A Hidden Fire
Page 47
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Stephen De Novo, he decided, must have taken something quite valuable from the vampire.
“Gio? So what’s the next step? I mean, you can’t just go take the document.” A sudden thought must have occurred to her. “Wait—you could, couldn’t you? Shit, am I an accomplice now?” Her eyes were wide and she had come to a standstill in the small courtyard by the garage.
He chuckled and pulled her arm to get her moving again. “I’m not a thief, Beatrice. I would scarcely need to be, would I?” He cocked an eyebrow at her playfully.
She gasped. “Gio, you cannot use your mind voodoo to make people give you manuscripts!”
“Why not?” he asked innocently.
“Because it’s wrong! It’s completely unethical. Because—”
“I don’t use amnis to get documents, Beatrice.”
“Oh,” she said, slightly deflated. “Well…good.”
He couldn’t erase the smile on his face as he opened the door to the Mustang for her. Suddenly feeling playful, he leaned down as she got in the car and whispered in her ear, “Most of the time, anyway.”
He shut the door before she could start speaking again, still laughing as he walked around the car. She was glaring at him when he got in and started it.
“What?”
She scowled. “I don’t know whether to believe you or not.”
“That’s probably a wise choice.”
“You’re so reassuring.”
He smirked. “I’m not a thief. I’ll let the client know I’ve found what he’s looking for and ask him how much he is willing to offer. Then, I will approach the owner of the documents and negotiate a price.”
They drove through the dark streets toward a small pub tucked into a quiet corner of Rice Village.
“What if they don’t want to sell? And where are we going?”
“We’re going to a pub. And I rarely fail to procure an item.”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye before she looked back at the road. “What if it’s not for sale?”
His lip curled almost instinctively. “Don’t be naive. For the right price, everything is for sale.”
The car was silent for a few minutes, and Giovanni almost wished that she would turn on the radio for him. He finally heard her take a deep breath.
“That’s kind of depressing,” she murmured.
He shrugged as he pulled into the small parking lot behind the building. “That’s human nature. Much changes in the world, but not that.”
“No?”
He parked the car and looked at her in the shadows of the street lights. “Five hundred years says no.”
Giovanni hated the sadness he saw in her eyes, but knew that life would teach her the same lesson, whether he placated her in that moment or not.
“So it is important to learn that which helps us to cope with the cruel vagaries of life and the persistent ebb and rise of the human situation.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow as he reached across to unclip her seatbelt. He passed deliberately close to her and felt her warm breath catch. Leaning back, he smiled, just a little.
“Oh yeah?” she asked, clearing her throat. “What’s that?”
He smiled when he heard her heartbeat pick up.
“Whiskey.”
They walked into the dark pub, and Giovanni nodded at the pale man sitting in the corner of the room on a low couch. The vampire nodded back in the shadows and, to Giovanni’s chagrin, gestured toward the chairs across from him. He put a hand on the small of Beatrice’s back and led her toward the dark corner, though he stood casually instead of taking a seat.
“Giovanni,” the man said in greeting. “To what do I owe the pleasure tonight?”
Though the vampire spoke to Giovanni in English, Gavin Wallace’s strong brogue must have been difficult to understand, because he felt Beatrice lean forward slightly.
He could tell she was taking in every detail of the man’s appearance, from his sandy-brown hair and deceptively human brown eyes, to the stylishly rumpled jacket which complimented his easy good looks. Gavin must have been turned in his early thirties, but his wardrobe reflected his more youthful clientele. At least, Giovanni thought, the human clientele.
“Just out with a friend, Gavin. How are the college kids?” He hoped the slight pressure he put on Beatrice’s back would let her know to let him do the talking. As always, her perception paid off and she remained silent and watchful at his side.
“Very thirsty, thank you. You have a lovely companion tonight,” the blond vampire smiled, looking Beatrice over carefully. “Did you want a chaser? That redhead you seemed to like last month is in the back room, I believe.”
