The Scarlet Deep

  Murphy broke in before Terry erupted. “Clearly, someone who wanted to kill Rens and get rid of Cormac has noted Leonor’s antagonistic behavior and decided to take advantage.”

  “So you do think Rens was killed by someone at the summit?” Leonor asked.

  “Yes.”

  Terry growled, “Who?”

  “Who benefits from my mistress’s trouble?” Gasper asked. “Terry is the most obvious, of course.”

  “Why?” Terry asked.

  “The wine,” Leonor said. “I’m expanding my operation into South America.” She smiled at Terry. “Surprise.”

  Terry waved his hand and went to sit across from Gasper. “Gemma told me you would make that jump months ago. I know about the land in Chile.”

  Leonor narrowed her eyes but offered nothing else.

  Murphy followed Terry’s example, leaving Leonor standing. After a few moments of the three men staring up at her, she relented and perched on a barstool.

  “Also, I… acquired a new winemaker last year.”

  Terry laughed and asked, “Did Jean lose another one?”

  “He treats his people like horse dung and expects them to be grateful. It was easy to tempt the young human away. This winemaker studied under your man, Terry. The others aren’t nearly as good.”

  “They know how to make it,” Gasper said, “but Jean will be making the vampire version of box wine. At least for a long time. He won’t be able to compete.”

  Murphy listened silently, taking everything in.

  “Ramsay,” he said when Leonor and Gasper had finished. “I know we weren’t scheduled to have a meeting tonight, but don’t you think we should call one?”

  “Why?”

  “I want to see all of us in one room,” Murphy said. “I can’t decide who to believe.” His eyes went to Leonor. “Are you going to share information now that Rens is conveniently gone?”

  More Spanish curses assaulted him, and Gasper rose to his feet.

  “Relax,” Murphy said. “I told you I didn’t think you killed anyone. This time.” He rose to his feet and buttoned his jacket. “Get everyone in the same room. Let’s see what shakes out when we all have to look at each other. I’m going to relieve Gemma and Anne. Hopefully none of your goons have killed each other yet. If they damage my woman, I’ll be annoyed.”

  MOSTLY what happened when everyone was in the same room was a whole lot of glaring.

  Murphy had ordered one of his people to find a giant map. He and Anne spread it out in the conference room they’d been meeting in and weighted down the corners with whatever they could find. Murphy walked around the room, tossing colored markers to each of the vampire leaders in turn.

  “Now,” he said, smoothing his tie as they watched him. “The humans are gone. We’ve all given up our entourages—thank you, Gemma—so what we’re going to do now is cut through the massive piles of rubbish that everyone has been peddling while we’ve been here.”

  “Who gave you permission to speak, Murphy?” Jetta asked. “This is Terry’s summit.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Terry said, “But I’m fucking pissed off at all of you, so I decided I’d let him talk.”

  “And with that gracious introduction,” Murphy continued, “I’ll proceed. I’ve given you all colored markers. We’re going to put our notes on this map so we can all see what we’re dealing with. No double-talk. No posturing. People are dead and injured tonight, and someone in this room is responsible for it.” Murphy purposefully didn’t watch their reactions. He’d asked Anne to do that before the meeting. “I’ll start.”

  He put a dot representing every ship he knew that had landed in Dublin with questionable cargo or crew, and a corresponding dot at the cargo’s point of origin, connecting the two. After he was finished, Anne did the same thing while he watched the participants.

  Jetta looked annoyed. She clearly had something to say but was biting her tongue while glaring at Leonor.

  Jean looked amused. He watched everyone’s reactions as more information went onto the schoolroom map, even catching Murphy’s eye and winking as Terry started to add his notes.

  Leonor sat stiffly, aware that many suspected her of Rens’s murder.

  Cormac glared at Leonor. But then, he glared at everyone. Novia wasn’t with him, and he was the only one Terry had allowed to keep a security guard in the room. But then, he was the only one currently missing half an arm.

  Anne passed him a note. When will the Dutch be here?

