“I repeat, so what?”
Carolyn wouldn’t meet her eyes. Yet another bad sign. “So you can imagine what kind of trouble a vampire could get himself into in a strange city. He won’t have a house to spend the day in, and hotels are dangerous places.”
“Let me get this straight—the guy’s going down to Baltimore to try to kill a vampire who’s stronger than he is, and you’re worried about him staying in a hotel?”
Carolyn’s lips twitched into a smile that swiftly faded. “I think he’s going to get himself killed. Eli thinks it’s some kind of trap and I tend to agree.” She met Hannah’s gaze. “We can’t afford to lose him, Hannah. Next to Eli, he’s the oldest, most powerful Guardian.”
“Except for that Drake guy, right? The serial Killer with a heart of gold?”
Carolyn acknowledged that with a slight nod. “Drake’s great, but …” She shrugged. “The Guardians work with him because Eli says they have to. They’ll never fully accept him. We need Jules.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Okay. Let’s say you’re right. Why are you telling me?” But she already had a damn good idea, and Carolyn’s sheepish grin confirmed it. “So, you’d like me to dump all the cases I’m working on right now and follow Jules to Baltimore. And do what, exactly?”
“Keep him safe during the day when he’s completely helpless. And if you could talk sense into him, that would be great.” Carolyn grinned. “Though somehow, I don’t think that’s happening.
“I’ll pay your retainer, of course. I’d go myself, but I don’t think Gray would quite understand. And I think Eli might understand even less.”
Hannah had never met the founder of the Guardians, and she profoundly hoped to keep it that way. He sounded like a real weirdo. The guy was some kind of über-vamp, but he refused to leave his house even when people were getting killed right and left and he might have been able to stop it. She was less than impressed with him, no matter how much Carolyn and Gray seemed to revere him.
“He’s not the kind of guy I want to piss off,” Carolyn concluded. “No other Guardian would dare go with Jules now, but going down there alone is incredibly foolish.”
“So why don’t you just tell Yoda what you think is up? He can lock Jules in his room or something.”
But Carolyn shook her head, not even cracking a smile at the Yoda reference. “I’d feel like the worst kind of tattletale doing that.”
“And telling me doesn’t count as tattling.”
“Right. It’s up to you, Hannah. I know you don’t want anything to do with the Guardians, and I know you didn’t like Jules much. I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to do this.” Her features turned stern. “And I will hold it against you if you decide to go down there and give Jules more than just a little daytime logistical support.”
With a sigh, Hannah leaned back into the cushions of the couch, sipping at her coffee. Why should she stick her neck out for Jules? She barely knew the guy, and like Carolyn said, she wasn’t exactly fond of him. She had a full case load at the moment, though admittedly nothing that couldn’t wait.
It was Carolyn who got her jollies fighting the good fight, making the world safe for truth, justice, and the American way, or whatever. Hannah was happy in her own little corner of the world, hunting down deadbeat dads and photographing cheating husbands.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
Carolyn smiled at her. “That’s all I could ask for.”
But Hannah had a pretty good idea Carolyn was hoping for more. Worse, she had a pretty good idea she was going to get it.
3
DRAKE WASN’T SURPRISED WHEN Eli asked him to stay after the meeting adjourned. When Jules had failed to put in an appearance, he’d known there would be trouble. Eli had waited until all reasonable hope that Jules would show up was gone, then started the meeting without comment. No doubt everyone in the room had reached the same conclusion—the damn fool was on his way to Baltimore to get himself killed.
When the last of the Guardians left the room, Drake sat on the couch facing Eli, waiting for the Founder to speak. But Eli just looked at him, an assessing gaze that made Drake want to crawl under the sofa and hide. He fought his instinctive reaction and scowled.
“Stop looking at me like that!” he said.
Eli blinked, and the penetrating stare turned into a slight smile. “Like what?”
