“He’s coming,” Pritti said softly. “He’s nearly there.”
“You can read him?” Nayara asked, her tone urgent.
“He’s blocking me. Just me. I can see everywhere around him and the blank place where he isn’t.”
Marley glanced at Nayara to see if she could offer any clues that would unravel Pritti’s meaning. Nayara seemed to follow along just fine, but she didn’t offer an explanation. “Bring the others here, Pritti. Now or sooner.”
Marley held up a hand. “You should know,” she said, speaking to both of them, “I believe that Pritti’s talent and her use of it in this extended way is responsible for much of her deterioration.” She looked at Nayara. “If you ask her to use herself like this, it…well, it won’t help.”
Nayara bit her lip, clearly torn by her dilemma.
“They’re on their way,” Pritti said happily.
* * * * *
Prague, Czech Republic, 2264 A.D.: Consuelo led them to the south end of Wenceslas Square, through to the Old Town section of the city. She moved steadily through streets that dated from medieval times, not stopping and not looking around to check they were still on her tail.
“Do either of you know Prague at all?” Kieren murmured. “Where might she be heading?”
“The Old Jewish Cemetery is straight ahead,” Adán said. “Unless the Czechs have turned centuries of tradition and history on its head and dismantled the place.”
“I guess we’ll find out,” Rhydder said. “That looks like trees and grass, ahead.”
“That would be it,” Adán agreed. “I remember lots of trees.”
Consuelo strode through the gates of the ancient grounds and they hurried to catch up with her. As they passed through the gates themselves, Adán saw that the grounds beneath the trees were covered in tombstones. There was no order or symmetry, no ranking of headstones. The worn and aged stones stuck up from the ground like too many teeth in an overcrowded mouth, some of them green with moss under the dank shade of the trees. There were barely a few inches between the front of one and the back of the other and there was nothing resembling rows.
Consuelo was stepping around and through them. She had not stayed upon the public path.
“That little cottage over there,” Rhydder said, nodding his head toward a small building with white-washed walls and terracotta roof tiles. “That’s where she’s going.”
“Gabriel won’t be there. Neither will the baby. This is just the overture,” Kieren said.
“The softening up?” Rhydder interpreted, undoing his coat so he could reach inside more easily.
Adán fumbled with the new-style fastenings on his cuffs, then opened the cuffs and let the sleeves of his jacket hang loose. It would let the knives slide from the wrist sheaths.
Consuelo reached the door of the little house and halted. She turned to face them, her expression passive.
Adán looked around. The location was surprisingly isolated. On a cold day like today there were few tourists around. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled in a way he had not felt since he had become vampire. “I don’t like this,” he muttered.
“I agree with the gypsy. I don’t like it either,” Rhydder said as they drew closer to Consuelo.
“Romani, damn your tongue,” Adán replied.
“We’re in the game now. We have to play out the hand,” Kieren said. “But stay loose and free.”
“Yes, boss,” Rhydder said dryly.
Consuelo watched them approach. When they were within five meters, she called out. “Your weapons. You will not need them.”
“Then you better start talking fast, lady,” Rhydder growled as they stopped in front of her.
“What my friend means,” Kieren added, “is that you bought us here. If we’re not here to fight, then we’re here to talk. Delaying the matter won’t improve it.”
Rhydder rolled his eyes, forcing Adán to suppress his grin.
Consuelo studied them, then nodded, as if she had reached a secret conclusion. “Wait here,” she told them.
Adán expected her to turn and leave, but instead, she became still, her eye gazing straight ahead. He stared at her slack face, then looked around for the approach of someone else.
Consuelo’s eyes blinked. She looked at each of them, one after another, taking her time. “You, I know,” she said, bringing her gaze back to Kieren. “From Chile. The others, no.”
“Gabriel,” Kieren breathed.
* * * * *
Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2264 A.D.: “He’s there,” Pritti gasped.
Demyan picked up her hand. “Don’t strain yourself,” he urged softly.
“What are they doing?” Ryan asked.
“Killing him, I hope,” Brenden said in an undertone.
