Jabril

by D. B. Reynolds

  He gave her a full smile of genuine delight. “My associate, Asim,” he said, gesturing. “I believe you spoke with him on the phone."

  Cyn looked. Asim was altogether unremarkable, tall and skinny, with a sunken chest, dark hair worn a little too long, and the sallow skin of someone whose swarthy complexion no longer saw the sun. He gave her body a sweeping look from narrow, brown eyes, not even pretending courtesy, his gaze finally coming to rest on her face. Lovely man. Cyn was so very glad she'd come all the way to Texas to work for these guys.

  Jabril stood and took the single step down off the dais, which left him standing too close to Cyn. She held her place, just barely. He was shorter than she, especially with her high-heeled boots, but that did nothing to mitigate the sheer force of his personality. She should have been prepared for it, having dealt with Raphael. Jabril Karim was a Vampire Lord. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of vampires, each powerful in his or her own right, owed their very lives to this man. He was dangerous and deadly, and Cyn would do well to remember that if she hoped to get back to California with her body and mind intact.

  "Perhaps we should take our discussion into my office,” Jabril said, his gaze never having left Cynthia's face.

  She inclined her head in agreement and he turned immediately. Asim ignored her to trail after his master and the half-naked bodyguard, but Cyn was so distracted by the dance of Jabril's progress across the room that she forgot to follow. The entire room sprang into motion at once, with every one of Jabril's vampires swaying into his path and away, balancing their desire to be acknowledged against the fear of impeding his movement. Asim turned abruptly to spear a sharp look in her direction, indicating with an imperious jerk of his head that she should come along. Cyn bit back a laugh, enjoying the irritation on his face as she strolled slowly toward him.

  As she neared the door, she passed the young woman, the single oddity in this room full of men. This close, the girl didn't look much over twenty—no matter that her youthful body was hidden beneath those bulky clothes. Of course, it was hard to tell with vampires, but something about this one said “young” to Cynthia. Human years young, and female. Definitely out of place here.

  "Mirabelle.” Jabril Karim's voice broke into Cyn's thoughts. The girl jumped, her eyes going wide with fear. “Come,” he ordered.

  Cyn frowned as the girl followed automatically, leaning forward like a dog on a leash. A dog who was afraid of being beaten if she disobeyed.

  Jabril led them all into a small office. Asim entered last, closing the door on the eunuch bodyguard who remained outside in the great room, presumably guarding his master's privacy. The inside of the office was filled with tidy and somewhat effeminate furniture—a lovely Chippendale desk that looked almost too fragile to hold the weight of the ornate lamp on its corner, a few glassed-in bookshelves, and two brocade upholstered chairs with spindly legs that sat before the desk. A beautiful, and no doubt priceless, rug covered most of the floor, its colors vibrant in spite of their subdued shades of maroon and blue. Jabril circled the desk and sat, indicating with a graceful hand that Cyn should take one of the two chairs. Asim didn't sit, but stood behind the desk next to his master.

  Cyn glanced at the girl, Mirabelle, expecting her to take the other chair, but she remained standing in the back of the room, huddled close to a second set of doors as though ready to bolt at the slightest opportunity.

  "I trust your flight was uneventful?” Jabril Karim said to Cyn. He had a melodic voice, measured and even. She didn't know why it surprised her; he wasn't a bad looking man, his features stamped with the harsh lines of his desert ancestors, with lips as full as a young woman's and eyes that were a tad too prominent. But Cyn realized in that moment that she didn't like this vampire lord very much and wondered what had turned her against him. There was the faux throne room, of course, but she found that mostly amusing and not really much of a surprise. He was probably more than a few hundred years old and from a time when princes had real power. And though he might be insufferably arrogant, the truth was that as a vampire lord his power was also very real, and so a certain amount of arrogance was almost expected.

  No, she decided, it was the girl that had made her take an instant dislike to Jabril Karim. The young woman was treated like an ill-favored pet and made to dress as if her femininity was something shameful to be hidden. Cyn didn't care how old the vampire lord was or where he came from. That kid was young and scared, and those big, blue eyes had been born in America, or Cyn would eat her boots.

