um, benefactor here,’ I say, testing the water. ‘He tends to keep out of the limelight.’ Very deliberately; that’s why he’s not named as the CEO. There’s a human puppet in that role.
To my surprise, Rogu3 shoots me an annoyed look. ‘I keep up with everyone important in the tech world,’ he mutters. ‘Anyone who works for Streets of Fire counts as important.’
X shakes out his napkin and places it in his lap. ‘And anyone who has the wherewithal to hack past our impressive firewall also counts as important.’
Oh no. I stare at Rogu3, whose head droops. Shit, shit, shit. Is that why X has been so keen to meet him in person? Because he wants to hurt him for hacking into his company? Dread fingers its way through my veins. If only I’d known.
‘I’m sorry.’ Rogu3 almost whispers the words. ‘I was a lot younger then. I didn’t intend any harm.’
‘I know,’ X replies cheerfully. ‘And no harm done.’
Is that it? I glare hard at X, waiting for him to say or do something else. He just smiles at all of us instead. ‘Are we ready to order?’
The waiter materialises out of nowhere. Maria gives a minute shake of her head, unwilling to speak aloud with
so many strangers around.
‘How about the chicken Provençale, my dear?’ X suggests.
Her eyes fly to his. Something flickers in her expression and, for once, I wish I were like X and knew what she was thinking. It’s a fleeting desire; I have enough problems as it is without seeing inside everyone’s souls.
Knowing what’s going on in Maria’s mind would probably turn me crazy. I don’t require telepathy to know that she’s experienced more horror in her young life than most people do in a lifetime. I’m not sure whether Maria is going to make a run for the door or swing a punch at X, but suddenly she nods. He smiles approvingly, and turns to the waiter, requesting a bloody steak for himself. Rogu3 opts for pasta. I bypass everything and choose three things from the dessert menu. I don’t need human food to survive – in fact it does absolutely nothing for me ‒ but I do have a sweet tooth. Besides, I assume that since X demanded our presence here, he’s going to foot the bill. He doesn’t appear murderous so far; if his mood changes, it’ll be better if he takes it out on the manager for offering over-priced plates than on us.
Hearing my thoughts, X gives me a toothy smile. I smile back, baring my fangs.
Rogu3 leans forward eagerly. ‘There have been lots of rumours about which new processor you’re going to choose to promote. The XT3 is looking really good.’
X waves his hand in an airy, dismissive gesture. ‘Its operating speed leaves a lot to be desired.’
Ten seconds of computer talk and I can feel my eyes glazing over. If this is why X wanted to meet Rogu3, it’s going to be a bloody long evening.
X snaps his head towards me and, for a moment, familiar terror at being in the same room as a Kakos daemon attacks me. ‘I already have everything I need,’ he tells me with a sniff. Rogu3, unaware of what’s really going on, looks surprised.
Then can we go? I ask, posing the question silently.
‘We should get some wine,’ he says aloud. ‘Such a lovely occasion as this deserves a decent tipple.’
I scowl. ‘Rogu3 and Maria are under age.’
He lifts his eyebrows, clearly amused at the idea that someone would stop him from filling their glasses. He has a point, in a way. ‘You really do have a strange relationship with the word of the law, Bo,’ he comments.
Rogu3 laughs. ‘That’s what I’ve been telling her. A small glass won’t do any harm.’
‘Yes, it will.’ I fold my arms and frown like a disapproving teacher.
‘No wine,’ Maria says suddenly in a clear voice. Both Rogu3 and I turn to her in astonishment. Her cheeks colour. She already seems to be regretting speaking up.
‘Okay.’ Rogu3’s voice is quiet and my surprise only grows. Like all teenagers, he’ll argue with me at every single turn and on every single matter ‒ but two words from Maria and he’s as docile as a lamb.
X’s smile grows. ‘Young love.’
Neither Rogu3 nor Maria look enamoured of X’s observation. To mask his embarrassment, Rogu3 leans forward and starts peppering X with more computer-based questions. Maria looks relieved. I take advantage of the situation to relax back in my chair and let my mind drift. I mull over what I know of Lisa Johnson and what my next move should be. There’s also Medici to consider – and Michael. He inadvertently pops into my head. I run my tongue across my lips. If I concentrate, I can still taste him, still feel what it was like to have his body against mine, with his dark eyes glittering down at me. Then I get a sharp kick in my shin from under the table. X. Shit. I should be far more guarded with my thoughts, even when he seems to be otherwise occupied.
I ignore the flare of heat in my cheeks. X is on a roll tonight in terms of making his dinner companions blush. Thankfully the waiter uses that moment to deliver our meals.
‘So, Alistair,’ X says, savouring a mouthful of meat, ‘do you fully understand what it is that Bo is doing and why?’
I pause, my spoon halfway towards my mouth. Here we go. Rogu3 swallows. ‘Yes. At least I think so.’
‘She’s dancing with legalities, you know. Even for a vampire, interfering with the rest of the legal system is dangerous. And she has immunity. If you agree to work with her – to work for me – you’ll have no such guarantees.’