Tally’s expression grew alarmed. She sidled close to Rob and he pulled her in closer with his arm, so that she was tucked between him and Christian.
“I don’t have to clear this room, do I? Nayara asked, her voice louder.
Silence answered her. She nodded and turned back to watch Pritti. “Whatever you can tell us,” she encouraged the small woman.
* * * * *
Old Jewish Cemetery, Staré Město (Old Town), Prague, Czech Republic, 2264 A.D.: “How nice. You remember me,” Gabriel said. Consuelo’s voice had grown deeper and rougher and there was a light in her eyes that had not been there a few moments ago. It made her seem over-the-top cheerful and just slightly mad.
Adán shuddered and reached for the hilt of his first knife. His people had always taken care of the dangerously insane with ruthless finality. It had been the only way for them to survive life on the road, or in their secluded communities in towns and cities. His instincts were screaming at him to strike quickly, but he knew he would only remove Gabriel’s mouthpiece, not Gabriel himself. It would invite retribution. Adán already knew how close Deonne had come to death through Gabriel’s orchestrations. Gabriel’s retribution for killing his lieutenant would be swift and deadly, for sure.
He gripped the hilt but kept the knife in his sleeve. For now.
“Get to the point, Gabriel,” Rhydder snarled.
“A bargain,” Gabriel replied.
Rhydder snorted. “You could have called the agency to offer a bargain. Don’t lie.”
“But I could not have shown you this. Reach into the front left-hand breast pocket of my friend whose body I am borrowing.”
Adán stopped Kieren from lifting his hand. “You don’t know what is in there,” he whispered.
“Do not fear,” Gabriel told them. “It is a photograph. That is all.”
“You could have sent that, too,” Rhydder pointed out.
“Your leaders will appreciate my delicacy in not sending this across highly insecure neural nets,” Gabriel replied.
Kieren slid two fingers into the top edge of Consuelo’s pocket and pulled out a photograph, gripped between the tips of his fingers. He flipped the photo over and studied it. Silently, he passed the photo to Rhydder, who frowned as he looked at it. Then Rhydder gave it to Adán.
It was a photo of Cáel Stelios. He was wearing high formal robes and had been caught speaking, his hands flung to either side in emphasis. Stelios, the Greek Assemblyman, Adán recalled. This, then, was probably taken from inside the Worlds Assembly when he had been at the podium…if they even used a podium. There were people on all sides of him, watching him speak. They all wore the same style of formal robing.
“Recordings of any sort are illegal, inside the Assembly hall,” Kieren said. “How did you get this?”
“Does it matter?” Gabriel asked. “I have it. That is all your leaders need to concern themselves with at this time. All your leaders. All three of them.”
“Three?” Kieren asked blankly. “You mean two.”
“I mean what I say. That photo will be of much interest to Deasmhumhain, Stelios and the lovely Nayara.” The dreamy drooling tone sounded odd, coming from C
onsuelo’s vocal chords.
“You might have to explain it to us, then,” Rhydder said. “Because I can’t see what the fuss is about.”
Kieren didn’t say anything, but Adán could tell from his blank expression that he already knew what the explanation would be. He looked vaguely ill.
“The medallion Assemblyman Stelios is wearing, the one he clearly did not intend to be seen wearing in public and certainly not in the Assembly hall…do you see it?”
Adán lifted the photo once more and looked at it, while Rhydder peered over his shoulder. The medallion he was wearing was silver, and sat low on his chest. It looked as though the fronts of the robes and the shirt he wore beneath would normally keep the medallion covered, but the violent out-flinging of his arms had drawn both garments apart, just enough for the medallion to peep through. “It must only have been visible for a second or two,” he murmured. “The odds that someone would take a photo at that very moment…”
Kieren shook his head. “This is an image from footage. It’s just a copy.” He sounded both disgusted and angry. He looked at Consuelo. “Finish this,” he said harshly. “What do you want?”
“What’s the medallion mean?” Adán whispered to Rhydder, who shrugged.
“It’s Nayara’s,” Kieren murmured to both of them. “And it used to be Ryan’s, a very long time ago.”
