The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Song) Page 10

  I sat down on the bottom step, breathing hard, as if I’d been running. What the hell was wrong with me?

  Slowly my brain started to focus. Had Kevin said video conference? I’d asked him to set one up, but hadn’t really thought he would. He’d been so damned uncooperative last night.

  I knocked gently at the door. I couldn’t smell him anymore, but I bet the wolf in him could smell me. Hopefully he’d realize that it was safe—that I was safe, now. He opened the door a crack and peered in at me, estimating the threat, while I squinted past him at the living room. My plain human vision showed me that he’d set up video equipment in the center of the main room. All right then.

  “I’m going to hit the bathroom and change so I look presentable for the camera.”

  He nodded, pleased that I didn’t press to go to the others right away. Vampires are tricky, so my backing down hopefully helped him realize I was probably back to normal. At least I thought I was.

  Bruno had brought the bag sitting at the bottom of the stairs. I could tell by what he’d packed—all things he could pick up at my office, including a change of clothes. He’d even brought my spare makeup kit, which I kept in my desk. Best of all, he’d brought weapons—not mine, he couldn’t have gotten into the safe, but a sweet little Glock with an ankle holster. And people wonder why I love him.

  Twenty minutes later, after a shower and makeup, I was fit to step in front of a camera. The front room was already buzzing, but I easily spotted Bruno, who looked like he’d been through the wringer. There were dark circles under his eyes, he had beard stubble, and his eyes had darkened to almost black, the way they do when he’s really, seriously angry. He smiled when he saw me, which softened the harsh lines of his face a little. But only a little, and only for a minute. He was wearing black jeans and a black Bayview college sweatshirt that had the sleeves chopped short and had a vertical slit cut in the neckline.

  “Morning, sunshine.” Bruno tried to shake off his weariness for my benefit. He came over to give me a hug and a quick kiss. “Mnn. You taste like peaches.” He licked his lips.

  “Baby food,” I admitted, giving him a quick squeeze. “Better than snacking on you guys. What’s up?” I asked. He shook his head. Apparently he didn’t want to talk about it, at least not in front of the others. Okay, we’ll go with a safe topic. “What have I missed?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t get the chance as Dom Rizzoli tapped me on the shoulder. He’s the only FBI agent I know well enough to be friendly with. Short, dark, and as Italian as pasta, he was wearing his “fedley” suit: nice, dark gray suit coat and pants, white shirt, blue tie, and black shoes with a high gloss.

  “We’re on.”

  I didn’t want to leave Bruno’s side, but there was no arguing with Rizzoli when he used that tone. Besides, he was most likely in the thick of things, and I needed to know what was going on. So I gave my sweetie another hug and walked over to the video setup. Kevin pointed to a masking-tape X on the floor and I stood on it.

  “Good morning, Princess.” On the monitor in front of me, Hiwahiwa bowed at the waist. “It is good to see you well. Princess Adriana will be joining us in a moment.”

  I dipped my head and shoulders slightly in return. “And good morning to you.”

  “Hello, Celia.” King Dahlmar’s voice. The video screen in front of me now split into four sections. Hiwahiwa was in the upper left, Dahlmar in the lower right. I spotted Creede standing next to him. I hadn’t expected him to be there, but should have. After all, John Creede has saved the king’s tail more than once. It would make sense for the king to call on him for such a special occasion as his wedding.

  John’s a handsome man, with a strong jaw and good cheekbones. His eyes are the color of honey, his hair a warm light brown with golden highlights. He keeps it cut short, or it would fall in unmanageable and unmanly curls. His nose is sharp, not quite a beak, though there is something like a bird of prey about him.

  “Your Majesty. You look well.”

  He made a small scoffing sound that most kings wouldn’t be seen making. “My future wife was nearly killed. Her mother is in the hospital. My country is turmoil and terrorists are plotting. Hardly well, I’m afraid.”

