The charcoal-gray Mercedes came for me at six-fifteen. Brian had sent me a text letting me know when the car would arrive. Had the semivive driver contacted him so he could contact me? It looked that way. Apparently Lucius didn’t want to give my number out to just anyone, even if that person happened to be one of his slaves.
A warm glow lingered on the horizon, but the sun was gone. I sat in the back seat of the car and knotted my cold fingers together, wishing there was some way I could lie to Lucius, could tell him that I hadn’t heard anything from my brother. Doing so would only delay the inevitable, however; the master vampire would find out soon enough that Jackson wanted to go ahead with the research, and then he would want to know why I had deliberately misled him.
I really didn’t see a way out.
The mansion seemed nearly dark as we approached, although once we drove up to the porte cochère, I saw a few lights gleaming on the ground floor. Maybe the house always looked like that; after all, I was usually already inside when night fell.
The semivive driver helped me out of the car. This time, even though I generally avoided touching any of Lucius’ half-living servants, I was glad of the assistance, of the man’s steadying hand. Although I’d taken care in getting ready, had put on one of my favorite skirts and a ballet-neck top, done my hair and makeup, I realized all those preparations had only been part of a vain attempt to give me confidence, to make me think I was prepared for this meeting.
I wanted to turn and run. Instead, I walked calmly through the porte cochère and entered the house. Waiting just inside was Lucius, who offered me his arm. As I took it, he looked down at me and raised an eyebrow.
“My dear, you seem somewhat agitated.”
“We need to talk.”
Without missing a beat, he said, “You have spoken with your brother?”
“Yes.”
“Ah. Then it appears it’s a good thing I decanted that ’73 Bordeaux I had been saving. This way.”
He guided me into the dining room, where the aforementioned Bordeaux sat on the table, along with a covered tureen that turned out to contain coq au vin. After he’d pulled out a chair for me and had seated himself, he poured some of the wine into the wine glasses that had been waiting at each place setting. Although he lifted his glass, he didn’t drink.
“Tell me.”
“They’re still waiting on some tests, but the prognosis isn’t good. Jackson said to let you know that he’s ready to proceed.” I sounded so calm, as though all this was happening to someone else’s family. But that was the only way I knew to keep myself together.
No response at first. Lucius held his glass up toward the candles in the candelabra at the center of the table, as though inspecting the liquid it contained. The reflected light glowed within the dark wine, glinting in shades of bloody garnet.
Then he said, “That is unfortunate.”
“‘Unfortunate’?” I repeated, thinking that was the understatement of the century. “I thought this was what you were hoping for.”
“Contrary to what you might think of me, I certainly am not one to wish a fatal disease upon an innocent child. While I am glad of the opportunity to have this research finally undertaken, I would have preferred not to do so because a young girl has been stricken with such a malady.”
I watched Lucius carefully, but I couldn’t see anything in his expression except a certain regret. If he was experiencing any triumph at the prospect of getting his own much-desired cure, he didn’t show it.
“So, Serena,” he went on, “let us drink to your brother’s people finding a cure quickly.”
I couldn’t really refuse, and so I raised my own glass and clinked it gently against Lucius’, then sipped. So heavy and dark, almost port-like in its intensity, but with a dryness one would never find in that after-dinner liquor. The previous week, I wouldn’t have trusted the wine, decanted as it had been rather than being poured safely out of a sealed bottle. Now, however, I knew that Lucius had no need to resort to such tricks. He trusted me. After all, hadn’t I just given him the keys to the kingdom, so to speak?
“That is something worth drinking to,” I said. “Jackson said to let him know what you think you will need.”
“As to that, I am not a scientist.” Lucius drank some more of the Bordeaux, then set down his glass and reached for the heavy spoon cradled in the tureen so he might dish us both some of the coq au vin. “He would know better — or at least, he has the means to hire consultants who can tell him what kind of researchers we need. But surely hematologists, and virologists, and a number of technicians.”
And project managers, and QA people, and…well, at that point my imagination ran out, because of course I’d never worked in a lab of any kind. Jackson probably had only a hazy idea as well, but he would be able to hire managers to handle all those logistics for him. As to how long it might take before they found a cure…who knew? The scene in my vision seemed to have taken place in the near future, but even a few years from now was too long, if the timeline Jackson had given me was at all accurate.
