anger with some swordplay.”
Robby stepped outside onto the brick pavement, and icy cold air stung his face. His breath vaporized as he exhaled. He followed Jean-Luc toward the gymnasium. He didn’t feel angry anymore. He just felt weary and tired. And so alone.
The cell phone in his sporran rang, and he halted with a jerk. Was it her? He reached in the sporran, grabbed the phone and opened it. “Hello?”
“Robby, I’m calling from London.” Emma MacKay spoke briskly. “Something came up that I thought you should know about.”
“You have a lead on Casimir?” Robby asked.
“No, an e-mail came through the MacKay S and I website. Someone from the FBI is requesting information about you.”
His chest tightened. “Who?”
“It was signed O. Sotiris.”
His heart lurched. “’Tis Olivia.”
“The woman you met on Patmos?” Emma asked.
“Aye.” Robby grinned. If she was investigating him, then she hadn’t given up on him.
“Shall I send her some information?” Emma asked. “I could make you sound really good.”
“I’ll take care of it. Forward the request to me at Romatech.”
Emma chuckled. “All right. Good luck.” She rang off.
Robby snapped his phone shut, still grinning.
“Let me guess.” Jean-Luc smiled. “You need to return to Romatech right away.”
“Aye, I do.”
Jean-Luc slapped him on the shoulder. “Go get her,
CHAPTER 14
Birth: October 21, 1719. Scotland.
Death: April 16, 1746. Culloden, Scotland.
Transformation: Sired by Angus MacKay.
There was no way around it. He’d have to send Olivia a pack of lies.
Phineas McKinney lounged in a chair, watching the wall of security monitors. “I’m bored.” He propped his feet up on another chair. “At least I have something to do tonight. I’m supposed to meet Stan the Snitch in twenty minutes. You want to tag along?”
“Nay, I’m busy.” Robby began typing his response to Olivia, using the generic MacKay S&I e-mail address.
“Are you kidding?” Phineas asked. “I thought you hated Stan. You could threaten him with bodily harm and watch him squirm. It’ll be fun, bro.”
Robby shrugged one shoulder. “’Tis Casimir I really want to kill. Stan is more useful as an informant.” He glanced up. “Have ye learned anything from him?”
“No. The Russians in Brooklyn don’t know squat. Stan and I usually have a few Bleers while he gripes about how crazy their leader Nadia is.” Phineas yawned. “He’s an okay dude once you get to know him.”
The door opened and Connor strode inside. “How’s it going?”
“Boring,” Phineas muttered. “Casimir needs to get his act together, so we can kick some ass again.”
Connor arched a brow. “When is the last time ye practiced yer fencing? If ye want to kick ass, ye need to stay prepared.”
“You want to rumble, Scotty?” Phineas sat up. “I’ll take you on. Name the time and place of your humiliating defeat.”
Connor’s mouth twitched. “Three A.M., the back garden, claymores. The practice ones, of course. I doona wish to do ye permanent harm.”
Phineas smirked. “Bring it on, dude. I’ve been practicing with Jack.”
Connor shrugged. “I can beat Jack with one hand tied behind my back.”
“Ha!” Phineas scoffed. “I heard Jack cut your little ponytail off with his foil.”
Connor chuckled, then turned to Robby. “How about you? Ye want to fight the winner? Which would be me, of course.”
Phineas snorted.
“I’m busy.” Robby frowned at the monitor.
“He’s romancing a hot babe,” Phineas whispered loudly.
“Piss off,” Robby muttered.
Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Are ye serious? Ye’re no’ involved with a mortal, are ye?”
“None of yer business.” Robby typed a few more words, then changed his mind and deleted them.
“It
Robby glanced at him. “Maybe ye enjoy being alone for yer entire miserable existence, but I’d like to find someone to share my life with.”
Connor groaned. “Another hopeless romantic. And for yer information, I doona consider myself miserable.”
Phineas snorted. “Show of hands. Who thinks Connor’s a miserable old gasbag?” He waved his hand in the air while giving Robby a pointed look.
Robby smiled and lifted his hand.
Connor rolled his eyes. “I could insult ye both now, but I’ll just wait till I have ye pinned to the ground, begging for mercy.”
“We’ll see who does the begging, bro,” Phineas said.
Robby drummed his fingers on the desk. He didn’t know what age he should claim. “How old would ye say I look?”
“I’d say…thirty-three.” Phineas winced when Robby made a face. “I meant thirty. Not a day over thirty.”
“How old were ye when Angus changed you?” Connor asked.
“I was twenty-seven.” Robby gave Phineas an annoyed look. “Life was tougher back then. Everyone aged faster.”
“Just make up a number, bro. How would she ever know the truth?”
Robby groaned inwardly. Sooner or later he would have to tell her the truth. “I’ll say I’m twenty-nine.” It sounded better than thirty, and he wouldn’t appear too much older than Olivia.
Phineas rose to his feet and stretched. “Well, I’ve got to grab a few Bleers and meet Stan.”
“I’ll go with you,” Connor offered.
The two Vamps strode from the office. Peace, at last. Robby went to work, finishing his message to Olivia.
Olivia arrived at work an hour early so she could continue her extracurricular research. She was still scouring the Internet, looking for any reference to Robert Alexander MacKay. The day before, she’d e-mailed MacKay S&I for information. All day long she’d checked her e-mail, anxious for a response. Nothing.
She’d called the warden at Leavenworth, and he agreed to send her a list of everyone who’d had contact with Otis Crump. The fax arrived in the afternoon, and she and J.L. had examined the list. The only people who had visited Otis were Harrison and herself. A number of people had mailed letters to him: his mother, his brother, and a few female admirers. The mother lived over a hundred miles away in Missouri. J.L. offered to go with her the next weekend to interview the woman. All Olivia needed to do was ask the lady if she was sending her apples. She would instantly know whether the mother was telling the truth.
Olivia downloaded her e-mail while she stashed her handbag in the drawer. Her breath caught when she saw the response from MacKay S&I. She clicked on it.
Olivia sat back and read the last line again. It seemed almost identical to something Robby had told her on Patmos. She checked the e-mail address:
She read the entire message again. It was a favorable report where Robby was concerned, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d written the last line himself. In fact, he could have written the whole damned thing.
His grandfather owned the organization. He could have passed her request straight to Robby. She gritted her teeth. Dammit. Now she felt like a fool. Did he really think she wouldn’t figure this out?
She hit Reply, then typed a message. With a grim smile, she hit Send.
All day long she checked for a response. Nothing.
By the time she left work that evening, she was beginning to doubt her initial conclusion. If Robby was behind this, he would have responded by now.
Robby woke that evening in his small room in Romatech’s basement. One whole wing of the complex’s basement had recently been transformed into guest rooms for the Undead. He quickly dressed, grabbed a bottle of synthetic blood from his minifridge, and dashed up to the MacKay security office. While his e-mail downloaded, he drank from the bottle.
He smiled when an e-mail from O. Sotiris appeared. He clicked on it, and his smile faded.
