The next two days were quiet. No attacks. No calls from Smith. I wondered if he'd somehow regained control over the vampires. If he'd ever lost it. Dan wasn't convinced. The FBI were running image searches based on the photo we'd found—the original and an aged version—but so far Smith hadn't popped up anywhere.
Which was disappointing, but the breathing space gave Dan and Esme time to secure some scientific expertise to help figure out my dad's data. Which was why Esme and I were walking into a Taskforce meeting room to meet one of them and find out what he'd determined so far from my father's research.
"Ashley, this is Professor Felipe Medina. He’s a consultant to the NIH. And knows a lot about the vaccines," Dan said as I entered. "Professor, this is Ashley Keenan."
I studied the man as he rose to greet me. He was darker skinned like Andy with earthy brown eyes. But his hair was more gray than black, with several near-white streaks at his temples. On him, it looked good. Silver fox territory. Very white teeth flashed as he smiled at me.
"Señorita Keenan. Roberto's daughter, no? You have grown up." His accent was definitely not American. Spanish, maybe. Or South American, perhaps, but I didn't know the accents of that part of the world well enough to pinpoint it to a country.
"You knew my father?" I said, startled. Dan had failed to mention that part when he told me he'd found someone he thought would help. But Dan, too, seemed surprised. So perhaps he hadn't known.
"We crossed paths a few times," Felipe said.
"You're an immunologist?" I asked.
"These days more of an epidemiologist," he said. "But I started in immunology, many moons ago. The vampire vaccine was something I was involved in for quite some time."
He looked past me toward Esme, eyes lighting as men's often did when they spotted her. "And this is?"
"My colleague, Agent Watson," Dan said smoothly. "She spoke to you on the phone."
"Hello, Professor Medina. It's nice to meet you in person," Esme said.
Felipe tilted his head, expression slightly puzzled.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"No." He shook his head as though shaking off a memory or a temporary thought. "Nothing is wrong." He waved at the long table, which was scattered with papers and several thick binders, a laptop open in front of the central chair on the right-hand side. Rather than a coffee cup, there was a dark green metal travel cup with a straw sitting by the computer. I recognized the smell. Maté. Definitely South American. I'd tried it a few times on a trip to Argentina to deal with a vampire's estate. Bitter but powerful. I hadn't acquired the taste but could see why people did.
"Come, let us all sit down," Felipe said, sitting back down in the chair near the laptop.
We arranged ourselves across the table from him. Dan told me Felipe had been briefed on the basics of the case. He knew there was a more infectious strain of vampirism emerging and that the man we thought was responsible was interested in my father's research. For a man who had only recently learned about a potential plague of vampires, he seemed perfectly at ease.
He looked over at us and smiled. "Now I feel like I have been called to the principal's office for a scolding. So fierce, the three of you. But I understand. You have been working on this case for some time, I am told."
"Yes," Dan agreed.
"And now you have Roberto's research. A brilliant man, your father, Señorita Ashley. I always followed his publications with interest after he left the university."
I raised my eyebrows. Dad had never talked much about publishing his research. "I thought most of what my father worked on was confidential. The pharmaceutical companies always seemed to tie him up in nondisclosure agreements."
"True. But he was a clever man, your father. He published in other areas not so directly related to his research. The companies knew they were lucky to have him. I remember when I visited him at Synotech. We were talking about—"
"You worked with Dad at Synotech? You didn't show up on any of the records." I had nearly memorized Synotech's employee roster for the entire time my dad worked there at this point.
"Well, I wasn't an employee," he said easily. "More like a visiting fellow at a hospital. I had temporary privileges with your father's lab, but Synotech didn't pay me. It was only for a month and quite some time ago now, so I can't see any reason they would have a record of me."
Damn. We hadn't thought of that.
"Hang on," I said, looking at Dan. If Felipe had spent time at Synotech, there was a chance he'd met Smith. Maybe. "You might be able to help us with more than the research." I took my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the photo of Smith. "Do you know who this man is?"
Felipe took the phone from me, frowning down at the screen. "Is he somebody important?"
"Yes," I said shortly. "He's the man who created the plague vamps."
Felipe's expression tightened. Maybe he wasn't as calm as he was acting. He brought the phone closer, peering at the screen. "It was a long time ago that I was at Synotech. But I have a good memory for faces. Though I meet many people in my work." He squinted at the photo. "You don't know his name?"