  There wasn’t much to say to that, so I didn’t respond. Creede gave me a brief nod. His expression was odd. Part teeth-gritted anger; part sad, puppy-eye regret. He looked good, but like he’d already been through a long day. As usual, both he and the king were wearing splendid suits.

  I wasn’t thrilled at my own image, in the fourth segment of the screen. I didn’t look great. Nobody had mentioned it yet, but only because they were all too polite. If it’s true that television adds twenty pounds, I was in real trouble. I’ve been dropping weight for a while because of my nearly all-liquid diet and it was really starting to show. I’d gone from fashionable to gaunt in the last six weeks. But at least I was dressed in my own clothes, which mostly fit. For a moment I imagined what I’d look like in Emma’s duds—we are so not the same size or body type—and my stomach turned over.

  Before I could say anything, my image disappeared, replaced by Queen Lopaka’s. That made sense.

  She was propped up in the hospital bed. Standing on either side of her, out of the way of the medical equipment, was a pair of her personal guards, looking grim and determined. I understood the grim. I hope the full complement of four were in the room, two out of sight of the video camera. In the background, I caught a glimpse of the aquarium. A pair of angel fish floated next to a seahorse in the blue-tinted salt water, while a starfish crawled up the side wall.

  “Greetings, niece, Dahlmar, Mage Creede.” I noticed that she didn’t address Rusland’s ruler as “King.” Well, they were about to become family. First-name terms for her future son-in-law seemed reasonable.

  At least I’d finally learned enough protocol to know that when the siren queen addressed me as family, I was supposed to do the same. “Good morning, Aunt Lopaka, I’m glad to see you up and about.” I was. She didn’t look good, but she was alive and upright. And if she was online, she was out of ICU. Chances were good she’d recover fully given a bit of time.

  “Thanks to you in great part. Without your warning I’d be dead. As it is, I believe I may actually wind up with scars to rival yours.”

  Hiwahiwa’s image was replaced with that of the queen’s daughter. As always, Adriana was a vision of auburn-haired beauty. Today she was wearing a raw-silk suit in forest green, a cream-colored blouse, and emerald jewelry. She made me feel like a toad. She looked directly into the camera and for some reason I was sure it was my image she was staring at. After a moment, her eyes went distant and I knew she was having a vision.

  I’d been with Adriana once before in a vision. She seemed to work best when helped through the images. I wasn’t sure anyone else had noticed her going out of focus, so I held up one hand to keep the others from speaking, leaned forward slightly, and said, “What do you see?”

  “You have … fangs, and scars.” Her voice was gentle and floaty.

  “I do. Is that important?” Most of the worst scars were covered, but the tank top I wore under my blazer had a scoop neck that didn’t completely conceal the claw marks where a demon had gone after my heart.

  I motioned to Bruno for a paper and pen and waved at Hiwahiwa to come closer to the camera. I wrote down a message on the pad Bruno handed me and held it up for Hiwahiwa to see. Put a cool, wet cloth against the back of her neck.

  It had worked before to help Adriana out of a vision. Because, realistically, we didn’t have all day for her to get lost in her head. Hiwahiwa leapt to obey. She pulled the scarf from around her waist, quickly wet it with some water from a pitcher, then carefully placed the damp scarf against the neck of her princess.

  Adriana laughed abruptly, coming back to herself in a rush. “Oh! I’m such a fool.” She was talking to herself, so I didn’t answer.

  “Adriana?” Lopaka’s voice was both sharp and concerned. The
queen warring with the mother.

  “I’m sorry, Mother.” Adriana turned slightly, addressing the image of her mother, I suppose. “I just realized it hasn’t been Celia in my visions. So many visions since I met her, but not her. It’s someone who looks like her, but without the scars or fangs.” She was having a hard time containing her happiness, which was a little weird considering the circumstances of the meeting, but probably made perfect sense to her in terms of the vision.

  She turned to Hiwahiwa and touched her shoulder. “The cloth helped.”

  The secretary looked startled that Adriana had touched her. She bowed her head and was modest. “It was Princess Celia’s idea, Highness. I was only the instrument of her instruction.”