Like you’re trying to peel the flesh away and get a peek at my soul, he thought, but refrained from saying. “You know damn well what I mean. If you want to know something, just come straight out and ask me.” Unlike the true Guardians, Drake refused to let Eli intimidate him. He’d known Eli too long, and understood him far better than anyone else. Not that that was saying much.
“I need you to go to Baltimore,” Eli said.
Drake nodded. “Yeah, I kind of figured that’s what you had in mind.”
“You have to bring Jules back.”
Drake met the Founder’s steady gaze. “Why?”
“He has no idea what he’s walking into.”
It was Drake’s turn for the long, hard stare, but Eli seemed disinclined to volunteer any more information. “And you do?”
Eli’s chin tilted down in the slightest of nods. “The task he’s set himself is beyond him.”
Drake mulled that over. When he wanted to, Eli could wipe even the faintest trace of emotion—or humanity—from his expression. He was doing it now, his eyes strangely blank, all the muscles of his face immobilized. Even Drake found that look unnerving, and despite his assertion that he wasn’t intimidated by Eli, it was hard to push words out of his throat. He forced himself to speak anyway.
“What’s going on, Eli? You have to give me a little more to go on.”
“It’s very simple. I want you to bring Jules back. As soon as possible.”
Eli made a habit of being close-mouthed, but this was an extreme even for him. “So it’s okay for me to have no idea what I’m walking into, but it’s not okay for Jules? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Eli visibly debated with himself before speaking again. “My intention—and my hope—is that you bring him back before any trouble starts.”
In other words, Eli wasn’t going to give Drake even a hint of what was happening in Baltimore and why he was so eager to save Jules from his own idiocy. “Not enough info, Eli.” Drake was in a unique position amongst the Guardians in that they needed him more than he needed them. Considerably more. Which gave him a strong enough bargaining position to say no when he wanted to.
The temperature in the room dropped, and Eli’s face no longer wore that disturbingly impassive expression. “Once upon a time, people respected me enough to take things on faith.”
It was true that before last year’s troubles, the Guardians—and even Drake himself—had followed Eli’s orders with barely a question. But things had changed. Eli no longer seemed infallible, and that necessarily weakened his authority.
Drake chose his words carefully. “I respect you a great deal, or I wouldn’t be here. I know you have secrets.” He allowed himself a faint smile. “I might even know what some of them are, and I’m not about to share them with anyone. But you’re asking me to do something that my every instinct tells me is dangerous, and I’m sorry, Eli, but I’m not walking blindly into it.”
With an irritable grunt, Eli rose from his chair and turned to face the fire. For long minutes, he stood silently watching the flames while Drake waited for him to speak. No doubt the Founder was trying to decide how much to tell. Drake wished Eli would trust him enough to tell him the whole truth, rather than calculating what was the least amount of information he could reveal while still getting his way.
Finally, Eli turned to face him once more, shaking his head. “I can’t afford to have Jules kill Ian Squires.” He returned to his seat, his expression grim. “He’s more likely to get himself killed than actually succeed in his quest, but I can’t take any chances.”
Drake cocke
d his head. “And why, pray tell, do you feel a need to protect Squires?”
“I’m not protecting him, per se.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “You know more about vampire societies outside Philadelphia than any of the Guardians. You know how … territorial … master vampires can be.”
It was true that before he’d encountered Eli, Drake had had dealings with the outside world that the Guardians knew nothing about. In every major city he knew, there were one or more vampire “families”—a master vampire and his or her fledglings. In some cities, these families acted remarkably like street gangs, claiming territory and fighting amongst themselves to expand their boundaries. It went without saying that Jules, as a foreign vampire, would not be welcomed with open arms in the city of Baltimore.
“Yes, I know,” Drake agreed, his mind still trying to puzzle out what Eli was getting at. “Jules will step on toes the moment he sets foot in Baltimore. What of it? And why does it matter if he kills Squires?”
Eli squirmed and looked remarkably uncomfortable. “I have an agreement with the Master of Baltimore,” he admitted. “A non-interference agreement. If Jules kills one of her fledglings, that will most definitely break our agreement.”
