It took me a moment to make sense of his words.
Brick? At his subtle nod, I frowned. You’re kidding, right?
I’m not, actually. Returning my look with a shrug, he gazed past me, through the same tinted window I’d been looking through. He’s an evil fuck, but he generally keeps his word. He has up until now, at least… with me, at least. Honestly, I think that’s what angered him so much about New York. I think that bothered him as much as what I did to his throat.
He glanced at me again.
He felt we had a sort of “gentleman’s agreement.” In his mind, I broke that. In his mind, I betrayed him. He felt we had a “good rapport” up until then. He even told me that.
Grimacing, he looked back out the window, his jaw clenched.
…Fucking sociopaths. All the same. Always convinced they’re the ones being wronged. A lot of them have fucking “codes” like this. Your uncle’s a bit like that, too. I suspect he’s a lot more adept at lying, though.
The car turned into a dark lane, following the other three town cars down a narrow alley that led off the main road. The walls on each side were so close, I wouldn’t have even pegged it as a street.
It wasn’t until we’d been driving a few minutes more that I realized it was a driveway, if a long one.
The narrow lane eventually opened up to a massive front yard and circular drive with a limestone fountain at its center. A female figure stood in a nearly straight pose on top of the fountain, an urn balanced on one shoulder and an arm folded over her head. A wide pool lit with green and pale blue lights surrounded the statue’s perch. Something about the perfect lines struck me as almost art nouveau. It definitely looked French.
The white, French colonial-style house behind it was like something from a fairytale.
Really, it was more a mansion than a house.
Two stories of what had to be twenty-plus-foot ceilings, with wide balconies on both floors decorated with intricate wrought-iron were lit by more subtle spotlights. Those lights, unlike the fountain, were white and soft red. The house stood at the edge of massive gardens that appeared to wrap around the back of the main structure on both sides, in addition to following the circular drive to the edge of the narrow lane.
White, ionic pillars decorated the front, and I saw sheer white curtains inside the tall windows, which all had wooden shutters that were open to show the light from inside. At least two more fountains stood in the smaller garden directly in front of the house, and a series of perfect hedges decorated the walkway up to the double front doors.
I glanced at Black, raising an eyebrow.
Are we going to be safe from Charles here? I asked him. This isn’t exactly inconspicuous. Charles must know about it. If he doesn’t already, he will soon.
Black gave me a grim look, then a short nod.
We won’t stay long.
For a lot of reasons, I muttered in his mind.
He’d already reached for the handle of the town car.
Before he could open it, however, a figure appeared wearing white gloves and opened the door from the outside.
On my other side, I saw another form appear to open the passenger-side door, right as Cowboy had been reaching for the handle on that side, likely mirroring Black.
In the end, he and Black exited the vehicle at nearly the same instant, and bare seconds after the car rolled to a stop. I was close behind Black, even as Nick and Angel crawled quickly out of the car after Cowboy. Only Manny followed on our side, exchanging grim looks with Black once he’d regained his feet.
“This strike you as a particularly wise idea, brother?” the seventy-something Native American asked Black under his breath.
I let out a low snort, unable to help it.
Black gave us both looks, then shrugged. “No. But all my other ideas were worse.”
That time, it was Manny who grunted.
We followed our escort, a female vampire with long, dark red hair up towards the front doors of the house. Town cars in front of ours and behind ours emptied out as we made our way up the steps. No one headed for the house until they saw Black, Manny and I going that way, and I felt reluctance on them, even then.
I’m not sure if it made me feel better or worse that they followed us anyway.
I don’t think Cowboy took his hand off the handle of his holstered Colt Python once, at any point when I looked at him.
The doors opened in front of us, and more vampires stood there, bowing politely as we entered the high-ceilinged foyer. I looked up at the massive staircase up to the next floor, and the crystal chandelier hanging between it and the wall.
Everything I saw looked expensive, even the wallpaper.
I saw French Colonial-style end tables that looked like antiques, a whole suit of armor in an alcove under the stairs, tapestries that also looked French, rugs that probably cost more than my car, a gold-framed mirror that was probably made of real gold.
Not all of it appeared to be comprised of antiques. I also saw a fair-few modern paintings that looked like originals hanging on those walls, along with statues done in a post-modern, abstract style that weirdly worked with the older pieces.
“Please follow us.”
I glanced to our guide, to find the red-haired vampire smirking at me faintly.
I didn’t bother to react to her expression, at least not on the outside. Clearly, though, it was meant to rattle me.
“Our king is waiting for you,” she said, her voice unerringly polite. “There should be plenty of room for all of you.”
I nodded, not answering.
Brick was already waiting for us inside.
Of course he was. Knowing Brick, he was enjoying this “vampire king host” schtick a little too much.
Black coughed lightly. I glanced at him in time to see him suppress a smile.
The red-haired vampire brought us into a high-ceilinged sitting room that stretched down one whole side of the house; it was so large, I wondered if it had once been a ballroom.