  Murphy shrugged. “We’re letting Carwyn deal with them,” he murmured. “That’s what he and Brigid are doing tonight with Roger.”

  “That’s good. He’s probably the least likely to be killed.”

  “He does have his uses.”

  “Be nice.”

  “I can be very, very nice.” He took her hand under the table. “I was hoping to have time with you tonight.”

  “I was too.” She didn’t look at him, but he could see the smile touch her lips. “It’s all right, Patrick. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  As more and more information went on the map, everyone began to see the pattern that Murphy had only suspected before.

  Almost every ship that had carried Elixir had originated in the Black Sea. Most of the crews were either Eastern European or Turkish. And the vast majority of the Elixir and human carriers had ended up in the North Sea or the Baltic regions.

  Cormac O’Brien was the last to stand and walk toward the map.

  “I don’t have much to add here,” he said. “North America isn’t even on here. But the points of origin I can…” He cocked his head and marked down a few dates before he paused. He put a finger on the Black Sea and didn’t move.

  “Cormac?” Anne asked.

  “Fucking hell,” he murmured. “That’s why.”

  Murphy leaned forward. “O’Brien, if you’ve got—”

  “Fucking hell.” The American spun and glared at Jetta, then at Leonor and Jean. “One of you killed the Dutchman. Which one did she get to? What did she offer?”

  Anne stood. “Cormac, who are you talking—”

  “That Albanian bitch.” His pointing finger swung around the room. “That Albanian bitch got to one of you. I wondered what the hell she had planned, but I never thought one of you would cave.” He threw down his marker. “I’m gone. Novia and I are gone. Call me when she’s dead.”

  Albanian? Murphy stopped him before he stormed out. “Who the hell are you talking about?”

  “Zara,” he spit out, scribbling something in a small notebook that he put in his pocket. “That’s why someone tried to kill my daughter. Well, fuck you all. I’m not staying here to get caught in her web.”

  De spinnekop.

  Rens had called Livia “the spider.”

  “O’Brien,” Terry yelled, “tell me what’s going on.”

  Cormac looked over Murphy’s shoulder at the rest of the room. “Forget it.”

  If he hadn’t been such an accomplished pickpocket in life, he would have missed the pass from the American. He let Cormac go and turned back to the room.

  “Fuck off then,” Terry said, throwing a disgusted look at Cormac’s back. “Bloody American.”

  “It appears,” Murphy said, “we might be missing an Albanian connection.”

  “Albania?” Jetta said. “None of the ships have come from Albania.”

  “What is he talking about?” Jean asked. “Is the American unbalanced?”

  “I don’t know any Albanians,” Leonor said. “It’s not important. Who is running Albania? Athens, yes?”

  “Saying Athens actually runs anything is being generous,” Jetta said.

  While the rest of them started shouting over each other, trying to figure out who Cormac was talking about, Murphy slipped the piece of paper from his suit pocket.

  King’s Cross Station, 4am.

  He slipped the paper back in his pocket and absently noted that Anne had fall
en silent at his side.

  MURPHY wandered around King’s Cross for ten minutes before he managed to find Cormac O’Brien, who was smoking a pipe and leaning against one of the arches. The station wasn’t open, but there were still a few humans around. Murphy drew the fog closer, concealing them from curious eyes.

  “King’s Cross?” he asked.

  Cormac frowned. “That is a really cool trick with the fog. And my girl insisted we stay here. Platform 9 3/4 and all that. She made her bodyguard take pictures.”

  “Platform what?”

  Cormac lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you read?”

  “Not as much as I’d like.” Murphy took out a thin cigar and lit it. “Tell me about this Zara.”

  “Sorry about the theatrics earlier. Not that I wasn’t genuinely pissed, but I don’t trust anyone in there.”

  “But you’re meeting with me?”

  Cormac blew out a stream of smoke. “I don’t think she has anything you’d be interested in buying.”

  “Who is Zara?”

