Mausoleum was another word for it.
“The Brothers take security very seriously.” Jane pulled the car up in front of a set of stairs that was worthy of a cathedral.
“Either that,” he muttered, “or someone’s in-laws have a quarry.”
They got out together, and before he snagged his bags, he surveyed the landscape. The retaining wall that led off in both directions rose to a good twenty feet off the ground, and there were cameras all over its exterior, as well as twists of barbwire across the top. The mansion itself was enormous, sprawling in all directions, looking to be four stories high. And talk about a fortress: All the windows were covered with sheets of metal, and those double doors? Looked like you’d need a tank to get through them.
There were a number of cars in the courtyard, some of which, under other circumstances, he’d have had a serious jones for, and also another, far smaller house made from the same stone as the castle. The fountain in the center was dry, but he could imagine the peaceful sounds it would make as the water fell.
“This way,” Jane said as she popped the trunk and took out one of his duffels.
“I’ll get that.” He took what she’d grabbed, as well as the other two. “Ladies first.”
She’d called her man on the way in, so Manny had a pretty good idea that Payne’s people weren’t going to kill him outright. But who could tell for sure?
Good thing he didn’t give a shit about himself right now.
At the grand entrance, she rang the bell and a lock switched open. Stepping inside with her, he found himself in a windowless vestibule that made him think of a jail . . . a very classy, expensive jail with handcarved wood panels and the scent of lemon in the air.
No way they were coming out of this space unless someone let them.
Jane spoke into a camera. “It’s us. We’re—”
The second set of doors was cracked immediately, and Manny had to blink a couple of times as the way in was opened. The brilliant, colorful foyer on the far side was nothing he’d expected: Majestic and with all the hues of the rainbow, it was everything the fortified exterior was not. And dear Lord, it seemed like every conceivable type of decorative marble and stone had been used . . . and holy shit from all the crystal and the gold leafing.
Then he stepped inside and saw the frescoed ceiling three stories up . . . and a staircase that made the one from
Just as the door shut behind him, Payne’s brother came out of what looked like a poolroom, with Red Sox by his side. As the vampire strode forward, he was all business as he put a hand-rolled between his fangs and jacked up his black leathers.
Stopping in front of Manny, the two of them locked eyes . . . until you had to wonder if it was all going to be over before it started—with Manny being made a meal of.
Except then the vampire held out his palm.
Of course—the cell phone.
Manny dropped his bags and took the BlackBerry out of his coat pocket. “Here—this is—”
The guy accepted what was offered but didn’t look at the thing. He just shifted it over to his free hand and put his palm out again.
The gesture was so very simple; its meaning very, very deep.
Manny grabbed for that palm with his own, and neither of them said anything. No reason to have to because the communication was clear: Respect was paid and accepted on both sides.
When they dropped palms, Manny said, “The phone?”
For the vampire, getting into the thing was the work of a moment.
“Jesus . . . you’re fast,” Manny murmured.
“No. This is the one I gave her. I was calling it every hour on the hour. The GPS is busted—otherwise I would have given you the addy you found it in.”
“Fuck.” Manny rubbed his face. “There was nothing else there. Jane and I combed the alley—and I’ve driven around downtown for hours. What now?”
“We wait. It’s all we can do while the sunlight is out. But the instant we go dark, the Brotherhood is tearing out of here with a vengeance. We’ll find her, don’t you worry—”
“I’m coming too,” he said. “Just so we’re clear.”
As Payne’s twin started shaking his head, Manny cut any protesting, be-reasonable shit off. “Sorry. That might be your sister out there . . . but she’s my woman. And that means I’m going to be a part of this.”
At that, the one with the baseball cap took off his hat and smoothed his hair. “Shit on a shingle—”
Manny froze in place, the rest of what the guy said not registering at all.
That face . . . that fucking face.
That—
Manny had been wrong about where he’d seen the guy.
“What?” the guy said, glancing down at himself.
Manny was vaguely aware of Payne’s brother frowning and Jane looking worried. But his focus was on the other man. He searched those hazel eyes, that mouth, and that chin, trying to find something that didn’t fit, something out of place . . . something that disproved the two-plus-two-is-four he was rocking.
The only thing that was even slightly off was the nose—but that was just because it had been broken at least once.
The truth was in the bones.
And the connection was not the hospital or even St. Patrick’s Cathedral—because come to think of it, he had definitely seen this man, male . . . vampire, whatever . . . at church before.
“What the hell?” Butch muttered, looking at Vishous.
By way of explanation, Manny bent down and rifled through his bags. As he searched for what he hadn’t intentionally brought with him, he knew without a doubt he was going to find it. Fate had lined these dominos up too perfectly for this moment not to happen.
And yup, there it was.
As Manny straightened, his hands were shaking so badly that the picture frame’s bracer flapped against the back of the matting.
Given that his voice was gone, all he could do was turn the glass around and give the three of them a chance to look at the black-and-white photograph.
Which was the spitting image of the male named Butch.
“This is my father,” Manny said roughly.
The guy’s expression went from
He didn’t bother denying anything. He couldn’t.
Payne’s brother exhaled a cloud of wonderful-smelling smoke. “Fucking. A.”
Well, didn’t that just sum it all up nicely.
Manny glanced at Jane and then eyed the man who might well be a half brother. “Do you recognize him?”
When the guy slowly shook his head, Manny looked over at Payne’s twin. “Can humans and vampires . . .”
“Yup.”
As he went back to staring at a face that shouldn’t have been so familiar, he thought, Shit, how did he put this. “So are you . . .”
“A half-breed?” the guy said. “Yeah. My mother was human.”
“Son of a bitch,” Manny breathed.
FIFTY-FOUR
As Butch held the picture of a man who was undeniably identical to himself, he thought, rather bizarrely, about the yellow signs on highways.