Drake sagged in his chair, more shocked by Eli’s confession than he’d like to admit. He’d always thought he himself was the only Killer Eli would tolerate, and that he was tolerated because of his strong moral code. But a master vampire wouldn’t have the same kind of scruples. He’d thought Eli’s commitment to destroying Killers was unshakable. Of course, Eli had refrained from killing Drake, so that should have been his first clue that the Founder was more flexible than one might originally have thought.
“I’ve disillusioned you,” Eli said, with a sad little smile. “For that I’m deeply sorry.”
Drake waved the apology off. “No need. I understand that the world isn’t painted in black and white.”
“I’ve had to make certain concessions to ensure the survival of the Guardians. I don’t like it, but there you have it.”
“So you have agreements with other masters as well. That’s why you never send the Guardians out of the area.”
But to Drake’s surprise, Eli shook his head. “I don’t send them out of the area because they’re not strong enough to overcome a master with a gang of fledglings. My only special agreement is with the Master of Baltimore, with whom I was … acquainted long ago.”
Drake’s curiosity was most definitely piqued, but Eli continued before Drake could ask any questions.
“Camille could destroy the Guardians if she wanted too. She’s quite old, and quite powerful, and she knows—” Eli cut himself off with a frown. “She knows how to exploit our vulnerabilities.”
But that hadn’t been what he’d originally meant to say. A suspicion crept into Drake’s mind and took root. All the years he’d known Eli, Drake had managed to keep his suspicions to himself. No doubt he should do the same now, but his tongue seemed to have a different idea.
“She knows you’re a Killer,” he said, and saw Eli tense.
Personally, Drake was amazed the thought never seemed to occur to the rest of the Guardians. How could someone who didn’t feed on the kill possibly have the kind of massive power that Eli had more than once demonstrated? But the Guardians didn’t want to know the truth about their Founder, and so they allowed themselves to believe he was some kind of mysterious anomaly, an immensely powerful Guardian who’d never killed a mortal soul.
Now that he’d opened his mouth, Drake figured he might as well keep talking, despite the noticeable chill in the air. “I would guess that you’re old enough to venture out and about in broad daylight, so you can kill when your Guardians don’t know about it. And you’ve built this fable that you never leave the grounds of your house to provide yourself a ready alibi.
“I’m not one to throw stones, Eli. I’m certainly not going to tell anyone, if that’s why you’re glaring at me like that.”
A long, tense silence followed. The air had grown positively arctic, and Drake wondered if he’d overstepped his bounds. Perhaps now that Eli realized the extent of Drake’s knowledge, he’d decide Drake had to go. But even in the face of Eli’s anger, Drake didn’t quite feel afraid of him. Wary, yes, but not afraid.
With another heavy sigh, Eli swallowed the bitter pill. “My authority has been weakened enough already. If the Guardians were to suspect me of any hypocrisy …”
Drake knew exactly where Eli was coming from. In the outside world, master vampires held their “families” together via the bond between master and fledgling. Eli had no such bond with his Guardians. As he’d said in the past, he led only as long as the Guardians let him lead. If the Guardians were to learn the distasteful truth, he might not be able to hold them together anymore.
Eli was right. Jules couldn’t be allowed to kill Squires, not when the Master of Baltimore held such a terrible threat over Eli’s head. The Guardians’ mission was too important, and they’d never survive without Eli.
“I’ll go to Baltimore,” Drake said, “and I’ll do my best to bring Jules back.”
“And if you can’t persuade him to come back?” Eli’s face had gone impassive again, his thoughts and emotions shuttered tightly.
“I won’t kill him, Eli. I have to draw the line somewhere.” Jules was an arrogant, annoying prick, but at heart he was relatively decent. Not someone Drake’s conscience could handle killing.
Eli nodded. “All right, then. You’d better be at your most persuasive. And keep in mind what’s at stake.”
