Blood Ascendant (Blood Stone Book 5) Read online

“Dante trained him well,” Rory said, her voice mellow and smooth. “The squad is in good hands.”

  “And you trained them?” There was admiration in Blythe’s voice. She looked at Patrick Sauvage. “We need a decent leader to run a unit covering the eastern end of the ranges, up by the aqueduct. We’re vulnerable there.”

  Patrick leaned forward, as if to speak.

  “Hold off on the shop talk just for a minute,” Nial said. “You can shove a sword in Dante’s hand afterward, if he wants to cooperate, although Lucas Ford might have something to say about that. First, let’s finish this. Dante, Rory, this is Francesca, Dominic’s sister. She came out from Chile about six months ago.”

  Francesca nodded to the newcomers. “I don’t fight. I don’t play sports. I clean very well, though.” She had a light accent and a bright smile, which changed her face from that of a plain, middle-aged woman showing signs of long term exhaustion, making her seem much younger and prettier.

  “I like cleaning,” Rory told her. “It’s therapeutic.”

  Francesca’s face lit up once more. “Yes,” she agreed. “It is. And people tell me I am crazy when I say that.”

  “The man sitting next to Francesca is Azarel,” Nial said.

  “No last name?” Dante asked Azarel, who nodded at them both.

  “I didn’t have a first name, until Nial gave me one,” Azarel said.

  “You’re not vampire,” Dante said. His tone said he was sure of himself on that point.

  “I am…” Azarel sighed and looked at Nial.

  “You’re the Serene One,” Rory said softly. There was awe in her voice.

  Sasha looked at the man. He had noticed his eyes already. Now he took a longer look at him. It didn’t pay to underestimate anyone he met in Nial’s circle of friends and acquaintances. Azarel was slender and looked weak and if he had met him anywhere else, Sasha would have dismissed him as harmless.

  Yet if he was the Serene Ones’ representative here, then no one could afford to ignore him for a moment. He had the ability to change the world as they knew it, if he wanted to.

  However, no one else was looking at him with the same awe that Rory and Dante were. Nial’s expression was neutral, while Roman looked irritated. Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Not that serene,” he said in a quiet voice.

  Dominic snorted, then smothered his laugh.

  Azarel ignored all the reactions. “If we must use that silly name, then yes, that is I.”

  “What do you call yourself, then?” Rory asked.

  “Only humans insist on naming things.”

  “You are human right now, aren’t you?”

  Azarel smiled. It was a gorgeous smile. “Very human,” he said, his voice low.

  Rory’s smile back was slow and heated.

  Dante put his hand on Rory’s arm. “Dissect him later,” he said quietly.

  She nodded.

  Interesting, Sasha thought. He wondered what the relationship was between the two of them. It wasn’t intimate, or Dante would have objected strenuously to the little by-play between Rory and Azarel. She had virtually stripped him with her eyes and smile and he’d had no objections at all.

  Yet Dante had deflected her attention. That spoke of intimate knowledge and a high degree of trust.

  Garrett cleared his throat. “Nial, you missed Sasha.”

  Nial gave Sasha a small smile. “No, I just hadn’t got to him yet. Rory, Dante, this is Marlen Alexandrovich Mikhailov. He’s human, a GRU member and vampire loyalist.” Nial did not mispronounce any of his names.

  Rory’s smile was small. “I am pleased to meet you,” she told him. Her smile faded and her gaze moved on.

  Sasha felt a jolt as if he’d touched bare wires.

  “You’re a spy?” Dante said. “I’ve always thought it must be far less glamorous than James Bond makes it look like.”

  There was a pressure in the middle of Sasha’s chest, making his torso ache. In the far reaches of his mind, nearly out of the range of conscious thought, was the knowledge that this man could command Rory’s attention, as apparently he could not. Sasha knew he needed to step away from the crowd and think about it. He had to figure out what the hell was eating him. It made him careless. He shrugged. “I don’t do it for the ratings,” he said shortly and turned away.

  Dante’s lips parted in surprise.