Rhydder’s brow lifted. “Damn,” he said, his tone admiring, as he took the photo from Adán and looked at it once more. “And this guy, this human, won them both?”
Adán recalled the first time he had seen Stelios…the abrupt change in his face, his posture, his expression and the warmth in his eyes as Nayara had turned to him. It was easy to understand the three of them once he had seen them together. They made perfect sense.
For the space of a heartbeat, his thoughts turned to Deonne and Justin. The urge to go back to them, to touch them both and reassure himself that they were fine, was almost overwhelming. Who else might come after Deonne? Who would be next to consider Justin an enemy?
The need to protect them both strained to escape, like a hot wave of fury. Adán clenched his fist and quelled the sensation with plain willpower. It left him almost breathless and his heart thundering.
Consuelo was studying him, her eyes narrowed. Gabriel was watching him. “Ah, the public relations strumpet. You must be her lover. No, I’m wrong. You’re one of her lovers. How interesting. She is not content with just a single man. I am glad to have you here in my realm of influence.” He frowned and tilted his head. “Santiago,” he said slowly, as if he were piecing together the name. And he might have.
“Get out of my mind, you filthy son of a whore,” Adán breathed. “I’ll not have you sullying my thoughts.”
“And is the lovely Ms. Rinaldi back amongst us at this time?” Gabriel asked.
Invisible cold fingers stroked his spine, chilling his body as he scrambled to find a safe response.
“Speak your proposal, Gabriel,” Kieren growled. “I grow tired of these games.”
“But I’m having so much fun,” Gabriel protested. His gaze slide over to Rhydder. “The outcast dark one. The siren song runs strong in you. Almost as strong as the ancient secrets you keep. Oh, I could have fun with you and your tortured soul.”
“Do me a favor and shoot him,” Rhydder said to Kieren. “Her. Him. Both. Just shut him up, will you?”
Kieren pulled out his gun and levelled it at Consuelo’s face. “Care to give me a reason not to pull the trigger?” he asked evenly.
“A bargain,” Gabriel replied coolly. The equanimity was understandable. He knew that nothing could touch him, wherever he was. The worst they could do would be to remove his microphone by killing Conseulo…and he could always find another puppet. He would also pay them back for her death.
Adán was beginning to understand why the agency people were so riled by Gabriel. He was ruthless and devoid of deeper, meaningful emotions. He was playing with them like he might play with draughts pieces, with as much attachment to them as anyone held for draughts.
He drew in a steadying breath. This human body of his was reacting to every little whipsaw change in emotions. It was tiring, once the exhilaration of being human once more had worn off.
“Name the bargain,” Kieren insisted, not lowering the gun.
“Your half is the reason that bought you here.”
“The babe. Alive and healthy, of course,” Kieren said.
“Yes, the seed of the damned. You can relax, the child lives,” Gabriel added. “Although he does not deserve to breathe, I have preserved his miserable, wailing life.”
Adán let out another breath. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted the child to be alive. It had been pressing against his mind, a dark distressing weight, since he had learned how Gabriel had stolen Jack.
“What do you want in return?” Kieren demanded. The gun hadn’t waivered.
“Assemblyman Stelios directs a large block of votes in the Assembly,” Gabriel said. “If he can use that considerable influence to favor vampires, he can do the same for psi-filers. I get control of his votes for the next year.”
* * * * *
Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2264 A.D.: Pritti made a choking sound and struggled to sit up on the table. Demyan lifted her up and she looked around wildly until she found Nayara.
“Cáel,” she whispered. “They want his power.”
Nayara exchanged glances with Ryan. “Gabriel knows about us.”
Ryan curled his hand into a fist and pressed the fist against the bed sheet by Pritti’s ankle. “He wants the votes in exchange for Jack?” he asked very quietly.
Pritti nodded.
Ryan swallowed.
Deonne slid her hand into Justin’s and looked up at him. “This is bad,” she whispered.
