Romani Armada (35 page)

“We are an odd combination,” Deonne admitted. “Everyone always seems so surprised when they learn we are together.”

Adán gave another chuckle. “Much as he and I were not natural friends.”

“You were not friends?” Deonne asked, surprised.

“No one was a friend of Justin Edward Kelly when he was human. He was an angry man. He had many reasons to be angry. I know he has told you about his human life. There was much injustice done to him and he had good reason to be bitter. But he would keep those reasons next to his heart, so that he could brood over them, always.” Adán shrugged. “I did not know this about him when I made him. I only saw a man being hunted down like a dog and killed like one, too. I corrected the unfairness of the situation by making him and giving him a second chance.” He smiled. “It took many years before Justin learned to let go of the anger.”

Deonne recalled the glimpses she had seen of Justin’s white hot temper, the one he hid from nearly everyone. “There’s still traces of that anger in him,” she told Adán.

“His temper? Oh, he always had that. It was a gift from his father, I think. The Black Irish blood runs thick in Justin.”

Deonne let out a breath, feeling some of the tension and frustrations of the day blow out with her breath. She had grown to like these chats with Adán. “Is Justin at home?” she asked.

“Home and waiting for you.”

She could just spot the apartment building, ahead, through the thin fringe of trees that circled the building. It peeped out from behind the bigger complex that sat almost on the river bank. The stony path that led to their building branched off from the firmer, more permanent sidewalk that edged the stone worked river bank.

Adán brushed his fingertips over her hand, the one tucked under his arm. It drew her attention back to him. “I do not frighten you anymore, do I?”

Deonne shook her head. “No, Adán. Not anymore.”

“Do you trust me?”

“A Spanish Romani?” She smiled. “It was you who told me your primary function as a child was to steal anything that wasn’t tied down and your career of petty larceny stepped up as you grew older, until you were caught and drafted into the Spanish navy. None of that inspires trust in a girl, Adán.”

He was smiling. “You trust Justin. He was an outlaw in his time. That does not seem to bother you.”

“I didn’t know about his human life,” she pointed out. “Justin doesn’t share as easily as you.”

“I simply tell stories,” Adán replied. “As long as the stories entertain the listener, then it is immaterial if the story is about me, or Justin, or you.”

“You’ve been talking about me to other people?” She halted.

Adán turned to face her. “I have been talking to Justin. There is no one else I care to tell stories to, here, besides you.”

“Why
did
you come here, Adán? I mean, why did you come to Liping at all? You seem to be the sort of man who likes people around him. The more, the better. Contemplating your navel doesn’t suit you.”

The humor in his expression faded. “I grew tired of it all,” he said flatly. “Finally, after more than five hundred years of watching the world improve itself and humans developing into the most amazing species, I’d had enough of the details, the pettiness, and the constant focus on the individual.” He looked around, as if he were looking for hidden listeners. “I wanted it all to end. Just for a while. Then the g-train opened up western China and they began forming these villages…I thought, perhaps, sometime in seclusion might give me back the spirit I had lost.”

“Then it is pure coincidence that you came here?”

“There was an apartment lease that went up for sale, quite suddenly. Finding an apartment in the western provinces is impossible, these days. There’s a five year waiting list. But this lease appeared as available, and I just happened to be on the net when it showed up. I bid on it immediately, but as it was, there were fifty-five bids submitted before mine.” He grinned. “I have more financial muscle than them, so I won.”

“I had no idea wanting to live in China was so…popular,” Deonne breathed.

“Then you did not arrange your lease?”

“The Agency did.” She thought it through. “If there really is a five year waiting list, I’m going to guess they went back in time further than this year – far enough back to get the leases they wanted, for this year. They’re good at sorting that type of thing out.”

“The Agency…” Adán picked up her hand. “I think this Agency of yours is the reason you and Justin think the way you do. You do not think about yourselves.”

“Yes, I do,” Deonne replied. “I think about myself all the time and I’ve done even more of it in the last few days than I ever would have thought possible.”