A grand piano stood in the farthest corner by twenty-foot windows with dark green velvet drapes––drapes that reminded me vaguely of Scarlett O’Hara’s homemade dress from Gone with the Wind. Antique couches and chairs stood by antique wooden gaming tables, and in front of a spotless white marble fireplace with an elaborate mantle decorated with an art deco mirror.
A fire burned in the grate, despite the coolness of the air inside the house.
A large round settee, or borne, I think they are called, sat in the center of the room, a dense palm growing out of the round center between the circular span of seats. A stone female figure carrying an urn on its shoulder, mirroring the fountain outside, stood by the fireplace. More tall palms stood in several corners of the room, along with a number of large ficus trees and ferns.
An antique crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling on a long iron chain, at least twice as large as the one in the foyer.
The upholstery of the borne and the sofas and chairs was a deep burgundy, a color that worked strangely well with the dark green drapes and all the plants. The furniture’s frames all appeared to be of the same dark, aged wood. The ceiling had elaborate crown moulding painted off-white against the rose-colored walls and wallpaper.
Again, all of it looked extremely expensive.
On the plus side, the room looked more than big enough for all of us, just like the red-headed vampire said.
Brick smiled faintly at Black as we walked in. He spared a shorter nod for me, but a more genuine-looking smile than the one he aimed at Black.
I found myself looking at the vampire through the lens Black provided in the car.
As I did, I found myself thinking Black was right.
It made sense to me in a twisted way, that Brick might take it personally that Black had “betrayed” him. The thought didn’t make the vampire remotely more sympathetic, not even a little bit, not in any way, but it did make me more leery of leaving Black alone with him, or even letting Black
get too close to him physically.
At my thought, Black reached out and took my hand.
I saw Brick’s eyes follow that subtly, as well.
“Can we speak alone?” The vampire’s crystal eyes flickered back to Black’s face.
Those same eyes then traversed the cavernous room, taking in the humans and seers who were slowly filling up the half of it nearest to the front doors. The vampire king returned his gaze to Black’s face a second later.
Studying Black’s eyes, now in a near-curiosity, he made a vague gesture with one hand.
“…Or with you and whatever passes for your leadership team these days? Assuming you have anything remotely approximating anything so organized and non-chaotic?”
Black frowned.
I saw him look over the humans and seers Brick had just assessed.
He raised his voice slightly, addressing our group.
“Jem,” he said. “Kiko. Yarli. Cowboy. Nick. Angel.” He looked at Manny. “You too, Mañuelito.” He glanced at Lawless and Lex, hesitating, then looked back at Manny. “I think that’s enough. You can fill them in when we get back.”
The old man nodded, glancing at me, his eyebrow quirked.
He didn’t speak, but Black caught his glance, and frowned.
“Miri is with me.”
He said it as if that were a given.
Really, he said it almost like a threat.
Manny didn’t comment, but I saw a humorless smile touch his lips, right before he nodded. Whatever I’d heard in Black’s voice just then, clearly Manny heard it, too.
We followed Brick towards the opposite end of the room from where we entered, silently shadowed by the seers and humans Black had just listed off.
The vampire led us around a corner built into the ballroom itself, and towards a forest-like cluster of trees covering most of that end of the room. Beyond those trees, a paneled doorway lived in the wall, nearly invisible behind all the greenery until we were almost on top of it. Taking us through a smaller sitting room on the other side, Brick hung a left and led us into a room with three walls made almost entirely of glass.
That room was filled with even more plants, in addition to two working fountains.
Colored lights illuminated the water and the jungle-like fronds.
Walking us over to a cream and sky blue set of sofas, he sat down gracefully, and motioned for me and Black to sit beside him.
He ignored the rest of those who’d followed us into the room almost entirely.
“A drink?” he asked Black politely, glancing at me to include me in the invitation. “Can I get you or your friends anything?”
“No.” Black glanced around at the others, who were taking up residence on the opposite couch, as well as some of the surrounding sunroom chairs. “We’re fine.”
Brick followed his gaze, then let out a pale laugh.
“I won’t poison you or your friends, Quentin.”
“Let’s just keep this short and sweet, shall we?” Black growled. “You brought us here for a reason? What is it?”
His eyes again cased the room, and I followed his gaze that time, noting the blond, red-eyed vampire lounging in a cream-colored chair near a lit fountain by the sunroom’s biggest garden. His crimson eyes fixed on Black without expression.
I noted again that I’d never seen Dorian’s irises that clear, glass-like color that vampire eyes turned when they weren’t either feeding or ready to attack.
Glancing around, I saw three more vampires standing near the sunroom’s door.
They’d come in so quietly, I hadn’t heard them, or felt them––much less seen them.
The realization brought my nerves back, along with a liquid shot of adrenaline.
Brick smiled when Black’s eyes returned to his.
“What’s my reason?” The vampire king smiled, glancing at the blond vampire. “You already know my reason, Quentin. I am prepared to take you up on your very generous offer of a truce. I am ready to address this mutual threat to our people together.”
There was a silence after he spoke.
I felt my heart jackknife in my chest as the full ramifications of his words sank in.
“We are more than willing to share intel––” Black began warily.