I stiffen. I don’t want this.
Rogu3 responds calmly before I can butt in. ‘As I think you know, I don’t always stick to the right side of the law myself. This will be no different.’ He holds up his hand and wiggles his fingers. ‘If this really is a job interview, then I have a few caveats.’
X’s mouth twitches. ‘Big word for such a young boy.’
There’s a flash of a scowl from Rogu3 and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I don’t like the way this conversation is going. X kicks me under the table again, although he doesn’t look in my direction. I hiss under my breath.
‘One,’ Rogu3 says, holding up his index finger, ‘I am not a field operative.’ What is this? Call of Duty? ‘My best work is done with a computer screen.’ Not to mention he’s no doubt wary after his past experiences out in the ‘field’. ‘Second,’ he continues, ‘I will require time off for my examinations.’
‘Pff,’ X dismisses. ‘You don’t need those things.’
‘All the same,’ Rogu3 says, with far more composure than I think I could manage, ‘I want to sit them.’
‘Very well.’
He holds up another finger. ‘Three. When I’m twenty-one, should I so desire it, you will give me a management-entry position at Streets of Fire.’
I have to give it to Rogu3, he certainly thinks on his feet. Thirty minutes ago he had no idea that we were meeting someone with clout at the large internet company. I regard him with newfound respect. He knows what he wants and he’s going after it.
‘Very well,’ X replies with a straight face. ‘I can agree to those terms. However, I have a few caveats of my own. There is to be no further hacking of the Streets of Fire systems. Ever.’ There’s a sudden hard glint reflected in his eyes. X is more pissed off about that than he’s letting on. ‘Secondly, you answer to Bo. In everything. She answers to me and I trust her judgment.’
I try not to look too surprised. Although given that I know X’s true nature, he probably has little fear that I’ll step out of line.
‘Done.’ Rogu3 reaches across the table, his palm outstretched for the obligatory handshake.
I clear my throat. Everyone turns to look at me, even Maria. X’s mouth twitches; he knows exactly what I’m about to say. ‘About the field operative part. There is just one thing.’ I meet Rogu3’s eyes and lower my voice. ‘You won’t be in any danger. I promise you that.’
‘One thing?’
I nod.
‘Okay,’ he agrees. The open trust in his expression gnaws at me. I want to scream that I’m not trustworthy at all. Neither is X.
X flicks a look at Maria. ‘Everyone’s happy,’ he says softly. And that’s when I know what this meeting was really about. He couldn’t give a shit about Rogu3 ‒ it is Maria he wanted to meet.
***
We stand on the pavement watching X climb into an expensive looking sports car and drive off. As soon as he’s gone, Rogu3 lets out a low whistle. ‘That was intense.’
‘Mm.’ I bite my lip and look at Maria. She’s staring at me with clear green eyes. I don’t think I’d noticed until now what an unusual shade they are.
She takes a deep breath. ‘What type vampire are you?’ she asks in her usual stilted way. She’s obviously been rehearsing this question in her head. ‘What vampire is friends with Kakos daemon?’
I stiffen. Rogu3 simply looks confused. ‘What do you mean, Maria?’ he asks. ‘He’s human.’
She doesn’t take her eyes off me. Damn it. ‘Rogu3 is right,’ I tell her, hoping the lie is smooth enough to fool him at least. ‘He’s just a human.’ I laugh hollowly. ‘If he were a Kakos daemon we’d all be dead and instead of rare steak, he’d have been munching on our hearts.’
‘I do not understand what this munching is,’ she
says. ‘But you lying.’
I can’t think of any way to deny her claims other than by continuing to protest – and that will be a dead giveaway. Instead I do the only thing I can: I look at Rogu3 and swallow. ‘About that field work. We need to go now while there’s still an audience.’
He looks from me to Maria and back again. He must realise that I’m not going to say any more about the matter. Unfortunately this is obviously a conversation he’s going to have with her later. I’ll have to get her on her own before then and tell her to keep her mouth shut, for all our sakes. X chose to keep himself hidden from Rogu3 so our previous agreement still stands. If anyone finds out his true nature, then we’re dead meat. Literally.
Chapter Twelve: The Redeemer
I put Maria in a taxi. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to leg it before she ever gets back to my place. That might not be a bad thing. Ignoring the curious looks I’m still receiving from Rogu3, I motion him towards the bike.
‘Get on,’ I say shortly. ‘We’re heading back to Medici.’
That puts paid to any further awkward moments. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously in his throat. ‘Okay.’
‘I won’t let anything happen to you.’
His face twists. ‘Bloody hell, Bo! You’re not my mum, alright? You’re not responsible for me, so stop treating me like I’m a two year old. I’m not a complete idiot. I can look after myself. And I trust you. Stop second-guessing me.’
I ball up my fists. I’m not going to let him get hurt but that doesn’t mean he should continue to blindly trust me. Rather than say anything, I climb on the bike and turn on the engine. We need to get there sooner rather than later. The last thing I need is for all those journalists to head home for the night.