“But always in the context of a higher frame of reference,” Adán told her. “You think about your life in relationship to the rest of the world and time itself. Most humans see the world from ground level. Justin used to, but the Agency has changed him. You, also. You both see the world from an eagle’s perspective. No, perhaps even higher than that. You are both whole-world thinkers. I have never met anyone like you, but I am guessing the members of your Agency are all thinkers like you.”

“Quite possibly,” Deonne agreed. “I don’t recall any of them being petty. Not for long.”

“You like them,” Adán guessed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Is that why you want to become a vampire?”

She bit her lip. “That is…complicated,” she said slowly. “I didn’t know what vampires were truly like before I approached them about the contract. You have to work with them or live with them to really understand them because vampires are
so
closed-mouthed about themselves. Except you.”

Adán grinned. “Only for you, do I tell stories about my life. Only you would understand. Humans still think vampires are pretty, indolent night creatures only to be found on the net and in movies.” He picked up her hand. “It is yet another quality of yours that I find most irresistible, this knowing.”

There was a look in his eyes, one she had grown to recognize. “Adán,” she warned. “Let go of my hand.” But when she tried to slide her fingers from his, his grip tightened.

He looked at her with his chin down, his dark gaze steady beneath the thick brows. “I do not frighten you, but you are still wary. Tell me how I can take that away from you, that wariness. I would have you...like me.”

“I do like you,” Deonne told him honestly.

His jaw rippled. “Not enough to trust me,” he replied.

Her heart was thundering. “What is it you want, Adán?”

“I want you to love me as you are supposed to.”

“That’s what one possible future, a future that could well be some sort of dead end in time. Is loving you so important? Does collecting another heart service your ego so much you would hurt Justin to acquire it?”

His arm slid around her waist and pulled her against him, in a quick move that she barely could see. Vampire speed. It had been a while since a vampire had used their enhanced abilities against her, and the last one to do it had been Justin...for the very best of reasons. The reminder made her already thudding heart lurch in a way that made her feel weak and dizzy. “Adán,” she whispered.

Just push him away. Do it!
she railed at herself.

But she couldn’t. Confusing feelings were washing through her in waves, making her pause. Making her hesitate.

Adán was watching her face, absorbing everything she gave away with every tiny breath and movement.

“It’s not fair,” she whispered.

“The world is not a fair place. You have to even matters up for yourself, if you want fair,” Adán replied.

“You can see everything about me and figure out the rest, while I can’t even begin to unravel what you’re thinking.” She grimaced. “I’m usually much better at it, too.”

“So Justin told me.” He smiled. “I am glad to know I have you fooled, at least for a little while.”

“Why?” she demanded.

He gave the smallest shrug. “Why does anyone hide their feelings? For protection.”

“You? You need protection?” She laughed.

“This is all very new to me,” he said. “I warned you, did I not? You are a most novel attraction.”

“You make me sound like a carny ride,” she complained.

“Oh, you are all that and more,” he murmured and she realized with a start that his head was close to hers. He was looking at her mouth.

Her heart leapt high and hard. “No, Adán, don’t,” she pleaded. “I can’t fight you, but I beg you. Don’t.”

“Because you do not wish my kiss, or because you do?”

Deonne couldn’t answer because she didn’t know the answer.

“Deonne,” Justin called. “I’ve made coffee.”

Adán looked over her shoulder at their apartment building. Then he smiled and turned her loose. “Go drink your coffee,” he told her.

How long might they have stood there, locked in that delicate point of balance? Or would Adán have taken his kiss? Deonne would never find out now.

A deep sense of relief washed over her, which didn’t erase the tiny drop of disappointment nesting inside her.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Low Earth Orbit, 2264 A.D.:
It was quiet in the limousine. Even Brenden, who could keep a conversation going all by himself if he was in the mood, sat sullenly in his corner.

They were all damp from the heavy fall of rain that had begun just as they were heading for the location where Kieren had parked the car and bribed a local to guard it. As a result, the smell of wet clothing and hair and warm bodies filled the limousine. The air scrubbers were working overtime to freshen the air and the almost silent hiss of the vents was the only sound to be heard inside the cab, as Kieren lifted the car into the air and lined it up for the initial trajectory and climb.