“Intel?” Brick laughed. “Friend, it will take more than ‘intel’ to stop Charles. Surely you can’t be that naïve.” His angular face grew serious. “We’ll have to hit the Pentagon. We have to go to where Charles is. You need me for that.”
He glanced disdainfully around at our group on the sofa and surrounding chairs.
“Or were you planning on doing that with nothing but humans carrying crude weapons, a few seers who clearly haven’t been here long enough to find their asses with a flashlight and a mirror, and a handful of teenagers and old men?”
He gave Jem a more appraising look, followed by a stare at Yarli.
“Even if these new… acquisitions of yours aren’t entirely useless, you still don’t have enough to offer a real threat to Charles. How many is it total that you have fighting with you? Six? Eight, with you and your lovely wife? And two of them look like children, too.”
Brick leaned back in the couch, folding one leg elegantly over the other. Resting his arm on the antique couch’s back, he shook his head bemusedly.
“Get serious, Quentin. Your uncle has dozens of your people. I don’t care how good you are. You can’t dream of dealing with this problem without me.”
Lifting an eyebrow, he added, his voice clearly reluctant,
“And I am forced to admit I could use your help, as well… clearly. As much as it pains me to say it, you may just have saved my life back there.”
Pausing, he gave me another brief glance.
“So? Shall we negotiate terms? Or did you want to play games with me on this a while longer? If so, let me know. I might need to call down to the kitchen to bring me something harder to drink, as well as something more… satisfying… to eat.”
Just then, a man appeared at the door of the sunroom.
He didn’t wait, but walked right in, holding a silver tray and wearing an all-white uniform. He looked human to me, and I couldn’t help frowning when I saw that he was black.
He walked directly up to our couch and the glass table beside it.
Bending down, he used white-gloved hands to set down three tile coasters in front of me, Black and Brick. On the coaster in front of Brick, he carefully placed what looked like a mint julep. In front of me, he placed a blended margarita. In front of Black, he put a rocks glass with what looked like some kind of whisky.
“I took a guess with you, dear Miriam,” Brick said, watching me eye the drinks. He gave Quentin an indulgent smile. “Luckily, I didn’t have to do the same with your dear husband.”
My jaw hardened as his words sank in.
I knew exactly where he was going with that jab.
I forced myself to swallow it, leaning back on the couch and crossing my own legs. Watching me, Brick smiled wider, a more open amusement visible in his eyes.
He didn’t speak though, merely retrieved his drink from the tile coaster.
A second waiter came in and set down plates. A four-tiered tray held an assortment of small cakes. Next to that he placed butter, honey and silverware that looked heavy enough to be made of solid silver.
Black ignored the whole show, watching Brick alone.
He didn’t even look at his drink.
“I couldn’t possibly trust you in the field,” he said finally, his voice hard. “Not with me. Not with my wife. Not with any of my people, frankly. Any kind of joint operation on the ground is out of the question.”
“Then we have both already lost,” Brick said simply.
At Black’s silence, he let out a melodious but disbelieving laugh.
“The blood of the source, Quentin. Just what did you envision, coming to me?” Glancing at the blond vampire, then back at Black, he quirked an eyebrow. “Are you afraid I will set my b
eloved Dorian on you? On your wife?”
He gave a disparaging look towards the other couch, where Nick, Angel, Cowboy, Kiko and Manny sat. I noticed Jem and Yarli remained on their feet, standing behind the humans in a way that struck me as protective.
It made me like both of them even more.
“…You think I would set my people on your pets?” Brick continued, drawing my eyes back to his face. “If so, I’m amazed you left so many of them alone, without you to supervise them personally, in the other room.”
“So am I,” Black muttered, half under his breath.
For the first time, he glanced down at the glass of whisky.
“It’s perfectly safe, Quentin,” Brick said. “You know it is. You’re being ridiculous.”
“We can collaborate without doing exercises on the ground,” Black said, his voice harder.
“You will not penetrate the Pentagon on your own,” Brick said, his voice calm. “You need us. And as I have already said… we need you.” Exhaling at Black’s wary look, he added, “You think the potential outing and destruction of my entire race isn’t sufficiently motivating for me to set aside our little personal difficulties for a time?”
“I don’t know,” Black growled. “Is it?”
Brick chose not to answer that, taking a long drink off the mint julep as he sank back into his corner of the couch.
“Since you are seemingly so unwilling to get into the fine details of this arrangement from your side of things,” he said, his voice still light. “I will begin, shall I?”
He waited a beat.
When Black didn’t answer, he nodded, once, seemingly taking that as tacit agreement, or permission, at least.
“First,” Brick began, resting his arm on the back of the couch again, and nearer to Black’s head than I liked. “First, Quentin, I will need you to let me drink from you, for reasons of sharing intelligence.”
At what must have been a look or a sound from me, the vampire’s gaze hardened, shifting from Black’s face to mine.
“…That is entirely non-negotiable,” he added, cold. “You must understand my need to protect myself, as well. Particularly given our last little interaction together, Quentin.”
In Black We Trust Page 23
