Blood Revealed (31 page)

“So the military is out,” Garrett said. “But there are more civilians out there hunting than there are professional soldiers.”

“Most of them badly in need of training and expertise.”

Garrett frowned. “Is it right to profit from this?”

“You think the Max Balfours of the world are not going to turn this into a revenue stream?”

“Except they don’t have the vampire expertise they need,” Garrett said.

“And here we are, waiting.”

Garrett considered it. “Nial keeps railing at us about serving humans, protecting them. Instead of trying to force ourselves down their throats, we can use economic forces. People appreciate what they pay for more than they do free advice. If we sell our expertise, then we know that whoever steps up to pay for it is really interested in learning.”

“And it would be nice to be able to pay for the roof over my head, too,” Roman said dryly.

“Like you’re going to run out of money anywhere in the next millennium.” Garrett stretched and got to his feet, reaching for his jeans. “We’ve got a day or so before we have to present ourselves in Boston. Let’s go and tell Nial the good news.”

* * * * *

St. Petersburg, Russia.

When Sasha arrived, Marcus was sitting in one of the big armchairs in the foyer of the hotel, watching one of four big-screen TVs posted around the foyer, covering up the beautiful gilding and paintwork on the columns.

It fascinated Marcus that despite their aversion to all things western, the Russians had no objection to consuming western TV like they did their vodka. The screen he was watching was tuned to the BBC and although it was late afternoon here, the BBC was running one of their early-morning entertainment shows.

He sat up and started paying more attention when Ilaria appeared on the screen. The cameras had caught her stepping out of the cab and heading into the hotel. She was wearing a brown velvet cape thing that stopped short of her legs, which were encased in snug denim. The boots had ridiculously high heels on them. Marcus still didn’t know how she walked on them, despite watching her walk on them a lot. Especially as she walked away from him.

This was a gossip show, so they didn’t spend endless minutes asking her questions. They did pan across the portico as she threw herself into Rick’s arms, wound her legs around his waist and peppered his face with kisses, before kissing him properly. Marcus started to laugh, especially when Rick wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back just as firmly, despite the cameras on them. Rick was unbending, an inch at a time.

“You laugh, despite not being there with them?” Sasha had strolled up to the side of the armchair without Marcus noticing. He was wearing a Russian military uniform that had no betraying signature insignia to tell the world that he actually belonged to the GRU.

Marcus got to his feet. “It stuns me how much the media likes Ilaria. She brings us more goodwill in one day then we can build with a million Summanus carcasses at our feet.”

Sasha hugged him warmly, then stepped back and held his shoulders. His eyes were grave. “Is that why you come to visit me so unexpectedly?”

“Sort of.” Marcus glanced around the foyer.

“This is a secure hotel,” Sasha said. “That is why they permit the display of English chat shows. Everyone who walks in here is cleared, first.”

Marcus glanced around again. “There’s no surveillance that I noticed and no security barriers to pass through.”

Sashes smile grew broader. “Then Russia can still surprise the west. It is new technology. Your phone is scanned every time you stepped through the doors. If you are unwelcome here, you would be surrounded by guards before you pass the second doors.”

“That is new. I didn’t come here to swap spy stories, though.”

“So you are not here on behalf of the CIA?”

“This is off-book. Nial sent me.”

“Ah.” Sasha turned and draped his arm over Marcus’s shoulders. “There is a very good bar here. They serve excellent vodka. We will drink and you will tell me everything about the others that I do not know already. And I warn you, we know much more than you think we do.”

Marcus let himself be drawn toward the dim bar entrance on the other side of the foyer. “And somewhere in there I get to tell you why I’m here, right?”

“It can only be something unpleasant, as the world is a most unpleasant place now.” Sasha sounded morose. “We need much vodka before you say what you must say. Then I will be in a better mood to hear it.”

“As long as you’re being positive about it…” Marcus wasn’t too upset. Sasha was a typical Russian. There was pacing and civility in the way they approached business, that helped grease the skids. A few glasses of vodka, toasts to everyone important in their lives, then they could get down to business.