“Rome in forty minutes, sir,” Kieren told Cáel quietly. “Hold your horses, gentlemen.”

The limousine shot into the air with a high scream of the engines, pressing them all back into their seats.

“Well, that was a waste of time,” Brenden said, sounding disgusted.

“Why on earth did you think he would have the skills and men we need, anyway?” Ryan asked. “He’s clearly on a downward bend to self-annihilation.”

“We all get to make that choice sometime or another,” Brenden said quietly, and Cáel’s gut clenched. This was an aspect of long life he had never considered before. Choosing to end it by whatever creative means one could devise would be common, amongst those whose lives stretched on endlessly into the future. When one did not fear a sudden or early death, embracing it deliberately would perhaps be a relief.

Cáel fought hard not to look at Ryan in the mirror that let him see the back seats, as he let his shock dissipate. Ryan knew him too well and would read his expression.

“I’m not judging him,” Ryan replied. “But I am wondering why you thought he had potential.”

“He does. He did,” Brenden amended.

“I don’t think he’s suicidal,” Kieren said.

“Why not?” Ryan asked, his tone sharp with interest.

“He has been living this way for quite some time, judging by the food that was in the cupboards and the cold drawer. There was nothing in the apartment that would tell me that, as a human, he was making plans to end his life.”

“You’ve had experience profiling such people?” Ryan asked.

“I have,” Kieren said.

“He’s not human, though,” Brenden growled.

Cáel spoke up. “Could someone explain to me this two minute thing? I didn’t follow that at all, but you two seemed to understand perfectly. Is it common with vampires?”

“Common, no,” Ryan replied. “But it isn’t completely unheard of, not since time travel became a known fact.”

“What is he doing to himself that involves two minutes, which had you two so freaked out?” Cáel asked and saw in the mirror Ryan and Brenden exchange glances.

Brenden cleared his throat. “Sometime…a while ago, if Kieren is right, Cadeyrn Rhydder jumped back in time by a minute or two. Not far back. Just a wink’s worth. Just enough to live as human in his current life, for as long as the symbiot would let him. He reverts back to vampire just long enough to let the symbiot recover, then jumps back again. He’s been doing it long enough that his apartment looks like a human lives in it. That’s what Kieren saw.”

“But why?” Cáel said. “If the risks are as bad as you told him? He already knew what he was risking, so why do it?”

“I suspect,” Kieren said, his voice neutral and non-judgmental, “that whatever is driving him into the deep end of a bottle is the same thing that is making him want to live life as a human.”

The deep ascent of the limousine gradually eased and all of them shifted in their seats as gravity returned to nearly normal once more. The sky was a deep, dark indigo around them. They were into the upper atmosphere now.

“What would make him want to do that, Brenden?” Ryan asked. “You know the man.”

“Knew,” Brenden amended. “He’s always had a large sized chip on his shoulder, that one. But as a fighter….” He shook his head. “‘tis a pity. He was one of the best, once.”

“What is the chip?” Cáel pressed.

Brenden looked awkward all of a sudden. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “He’s Malsinne,” he said. “So were the rest of his men, as far as Fahmido could judge from description alone. They were all cut-throats, thieves and gamblers. They liked to hire themselves out as mercenaries – Rhydder channeled most of their aggression by finding them solid, well-paying assignments. He trained them himself and they were a force to be reckoned with. But they all had issues, each and every one of them. It wasn’t until the research into casts started up that we figured out Rhydder had pulled the misfits of the Malsinne cast into a semi-cohesive unit. But he had to use a bullwhip and a cattle prod to keep them in line, most of the time.”

“Malsinne?” Ryan repeated, astonishment thick in his voice. “You know they don’t work well with the agency structure…what were you thinking, Brenden?”

“Kieren said he wanted an army, one that wouldn’t be interested in time travelling. Well, Rhydder had that army once and the Malsinne don’t time travel.”