  Sasha headed for the kitchen, the one place where he was sure no one else would be, because they were all in this room.

  Chapter Six

  Kate tried all the front rooms first, because the chances that Garrett would be in one of them was highest. Nial and the others were gathered around Rory, who was checking out Sebastian’s hacker’s wet dream in the front office. Kate let her gaze flicker over Dante one more time. His shoulders really were that big. Holy cow bells.

  She had watched Dante Santana tearing up the field more than once. She had been a Rams fan. The ‘49ers had whooped their ass more than once. She had often left a game running in the background while working on edits and other post-production tasks and paperwork, pausing to watch replays.

  It wasn’t a big surprise to her that he actively hunted, although it had not been the public reason he had given for retiring from football. It did surprise her that he was so good at it. Athletic ability didn’t always transfer over to other skills, although the very natural athletes were able to pick up a new skill more quickly than less physical people. Clearly, Dante was born to compete.

  More curious for her was the relationship between Dante and Rory. Kate had caught his glance at the vampire, when he had thought himself unobserved. There had been a degree of feeling in it that belied the just-good-friends status they showed the world. It didn’t look as though his feelings for her were returned.

  Garrett was not in the office with the rest, ogling either Dante or Rory. Kate wondered if the demarcation lines of awe were as obvious to everyone else as they were to her. She was used to reading faces, though, so perhaps no one else had realized that all the vampires were gaga over Rory, while all the humans were admiring Dante and his sports prowess.

  Kate went to the back of the house, to try the kitchen, although the only reason Garrett would have for being there was to get her something to eat. As Garrett had slid a plate of bacon and tomatoes in front of her less than two hours ago, the chances he would be in the kitchen were fractional at best.

  The day-time guard, Efraim, was sitting at the table. “Where’s Kimball?” she asked him, for the two of them seemed to be joined at the hip at times.

  “He went to the airport to pick up Marcus and Ilaria. Should be back soon.”

  Sadness touched Kate, along with the little jump that came with the reminder that even vampires were not invulnerable. Garrett and Roman went out hunting with the local unit almost every night, unless Nial specifically asked them to hunt with Patrick’s units. Most nights, Kate went to sleep with the knowledge that they were both stronger, older and smarter than almost everything walking the earth and that gave them an edge. Only, Rick had been older than either of them.

  She still didn’t have details on how he had died. She didn’t want to ask Nial. There was a fine edge to his control these days that she didn’t want to test. No one else had any details, yet.

  “Have you seen Garrett?” she asked Efraim, deliberately closing down any speculation about Rick and vampire vulnerabilities.

  Efraim shook his head. “Sorry.”

  Kate nodded toward the door over his shoulder. “What is back there? The pool?”

  “Conservatory. Feel free to look around.”

  “Thanks.” She moved passed him. The door was open behind him. There was a broad step just beyond the door, then two steps down to a floor of natural slate. The air was warmer here and it was much brighter.

  She looked up. The roof overhead was all glass and steel support struts. Because of the time of year, every second pane had been slid open. Even so, she could still feel the humidity in the conservatory. The skin
over her nose and cheeks relaxed in the moist air.

  There were green plants everywhere—broad-leafed palms and the delicate swirl of ferns. Water trickled somewhere ahead and the floor was damp. Someone had watered the plants not too long ago. The smell of damp earth and growing things was strong and Kate inhaled, enjoying it.

  There was a corridor made of potted plants that she followed around a gentle bend. Beyond, the path opened up into a larger area. Two big doors stood open to one side. She could see the pool beyond them. There was a pair of sun loungers tucked into a corner made by the plants and a small table and two chairs out in the middle of the space, making her think of private courtyards in Paris.

  Sasha was sitting at the table, his chin on his fist. There was a small mason jar in front of him, with brown liquid in it. It was too dark for alcohol. He looked up as she rounded the corner, a scowl on his face.

  Kate remembered that Sasha had not been in awe of Dante at all. His put down and departure had broken up the meeting.