“He’ll get people on it right away,” I said. “He actually has a staff that works for him full-time here in California, managing his own trust. They’re completely separate from the staff in Washington, D.C., so I assume he’ll have someone from the California group go scouting for a building to lease, that sort of thing.”
Lucius’ lip curled slightly. “Yes, I suppose he would want to keep these activities as separate from his ‘official’ duties as possible. But he still plans to continue his run for President?”
“As far as I know, yes. The family already discussed it. Addison doesn’t want her illness to prevent him from running, or at least that’s what Bethany told me. Of course, that was before the meeting with the doctors at UCLA. Jackson said his schedule was going to be up in the air, because he still has almost a month before Congress has its spring recess, but I think he’s going to try to keep things appearing as normal as possible. If any of his possible opponents get a whiff of any of this, there’s going to be blood in the water.”
The half-ironic twist remained on Lucius’ mouth. “Yes, politics is rather a blood sport, isn’t it?”
I didn’t exactly shudder, but a tremor went through my body. Yes, that was a good phrase for it. Always having to watch everything you said and did, keeping the trash locked down so no one could go rooting through it, making sure there wasn’t a single word or interaction that could be held against you. I honestly had never understood how Jackson could live like that, but he seemed to thrive on the intrigue.
“For some, I suppose,” I admitted as I sipped at my Bordeaux. “I think Jackson looks on it more as a calling. I’m not sure how he’s going to explain his family staying here in California when he’ll be heading back to Washington, but I’m sure he’ll think of something.”
“A change of schools, perhaps?”
“Maybe. Although almost everyone in Congress who has school-age children sends them to private schools in D.C. There are a few who have tutors, and a couple whose families have stayed in their home states to avoid disruption. That’s a lot easier to pull off when you live in Maryland or even Connecticut or Rhode Island, though. Flying back and forth to California eats up a lot of time.”
“Well, as you said, I’m sure he’ll come up with a plausible explanation. Now eat your coq au vin before it gets cold.”
This last was delivered so gently that it was barely an admonishment, but I went ahead and picked up my fork. Despite my jumpy nerves, I was hungry — there wasn’t a lot for me to eat back home. I really would have to set up a shopping trip with Brian in the very near future. As I cut off a piece of the rich, wine-braised chicken, Lucius said,
“That was a very kind thing you did for Brian this afternoon.”
I paused mid-bite, then remembered to finish chewing. “It’s nothing.”
“I don’t think so. You saw that he was suffering, and proposed an clever solution.” Lucius stopped there for a moment, elegant fingers playing with the handle of his fork, although he didn’t raise it to his mouth. “It is one thing I do regret about making my semivives…this loss of self, of the creative spark within a person. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any way around it. For them to follow my command, they must give up a good deal of their individuality.”
“How many of them do you have?” I had to hope the question sounded innocent enough to him. What precisely I would do with that information, I didn’t know, but it always helped to know how many enemies you might be facing.
A shrug. “A dozen. They perform an assortment of duties for me, but that is a good number to have on hand. Enough so they are not spread too thin, but not so many that they become difficult to keep track of.”
Lucius seemed very mellow this evening. I thought I understood why — he could relax about getting his serum, because Jackson had agreed to fund and staff the project. In the vampire master’s mind, he was probably already looking ahead to those walks in the sunshine.
Walks he would want to take with me. I told myself that nothing had been set in stone yet, that the future was fluid and therefore could be changed, but I still could feel a tremor of disquiet move through me. This would have been a lot easier if I’d known the gula were going to arrive on scene at any moment and take Silas away. Felix had advised patience. Unfortunately, I was feeling anything but patient right then.
But because Lucius appeared so relaxed, I thought it safe enough to ask my next question. “How do you communicate with them, anyway? I’ve never seen them use a cell phone, or a walkie-talkie.”
A thin smile. “I have no need of such things. They are bonded to me, bonded because of the inoculation of my blood they’ve been given. I speak to their minds, tell them what I need them to do. It’s in the same way that they report to me. This comes to me more as impressions than discrete thoughts, but our communication works very well. After all, vampires have been making semivives for centuries, long before cell phones existed.”