"He goes by Doctor Smith. Nothing more than that. It's not his real name as far as we can tell. Not unless he got someone to do a very good job of scrubbing his records from existence."
"Smith does not ring a bell," Felipe said. "But there is something familiar about him. Do you think he worked with Roberto?"
"We're not sure. He knew Dad, but we haven't found any record of him working at the companies Dad worked for. He had a girlfriend." I wasn't sure if that was the exact term for their relationship, but it would do. "Her name was Cilla.” It was an unusual enough name that perhaps it would be enough to jog his memory.
“Cilla." He pursed his lips. "Let me think. I do not think I have met many women with that name. Where did I go with Roberto?" He snapped his fingers suddenly. "There was a baseball game. Or softball, perhaps? I am not entirely clear on the difference. There was a man there, with a very beautiful woman. Her name was Priscilla. I tried to flirt with her, but she seemed sad."
"Do you always flirt with other people's girlfriends?" Esme asked.
"Flirting is enjoyable, Agent Watson. I do not mean anything by it, and I do not press." He tilted his head at her and bared those white teeth in a grin that was very attractive despite the fact that he was probably thirty years older than me. "Do you not enjoy flirting?"
She gave him one of her ice-queen looks.
"You are not South American, I think," he said. "Which is strange. Because from the sensation I get from you, you are a cat shifter, no? You feel different to Agent Gibson and Señorita Keenan here. They are wolves."
"You feel shifter buzz?" I asked, startled.
"Yes," he said. "My family has connections to one of the oldest tribes of jaguar shifters in Argentina. Distant connections. I am not a shifter myself, but I am sensitive to them. Which has come in handy a time or two." He smiled at Esme again. "You feel like a jaguar. But you do not look like any jaguar shifter I have ever met."
Esme didn't look like most people. And she didn't answer his question. "I think we're straying off topic. You remember a Priscilla. Do you remember the name of the man she was with?" she asked.
"It was a long time ago. Let me think." He rubbed his forehead, muttering under his breath.
I caught mine. My dad used to do the same thing, and the pang of remembrance was sharp, the encounter with him in my memories so fresh. I waited, hardly daring to move in case I interrupted Felipe's train of thought, willing him to remember. If he did, then we might actually find out who Smith really was.
But a smile flashed back over his face. "Yes. Yes. He had a strange name, too. One of those odd names you Americans have where last names are first names, too. It started with a B. Bryson? No. Baxter. That was it. I am sorry, I do not remember the rest of his name. I believe he was a researcher, too, but I am not sure what field. But he was playing for a different team, so I do not think he worked with Roberto directly. Red. He wore red. And Priscilla had a red scarf. Red must have been his team colors."
Synotech's softball uniform had been purple and silver to match their logo.
I tried to remember if any of the companies we'd been talking to in our attempt to identify Smith had red logos but came up blank. But someone at Synotech would know about the softball games. They'd been a fixture when Dad worked there. They had a regular league and family days. I'd stopped going regularly as a teen but had been to plenty when I was younger. They'd been fun and popular, so probably hard to cut out. Even if the league was no more, there'd be records. I remembered pictures on the walls around the Synotech headquarters. Photos of the teams and other company events. We should be able to work out which company wore red easily enough.
I grinned at Felipe, resisting the urge to bust out a quick chair dance of victory. "That's very helpful, thank you."
He looked pleased. But he tapped the stack of binders. "Don't you want to know about the more interesting part of the puzzle?"
My fizz of excitement dulled a little. Dad's research. I did want to know. "What did you find?"
Felipe sat up straighter, suddenly looking very professorial. "The data is complicated, so this is my preliminary analysis only, yes? Most of it tallies with the small parts I knew about his work. Your father was looking for ways to make the vaccines more effective and safer. He was pursuing a path related to examining how the virus—the Stoker variation was what he was mostly focused on—replicates itself in the body and how the body changes in response to it."
"That much we know already from the information Synotech gave us," I said.
"Yes, so Agent Gibson told me." Felipe tapped the pile again. "A lot of this agrees with that path of research. But there are some unexpected directions in here. There is information about hormonal impacts of the virus—that is a common thread of vampire research, trying to understand how vampire physiology changes—but in particular, your father was looking at estrogen."
"Estrogen?" I said. "Female vampires don't reproduce."