  Adriana looked at the camera and smiled. “My thanks once again, cousin.” I just nodded. She could have thanked Hiwahiwa, too. But it wouldn’t do any good to step into that mess. I’d learned long ago that Adriana considered her staff mere tools, whereas I thought of them as closer to friends. Of course, Adriana had touched her, which is something I’d never seen her do. Maybe I was rubbing off on her or maybe she was preparing for her new role as queen. Today’s royalty have to be more hands-on than in the past. Princess Diana changed a lot of things.

  “I see.” Lopaka obviously didn’t, but she wasn’t about to let a little thing like a vision derail this meeting. She spoke briskly, in a tone that made it clear she wasn’t interested in anyone’s reaction to what she was saying. “Celia, I know you are going to object, but as your queen and your aunt, I insist that you have a security detail, at least until after the wedding.”

  “No.” My voice wasn’t angry or insulted. It was just firm.

  She tried reason again, maybe understanding she had no real way to make demands of me. “You have been specifically targeted by terrorists because you are a member of our family. They may also have seen, as our prophets have, that you are instrumental in keeping Adriana alive and seeing her safely wed. So, object if you must, but I’m going to insist that you have at least one agent with you at all times.”

  I opened my mouth but was preempted.

  “I agree,” Dahlmar said firmly. “The wedding must go forward as scheduled. We cannot show any sign of weakness. But Celia’s life is too important to be risked needlessly. She should be guarded as well as the rest of our families.”

  Adriana was nodding wordlessly.

  Maybe reason would work in reverse, too. “What you’re asking simply isn’t possible, Aunt. I appreciate the sentiment. I do. But the roles of protector and protectee are very fixed. Adriana saw me as part of her wedding party in the role of a protector. I’m happy to take that role because it’s what I’m trained to do. But I cannot be watched and guided and followed at the same time, just as you could not be both queen and waitstaff at the same dinner. If I’m guarding Adriana, I cannot allow anyone else—including another guard—to be close to her. The risk might be from the guard—intentional or not. Can you see my concern?”

  Lopaka entered my mind, and her voice was the angry sound of chimes caught in a hurricane. Celia, don’t be dense. This is another situation like the one at the shop. The eyes of the entire world are on us. It is necessary that you be publicly acknowledged as the valued member of the royal family you are. You must have the same kind of protection as any other member of the royal family. I will advise my head of security to assign someone you approve of to work with you and to help you select a team who will facilitate your work in protecting my daughter. I must insist on this.

  I didn’t like that but there had to be a solution that would satisfy everyone. Give me a moment to think.

  She turned so smoothly to address her daughter that I doubted anyone knew she and I had spoken privately. “Adriana, I know you did not want to leave my side in the hospital, but I appreciate you making that sacrifice. Queen Chiyoko…” She let the sentence go unfinished. Probably best. I’d met Queen Chiyoko, another of the siren royals, from the Pacific Rim siren clan. From what I’d seen, there wasn’t any nice way to finish a sentence about her. Maybe she was a terrific ruler. I didn’t know. I did know she was arrogant, ambitious, and wanted to see me dead.

  “She and some of the other queens are already here and have requested the large conference room for later today.” Adriana’s eyes flashed dangerously. Chiyoko was definitely a tough customer, but I wouldn’t want to cross Adriana with that look on her face. “Don’t worry about a thing, Mother. I will take care of it. Concentrate on getting well. You will have your throne to come back to.”

  Apparently Lopaka had seen the same steel in her daughter that I had. She smiled, proud and pleased. “I don’t doubt it. You will be a fine queen, daughter.”

  There was a flicker of warmth in the green eyes. Adriana spoke again, with a heavy sigh. “I don’t worry about my safety for the moment, but I won’t be able to leave Serenity for the duration of this impromptu queens’ council. Celia, I must ask for your help. Someone must be responsible for obtaining the bridesmaids’ dresses. And someone must guard Natasha and Olga as well.”

