Fallen Embers (24 page)

“As advice goes, however,” Damian continued, seemingly unaware of her distress, “that particular suggestion is only useful when the conclusions one has reached are in error. If the conclusions are correct, I can see no harm in arriving at them more quickly.”

“Suit yourself,” Georgia replied wearily as she gave up on caution and brushed boldly past him. “You always do.”

Georgia was shaking with reaction by the time she reached the door to her own rooms. Had Damian noticed her condition? Given how wretched she was feeling, it seemed almost impossible that anyone should not—especially not someone who had mistrusted her from the start, who had made it a life-long habit, where she was concerned, to search for any weakness that he could exploit. Even now, he was probably whispering in Conrad's ear, poisoning his mind against her…

“Where have you been?” Christian demanded the moment she stepped through the door, startling her so badly she nearly let out a shriek. She hadn't even sensed his presence. Clearly, the illness was progressing even faster than before.

It took her a moment to recover her equilibrium, to pull herself together enough to respond. “Do not take that tone with me!” She eyed him warily as she forced herself to cross the room, forced her features to betray nothing but annoyance. “You forget to whom you're speaking.”

He looked so worried, so concerned, but also healthy and strong. All she wanted to do was curl up in his arms, wipe away the worry that marred his handsome features, and apologize, both for the harshness of her tone and the mess that, all too soon, she would be leaving for him to clean up. She wanted to listen while he argued with her one more time—telling her again that they would find a way, a new treatment, a miracle, a cure. He spoke so fervently about these fairytales he'd convinced himself were true, all about luck and breakthroughs and promising leads, that for just a moment she would find herself believing in them too.

“You can't keep doing this,” he insisted in pleading tones.

Georgia nodded. “I know, darling. You're entirely right. But I've had rather a long and tiring day and I don't wish to discuss it. Why don't you run along and find yourself something to eat? Whatever you do, however, stay well away from Brennan.”

“Brennan?” Christian's eyes widened in alarm. “What are you talking about? Why do you mention him?”

“You were asking about him the other night, were you not? In connection with Julie? I don't know if Conrad is planning on rehiring him, but until I tell you otherwise, you are not to feed from him. Is that understood?”

“Are you saying he's here? Now? What about Julie? Has she come back yet?”

“I have no idea. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like nothing better than a warm bath and a long nap.” She closed her bedroom door behind her and turned the lock. He was right on one count. She could
not
keep doing this—not forever, not even for very much longer.

Julie had said goodbye to her brother and was headed for the house when it hit her. Brennan was here. And he was in trouble.

She didn't stop to question how she could know something like that or what it could mean; she broke into a run, not slowing until she reached the house. The door to the salon was closed, which usually indicated a private conversation was in progress. Normally, that was the kind of thing she would respect—tonight she barged right in still carrying the bags she'd been bringing up from the car.

“What's going on?” she demanded as she set her bags down inside the door.

Three sets of startled eyes stared back at her. They quickly filled with relief at the sight of her and Julie felt a small thrill of satisfaction. Score one point for the instinct that had told her she was needed here.

She scanned the room quickly, noting everything that was out of place. Conrad, his expression grim, was seated behind the small desk where Damian usually worked. That was something different. A large checkbook lay open on the desk's surface and a pen was clutched tightly in Conrad's hand. Meanwhile Damian, hovering beside him, appeared flustered and upset. On the opposite side of the desk, a distraught-looking Brennan had paused in the act of pacing the floor. She zeroed in on him: the most obvious anomaly.

“Brennan? What's wrong? Why are you here?”

“Parker's missing,” Brennan replied in a voice that was raw and filled with pain. “We think he's been kidnapped.”

“Oh, sweetie, no!” Julie hurried to his side and wrapped her arms around him. Tremors of misery coursed through his body. She'd have been heartsick at the thought of any child being lost or hurt or missing, but this was Brennan's little boy… “How did it happen? When? What do they want?” The checkbook suddenly made sickening sense. “Is this about money?”

“No! I don't know. Maybe?” Brennan gazed at her helplessly. “No one's asked for anything yet. It's been almost a whole day now and you know what they say about the first twenty-four hours!”

“I know.” She tightened her grip around his waist, wishing neither of them were aware of the facts. The odds of finding a missing person alive lessened dramatically after the first twenty-four hours.

“He disappeared sometime last night,” Brennan continued. “But it was morning before his mother realized he was gone. She didn't have to work today so she slept in, and then… She
says
it was a perfectly ordinary evening. She swears she wasn't drinking, and that there was no one else in the house with her, but there's no sign of forced entry, and…and she doesn't
remember
stuff. Like she doesn't know what time she went to bed, for example. I can tell the police think she's hiding something, and… I don't know what to think. I can't believe she'd hurt him, but he can't just have vanished!”

“Of course she wouldn't hurt him,” Julie said. “I'm sure she would never hurt her baby.” She was eerily aware of the fact that she sounded just like Linda now. And maybe it was true and maybe it wasn't, but bad things did happen, and people
did
vanish.

But not this time. Not if she had
anything
to say about it. She was sick of losses, sick of sitting by while people walked away, disappeared from her life or made decisions
for
her.

Raising her head, she focused her attention on the other men in the room. “What can we do to help? There's gotta be something, right?”

Conrad heaved a frustrated sigh as he and Damian shared a look. Julie could read the helplessness and concern in their expressions—as well as the jaded resignation that came from having seen too much of the world's wickedness. Beneath it all, she also read a willingness to do violence, veiled, but unmistakably there. No wonder Brennan was shaking so hard. How long had he been in here with the two of them? However long it had been, it was long enough.

