'I was just following orders.' It was Derek—whining. 'It's not my fault somebody decided to play superhero.'
'Who was it?'
'A girl with red hair and a man with a foreign accent. He had a cane. Said his name was Jeremy. I don't remember anything more about her.'
'Well between them they managed to smoke Jonathon and both your victims.'
Jonathon must've been the doorman. It seemed strange to think of Boris and Svetlana as Steele's victims, but that had been her take on the situation last night as well. The final experiment, my mind whispered, transferring the mutated virus from human to vampire. What did that do to the vamp? What did it do to the virus?
'The Tor-al-Degan's ritual is tomorrow. The senator's even coming,' chided the Marlboro Man.
'How should I know that?' asked Derek. 'I just do what he tells me, and he never tells me more.'
'Well here's what he's telling you now,' said the other guard, his voice hard and sharp as an axe blade.
A loud, scraping sound drowned out part of Axe's message. Derek must've scratched his neck, or else gulped loudly, because all I heard was, '—Undead tonight, and you're snagging him two new vampires.'
'Tonight?' The whine had reentered Derek's voice. I suspected it never stepped very far aside. 'I've lost so much blood. Surely tomorrow—'
'—will be too late,' snapped Marlboro Man.
Again the interference kept me from getting the complete reply.
'—afterwards?' said Derek.
'Leave them to us,' said Axe. 'We'll make sure of it.'
The third time was the charm for the bad guys. The sound that had kept parts of their conversation from me resumed in earnest and when it finished, I couldn't hear anything more. Derek had killed the bug.
I looked at my watch. More time had passed than I realized. Time enough, at least, to ensure that I had fully recovered for my next meeting.
'What did they say?' asked Cole.
I hesitated, but he was already in it to his neck. So I told him what I knew. 'Have you ever heard of the Tor- al-Degan?' I asked.
'Nope. But I know some people who might have.'
'Me too. And I've got to meet Bergman there in half an hour, so let's try her first.'
'Works for me.' I gave him the address and Cole took the next left, heading us away from Derek and his companions. At least now I knew what destroyed my balance every time I got close to the man. The virus he carried must be as lethal as Aidyn and Assan had advertised. Though why those two thought it needed to become a vampire cocktail I could not fathom. And where the hell did this Tor-al-Degan fit in? Obviously it was a key component in the plan, or Assan wouldn't have been so pissed about his 'final experiment' interfering with the ceremony. And in my experience, senators never showed up anywhere unless it benefited them in some way.
As it did so often, my brain looped back to the original question. Why did Derek need to hook vampires for his vicious little boss? It made no sense, no matter how I looked at it. Hopefully Cassandra would clear up the whole situation.
Chapter Fifteen
Cassandra's Pure & Natural was a tiny brick storefront in a predominantly Cuban neighborhood. Bins of fresh apples, oranges and grapefruit sat on the sidewalk beside the door which was equipped with the most soothing set of chimes I'd ever set off. Inside, the walls and aisles carried a surprisingly wide selection of spices, herbs, vitamins and natural remedies for everything from erectile dysfunction to the common cold.
I asked the cashier, a petite old woman with gleaming white teeth and blinding red hair where we could find Cassandra. She directed us to the back of the store, where shelves full of fresh-baked breads, rolls and sugar-free desserts made my stomach growl.
As soon as Cole caught sight of Cassandra he yanked off his glasses, spat out his fake teeth and wrapped them in his fishing hat, which went into the waistband of his sweats. Literally. He'd probably have to cut the lure to separate them. But at the moment he seemed pretty oblivious. All his concentration centered on Cassandra as she added some bran muffins to a glass case that already contained a full load of fiber-filled goodies for folks forced to make regularity a priority.
A slender beauty with black velvet skin and hair that fell in braids to her waist, Cassandra moved with the grace of a dancer. She wore a canary yellow blouse, red flowered skirt, beaded moccasins and enough gold jewelry to keep e-bay shoppers bidding for weeks.
'How may I help you?' she asked in an accent that made my Midwestern drawl sound pale and asexual.
'My name is Lucille Robinson,' I said. 'This is my friend, Cole Bemont.' He nodded, doing a nice job of keeping his drool in check. 'I—we—need a translation.'
She nodded. 'I assume you heard of me through a mutual acquaintance?'
'Yes, um, you would probably know him as Vayl.'
Instant sympathy filled her warm brown eyes, but all she said was, 'Yes, I remember him.' She leaned aside, caught the cashier's eye and said, 'We're going upstairs for awhile, Rita.' To us she said, 'Follow me, please.'
Cole managed to keep his tongue from rolling out onto the stairs as we trailed Cassandra's swinging hips to the second floor. It made me laugh inwardly to see him, smitten, as it were. But I was glad I'd seen the show. It confirmed my feelings for him. I might love him someday, but never in the way I'd loved Matt. Never in the way I could, maybe, if I found the guts, love Vayl.