  She realized Jabril was waiting for a response and leaned forward slightly, crossing her legs in a deliberately seductive move. “The flight was what one expects these days,” she dismissed. “You mentioned a matter of some delicacy, my lord?” Jabril's eyes flicked from her crossed legs to her face, where he held her gaze for a heartbeat before saying coolly, “Indeed. A very troubling matter, but one that requires a certain ... discretion, I'm afraid. A young girl in my care has gone missing—"

  "A girl?” Cyn's surprise was evident. A missing girl was the last thing she would have expected from this assignment.

  Jabril's cool cracked a little at the interruption, but he continued smoothly. “Elizabeth Hawthorn. Her parents were dear friends of mine, and when they died I thought the least I could do was care for their children in familiar surroundings. It's so important for children to have some ... constancy in their lives, wouldn't you say? I was pleased to find the courts agreed with me."

  Cyn privately found it appalling that any judge would turn a child over to this bloodsucker and wondered what the going price was these days for a child's life. “Might I ask how old the missing girl is?"

  "Seventeen,” Jabril answered with an obviously calculated sigh. “And troublesome as all children are at that age, I'm afraid—the small rebellions of childhood."

  Good God! A seventeen year old girl living with this bunch. No wonder she ran away. “How long has she been missing?"

  "A week, at least. You understand, Ms. Leighton, it has been difficult for her, living here.” He gestured around him with another deep sigh. “We are Vampire. She, of course, is not, being too young yet to make such a commitment, although I have hopes she will choose to join us."

  He stood then and walked around the desk. Cyn rose automatically, stepping back to avoid touching him, but it was almost as if he pursued her intentionally, coming close enough to run his fingers down her arm to trail over the skin of her hand.

  There was an odd feeling as he moved away and his fingers left hers. A spider web kind of feeling, as though he'd left something clinging to her skin. She fought an instinctive shudder, but he seemed not to notice, his attention already fixed on the silent young woman in the back of the room. She cringed as the vampire lord wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was a practiced and yet awkward gesture, made more so by the difference in their heights—something Cyn hadn't noticed before now because the girl's submissive posture made her seem so much smaller than she really was. Cyn watched uncomfortably as Jabril all but dragged the terrified girl forward.

  "Mirabelle chose to stay with us, didn't you, my treasure?” The threat was so thinly veiled Cyn couldn't imagine he thought anyone was fooled by the fond words. The girl gave a jerky nod, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

  "Ms. Leighton can't hear you if you don't speak, darling girl."

  "Yes!” she squeaked quickly. “I mean, yes, my lord. I wanted to stay."

  He beamed like a proud parent. “My darling Mirabelle is shy, Ms. Leighton. She is our youngest and I'm afraid we indulge her. Children are so rare among us."

  And thank the gods for that. “How long have you been living here, Mirabelle?” The girl's head came up, her eyes meeting Cyn's directly for the first time. In that brief moment, Cyn saw the rage burning behind the fear, quickly shuttered to show nothing at all.

  "I was born here, ma'am,” Mirabelle said softly. “This was my home before—” She swallowed hard. “After the accident, my master was
kind enough to move his household here so Elizabeth and I—"

  "Nonsense,” Jabril interrupted. “How could I do anything less, child? Such a terrible loss for one so young. But we do what we can—"

  "Wait,” Cyn interrupted. “Are you saying Mirabelle is the sister of the missing girl?” Which would mean she was not much more than seventeen herself.

  Jabril was looking at her in surprise. “Yes, of course. Didn't I mention that?” He looked at Asim for clarification. “How odd. I suppose I think of Mirabelle as part of my own family now.” He stroked the girl's covered hair and Cyn fought the urge to slap his hands away.

  "Did your sister—” She started to ask Mirabelle directly whether she knew her sister's whereabouts, but stopped mid-sentence at the flash of panic in the girl's eyes. “Did your sister take anything with her?” she said instead. “Anything to indicate where she may have gone?” Mirabelle seemed relieved and Cyn felt her unease grow.