“Why don't you wait for me in the hall?” she suggested, eager to put as much distance as she could between Brennan and the most immediate sources of danger.

“I have promised to provide you with whatever you need in terms of ransom,” Conrad said in a voice that strove to be calm. “That offer still stands. I have offered to pay for a private investigator, although I am confident your police are doing everything they can. I don't know what else you expect from me.”

“The police?” Brennan repeated, his voice cracking with emotion. “They think Valerie did it! Or her pimp, or her dealer, or who the fuck knows? It's bullshit—all of it. They're not doing shit to find him!”

“Brennan!” Julie shook his arm to get his attention. “Stop. It'll be all right. We'll figure something out. I promise.”

Brennan nodded, but he cast one more pleading look in Conrad's direction. “If you could just talk to your people. Just talk to them, please! Someone must know something! And I don't care what they want from me. Whatever it is, they can have it. I'll do anything.”

Julie blinked in surprise. “Wait. What? You think it was
us
? You think
vampires
took him?”

“No,” Conrad said, biting each word off with precision, speaking now in a voice that even Julie found daunting. “That is
not
possible.”

Julie spun Brennan around and began to push him toward the door. “I'll be right out,” she promised as she shoved him into the foyer. “Just give me a minute.” She shut the door firmly behind him and then, just for good measure, she turned the lock. Then she turned back to face her family.

“Damian,” Conrad said, still clearly furious. “Can you explain to me how someone who has been in my employ for almost a year should have somehow reached the conclusion that I'm some sort of mafia overlord, or that I'm somehow kept apprised of
all
criminal activity in this city? What are we doing to the staff that is causing them to form such low opinions of us?”

“
Capo
,” Damian replied distractedly. “Not overlord.
Capo
or boss. Possibly don, though I've always suspected that's only in fiction. In any case, no, I have no idea why he should think that.”

“Would you two stop it?” Julie snapped, feeling annoyed with both of them. “He's upset. That's why. He's grasping at straws. Everything is not always about
you
.”

The two men stared at her. Finally, Conrad inclined his head in agreement. “Of course. You're entirely correct.” Then he got up from the desk and went and stood in front of the window, his back to the room.

“We're very glad you're home,
chica
,” Damian said, a hint of reproach in his tone. “And you know we value your input. But that's no excuse for your lack of manners. Your grandfather has every reason to be concerned with this situation.”

“I know. I just—”

“Of course Brennan's upset,” Damian continued. “As who would not be? We're all upset and we all share in his concern. However, I hope
you
realize we're being as forbearing as possible.”

Julie sighed and nodded. “I know.”

“
Bueno
. Now, you need to take your young man away someplace,
inmediatamente
, and get him sorted out. Above all, he
must
be dissuaded from going to the police and divulging all he knows about us.”

“What? Brennan would never do that.”

“I hope not,” Damian replied, interrupting her once again. “But you should know he's threatened to do just that. To tell the police everything he knows. To expose us all. And that is something we cannot afford to take lightly.”

Conrad had turned back around as they were talking. His gaze hooded, he listened to their exchange. Julie looked at him for confirmation. “You can't be serious?”

“Yes, child. However much you don't wish to believe it; that is the gun that has been held to my head this evening.”

“Well, so what? You know he doesn't mean it. He's just
upset
,” she repeated, for what already felt like the hundredth time tonight.

“Yes. I am aware of that. It's for that very reason he's still alive and waiting for you in the foyer.”

Julie flushed as the threat implicit in Conrad's words sank in. She felt her own temper start to rise. “Maybe we oughta revisit that mafia question. Because I think I know where Brennan could've gotten the idea.”

“
Chica
!” Damian glared.

“I'm sorry,” Julie replied automatically. “But I don't think you understand. He's—”

“Upset?” Damian finished for her. “
S
í. We know.”

“Do you? Really?”

“Do
you
?” Damian crossed the room to where she stood. “He is worried about his child. He would do anything to protect him. Anything. Just as we would do
anything
to protect you.”

“I know. I get it. That's what parents do.” They put themselves in danger, maybe even sacrificed their lives, for their children's sake. Human, vampire, it made no difference. It wasn't just a matter of blood or genetics, it was born in the heart, just like every other kind of love. “Even us nonparents can grasp that idea.”

She hadn't ever really thought about parenthood very much, because she'd always known it wasn't in the cards for her.
Because you've
never
been human.
The thought spiraled out of nowhere and derailed her thought-train. It was the same thought, the same realization she'd had earlier today but, somehow, it hit her now even harder than before. She wasn't human, had never been human. But so what? It didn't mean she couldn't love someone enough to be willing to sacrifice herself for their sake, did it? She wasn't entirely sure what any of it meant, to be honest. But the fact that she'd been lied to her entire life, that was kind of a big deal.

“Are you listening to me?” Damian snapped.

Julie shook her head. “No, actually, I'm not. Sorry. What did you say?”

Damian heaved a theatrical sigh. “I said, you will need to make very sure that Brennan understands how important it is that he not go to the police. He cannot tell them what he knows.”

“You mean about vampires?” Julie asked, for clarification's sake.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Yes, about vampires! At best, it will distract them. It will hamper their investigation and impede their efforts to find his son, which I'm sure he doesn't want.”

“You mean
at worst
,” Julie corrected. There was nothing “best” about not finding Parker alive and well as quickly as possible!

Damian shot a glance in Conrad's direction. “I do not seem to be getting through to her. Would you like to try? Perhaps you'll have better luck.”

Conrad shook his head. “No, go on. I doubt I could do any better.”