"No, but estrogen plays other roles in the body. It helps with healing. It impacts the heart and blood. Affects bone strength. These are things that change in vampires. Maybe that is what your father was interested in."
"Maybe? You can't tell?"
"Not yet. There is a lot of data in here but no detail on what your father was thinking. Agent Gibson tells me there are files still being decrypted?"
There were. Adria had called me twice more to tell me my dad had a brain like an evil hacker to come up with the protection he had, and why wasn't I in IT if he'd been such a genius? I told her I'd had no idea he was a computer genius. Which left us wondering if he'd had help designing the security over the files. She thought she was making progress, but running decryption programs wasn't like it was in the movies. It took time, so we just had to wait.
"Yes. But without that information, what is your best guess about what he was looking into?"
"As I said, he wanted to make the vaccine more effective, less harmful. The reason the vampire vaccine is troublesome is due to the extent of changes wrought in the vampire body by the virus. Werewolves experience a number of changes in their biology, but they remain essentially human at the core. Accelerated versions of human, perhaps, if you ignore the ability to change forms. In vampires, the changes are more drastic. In trying to stop the virus making those changes, we can trigger reactions that are harmful without meaning to. That is why some people have unfortunate reactions to the vaccine. And, of course, there is the magical element to it."
"You believe in magic?"
"Do you not? We live in a world with vampires and shifters, Señorita Keenan. I come from a part of the world where my ancestors had many rituals and mysteries. What we know of the Stoker Variation and lycanthropy cannot be fully explained by science alone. Technically, both viruses should kill us. They overwrite our DNA, alter our bodies extensively. Change us in a manner that we have not yet managed to fully unlock despite many years of intensive research. Vampires and werewolves heal fast, but we do not know how the viruses manage that. If we knew, we might be able to leverage it to help us in other ways. And werewolves can have children. Children who carry the strain within them even if it does not activate until they reach certain stages of human development." He smiled at me, triumphant.
"Sex hormones again. In epidemiology, we look at how diseases are spread and how to prevent that spread. Once the first vaccines were developed for the supernatural viruses, our focus shifted back to the normal human diseases. We do not have mass outbreaks of vampirism or lycanthropy these days." He frowned then. "Or at least we have not for a long time. It seems there is a new threat, if you cannot stop this Smith-Baxter person. But no. I am straying off the path. You have me here to talk about the immunology, not the disease control.
“So, there are some paths of research here about looking at how reproductive hormones might alter under the impact of the virus and whether there is a protective mechanism that could be used in the vaccines. Reproductive hormones trigger many changes in the body, and I think your father might have been looking at whether they could have a preventative role in stopping the vampire virus taking hold. In blocking the changes somehow. I am not sure yet. The data in these files is mostly related to his main field of work. This theory of his seems to have been in the early stages. He was working with some experiments, but there is not a lot of data about the results."
Reproductive hormones. It wasn't exactly what I'd expected to hear, but it was teasing at the back of my mind. Then it clicked. "Professor, is it possible that you could find a vaccine—or a treatment, perhaps—that allowed a vampire to be changed but remain fertile? Or perhaps to regain fertility?"
His mouth dropped open before he caught himself and snapped his teeth shut. The initial shock on his face turned to curiosity. "Regain fertility? That would be hugely complicated. Vampire bodies just do not work like human ones do. It does not seem likely to be something your father was working on."
"But if we understood the way the reproductive hormones worked with the virus, could the virus be modified? Make it more like lycanthropy in some way? Could you have a fertile vampire?"
He frowned. Sipped some of his maté. Then shrugged. "I suppose in theory it is possible. But it is not likely. If it was a simple change, it is likely the virus would have mutated over the years to allow it. After all, viruses like to survive. And they change and adapt. But this one has not altered to allow vampires to reproduce sexually. Which suggests it would be very difficult to achieve." He tilted his head at me. "Do you think it was one of your father's goals?"
I shook my head. "No. Not that he ever mentioned to me. He just said he wanted humans to be safe. He didn't think we'd ever have a perfect vaccine—and I don't think it was his goal, because that would wipe out the vampires, perhaps—but he wanted the vaccines to be safer. But Doctor Smith—Baxter—I think perhaps he is interested in it. Or at least Cilla was. Could you make a more infectious strain of vampires if you were trying to mess with the virus to make vampires fertile?"