  "I don't know. Elizabeth doesn't live in this house, and we—"

  "Too dangerous,” Jabril interjected quickly. “My men are well-trained and superbly disciplined, but they are still, after all, only human ... in many ways,” he amended with a little smirk at his own cleverness. “Elizabeth is a lovely girl on the brink of womanhood. I felt it better for her to stay in the servants’ quarters with the housekeeper."

  "May I speak with the housekeeper?"

  Jabril beamed at her. “You'll take the job then? Wonderful. Oh.” He paused, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him. It was such an obvious artifice that Cyn knew what his next words would be before he even spoke them. “Raphael won't mind you working for me, will he? We vampires can be so ... possessive. I wouldn't want to tread on any toes."

  Cyn regarded him steadily before replying. “The only toes in my life are my own, my lord. Lord Raphael employed me for a short time for a specific task which I completed to his satisfaction. I'm sure he'll tell you the same."

  "Ah, yes, we heard there was some ugly business out there. Something to do with Alexandra, wasn't it? Not that I can imagine anyone foolish enough to try to challenge Raphael, but still..."

  Cyn laughed. “My lord, the key to success in my business is client confidentiality. I would no more share the details of Raphael's business with you, than I would your business with him. I'm sure you prefer it that way."

  "Of course,” he snapped. He drew a calming breath through his nose. “You can start with the housekeeper,” he said brusquely. “I've already spoken to her, of course. To little avail, I'm afraid, but perhaps you'll get something useful out of her.” Gone was the charming vampire. He was clearly finished with Cyn and eager to get back to his own evening. “Mirabelle, why don't you take Ms. Leighton out to the back house? I'm afraid this has caught me at a bad time and I have much to do. Asim?"

  Cyn watched, bemused, as Jabril and his henchman marched out of the room without so much as a “see you later.” Apparently, since his rather crude attempt to get gossip about Raphael had failed, he had nothing further to say to her. Her mouth quirked up in a half smile and she turned to Mirabelle to say something unflattering, but the words froze on her tongue. The girl was holding a hand close to her chest, palm out in warning. “This way, Ms. Leighton,” she said loudly, then gestured for Cyn to precede her through the outer door. Cyn shook her head in disgust. Why had she ever thought taking this job would be a good thing? Why not a vacation in Hawaii, Cyn? Vampires in Texas? What the hell were you thinking?

  Chapter Five

  As soon as they were outside, Mirabelle leaned her head back and sucked in the cold night air. Cyn watched her curiously. “Don't get out much?” she guessed.

  Mirabelle jumped. “Forgive me,” she said quickly. “The servants’ quarters are this way.” She took off, shoulders hunched forward.

  Cyn caught up to her and spoke quietly as they walked. “I see things, Mirabelle; I watch and make connections. It's why I'm good at my job. I know, for example, that Jabril doesn't really like women. Oh, he's not gay, never that. But he doesn't think women are worth much, does he?"

  She glanced around quickly. “Let me show you something.” She opened her leather coat enough to reveal the Glock 17 nestled in its shoulder holster before covering it again. “They didn't even ask me if I was armed, much less pat me down. It never occurred to them a woman would be carrying, I imagine.

  "I figure the only reason I'm here is because I did some work for Lord Raphael, out in California, and Jabril is hoping to piss Raphael off by calling me here to Texas. I wouldn't be surprised if he's actually hired someone else, someone with a penis, to do the real work.” She chuckled and glanced over. Mirabelle was silent, but she did seem to be listening. “It doesn't bother me, particularly. I get paid either way, and I've never been to Texas before.

  "Anyway, given Jabril's low opinion of women, I have to wonder what you're doing here. And since this estate is owned by something called the Hawthorn Trust, which has public assets in excess of five hundred million, I figure it's not you he wants—no offense—but your money. How am I doing so far?

  "Hey,” she said softly, seeing tears fill the girl's eyes. “I'm sorry. Sometimes I'm not fit for polite society."

  "No.” Mirabelle rubbed her cheeks roughly, like a child. “No, you're right about everything. I'm so embarrassed,” she said miserably. “What must you think of me?"

  "Don't you worry about it, honey. I know vampires and what they're capable of. So tell me, does old Jabril in there ever let you out of his sight?"