I supposed I should have thought of that. Lucius’ explanation told me why the semivives never seemed to speak very much, why they appeared to come and go by instinct, even when following orders I had never heard. Everything transmitted through thought — efficient, quiet, and very difficult to subvert.
I’d been very careful in what I said and how I acted around not-Brian, and apparently that had been a wise decision. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t be doubly careful going forward.
“That makes sense,” I said, my tone neutral, and then took another bite of coq au vin.
“You disapprove.”
“Of course I do,” I told him, setting down my fork. “Taking people’s lives away, just so you can make them your servants? I care for you, Lucius, but do you honestly believe I would ever be okay with that sort of thing?”
There. I had to hope my remark provided just the right mixture of the old self-righteous Serena, blended with the woman who claimed to love him. If I wanted to be perfectly honest with myself, I still didn’t know for sure that he’d actually fallen for my act. He could be meeting my lies with more of his own, and laughing to himself the whole time, laughing at the silly mortal woman who actually thought she could fool an immortal being who’d lived for centuries.
In which case, he was only using me for as long as he found me and my connections worthwhile. After he had what he wanted — his serum — quite possibly he’d dispose of me the way Leticia and Tristan had disposed of Vanessa.
But if I believed that, then I’d also have to believe that my visions weren’t true, and the serum would never come to be. After all, the future I’d been shown seemed to indicate that Lucius and I had an intimate relationship. That was the problem with trying to predict the future, even when you were given guideposts. You just didn’t know. Not for sure. Not one hundred percent.
“No, I didn’t think you would agree with the practice.” Lucius reached over to where my hand rested on the tabletop, and ran his long index finger across my skin, down to my wrist. By that point I was used enough to him touching me that I didn’t even shiver, and instead summoned a smile for him. “That is one thing I admire about you. Your soul is still pure. I appreciate that quality, because innocence generally gets trampled with the passage of time. We are all quite a group of jaded souls here.”
“Even Michael?” I asked. “I got the impression that he…hadn’t been around quite as long as the rest of you.”
“Yes, Michael is a young vampire,” Lucius said. “But I certainly would not call him an innocent.”
I couldn’t argue with that statement, mostly because I didn’t know Michael St. John well enough to comment. We hadn’t exchanged many words, although something about his brittle sarcasm made me think he’d resorted to such outward displays of irony in order to hide a deeper hurt. “I suppose no vampire can be innocent,” I said. “After all, you do kill people.”
“None lately.”
“Except my sister.”
Lucius withdrew his hand from mine, a frown touching his brows. “I’ve already told you that I don’t agree with Tristan’s and Leticia’s actions. But they have touched no one since, and I….” The words drifted away as his frown increased. He reached for his glass of Bordeaux, took a large swallow. “Would you believe me if I told you I hadn’t claimed a life in more than a year?”
My first instinct was to say no, I didn’t believe him. Such a response probably wouldn’t elicit a positive response, and so I only lifted my shoulders. “Do I have any reason not to believe you?”
“No. This is the truth, Serena. As I told you before, bottled blood has little savor, but it does keep us alive. I grew weary of the killing, weary of the hunt. When I learned of your existence, however….” The silvery eyes brightened, and I had to force myself not to look away. “That gave me something to look forward to. Meeting you, that is.”
Which is why you sent one of your semivives to manhandle me on the street and try to kidnap me, I thought sourly. I wouldn’t bring up that ancient history, though. Throwing it in his face would only show that I really wasn’t on his side after all. A woman who was truly in love with him would have let it go.
“Well, I hope I was everything you expected,” I said lightly as I picked up my fork once again.
“Everything and more. When I first saw you at the reception following your sister’s fashion show, you took my breath away.” He continued to watch me, and I felt the blood rise to my cheeks.
I also couldn’t help the sensation of unease that began to fill me. No, he hadn’t said or done anything remotely threatening, and yet once again I wondered how long he was going to play this game, of being passionate and romantic, but never requiring anything more of me than a kiss and the occasional caress. I also couldn’t help wondering whether this was yet another one of his ploys, that toying with me in such a way satisfied him more than actually taking me to bed.