Felipe's frown was more severe this time. "The answer to that is yes, Señorita Keenan. That is the danger with changing a virus, as it is difficult to predict the outcome. Particularly when the virus is something with such a far-ranging effect as this one. It is why we try to deactivate them or block their effects with immunology rather than fighting them with new live versions of themselves. It is too unpredictable. We have learned the lessons that our friends in biology learned trying to introduce foreign predators into a system to control a bug. They almost always just create a new problem. As it seems this Baxter may have discovered."
"How easy is something like that to reverse or cure or whatever?" Dan asked.
Felipe spread his hands, shrugging. "A difficult question. It would depend on exactly what was done. If we had samples of the new virus, then it becomes slightly easier."
"We have samples," Dan said. "Which means you need to remember all those secrecy forms you signed yesterday. I'm going to introduce you to Colonel Morgan at Fort Lyman. He can provide you with samples. Do you think you might be able to offer an opinion and see if there’s a connection to Robert's research?"
"Possibly. If the military have the samples, why not give them the research?"
"Well, for one thing, it technically belongs to me, or perhaps Synotech," I said. I wondered about that. Synotech hadn't, as far as I knew, come chasing after missing pieces of my dad's research after he died. Either they already had this information or this was stuff Dad had been working on independently. We were maybe going to need some legal advice as to who owned the intellectual property if there was something useful in all the data, but that was less pressing than knowing what we were dealing with to begin with. "I want to understand the implications before we take any more steps."
Dan nodded. "We're being cautious. I'd rather have an independent opinion for now."
"You do not want the military deciding to experiment themselves?" Felipe asked.
"I'm not sure I can immediately think of a military application for infectious vampirism," Dan said. "But, as I said, caution for now. If I can get you a sample, can you give me an opinion?"
"Yes. Or, if I cannot, I can recommend someone who can," Felipe said. "Because a more infectious vampire is very bad news indeed. And if this Baxter, whoever he is, has created such a thing, then he is very bad news as well. You need to find him. Bring him in alive. Bad news or not, he may be the only one who can help undo what he started."
Once the professor had gone back to work, we dove into the new information he'd unwittingly given us. I knew quite a few people at Synotech now, and the CEO's executive assistant, Hannah Lo, had been there forever. She'd known my dad, and she knew everything about the company there was to know.
A quick call to her, and my heart nearly stopped at first when she told me there wasn't a team with red shirts in the intercompany league. But when I asked if she remembered Felipe and whether there might have been a team around the time of his visit, she laughed.
"Oh yes, Professor Medina. He made quite an impression around here. He was a terrible flirt, but very nice. Handsome. Do you know him?"
"I've met him. And he's still very good-looking and a terrible flirt. He said he went to a game with my dad when he was visiting and that one of the teams wore red shirts. Do you keep records of the league games?"
"We might not have all the names, but the schedules used to go in the company newsletter back in the day. These days it's just on the intranet, but I have the files for the old newsletters. And I know we have pictures. Let me do some digging for you and I'll call you back."
"Thanks."
I was grinning as I ended the call.
We were finally on the right path. We were going to find Smith and stop all the chaos.
I'd barely had time to email Dan to tell him Hannah was looking into things when she called me back. Dad had always said she was the most efficient person he'd ever met. Apparently he hadn't been exaggerating.
"Red shirts were a company called WishLife," Hannah said. "They only played for two years. They moved their facilities here for a couple years but then made a better deal in another state and moved again. I've found a few pictures. Tell me where to send them."
I reeled off my email address and thanked her profusely, making a mental note to send her all the flowers and chocolate, and hung up.
Dan got a warrant for WishLife's employee records, and we had them a few hours later.
In the meantime, I'd done some digging around on their corporate site. They were not a big company, but I was surprised to find that, rather than being involved in the fertility game, they were firmly focused on research and treatments for childhood cancers.
Which was a very worthy field of research, but one that made me wonder exactly what had happened to Smith to make him go from "save dying children" as a life's mission to “create deadlier vampires.” Something had gone very badly wrong, and I couldn't help feeling that thing was Smith meeting Cilla.
Once we had the employee records, it didn't take long to find him. Baxter Edward Harris. He’d worked for WishLife for about five years around the same time my dad had been at Synotech as a researcher. He'd moved with them from California when they relocated the company to Seattle. And he'd resigned about six months before Tate went on his spree in Caldwell.
