“In some circles he’s considered to be more important than the president.” Aaron scrubbed for a while in silence. When he had nothing left but clean floor to stare at he threw the rag in the bucket and sat back on his heels. “I don’t believe you.” Stubborn. I should have expected as much from Vayl’s spawn, even this many generations removed from his direct influence.
“Astral,” I cal ed.
I’d left the robokitty Bergman had invented for me upstairs with orders to stay in my room until she heard from me again. Hopeful y she’d function properly now that I real y needed her to pul through for me.
She streaked down the stairs, a sleek black missile on four legs with twitchy ears, a lashing tail, and a tendency to burst into inappropriate songs that had developed only after Jack had surprised her during a reconnaissance, causing her to blow her own head off. The repairs had been more, and less, than a complete success. Considering the latest eccentricity to appear in what had become the quirkiest personality I’d ever seen in a homemade cat, I was voting for less.
Jack greeted Astral by sitting up straight at Raoul’s knee. He knew better than to jump her now.
In fact, most of the time he was wil ing to wait until she approached him or cal ed him over to play. I watched her just as careful y, and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding when al she did was bob her head at me and say, “Hel o!”
I nodded at her, though I understood that I was acknowledging a mobilized supercomputer, and said, “Show me Vayl’s file. Keep the top secret parts to yourself.” Astral’s mouth ratcheted open and a light clicked on, movietheater style. At the same time a hologram of Vayl’s papers appeared in front of my face even as I heard a velvety-voiced woman reading them. “Vasil Nicu Brancoveanu. Born in what is now Mogosoaia, Romania, on November 18, 1713, though at the time the area was cal ed Wal achia. Became a vampire in 1751. Current assignment: Agent for Antiterrorism Division of the Central Intel igence Agency commonly known as ATD. Division is temporarily shut down at the request of its Oversight Committee due to the murder of one of its agents, Ethan Mreck, and its director, Peter Huttin.” Of course that wasn’t the whole truth. Our division existed as a subsidiary of the ATD, its name so secret only a few people in government had ever even heard it. And my boss, Pete, had actual y been fol owing his “secretary” Martha’s orders al along. But the rest—way more truth than I’d wanted to deal with today. Damn Aaron Sul ivan.
He said, “Why are you letting me see this?” The whites of his eyes had begun to show. “This real y isn’t a bluff, is it? It doesn’t matter what I know if you’ve already decided to kil me.” He shoved his thumb into his mouth, started to chew the nail, then quickly wrapped his arm around his back with a guilty look, like he’d been caught raiding the cookie jar. I wondered, suddenly, how many times his parents had cracked his knuckles for biting his nails as a kid.
Hiding a sudden rush of sympathy, I pul ed the gun away from his head. “You have pissed me off more deeply than anyone I’ve met in the past six months and you’re stil alive. That reads wel for your future. The fact that I’m explaining Vayl to you at al should give you even more hope.”
“But why?”
“Yes.” Vayl had come through the dining room door. He held a bag of frozen peas to the wound on his forehead. “Why do you give this young man my secrets?”
I felt Aaron do a big swal ow beside me. It’s one thing to attack an unsuspecting victim inside his front door. Especial y when you’re rushing in with your head ful of preconceived notions. It’s a whole other story to mop up the blood you spil ed and then watch your target saunter down the hal , al cleaned up and pissed as hel that you interrupted a fabulous evening, ruined his favorite shirt, and gave him a pounding headache.
I savored the moment, knowing how quickly it was about to change. Dreading the possibilities ahead of me. Vayl’s two sons had been murdered when he was stil human. He had made it his quest to find their re- embodied souls ever since. And now that the reality was staring me in the face, I wanted to annihilate it. So typical.
I stepped back, shoving Aaron’s revolver into the waistband of my jeans to make sure it was wel out of the way when I told Vayl, “Cassandra cal ed to warn me about the shooting just before it happened. Obviously I was too late to stop it, and I sure as hel wanted to fol ow through with the retribution after I’d seen what this dude had done. But she wouldn’t let me.”
“Why not?” Vayl asked, his icy blue eyes tracking every stray hair, every bruise and hol ow of his attacker, cataloguing what he saw for future reference.
I cleared my throat. “She believes he’s your son.”
Vayl went stil . His eyes broke to mine, hope blooming in them like wild daffodils. “Is she sure?”
“Not without touching him, but she spoke to him. She ran the tarot. And the Enkyklios is confirming. She says this guy Aaron is the reincarnation of your boy Badu.” I glanced at Raoul. He was watching Vayl intently, his hands buried in Jack’s fur. I realized he was hoping Vayl wouldn’t be crushed when Aaron rejected him. That, despite his personal problems with vamps, he was quietly supporting the creature he’d tried to boot out of my life a few months ago.
After a minute I realized Vayl hadn’t responded. I looked back up at him and tried to decide if he’d changed in that moment, or if I’d suddenly been given leave to see him more clearly. His hair, stil glistening with droplets from the shower, curled riotously al over his head. His jet-black eyebrows slanted like wings over eyes that had softened to gold with brown flecks dancing in their depths. They contrasted startlingly with the hard lines of his cheekbones and jaw, although when I saw the dimple appear in his right cheek I knew his feelings ran deep to the hopeful side of the bank.
“I cannot believe it.”
“Okay.”
Vayl stepped closer to the young man, the intensity of his stare making the boy look nervously for an exit. Like he’d make it that far. Vayl grasped him by the shoulders and raised him to his feet, looking so deeply into his eyes that Aaron winced as he asked shakily, “What do you want?” Then, realizing he might not like the answer, added, “I’m a real y rare blood type. It’s probably al bitter and tangy.”
“Undoubtedly,” said Vayl. He glanced at me. “How sure is she?”
“I’d guess about eighty percent.”