Drake knew Eli hoped that if push came to shove, Drake would make the “right” decision and kill Jules if he refused to abandon his vendetta. But that just wasn’t going to happen. He’d find some way to get Jules out of Baltimore, even if he had to tie him up and stash him in the trunk of a car to drag him back to Eli. It would be up to Eli to decide what to do with him then.
IT HAD BEEN ONE hell of a hectic day. After contacting all her clients to let them know she’d been called out of town for an emergency, Hannah’d gotten right to work figuring out where Jules was staying in Baltimore. A surprisingly easy task, actually. He wasn’t making any particular attempt to be sneaky. She’d guessed—correctly—that someone as fastidious as he would stay at a high-class hotel.
She’d called two hotels and asked to be connected to Jules Gerard with no success. Then she’d called the Harbor Court hotel. After the operator’s “one moment, I’ll connect you,” Hannah had hastily hung up.
As she packed her bags, she thought long and hard about whether to take her gun with her. After the Banger incident, when her lucky shot with Carolyn’s borrowed gun had saved the day, she’d reluctantly decided it was time to get a gun of her own and learn to shoot it. But she hated the damn thing. When she was ten, she’d gotten hold of her father’s gun and almost shot her brother’s foot off while playing with it to prove she wasn’t a sissy. She still occasionally had nightmares, hearing her brother scream, seeing the blood oozing from the wound. He bore the scar to this day, but now the damn fool thought it was a funny story. Ever since that day, she’d decided guns and her were a bad combination. But now that she knew about vampires, she found she felt safer armed and dangerous.
Of course, she had no permit to carry a concealed weapon in Baltimore. She could get into deep shit if she was caught with it. But how could she possibly go down there with no weapon?
Crossing her fingers, she tossed the gun and a box of bullets into her suitcase.
Her lemon of a car was in the shop for the umpteenth time, so she decided to rent a nice, shiny Taurus for the trip. She loaded up with maps at the rental place, but she was a tad … directionally challenged. Three hours and too many wrong turns to count later, she gratefully pulled up to the front doors of the hotel. The gratefulness turned to unease when she got a good look at the place. She’d known from her research that it was a nice hotel, but she hadn’t realized how nice. She made a good living, but this place was definitely no
t in her price range. She almost lost her lunch when she found out parking would cost her twenty-one dollars a day. Maybe she should have taken the train after all.
Her discomfort rose another notch when she stepped into the lobby. “Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath. The place was a freakin’ palace. Her shoes made soft clinking noises as she crossed the floor of creamy ivory tile. The gorgeous flower arrangement that dominated the room was bigger than she was, and overflowed with sunflowers and lilies and exotic greens. A graceful curving staircase, complete with red-patterned carpet, gave the lobby a Gone with the Wind feel. And there was a crystal chandelier. In the lobby. Motel 6 this was not. Why couldn’t Jules have been a cheapskate?
Trying not to look awed at her surroundings, she made her way to the reception desk. She could just use a house phone and ask to be connected to Jules’s room, but thinking about what this trip was going to cost her made her grumpy enough to want to give him a hard time. So instead of calling his room, she went to the front desk and asked them to leave a message, saying only that an “old friend” would meet him in the bar. No doubt Jules would think the message was from Squires.
As she should have expected, the bar was as classy as the rest of the hotel. It was called the Explorer’s Lounge, and was decorated in an elegant safari motif, with murals on the walls and antiques everywhere. She felt like some kind of barbarian ordering a beer—this was more of a cognac kind of joint. But a Corona was about as high falutin’ a drink as she could handle, so she ordered one and tried to look inconspicuous as she waited for Jules to make an appearance.
Minutes ticked slowly by as she nursed her beer. She smiled faintly to herself, trying to imagine what kind of face Jules was going to make when he saw her. And how grateful he was going to be to have her help. Not!
Some of her self-assurance fled when she glanced at her watch and noticed it was six-thirty already. She’d thought for sure he’d be down by now. Certainly he was awake. Maybe he hadn’t noticed the message light on his phone? She debated calling, but decided against it, at least for now. She ordered another beer and settled in to wait some more.