Convenient timing. Was that when he started to get dragged into whatever was going on? There was no way of knowing that yet. But the important thing was that we had a name and now a date of birth and a social security number. Which would make tracking him down easier.
I left Andy and Dan to do that part and went back to Esteban's company records, looking for new clues. Whoever was siphoning money off his company had to have made an initial contact somehow. Most likely with a dummy company or a real one who'd actually provided some sort of product or service and used that to slip into the system and start their scam.
The thing I'd found over the years was that people doing this kind of thing weren’t often that subtle about it. Particularly those who weren’t the hardcore organized criminals or scammers who started off intending to commit massive fraud, those who got sucked into fraud via an addiction or something going wrong in their lives that drove them to do it. And one way they tended to mess up was in how they named the companies they used to do stuff. They thought they were being clever, but there was often something subtle that linked back to them.
I pulled up the vendor lists for the companies I hadn't yet cleared for Esteban. He didn't just own dark clubs, he'd spun that money off into other businesses that were less controversial. He owned a number of commercial buildings downtown and more scattered throughout the suburbs of Seattle. He'd started buying in other cities as well. His portfolio included a leasing company and two construction companies and a majority share of the security firm who did most of the work for his clubs. I wouldn't have wanted to be the other partners there at the moment. With ongoing fraud and now the security cam hack, there had to be some uncomfortable conversations happening.
And then there was a web of other small businesses that seemed random, though I suspected he invested in ideas that his employees brought to him, or maybe he rewarded employees who did well for him with some seed money. And his clubs and holding companies. And he had a stake in a couple of financial and investment firms. Those were locked down tightly enough in their security that I doubted they were the source. But they were complicated enough that I hadn't yet cleared them.
I started a search for all the versions I could think of Baxter and Harris or combinations of those letters and the various streets from the home addresses WishLife had provided for Smith, letting it run while I went to make coffee. By the time I got back to my desk, I'd found a possible connection: Traxbet Inc, who'd sold six months of cleaning services to one of the commercial buildings Esteban owned seven years ago. I started digging.
After so many months, this was the fun part. When the might of the FBI and their investigatory powers could go to work. Between their access and my know-how, we had Traxbet's entire corporate history unearthed in short measure. Registered by a Harris Smith. Sadly, it seemed to come to a dead end about five years ago. As did the identity of Harris Smith. But it was a start. I could follow the threads. Companies were hard to kill. They left traces even after they were shut down. And what I was more interested in was what they’d done before that stage.
I got ready to dive deep into accounting geekdom and found myself grinning at the computer. Luckily no one could see me in the small office I'd been sharing with Andy. But before I could really immerse myself, Dan knocked on the door.
"Did you find something else?" I asked.
"No, but we need to tell Marco what we've found out about Smith. His real name. See if that helps shake something loose. I thought maybe you might want to be the one to do the honors."
"You don't want to do it?" I asked, puzzled.
"You're the one with the debt," Dan said. "This might help."
Ah. That made sense. Dan was being strategic. "He's not going to forgive my debt because I tell him this."
"I know, but we want to keep that relationship working well."
I raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware it wasn’t. Marco and I are fine."
"Well, then, you'll be even more fine," Dan said. He tipped his head toward the door. "So, let's go."
A man in a hurry, it seemed. "We're going to Marco's house?" I asked. "Why?"
"Because he's an Old One, and he's done us several favors in the last few days dealing with our victims. He gets a visit and a thank-you."
I wasn't sure what was really going on, but I didn't think that was the whole story. But either way, leaving the office was probably a good way to get an early night by our standards.
Dan and I talked tactics for trying to find out more about Smith as we drove, and by the time we reached Marco's, we’d come up with several good ideas.
Marco's security team let us in the gate, and we parked near the front door. I always found Marco's house somewhat unsettling by moonlight. Darkness turned the Mediterranean arches and vines to something that offered too many hiding spots for things that went bump in the night. My wolf was far too aware that there were many vampires close by and many hiding spots they could use.
And I was far too aware that the last time I was here, I'd done something foolish. I tried to quell my nerves as we were shown into Marco's office.
"Agent Gibson. Ashley, what a pleasant surprise." Marco's expression was quizzical as he greeted us, green eyes glinting in the light of the many lamps around the room. He was wearing a fine wool sweater in a deep shade of green that played up those eyes, and dark gray pants, and tan shoes I was willing to bet were handmade Italian leather. His outfit probably cost more than Dan's Jeep.