Well, if that was the case, he could continue to play cat and mouse for as long as he wished. The uncertainty was still far preferable to the alternative, of having to be intimate with him just to keep Silas alive.
I made myself look at the vampire, and prayed I was a good enough actress that he wouldn’t see anything except admiration and love in my eyes. “I’m glad you found me, then.”
“Oh, yes. I knew I must have such a prize.” He smiled, and I forced myself to smile in return, even though inwardly I writhed. A prize. Yes, something to be captured, and owned. Even if I had never met Silas, had never loved him, I knew that sort of comment would have prevented me from ever caring for Lucius Montfort. “You need someone who will appreciate you, not turn away from you because your gifts were something he couldn’t accept.”
Obviously, he was talking about Travis, the boyfriend — well, fiancé — who’d dumped me after my accident, once he realized my brain wasn’t ever going to be exactly the same again. Yes, Travis was a jerk, but I’d gotten over it. Anyway, Silas did appreciate me, accepted my psychic talent as just another part of me, like my brown hair or hazel eyes. Moreover, my gula didn’t expect me to be anything more than what I was. He didn’t want anything from me, only wanted me. Maybe that was part of why I loved him, because of that acceptance. Talk about pure souls — his truly was.
But I couldn’t talk about Silas. I had to pretend that he’d been relegated to a neglected corner of my brain, just as he’d been relegated to captivity in the wine cellar somewhere below my feet. When I was alone, then I could think of him, of the depths of his dark eyes, the way his heavy hair fell against his cheeks, of how strong he was, of how safe I’d felt in his arms. Around Lucius, I needed to act like Silas didn’t exist, or I might betray how much I truly did care for him.
“Well, it seems I’ve found him — or he’s found me,” I said, and reached for my glass of Bordeaux.
“Yes,” Lucius said firmly. “You have. Never forget that, Serena. We are meant to be together. The universe wants us to be together. Never doubt that.”
“Oh, I don’t,” I told him, and smiled before taking a sip of wine. So the universe wanted us to be together? Considering everything I’d gone through because of the accident that had almost killed me and its aftermath, I had a few bones to pick with the universe, thank you very much. Anyway, Silas had been assigned to watch over me, had come to love me first, so if I really wanted to believe in the universe’s wishes, I’d say that my Watcher had the original claim on my heart.
We were both quiet for a few moments after that, as I went back to my neglected coq au vin and Lucius poured himself more Bordeaux. The food really was excellent, and I wondered where he’d gotten it.
“I need to go to the store tomorrow,” I said abruptly, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Indeed?”
“Well, I just thought I should tell you,” I continued, knowing I must sound like an idiot. “So you can let Brian know. After the week I spent here, I don’t have much left to eat at my place.”
“Of course. It’s a reasonable request.”
His inflection was so neutral that I couldn’t really tell what he might be thinking. I also worried that he might use my empty cupboards as an excuse to get me to return here. After all, why waste time and energy shopping when I could stay here at the mansion and have gourmet takeout brought to me every night?
Apparently the need to make my family think that his and my relationship was a perfectly normal one was more important than having me here at his side every waking moment, because Lucius seemed content to leave it at that. He went on to ask me where he thought my brother might set up his lab, and whether it would be a good idea to be introduced to the project manager as an investor in the project, so he might come visit when he wished.
I pointed out that he would have to time his visits for after work hours, considering how he couldn’t expose himself to the sun, and for a moment he looked almost disappointed. Then he brightened, however, and said, “I will request that your brother hire enough staff to have two shifts. That way, someone will always be working during the times that are more convenient for me to make an inspection.”
In a way, that made more sense. Time was of the essence here. Having double shifts would allow the work to continue at a much faster pace. Cost wasn’t a factor, so I doubted Jackson would raise any objections. For all I knew, he’d already thought of that kind of setup.
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” I said.
“Of course not,” Lucius replied, and smiled. For some reason, his canine teeth looked very sharp in the glow of the candlelight. “Now that we have your brother on our side, nothing can stop us.”