Redemption (The Penton Vampire Legacy) (22 page)

She smiled. “You think it has anything to do with Owen?”

He dug under the bed and fished out a boot. “Don’t think so—Mark said it was a sedan with dark-tinted windows. That’s not Owen’s style, plus he’s more of an attack-from-the-shadows type than a pull-into-your-driveway type.”

Krys leaned against the headboard and pulled the quilt up to cover herself as she watched him leave. The bed already felt cold and empty.

A
idan let his car idle for a few moments at the end of the block with the headlights off, studying the sedan parked in front of his house. After a few seconds, a slender, dark-haired man emerged from the backseat and stood next to the car, lifting his face to the night air and snapping his head around to look at Aidan.

It was Lorenzo Caias, Aidan’s biggest ally on the Vampire Tribunal. His muscles relaxed, and he drove the rest of the way toward his house, parking in the drive.

By the time he got out of his car, Renz had climbed the front steps and waited on the porch. Aidan passed him without speaking and led the way inside, throwing his coat over the back of the armchair and lighting the kindling in the fireplace.

“I’m surprised to see you so far north this time of year, Renz,” he said, poking at the sticks to spread the flames. “You usually stay in Buenos Aires in the winter. You always say your place in New York’s too cold.”

“It is frigid and miserable,” Renz said. “But this is no time to be out of the States, not with Europe in such disarray and vampires flocking here under the delusion that there are more unvaccinated humans to feed from.”

The “vampire pandemic,” as their people only half jokingly called the vaccine crisis, had driven many city dwellers into rural places they never would have gone normally. But the last Aidan had heard, Renz and a couple of fams had moved into an Upper East Side apartment. He’d bet that one of them was driving the car outside.

“Nice to see you,” Renz said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the chair next to Aidan’s. “Before we talk business, can you put us up? Got my fam in the car so I don’t need anything but daysleep space. One room is fine.”

“No problem.” Aidan placed a couple of logs on the fire, and then called Will to get one of the sub-suites ready.

By the time Aidan finished the call, Renz had emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“Made myself at home, obviously.” He laughed, opening the bottle.

“So what’s prompting the personal visit, Renz? Or do I already know?” Aidan filled one of the tumblers and set it on the end table next to his chair. Tribunal members—even old friends—didn’t normally make house calls.

Renz lounged on the sofa, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He ran a hand through spiky black hair sprinkled with a trace of silver at the temples. He was always as tightly wound as a coiled spring, but his nervous energy was more palpable than usual tonight. “You know I’m here about Owen, speaking of riffraff coming over from Europe.”

Aidan rubbed his temples. “I wondered if the Tribunal was aware of his attacks on our humans—he’s killed one so far and injured another. So far, I’ve hedged on fighting Owen too openly because I was afraid the Tribunal might be supporting him. I can’t hold out much longer, though. Matthias Ludlam and his lot—are they openly backing Owen? Who exactly am I fighting here?”

Renz shrugged. “Matthias is too smart to back Owen publicly. But privately? You better believe it. He’s had a Tribunal detective moonlighting for him to track down his son William. Unhappily, that led him right to your door. That’s all we were able to get out of the detective before he was found drained—probably at Matthias’s hand.”

Shit.
Part of Aidan had always known that taking Will in and making him part of Penton’s power structure could attract the wrong kind of attention from Matthias, but it wasn’t Will’s fault—a person can’t choose the family he is born into. “How does Owen fit into this?”

Renz sipped his drink and rattled the ice. “Did you know that the Tribunal Justice Council issued a death warrant for Owen a few months ago for a stunt he pulled in Dublin? Drained several women and left them poorly hidden, causing the human authorities to get involved.”

Sounded like Owen. Arrogant and sadistic. “Obviously, he isn’t dead.”

“The council rescinded the death sentence in November—shortly before Owen surfaced in Atlanta. Matthias is head of the Justice Council. Come to your own conclusions, my friend.”

Damn. Now it made sense. Owen wouldn’t come after him to defend something as tenuous as the vampire way of life. But he
would
do it to save his own hide.

“What about you?” Aidan asked, studying Renz’s face. The man had taken Aidan in when he’d first fled Ireland centuries ago. Renz had given him a home, shown him how to survive in what was just a wild colonial outpost of England. That was long before Renz had risen to Tribunal status and Aidan drifted south and began building his own scathe.

“I think the type of thing you’re doing here is the only hope we have of surviving this crisis without going public and throwing ourselves on the mercy of humans.” Renz took a sip of whiskey and stared at the reflections of light on the amber liquid. “Nobody wants that.”

Of all the crazy ideas. “Is going public really being considered? It would be a bloody disaster.”

Renz nodded. “I agree, which is why I’m here. I want Penton to succeed. I can’t back you openly by sending people to help. I’ll be honest—there are more on the Tribunal against you than for you. Not because of Penton per se, but because you have bonded your entire scathe to yourself and no one is sure how big that scathe is. Anyone outside the Tribunal who has too much power makes them twitch. But given my political straitjacket, tell me what I can do to help.”

Aidan had an easy answer for that one. “Find out who’s supplying Owen with vaccinated human blood, for one thing.”

Renz choked on his drink. “
Mierda
. How do you know?”

Aidan shared Mirren’s adventure with the buckshot. “I don’t know how much of that stuff Owen has, but I doubt he used all of it. It’s a damned effective weapon.”