Dan nodded at him. "Lord Marco, it's good to see you. And good of you to see us on short notice."
"I am always happy to help the FBI. You know that, Agent Gibson."
I resisted the urge to add “for a price.” We were here to make nice. And I wanted Dan and Marco to get along. As long as I owed Marco a debt, it would be better if they could be civil.
"Which we appreciate, my lord," Dan said. "But perhaps this evening we can help each other."
One of Marco's dark brows lifted. "Oh? Do you have some information for me, Agent Gibson?"
Dan angled his head to me.
Right. He wanted me to tell Marco the news. I still wasn't sure why. "We've discovered Doctor Smith's real name. It's Baxter Harris. He was a medical researcher—a doctor, so that part is real."
Marco frowned. "That is not a name that is, as you say, ringing any bells."
"Maybe it will with someone. You can get the word out to whoever is looking for him."
"Do you know anything more? Clearly the man has changed his identity. Perhaps more than once."
I rattled off what we had learned. Smith's—it was too hard to start calling him Baxter in my head—date of birth and where he'd been born. His college and schools. Places he'd worked during medical school and after he'd qualified.
Marco took notes. "Thank you. That may be useful." He smiled. "Perhaps with this information, this will be over soon." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and the gesture made me think he was tired, perhaps. Vampires didn’t really show fatigue much, and their stamina only grew as they got older. It was worrying if Marco was feeling the strain of the current situation, too.
"How were the men you were helping?" I asked. "Are they doing…okay?"
"They are doing better than your friend, if that is what you wanted to know," Marco said. "One of them showed a mild reaction to the artificial blood, but with treatment, he seems to be able to tolerate it."
That was a good thing. Rhianna had been allergic. She'd had no option but to drink real blood. Not good if you were a vampire who would turn humans with a single bite.
"Both of them are still somewhat distressed," he said. "It is a bad thing, this way of turning. The change is hard even for those who have chosen it. To have all disrupted without choosing is wrong." His eyes narrowed. "But you both know something of that."
We did. Dan had been bitten by a werewolf in the line of duty. But he'd been the one who'd bitten me, hoping to prevent Tate from turning me. His gamble had paid off. But I knew he sometimes struggled with the fact that he'd turned my life upside down. But I’d made my peace with it. I wanted him. I loved him.
I smiled at Dan, touching his hand briefly. "It was an adjustment for both of us," I said. "But it's good now. Hopefully these men will come to terms with it as well."
"I hope so," Dan said.
"Will they be released from the military base?" Marco said. "It is not the best environment for a newly turned vampire. I am sure the soldiers mean well, but they look at them like specimens, not people. Your Colonel Morgan is too much the scientist, I think. And that is not necessarily a good thing, as we have learned."
"Smith is a scientist, yes, but I'm not sure he got into this for science—"
I stopped as the door of Marco's office opened and a vampire who looked like he'd maybe been in his late thirties when he turned walked in. He wore a sharply cut dark gray suit with a white shirt. The sort of thing Dan wore to work. Professional. Something about him gave me a similar vibe to the Taskforce agents. I'd have bet he was ex-military or ex-law enforcement.
My suspicions were confirmed when Marco introduced him as his head of security, Pietro.
"My lord, my apologies for interrupting," Pietro said, "but we've had a ping on the security system for that car we spotted on the way back from Fort Lyman. The same plate just registered driving down this street."
Dan's mouth flattened. "You were followed back from Fort Lyman?" he asked. "For how long?"
"Not all the way from the base," Marco said. "My driver assures me of that, and my cars are equipped to record their surroundings. But at some point, back in the city, my driver told me he thought a car was following us. He managed to shake it off after a time, and we came home."
"And you didn't want to share this information?"
"It is not an unusual thing, Agent Gibson," Marco said. "I am who I am. Sometimes people act foolishly because of it. Youngsters trying to tail the vampire. Or actual problems because I am an Old One. But as you can see, I am still here, and I am well protected."
Dan nodded acknowledgment, but he didn't look happy. "Still, right now, that’s a concern. Whoever attacked those men was able to infiltrate Infradark and evade detection. You need to be careful."
Marco shrugged a shoulder. "I am always careful. We will provide you with the license plate information, Agent Gibson. You can do with it what you wish."