  “A crazy Albanian water-vampire bitch.”

  “I gathered as much,” Murphy said, trying not to snap at the man. “I’ve never heard of her.”

  “She likes to keep it that way.”

  “Why do you think she has anything to do with Elixir?”

  “Because of the ports. Samsun. Poti. Varda. Athens doesn’t acknowledge it, but Zara’s been quietly running Istanbul for the past two years. That means nearly every ship that’s been carrying Elixir is leaving one of her ports and passing through the Bosphorus.”

  Murphy’s instincts started humming. “Athens has controlled the Bosphorus for a thousand years.”

  “More specifically, Laskaris does.”

  There was the Greek connection. Athens might not be on the Black Sea, but they controlled it. Though Istanbul had changed hands in the human realm, in the vampire world, it had remained under Greek control.

  “And Laskaris,” Cormac said, naming one of the oldest on the Athenian council, “is Zara’s current plaything. She hooked up with him after she broke with Oleg. She’d been overseeing the ports on his side until then.”

  “The Russian? Were they lovers? I thought only his children ran his ports. You said she was a water vampire.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what they were,” Cormac said. “She hates him, that’s for sure.”

  More of those disparate puzzle pieces fell into place. “So she broke with Oleg and took up with Laskaris?”

  “Trust me, there’s no romance involved. Istanbul belongs to Laskaris. He’s the most active member of the council, but that’s not really saying much. He’s lazy as hell. Zara saw an opportunity to stick it to Oleg when she hooked up with him. She runs the strait for him and strokes his ego, and he lets her do what she wants while remaining under the radar. Rumor is Istanbul has been raising the tariffs through the Bosphorus over the past year or so. If they’re going up, it’s because of Zara.”

  Because no one shipped anything—including oil—from the Black Sea without passing through the narrow seventeen-mile strait that connected the Black Sea to the rest of the world. And any freighter owned by an immortal paid a heavy tax.

  It was one of the sole means of support the Greeks had managed to retain control over. If their court weren’t so bloated, it would have been enough. Sadly, the Athenians were more interested in luxury than economy.

  Cormac continued, his empty sleeve waving as if he’d forgotten half his left arm was gone. “Oleg has been working on his Baltic ports for a few years now, but he still needs the Black Sea. Not enough of his oil pipelines going to the Baltic yet.”

  “Most of the Elixir has been moving toward the North Sea and up to the Baltic.”

  “I’d be willing to bet if you managed to nail down the vampires running those territories—which, let’s be honest, most of them are puppets for Oleg anyway—you’d see even higher numbers of Elixir infection than what you’ve seen in the Netherlands and Scandinavia.”

  “She’s choking Oleg. Crippling the Baltic territories and forcing him to use the Black Sea,” Murphy said.

  “That’s what I think.”

  “And she’s using the Greeks to do it. Are they the ones producing Elixir, then?”

  Cormac took another drag on his pipe before he spoke. “Probably. They’ve been trying to remain relevant for years now. They’re greedy. And they don’t like Russians. Laskaris, especially, would be happy to fuck with Oleg. And if Athens makes money in the process? All the better. They’re hemorrhaging Euros right now.”

  “But what are they thinking?” Murphy said. “This Zara is poisoning the blood supply all over the world. She’s destabilizing Oleg. I’ve never even heard of this woman. Does she think she’s going to be able to control Oleg’s territories? That’s madness.”

  “I told you she’s nuts,” Cormac said. “This is Zara. She hasn’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Do you think she’s in London and we missed her?”

  Cormac shook his head. “She likes to fuck with people from a distance. But I bet my other arm she’s got someone in that meeting on her payroll. She’s found out what they want and she’s using them to be her eyes and ears. My guess is Jetta, because she hates the Russians so much, but I could be wrong. Rens probably had information on her, which is why he’s dust. And when she found out I was here, she sent someone after my daughter.”

  The immortal’s devotion to the girl almost made Murphy like him.

  Almost.