  “Hiding?” she asked him.

  “Thinking,” he said.

  She glanced around. Clearly, Garrett was not here, unless he was crouched down behind a palm, because he didn’t want to be found. She studied Sasha. “have you see Garrett?”

  “He was talking to his cellphone, out by the pool, about ten minutes ago.” Sasha’s scowl didn’t shift. “He didn’t look happy.”

  “Probably one of Garrett’s calls to Boston. They’re becoming legendary,” Kate told him lightly. She hesitated, then, because a human mystery was irresistible to her, she added, “What you said to Dante was pretty legendary, too.”

  Sasha grimaced and picked up the jar by the top edge and swirled it. “It got out by itself,” he admitted.

  “You don’t like sportsmen, then?”

  “Football isn’t a sport,” he replied. “Gymnastics is a sport. Swimming, diving, track and field. They are all sports. They are achievements. Football is entertainment.”

  The derision in his voice was strong.

  “Ouch,” Kate said lightly.

  “What you do…that is not entertainment. It’s not just entertainment.”

  “You’re a movie fan,” she guessed.

  “I have never paid for a movie ticket in my life.”

  “You like story-telling,” she guessed, teasing out the qualification and what it meant. “Patrick leaves you cold, yet the characters he plays you like watching. Fame has nothing to do with it.”

  Sasha considered it, then he nodded and sipped at the jar.

  “Favorite director?” Kate asked.

  “Fellini, Verhoeven, Chaplin, Hitchcock and you…almost.”

  “Almost?”

  He shook his head. “That zombie thing….”

  She laughed. “Everyone has a clunker in their closet, even Hitchcock. Besides, that zombie thing bankrolled most of the finance for this one I’m working on now. It was a fantastic success if you’re only looking at box office.”

  “What story are you doing now?”

  Kate was on the verge of spitting out the elevator pitch she used with financiers and others in the industry, then stopped. Sasha wanted to know what story she was working on. He wasn’t interested in high concept or genre. She dropped back to the original inspiration that had started the project, because she knew he would understand. “Remember the old war-time movies?”

  “Man Hunt, Desperate Journey, Mrs. Miniver, Bataan. Edge of Darkness.” He smiled. “Song of Russia.”

  “Don’t forget Casablanca,” she added, smiling. Only a true aficionado of film stories could rattle off a list like that.

  “That’s what you’re making? A war story? About the Summanus?”

  He did understand. She was pleased. “Bravery. Courage. Loss, heartbreak and….”

  “Victory,” he finished softly. “I would pay to see a movie like that,” he added.

  “Thank you,” she said, touched and pleased.

  Sasha sipped from the mason jar.

  “Tea?” Kate asked, remembering the Russian preference for tea in a glass.

  “I couldn’t find a glass.”

  “A coffee mug would have saved your fingers,” she pointed out.

  “I’m not that Westernized,” he protested.

  She held up a hand. “So you are hiding out here. From Dante and Rory, I’m guessing.”

  Sasha shook his head. “From everyone. I told you. I wanted to think.”

  Ah… She pointed to the other chair and he nodded, so she pulled it out and sat down. “You’re a classic introvert,” she said. “You have to get away from people to re-energize. Too many people in the room this morning, Sasha?”

  He stared at her. Then his gaze dropped. “If I know in advance, I’m fine.” He looked at her again. “I did not understand this about myself until you said it just now. How did you know?”

  She smiled. “You would be stunned at the number of really big Hollywood stars who break into a sweat in a room full of people, if they have to stay there for long. Introverts, all of them.”

  Sasha shook his head, the thick black brows coming together. “That doesn’t make any sense at all. Why would someone like them…us…seek out fame?”

  “They don’t,” Kate said flatly. “Or, they don’t understand what fame really means until they’re in the middle of the worst of it. They get into acting because it is the ultimate face mask. They’re not being themselves when they’re working. Most of them learn to deal with public functions as just more work, too. You do that as well, I think. Marcus said you were one of the very best at what you do. That’s a type of mask.”