He sounded vaguely annoyed. But I didn't know whether it was with Dan or with whoever had been following him.
Pietro nodded. "I'll send you the plate and the image of the vehicle, Agent Gibson. We'll spot it if it returns. Our surveillance coverage of this street is comprehensive."
I was sure it was. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Marco owned a good chunk of his street. But Esteban's security system was extensive, too, and it had been undermined.
Marco nodded, his expression easing. He focused back on me as Pietro left the room. "And you, Ashley, are you well?"
"Should I not be, my lord?"
"You let a young vampire into your head," Marco said. "I merely wanted to make sure you were not feeling any unwanted consequences."
"I trust Jase," I said. "And no, I haven't felt anything unusual."
Marco smiled. "It is good to trust your friends. I did not mean to imply that Jason would do anything deliberate that would be counterproductive. But he may do so accidentally. As I told you before, he is strong, but he is inexperienced."
"I haven't noticed anything," I said. "Is there anything in particular I should look for?"
"It is not entirely easy to say. I would say if you are having any recurrent memories of the experience that make you uneasy, it might indicate a problem. But your instincts will guide you, perhaps. I could check, if you are troubled."
He had done that after Tate. But my experience with Jason hadn't left me terrified like Tate had. Upset, yes, but that had been about seeing my father, not having Jase in my mind. That part was easy. "No, my lord. I think I'm fine. But I’ll keep it in mind. You are clearly a good teacher."
"He is a good student. And it helps that his abilities are similar to my own."
"Is that because he's from your lineage?" I asked, curious.
"It sometimes works that way," Marco said. "But vampire abilities are not always straightforward. Some of us develop talents that cannot be explained by our sires. Lord Esteban, for example. The vampire who sired him did not share his ability to manipulate emotions as he does. And while I have known some vampires in the past who had similar talents, his is the strongest by far. We do not know why these oddities occur. But it proved useful to him. As Jason's talents will to him, I hope. Though he has more freedom to decide in these times."
"These times?"
"In the past, before we revealed ourselves, vampire society was far more violent. Out of necessity. There could not be too many of us in any one place or it would draw attention. The kind of attention we did not want. Therefore, the strong ones took power and made sure there was a degree of control over who was siring and how we lived. Of course, that meant that when a new vampire was found to have strong talents, they usually had to challenge their sire or leave and fight for power somewhere else. Not conducive to a peaceful existence."
I studied him. He looked not much older than Dan, so it was hard to believe he was speaking of his own experiences over the centuries. His eyes sometimes gave him away, showed the age he carried. And the power. But right now, he looked almost…regretful.
"Your Jason will not have to fight for power unless he chooses to," Marco said. "His talents will bring him success if he wishes to use them, but he will not be forced to fight for his survival."
"Not forced, but you are teaching him how to use them anyway?" Dan asked.
"That is a protective measure. To stop him hurting anyone accidentally," Marco said. The words were a little too smooth. Marco might be speaking of more peaceful times now, but the truth was he still had his power base to defend, and it was entirely likely that he would use Jase to his own ends if the need ever arose.
I hoped it didn't. Because I would protect Jase if it came to that.
"I see," Dan said. I thought maybe he felt much the same as me.
"Does Niko share Esteban's talents?" I asked.
Marco shook his head. "Not that I know of. He is pretty, of course, and charming when he wants to be. But no, I do not think he has dazzled Jason with any psychic interference. Just the old-fashioned way."
"He is pretty," I agreed. "They do seem to enjoy each other. And Jase is smart."
Marco nodded. "Yes. He and I have discussed the complications of him being involved with Niko when Niko's loyalties are firmly tied to a different lineage. But we will leave them to work it out. If something goes wrong, it can be dealt with."
"I keep an eye on Niko," I said. "He's not getting any information about the case from me or Jason." It made me feel better to know there was little chance of Niko seducing it out of Jase the way Esteban might have been able to. "Wait, you don't think Esteban might be able to get to Jase?"
Marco shook his head. "Not without Jason remembering that he had. Esteban does not have much ability to cloud a mind. To be able to erase a memory rather than just the fog of thrall or a temporary distraction to get away is a vanishingly rare skill."
Well, here was an opportunity I hadn't expected. I'd been going to ask Jase about this, but if Marco was in a sharing mood, I wasn't going to let the chance slide. "How rare?"