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Because Zara approached me and offered to kill all my brothers if I’d let her ship into New Jersey no questions asked.”

  Even Murphy knew that was a mistake. The O’Briens fought like cats and dogs amongst themselves, but only amongst themselves. They were like his mother’s people. They could fight with each other and still be fiercely loyal against outsiders.

  “You said no.”

  He shook his head. “Not even the Albanian bosses in my city want to deal with Zara. And they’re considered so crazy the Russians want nothing to do with them.”

  “Is your entire city made up of criminals, O’Brien?”

  The other vampire grinned. “It keeps things interesting.”

  “Clearly. So Zara made you curious after she approached you.”

  “Yep. I did some digging with the aforementioned criminal elements in my city. She doesn’t like attention, but she’s got a reputation. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her.”

  “Don’t think we keep similar company, O’Brien, because we don’t.”

  “Please.” He spit a fleck of tobacco from his lip. “I know you like to come across as a prissy bastard, but you’re as much of a criminal as me, Murphy. You just have a prettier accent.”

  “I won’t disagree with you.”

  “Fuck you,” Cormac growled. “I better leave before I actually start liking your pansy ass. Take it easy, Irish. And send a card when the crazy bitch is dead.”

  Murphy leaned against a pillar and drew the fog closer as he watched Cormac walk into the night.

  It was the Greeks. He’d been right all along, but to truly understand what was going on, he needed to know about the Russian. Zara hated Oleg so much that she’d poison their world to hurt him. That kind of hate was more than a lovers’ quarrel, and he bet Anne knew the details.

  She likes to fuck with people from a distance.

  If O’Brien was right, then Murphy couldn’t do much about Zara. At least not yet. But there was someone he could hurt. Whoever had killed Rens and attacked Cormac was in the city. One of the vampires at Terry’s summit had double-crossed them.

  And that individual was fair game.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ANNE WAITED FOR MURPHY in their room, but he arrived barely in time to escape the sun before he collapsed into bed. She’d have to wait until the next night before she found out what Cormac had told him.

  Hopefully the American had somehow c
ome across the knowledge that Anne hadn’t been able to reveal. She knew that her knowledge of Oleg and Zara’s relationship could help sort through the mystery and possibly help catch whoever killed Rens, but she still hadn’t heard from her patient.

  She couldn’t reveal Oleg’s history without his permission. It could be the death of her.

  There was a tap on her door shortly after dawn.

  “Yes?” she asked at the door.

  Judith’s voice came from the other side. “Dr. O’Dea, I have a message here from your sire. Shall I slip it under the door?”

  “Yes, thank you, Judith.”

  A small slip of paper was pushed through, and Anne picked it up as the human’s footsteps retreated. She could hear the guards pacing outside, so she took the note and went back to the bed to open it. Her father had written in his old language.

  Annie—

  An old friend wants to see you. Meet me at the pub tomorrow at ten.

  —T

  An old friend? Of hers? Of her father’s? Anne had long ago ceased to expect any kind of clarity from him unless he was sitting in front of her. Still, if her father was hosting this old friend, Anne knew she’d be safe. The question was, would Murphy insist on going along?

  With the last of his consciousness, the vampire in question pulled her against his body and wrapped both arms around her, burrowing into her hair and pushing one of his legs between her own, effectively trapping her on the bed.

  Would he insist on going? Anne was guessing yes.

  SHE woke gradually, coming to awareness with the comfort of Murphy wrapped around her. She could feel the easy ebb and flow of their amnis, like soft breaths exchanged between lovers. Though he hadn’t yet bitten her, his blood had flooded Anne’s system, and their bond had snapped into place as if the hundred years that had parted them had been no more than the blink of an eye.

  We’re meant, Anne. You know we are. We were so good together. We were young and stupid. Or at least I was. I’m not anymore.

  His actions the night before had proven his words true. While others had railed and ranted, Murphy had remained calm. In the face of a situation that would have spurred panic and violence in him when he was young, he’d proposed conversation and clarity.