His only concern was that he was completely out of practice when it came to drinking. Neither Ilaria nor Rick drank and there were not many other people he cared to sit and share shots with.

It was just as well that Sasha was one of those few.

* * * * *

Patrick had never had to cook a meal in his life. So just before Jake and the twins would be downstairs for breakfast, he quietly tugged Dominic out of the bed and pulled him downstairs.

Dominic looked puzzled. “You can’t even cook eggs?” He shrugged. “You’re going to have to learn fast, then. I’m not going to haul my ass out of bed every morning just because of your delicate disposition.”

“I’m more concerned about the fact that three hungry teenagers are about to come downstairs. I prefer that Blythe get her sleep.”

Dominic looked at him from under his brow, his dark eyes amused. “But it’s fine if I go short on sleep?”

“You weren’t swinging a sword all night.”

Dominic started opening cupboards, locating things. “I was still awake.” He pulled out an electric skillet and dug deeper into the cupboard, then emerged holding the electric cord. “Don’t sit down, you lazy bugger. Get your ass over here. I’m not doing this all by myself.”

Patrick moved behind the island, where Dominic was setting up the skillet.

“There’ll be eggs in the fridge. And grab the milk while you’re there. Then you can put the kettle on. Make sure it’s full.” Dominic was opening and closing more cupboards as he spoke, adding ingredients to the counter next to the skillet.

Patrick turned to the fridge to get the milk.

Ten minutes later, one of the girls appeared at the kitchen entrance. She looked around. “Where’s Mom?”

Patrick looked up from measuring coffee into the filter. “Sleeping. You’re going to have to put up with our cooking this morning. We didn’t get in until around four last night.”

He wasn’t entirely certain which of the twins he was speaking to. As much as they hated to hear it, the two girls really were identical. It was hard for anyone to tell them apart.

Dominic looked up from beating the eggs in the bowl. “Do you want to set the table, Simone?”

“I’m Eloise.” She sounded deeply offended.

“You’re Simone,” Dominic shot back. He gave her a smile that twinkled. “His name is Heath, right?”

Jake brushed past her. “Just set the table, sis.”

Simone’s face colored. She flounced over to the island, pulled out the drawer and began to rattle cutlery.

Jake settled at the table.

“Jake, could you get coffee mugs out, please?” Patrick said. “I don’t know where you keep them.”

“In the overhead cupboard behind you,” Jake replied. He didn’t move.

Patrick looked at him sharply. “I asked you to do it.”

Jake looked amused. “What, you’re my mother, now?”

Simone had stopped pulling out cutlery. She watched them both.

“Your mother has been out all night, working to keep you safe.”

Jake snorted. “In between screwing you two.”

Patrick didn’t have to speed up his movements very much. He stepped over to the table, picked Jake up by the scruff of his shirt and marched him over to the cupboard, then held him until he had his balance. Jake threw his arms out, a breathless little shriek emerging from him. To Jake it would’ve felt like one moment he had been on the chair and the next he was in front of the cupboard.

Patrick didn’t keep his voice down as he spoke directly to Jake from his position right behind his shoulder. “You’re not going to be a clichéd drama queen, are you? Just because your mother has a semblance of a life that isn’t completely focused upon you?”

Jake twisted his head, until he could see Patrick from the corner of his eye. He licked his lips. “Are you moving in, then? Because I don’t remember anyone asking us if you could.”

Patrick gripped his shoulder and turned him so that he was looking at him directly. “We’re not moving in. For a start, the house isn’t big enough for all of us. So if anyone was going to move, it would be you.”

“You’ve been here for weeks.”

“A week and a bit,” Simone said.

Patrick nodded. “It has been more convenient to stay here, than to make the trip back and forth from Bel Air. We’re still trying to figure out details. If and when anyone moves in with anyone, we’ll sit down and explain it to you. Don’t ever think you get to have a vote in how your mother runs her life.”

“That sucks,” Jake muttered.

“It’s called being a kid,” Patrick said. “When you hit eighteen, you can start making decisions for yourself. Until then, you have to trust that your mother will make decisions that she feels are the best for you, as well as her.” He patted his shoulder and dropped his hand. “So get the mugs out, will you?”