"Rare enough. I can do it, after a fashion. That is why I offered to ease your memories of Tate. I might not have been able to make you forget entirely, but I could fade the emotions connected to the events. Make them feel distant, if you will. There are a few others I know of who can do this, too. I have heard rumors of those who can do more. But I have never met one." He smiled ruefully. "Or maybe I have, and I do not remember. Such a skill would be kept hidden, I think. It would be dangerous in the hands of someone with bad intentions."
My father had clearly found someone. "Would you do the same for a child? A teenager?"
His headshake was decisive. "I would not. Well, perhaps I would be moved to ease a trauma, but no, I can think of no other reason to interfere with a child's mind. It would be too easy to inflict harm. We have taboos around the young for good reason. They are off-limits to turn. Off-limits to feed from at all. "
Well, I guess that ruled Marco out as the vampire who had helped my father. I knew it was illegal for vampires to turn anyone under twenty-one. Their taboos on turning children were so strong that they'd actually insisted on that being written into law when the first agreements between humans and supernaturals were struck. It was the reason why children weren't vaccinated against Stoker's either, because there was a risk they would turn. But I realized I'd never really questioned why that was the rule. If there was a deeper reason beyond it just seeming wrong.
"They do not adjust well, cara. Teenage minds do not seem to cope with such a drastic change. And even for the few who do adjust, it becomes more difficult to remain trapped in a teenage body as you age. In past times, it was harder for a child to do anything independently. Perhaps these days a teenager might be able to pass for older and not have so many issues with that side of things. But even if that were true, it is too risky. As I understand it, it was rare for a vampire made too young to not choose the sunlight eventually, if they were not killed by others."
I bit my lip. Was that why Rhianna had coped so badly? She was still young. Only just twenty-one. But it seemed pointless to ask. I couldn't go back and change what happened to her.
Marco shrugged, shaking his head. "And even if that were not the case, missing children were too likely to incite the humans against us in the past. Foolish to put yourself at risk when there are so many adults around to feed from."
Well, that was clear, if somewhat creepily pragmatic.
"Is it possible a vampire with that kind of power could have gotten into Esteban's club?"
Marco frowned, expression darkening. "Anything is possible. They would have to be very strong when so many who work there are vampires and shifters. Generally, our powers do not work on vampires the same way. I can command someone in my lineage, but it would be difficult for me to cloud Esteban's memory. And Esteban's shifters would be well trained in shielding." His frown deepened. "But a vampire with such powers might explain why these two new victims have little memory of what happened. It could, of course, just be the trauma. Or the result of the change that has been imposed on them so suddenly…but it could also be an influence."
"Would you be able to tell? If you—" Dan stopped and waved a hand in the air. "—looked or whatever it is you would need to know?"
"That would depend on how good the vampire responsible is. There may be signs. There may not."
"Would you look?" Dan asked. "I know we’ve imposed on your time a lot lately, my lord, but—"
Marco dismissed his objections with a flick of his hand. "Of course, Agent Gibson. You know our interests are aligned on this issue. If there is a vampire who is both infectious and powerful in this way, then the problem is more urgent than we have considered before. Especially if they have now decided that they are out to cause trouble." He turned to me. "How are your shields, Ashley? You should be careful."
"My shields are strong," I said. "Maybe too strong."
"In what way?"
"Well, they have kept several vampires out so far. Even when I'm not trying."
Marco looked startled. "I see. Well, normally I would say that requires some assistance from your Alpha, but perhaps right now, stronger is better than not. Do you want me to try? I am stronger than most vampires you are likely to encounter."
I took an involuntary step backward, and Dan rumbled a growl. I made myself stop. Held up a hand. It wasn't a pleasant idea, but Marco was right. If I could resist him, I should be able to resist most vampires.
"Sure, let's try." I met Marco's green gaze, picturing the moonlight and the glass around me.
He stared at me for a moment, eyes narrowing. Then he reached out to touch my cheek, murmuring, "Let me in, cara."
I braced myself, waiting for the rush of green wind in my head. But nothing happened. I blinked.
So did Marco. He stepped back. "Impressive. You have learned well."
I didn't think learning had much to do with it. At this point, it was instinct born of trauma. But I'd worry about that problem later, if I wanted to. After all, I wasn't planning on letting any vampire back into my head ever.