  I hated it, but she was right. If someone was whittling down the wedding party to disrupt the event, the bridesmaids were certain targets. But while Adriana was confident about her safety, I didn’t know that I agreed. A lot of people live on Serenity, not to mention the many visitors arriving for the wedding. No doubt the queen’s guard and security force was going to be pressed to the limit, running background checks on every guest and citizen. I certainly couldn’t be at two places at once. Serenity. Who was on Seren—? Okay. I had a thought about a scenario I could accept. Lopaka must have been listening in to my thoughts because she lifted delicate blonde eyebrows just as I once again raised a hand to catch everyone’s eyes. “Sorry to interrupt, but how about this—I’ve worked with Helen Baker of the Siren Guard. I trust her skill, and her loyalty is without question. If she’s available, I’d be willing to work with her as a partner in protecting Adriana and the Rusland bridesmaids. Partners protect each other, which meets your desires, and I can trust her to guard Adriana while on Serenity, meeting my goals. Would that be satisfactory?”

  Lopaka nodded. “That would be satisfactory. Her skill is renowned and I would trust her with my life … or that of my daughter. I will make her available.”

  Adriana mirrored her mother’s dip of the head. “Baker is acceptable.”

  It didn’t appear that Dahlmar had met her, even though he was once on the island when she was working with me. He deferred the issue about the protection of his future bride to Creede by looking up at him with a questioning expression. Creede said, “I’ve met her. She’s qualified. Quick, a good shot, smart. No objection from me.”

  My cousin actually breathed a little visible sigh, as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “Then it’s settled. Celia, as for the dresses, at this point I honestly don’t care what they look like or how much they cost. Just get the bridesmaids into a shop and find something suitable. Your taste in clothing seems to be similar to my own.”

  Wait. She wanted me to shop for the bridesmaids’ dresses? With Olga and Natasha? I bit my tongue until I tasted blood. I wasn’t going to say anything because anything I said would come out bitchy. I might think all kinds of things, and the telepaths might hear them, but my lips would be sealed.

  Creede raised a single eyebrow, and I swear I saw the hint of a smile twitch at the corner of his mouth. Surely he couldn’t read my mind from such a long distance? Surely not.

  Could he?

  Another smile twitched at his lips. But when he spoke his voice was utterly bland and businesslike as he changed topics. “The authorities have spent the last several hours going over the magical signatures of the evidence. Both Mr. DeLuca’s signature and mine were on some of the artifacts that had been shattered and worked into the bullets. So the authorities were very interested in what the two of us have been up to. I was detained and have been answering questions. As, I believe, has Mr. DeLuca. Fortunately for
each of us, it was obvious that the items had been created some time ago.”

  Oh, crap. That explained why Bruno looked like hell. Frankly, I was a little surprised he’d gotten out as quickly as he did. It had to have been ugly. I was surprised neither of them was still in custody or being questioned. I looked from one to the other. They might have been friends if not for me. As it was, they respected each other as men, mages, and rivals.

  Creede continued, “There was a more recent signature I didn’t recognize. Bruno, had you seen it before?”

  I stepped back so that Bruno could stand on the X. “It was vaguely familiar.” He ran his hand through his hair in an unconscious gesture of frustration. “I know I’ve seen it somewhere, but I can’t pin down where. I’d thought it might be from when we worked with so many people on the rift. But if you don’t recognize it, that can’t be it.”

  That got me thinking: Where had Bruno spent time with a bunch of magic users without Creede?

  The answer was obvious, at least to me. “The college.” Emma echoed me an instant later as Kevin nodded. Clearly I hadn’t been the only one to figure it out.

  Rizzoli looked from me to Bruno, to Creede, to Kevin and Emma. “All right, people. Somebody spill it. What college? What are we talking about?”

  I didn’t answer, just turned to Bruno. Rizzoli was quick. He’d catch on in a second without a blow-by-blow. “It’s got to be. Who there has enough juice—”