Dominic poured eggs into the frying pan and they hissed, breaking the silence in the room.

Then Simone began laying out cutlery with small clinks.

Patrick waited.

Finally, Jake shrugged. He turned and opened the cupboard and Patrick hid his relief. He moved back to the island and glanced at Dominic, who gave a tiny shrug.

“Oh, wow, that smells so good!” Eloise stood at the door, sniffing. “You guys can cook breakfast whenever you want, if it’s going to smell like that.”

“Thank you,” Dominic said. “Perhaps you should wait until you taste it?”

Eloise picked up the remote control that sat on the corner of the island and turned on the TV. Immediately, CNN blared out at high volume, the reporter frantically talking over the top of the sound of people screaming in the background. She cranked down the volume. Everyone’s attention had already been drawn by the images of Summanus moving around in the dark, their long arms swinging, as they swiped at humans running around them, past them, and away from them as fast as they could go.

“Man, there’s dozens of them,” Jake said.

Patrick glanced at the log line at the bottom of the screen. Sao Paulo, Brazil. He looked at Dominic. “Is there anyone in Chile that you should make contact with, just to check on them?”

“Is that where you’re from?” Simone asked. “I thought you were from Mexico.”

“I’m from LA, now,” Dominic said. “I do have family in Santiago.” His gaze shifted to Patrick and he could see the worry in his eyes. “I haven’t spoken to anyone for years. Not since….” He began to stir the eggs, concentrating on them. “They think I’m dead.”

Underneath the sound of CNN, the kitchen was silent. Everyone was looking at him.

“Does it matter that they think you’re dead?” Jake said. “Everything’s changed now.” He pointed at the TV. “Just look at that.” His expression was pinched and his eyes wide, like a hurt child. Childhood wasn’t all that many years behind him, Patrick reminded himself. Even though the boy stood nearly as high as Dominic, he was still trying to figure out the ways of the world.

“Perhaps we should turn the TV off while we have breakfast,” Patrick said.

“God, yes please!” Simone said. “I’m so sick of hearing about the Others. It never ends.”

Eloise turned off the TV and the silence was a relief.

Dominic was doing mysterious things with spices and taco chips that he had pulled out of the back of the cupboard. “You know,” he said, speaking casually. “It’s possible this war could last for years.”

Jake pressed his lips together. “How many years?”

“It may not end before you are officially an adult,” Dominic said softly. “All of you should start thinking about how you’re going to live your lives with the Summanus all around you.”

This time the silence was all almost profound. Patrick’s heart began to beat. He could see the fear in their eyes, as what Dominic said opened up their perceptions beyond the self-absorbed concentration on their own little affairs that was so typical of teenagers.

“They’re not going away, are they?” Simone said softly.

Patrick could see Dominic hesitate. So he spoke, instead. He used the same calm voice that Dominic had used. “No, they’re probably not leaving. Not without some sort of miracle and we seem to be short on those these days.”

“So….” Eloise began. “Things are never going to go back to the way they were. We are always going to be fighting them, aren’t we?”

Patrick nodded.

The same loaded silence filled the room.

Then Eloise picked up the coffee mugs that Jake had been filling and silently began adding them to the table in front of each place.

Jake brought over cream and sugar, while Simone laid out plates in front of Dominic for him to serve up the eggs.

They were all sitting around the table before anyone spoke. Breakfast was in front of them, except for Patrick, who sat at the head of the table opposite Dominic, in front of an empty place.

“Is there any point in going to school, then?” Jake asked.

“What you think?” Patrick replied.

“I think we’re going to school, anyway.” He sounded peeved.

No one mentioned the Others after that, even though the conversation flowed easily, free of any tension. It was as though everyone was trying to avoid the subject.

And that was just fine with Patrick. The Summanus had inverted his life, too. He should follow Dominic’s advice and figure out what sort of life he wanted, now that the Others were here.

He was long overdue for some serious thinking.

Republic of Karelia, Russia