Justin nodded. His face was paler than usual. He watch Pritti with almost manic concentration. So did everyone who was crowded into the tiny laboratory. “It’s very bad,” he confirmed. “They can’t agree to it, which leaves Adán standing there with a pissed off Gabriel.”
“And Jack, too,” Deonne finished, pressing a hand against her knotted and swirling stomach.
Chapter Forty-Five
Old Jewish Cemetery, Staré Město (Old Town), Prague, Czech Republic, 2264 A.D.: “Why the hell do you care what the Assembly does?” Rhydder demanded. “They’ve treated your kind like shit ever since the bloody thing was invented.”
“That is why,” Adán told him. “He wants rights for psi-filers, just like Ryan ripped vampire rights from them, two hundred years ago.”
Kieren hefted the gun to bring Gabriel’s attention back to him. Consuela’s gaze slid sideways to look at him. “I can feel your tame psi-file dog prying around the edges of my mind. Get her to ask her masters what they think of my proposal. Better still, ask the baby’s sick, aberrant parents what they think.”
Kieren shook his head. “The answer is no.”
Rhydder grinned.
Consuela wasn’t blinking. It made her stare seem all the more weird and predatory. Adán stepped up closer to the back of Keiren’s shoulder. “Shoot her,” he urge him.
“Refusing my offer is not wise,” Gabriel said. “Think of the baby. Think of Jack.”
“I am, you fucking monster,” Adán told him. “The answer is still no, because a future with someone like you having any sort of say over how humanity gets to live is abhorrent. I’m breaking out into a cold sweat just thinking about it, so no, I’m not going to run it past my people, and I’m not going to give you what you want.”
Consuela’s face began to writhe, and odd sounds came from her mouth.
“Jesus, Mary, Joseph,” Rhydder breathed.
For the first time, Keiren’s gun lowered. He shifted back on his heels.
“He’s fighting her,” he breathed.
“Who? Consuela? Gabriel is fighting with her?” Rhydder asked.
“He wants cont
rol. Full control.”
An ugly, long, low animal sound came from her mouth and her fingers curled in on themselves, like she was trying to form fists.
“Santa Maria, kill her now!” Adán cried.
“I will eat...your hearts...with my...bare fingers!” Gabriel panted. Consuela threw up her hands and Adán dove for the ground.
Consuela froze, her hands outstretched, her face contorted by Gabriel’s rage.
Adán straightened up. “What the hell?”
“Pritti?” Kieren asked aloud. “Are you shielding us?”
Yes. The word breathed softly inside Adán’s mind, like he had recalled a memory of a woman’s voice speaking – a beautiful, mature, sexy, worldly lover, who knew everything about men, found all men delightful and was in love with life. His neck prickled hard again.
I’m holding him. Hurry, Kieren. I don’t know how long I can hold him for. He’s very strong. I’ve never felt such strength before!
Kieren stepped forward and around Consuela’s outstretched arms. He grabbed her head in both hands, his fingers digging into her cheek, then leaned forward to rest his head against the side of hers. “Help me, Pritti,” he gasped. “I don’t want him to escape while I look.”
I am here. Hurry.
Kieren closed his eyes. Rhydder picked up the gun he had dropped and pushed it inside his jacket. “Get ready,” he murmured to Adán.
I have it. Do you?
“Yes,” Kieren said, stepping away from the frozen woman. He sounded like he was exhausted. He walked over to Rhydder. “Let me tell you where,” he breathed, his chest working hard. He gripped Rhydder’s face with his hands, more gently than he had held Consuelo, and touched his forehead to Rhydder’s.
Rhydder closed his eyes. “I see him,” he said.
Kieren stepped back. His shoulders slumped. “Go,” he told Rhydder.
Rhydder nodded. He held his arm out from his side. “Adán, come here. We’re jumping.”
“You? You’re...you’re not a traveler,” Adán protested.
“And Kieren is just a security guard. The agency has a habit of asking more of you than you know you’ve got.” Rhydder took a giant stride toward Adán, threw his arm around his waist, then leapt up into the air, taking Adán with him.
Romani Armada (Beloved Bloody Time) Page 44