  Mirabelle shook her head. “This is the first time I've been outside alone in ... God, it must be six months. Not since before summer when one of the maids went into labor unexpectedly. She should never have been in the house at that time of night. I don't know—” She shivered. “You should have seen the look on Asim's face when he realized what was happening.” A sad, bitter smile crossed her face. “You wouldn't want to see what almost happened after that. I didn't even wait for permission, I ran as fast as I could to get some help. Some human help. Someone to get that woman and her baby out of this place before—” She shuddered.

  "Okay, maybe there are some things I don't know about vampires,” Cyn said with a grimace. “So, tell me Mirabelle, how did you get to be a vampire? I can't believe you actually chose to spend your nights with that bunch."

  "No, I—” Mirabelle's head whipped around seconds before Cyn heard a door close followed by footsteps.

  "Mirabelle?” A middle-aged woman appeared around the corner of the two-story building they were approaching. “What are you doing out here?” She gave Cyn a suspicious look. “And who's this?"

  "Lord Jabril Karim sent me,” Mirabelle said stiffly. “This is Cynthia Leighton. She's a private investigator. She's going to find Liz."

  The woman gave Cyn a skeptical look, peering over pale-framed glasses attached to a chain around her neck. She had graying brown hair pulled back into a bun so tight she'd never need a face lift, and her gray skirt and jacket looked more like a uniform than a suit. She took a step closer and held out a hand. “Mrs. Elaine Peach. I'm Lord Jabril's chief housekeeper. Mr. Asim said you'd be coming by tonight. I'll tell you the same thing I told him. I haven't seen the girl in a week. She doesn't exactly check in with me."

  "What made you realize she was missing?” Cyn asked.

  Mrs. Peach studied her, then gave a little sniff and headed back the way she'd come, with a little wave for them to follow. They walked around the corner and entered the servants’ house through a glass-paned door that led into a large, open kitchen. Ignoring the two men having coffee at the cafeteria-style table, the housekeeper kept walking until she reached an unadorned entryway. A small desk stood near what must have been the front door, with a simple bouquet of flowers in a cut crystal vase. The housekeeper finally stopped there and turned back to Cyn. “I don't actually have that much to do with Elizabeth. She has a tutor who oversees her schooling. But the woman was away for a week, a personal vacation, some family thin
g. I assumed the girl was...” She shrugged. “In her room, I suppose."

  "What about her Child Protective Services caseworker? Does she meet her somewhere?"

  "No, that woman comes here once a month.” Mrs. Peach's tone left no doubt about how she viewed those regular visits. “Pokes into everything, as if we'd mistreat the child."

  "Do you have any idea where Elizabeth might have gone? And why? Did she mention anything that was troubling her?"

  "Elizabeth barely spoke to me. She wasn't rude; she simply wasn't interested. You'd probably have better luck with the caseworker. I think they actually got on rather well, considering."

  "Considering?"

  "Well, they aren't exactly on a par socially, are they? I mean, with her share of the trust, Elizabeth's already worth more than that woman will see in a hundred lifetimes. And she's—” Mrs. Peach stopped abruptly and gave a nervous, little cough. “Well. I can give you her name and number, if you'd like."

  "I'd appreciate that, thank you. And the tutor, if possible."

  "Of course. I'll see to it. Now, if there's nothing else?” She gave Cyn an absent look, her mind obviously having already moved on to her next task.

  "Could I see her room, please?"

  "Certainly.” Mrs. Peach turned to Mirabelle, clearly thought better of it, and called into an adjoining room. “Kelli!"

  Cyn noticed Mirabelle's flush of embarrassment, although she was pretty sure the housekeeper didn't. Mrs. Peach might be a great housekeeper, but her people skills made Cyn look like Miss Congeniality.

  A slight girl in a pink uniform dress came into view, her eyes wide with curiosity. Thick brown hair was pulled back into a long braid to reveal multiple piercings in each of her ears, in addition to the small loop above one eyebrow.

  "Kelli, show Ms. Leighton here where Elizabeth's room is and don't dawdle. You need to finish that silver tonight or there'll be no day off for you tomorrow."