Renz looked thoughtful. “I heard a rumor that Kincaid had joined you. I don’t have to tell you his presence will enrage those who see you as a threat. His years as the Tribunal’s executioner
left him with quite the reputation. Has the Slayer recovered from his injuries?”

“Don’t let him hear you use that name unless you want to see how recovered he is.” Aidan finished off his whiskey. “I won’t throw Will to his father, and Mirren’s not going anywhere. We’ll fight whomever we have to—but don’t share that with any of your Tribunal cronies.”

Renz nodded. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You have, what, about twenty-five scathe members?”

Aidan hesitated. He wasn’t inclined to trust any outsider these days, even Renz. He didn’t doubt his support, but the man was also a political shark who could flip sides if his survival depended on it. The Penton scathe numbered more than fifty now, but he decided to keep that figure to himself. “Yes, about that. All the humans are fams or mates, except a few bonded extras—mostly relatives.”

“What about kids?”

He shook his head. “None. Anyone who wants kids or gets pregnant moves out. Maybe one day, but it’s doubtful. This is just not the kind of lifestyle kids need to be in—we aren’t exactly set up for education and day care.” Not to mention that children would be the first targets for someone like Owen. Aidan knew that from experience, but he pushed thoughts of his son, Cavan, from his mind. All it did was make him angrier.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Aidan pondered the pros and cons of telling Renz about Krys. He might not trust the man with the whole future of the Penton scathe, but he did value his opinion.

“I have one other thing to tell you,” he said. “We have a new doctor—our original doc was the first one Owen killed. This new one, a woman, was able to get the vaccine-laced pellets out
of Mirren just before dawn and helped us do a drain-and-fill on him. Otherwise he’d have been out of commission for weeks.”

Renz poured more whiskey. “I can’t believe you found another one so fast. Is she human or vampire?”

Aidan got up and stood with his back to Renz, facing the fire. “Unvaccinated human. We didn’t just stumble across her. We researched till we found her, and when my business manager was attacked by Owen and needed treatment, I kept her here against her will.” The words sounded as callous as the act itself, and he found it hard to reconcile them with his feelings for the woman he’d just held in his arms.

He remained still, watching the fire and waiting for Renz’s reaction. If the man told him to get rid of Krys to keep from attracting Tribunal attention, he’d consider taking her back to Atlanta and letting her go—if he could squelch that selfish part of himself that wanted her with him. What he’d never do was kill her, even if Renz ordered it.

The older man surprised him.

“Given what’s happening, it was a smart move. Penton needs to survive this, and if it means taking one person’s freedom to save the whole, then it’s worth it. How’s she handling it? How much does she know?”

“Everything. Even handled the drain-and-fill on Mirren without a meltdown. She’s bloody amazing.”

When Renz didn’t respond, Aidan looked back at him. His friend was eyeing him with amusement.

“What?”

Renz opened his mouth and then closed it. “Nothing.” He finished his drink. “You’re handling this right. Don’t let Owen pull you into an all-out war that will draw human attention to Penton or give the hotheads on the Tribunal a reason to target
you. Right now it’s just Matthias trying to stir things up and get his hands on William. Play it low-key, and take Owen out when you can. Chances are, his people will scatter once he’s gone—I doubt he has many. The important thing is to have this town of yours survive.”

Aidan cracked his neck. He’d been almost relaxed around Krys and now that seemed like a week ago instead of an hour. “You think what we’re doing here is that important?”

He’d like to have said that he had come up with the idea of Penton as a template for vampire society in a post-pandemic world. Really, though, he’d just wanted a place where he and others like him could hold on to the shreds of their humanity and live in peace. No prey. No politics.

Renz got up and set his glass on the coffee table. “Yes, I do think it’s important. Many of our people in Europe and North America are starving. Hunger is causing them to be indiscreet, and a black market for unvaccinated humans is springing up. It’s only a matter of time till someone gets caught and we’re forced to either go public or exile everyone to some Third World jungle to live on animals. It’s a damned nightmare.”

He picked up their coats. “We have a few hours till sunrise. Show me your town, and introduce me to the Slayer.”

If anyone ever made a vampire sitcom, the meeting between Renz and Mirren would be an episode all by itself. Aidan chuckled as he walked home through the sub-suite tunnel at about three a.m. He’d dropped Renz and his fam off at one of the clinic sub-suites, down the hall from Krys.

He’d warned Mirren that they were coming, but it hadn’t helped. The big guy sat through the twenty-minute ordeal wearing his stone-gargoyle face, arms crossed over his chest, answering Renz’s questions with a full repertoire of grunts and vague, monosyllabic replies. Thank God Renz had a good sense of humor.

“You don’t like to talk about your past, do you, Mr. Kincaid?” he’d finally asked.

Mirren fixed him with a look that would freeze icebergs. “You think?”

It had been his longest sentence of the night.

Aidan emerged from the tunnel into his greenhouse and stopped to pick one of the hibiscus blooms. They’d forever remind him of Krys.

She’d brought two emotions to life in him: wonderment and loneliness. The first was a new one for him; the second hadn’t tormented him in so long that it had taken him a while to recognize the empty, longing feeling.

Krys was at the crux of everything. When he was with her, he couldn’t imagine letting her go, even if he had to keep her locked up for the rest of her life. Screw the guilt, as long as he got to be with her, talk to her—hell, even listen to her advice, for God’s sake.