  Sasha nodded. “It is. There’s just no spotlight to go with it.” He shuddered and drank deeply.

  “Then you and Dante really are opposites,” Kate said. “That makes what you said all the more understandable.” She got to her feet.

  “I should apologize.”

  “I think he’s heard worse, before.”

  There was crunching on the steps beyond the open doors, drawing her attention. It was Garrett. He had his cellphone in his hand and he looked thunderous.

  Her heart squeezed. It took a lot to rattle Garrett these days. Any day, really. He was the ultimate in cool-headedness, after so many years of in-fighting over boardroom tables.

  Kate gave Sasha a small smile and hurried over to Garrett. “Everything okay?” she asked quietly.

  “I can’t raise anyone in Boston.”

  “No signal?”

  “I get through just fine. I’m reaching voicemail all over the place. No one is picking up, though.”

  “No one at all? Not even that assistant, what’s his name?”

  “Jared. His voicemail is the default message, which is a bad sign.” He sighed. “I’ve been away too long.”

  Kate turned him around and led him back out onto the tiles around the swimming pool, out of range of Sasha’s hearing. “Then the reason I came looking for you isn’t going to make you any happier.”

  Garrett looked down at her and for a sharp moment, she remembered the first day they had ever met in person, after months of chatting on-line without knowing it was really him. She had almost worshipped his business acumen, in her own version of fan adoration.

  Now she could look at him and remember his kisses, his caresses and a whole parade of emotions on his face and in his eyes, that only Roman and she ever got to see. Her love swelled in her chest.

  “Kate?”

  She shook her head. “Your credit card bounced.” She dug the card out of her pocket and held it out.

  “There you are. Kate, you went missing.”

  She looked over her shoulder. Patrick bounced down the wide brick steps to where they were standing. He looked tanned, fit and energetic. Becoming a vampire had done more for him than minimizing his addiction issues to next to zero. He had found a purpose in life beyond acting and it had made a huge difference. So had falling in love.

  “I didn’t think American Express bounced anythi
ng,” Kate said in an undertone to Garrett, sliding it in before Patrick reached them.

  “They don’t, for me,” Garrett said. “They shouldn’t, anyway.” He took the card, frowning. “This isn’t good. What do you need? What were you trying to buy?”

  “Sebastian says he knows where we can get a good Thunderbolt hard drive for the editing computer, which we really need…and we can go into it later,” she said quickly.

  “I heard all that, sorry,” Patrick said. He looked at Garrett. “We do need the drive. It’s painful watching Kate change something, then wait thirty seconds for the screen to respond. She could work much faster with another hard drive…or so Sebastian says.”

  “I’d work much better with a full editing studio, too, instead of trying to do this on Patrick’s dining room table….” She shrugged.

  “The joys of independent film making.” Patrick grinned.

  Garrett lifted the card. “I’ll find out why they bounced this and sort it out, as quickly as I can.”

  “I can buy the drive in the meantime,” Patrick said.

  “No, Pat,” Kate said quickly. “You’re in on this movie deep enough. I won’t take any more of your personal reserves. Garrett is loaded, anyway. I could buy a dozen drives and he wouldn’t notice.”

  “True,” Garrett said easily. Once, any discussion of money in front of anyone, including her and Roman, would have made him deeply uneasy. He was a private man, yet he was learning how to trust, at last.

  “I’ve spent decades stockpiling record-breaking contract fees,” Patrick assured her. “I fully expect to make it all back and then some, anyway.”

  Garrett held up the card. “Until I look into this, Patrick is your best bet. The silence in Boston is probably connected.”

  Pat touched her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go buy this thing.”

  Kate gave up with a sigh. “Okay. Only because we really need it.”

  “In that case, I’ll buy two.”

  “Patrick!”

  “Okay, five then.”

  It wasn’t until much later, when the drives had been delivered and Sebastian was helping them with installation, that Kate had a moment to wonder about Sasha and his unprovoked antipathy toward Rory and Dante.