He shrugged. “Not necessary, but thank you.” Giovanni couldn’t help but notice the stiffness in Beatrice’s shoulders that accompanied Gavin’s frank perusal of the girl’s neck. He suddenly realized he had never been specific about how and where he fed with her, and he wondered what questions he would face once they were alone. He deliberately put an arm around her shoulders and drew her slightly closer, making sure the other vampire caught the possessive gleam in his eye.
“Gio? So what’s the next step? I mean, you can’t just go take the document.” A sudden thought must have occurred to her. “Wait—you could, couldn’t you? Shit, am I an accomplice now?” Her eyes were wide and she had come to a standstill in the small courtyard by the garage.
He chuckled and pulled her arm to get her moving again. “I’m not a thief, Beatrice. I would scarcely need to be, would I?” He cocked an eyebrow at her playfully.
She gasped. “Gio, you cannot use your mind voodoo to make people give you manuscripts!”
“Why not?” he asked innocently.
“Because it’s wrong! It’s completely unethical. Because—”
“I don’t use amnis to get documents, Beatrice.”
“Oh,” she said, slightly deflated. “Well…good.”
He couldn’t erase the smile on his face as he opened the door to the Mustang for her. Suddenly feeling playful, he leaned down as she got in the car and whispered in her ear, “Most of the time, anyway.”
He shut the door before she could start speaking again, still laughing as he walked around the car. She was glaring at him when he got in and started it.
“What?”
She scowled. “I don’t know whether to believe you or not.”
“That’s probably a wise choice.”
“You’re so reassuring.”
He smirked. “I’m not a thief. I’ll let the client know I’ve found what he’s looking for and ask him how much he is willing to offer. Then, I will approach the owner of the documents and negotiate a price.”
They drove through the dark streets toward a small pub tucked into a quiet corner of Rice Village.
“What if they don’t want to sell? And where are we going?”
“We’re going to a pub. And I rarely fail to procure an item.”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye before she looked back at the road. “What if it’s not for sale?”
His lip curled almost instinctively. “Don’t be naive. For the right price, everything is for sale.”
The car was silent for a few minutes, and Giovanni almost wished that she would turn on the radio for him. He finally heard her take a deep breath.
“That’s kind of depressing,” she murmured.
He shrugged as he pulled into the small parking lot behind the building. “That’s human nature. Much changes in the world, but not that.”
“No?”
He parked the car and looked at her in the shadows of the street lights. “Five hundred years says no.”
Giovanni hated the sadness he saw in her eyes, but knew that life would teach her the same lesson, whether he placated her in that moment or not.
“So it is important to learn that which helps us to cope with the cruel vagaries of life and the persistent ebb and rise of the human situation.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow as he reached across to unclip her seatbelt. He passed deliberately close to her and felt her warm breath catch. Leaning back, he smiled, just a little.
“Oh yeah?” she asked, clearing her throat. “What’s that?”
He smiled when he heard her heartbeat pick up.
“Whiskey.”
They walked into the dark pub, and Giovanni nodded at the pale man sitting in the corner of the room on a low couch. The vampire nodded back in the shadows and, to Giovanni’s chagrin, gestured toward the chairs across from him. He put a hand on the small of Beatrice’s back and led her toward the dark corner, though he stood casually instead of taking a seat.
“Giovanni,” the man said in greeting. “To what do I owe the pleasure tonight?”
Though the vampire spoke to Giovanni in English, Gavin Wallace’s strong brogue must have been difficult to understand, because he felt Beatrice lean forward slightly.
He could tell she was taking in every detail of the man’s appearance, from his sandy-brown hair and deceptively human brown eyes, to the stylishly rumpled jacket which complimented his easy good looks. Gavin must have been turned in his early thirties, but his wardrobe reflected his more youthful clientele. At least, Giovanni thought, the human clientele.
“Just out with a friend, Gavin. How are the college kids?” He hoped the slight pressure he put on Beatrice’s back would let her know to let him do the talking. As always, her perception paid off and she remained silent and watchful at his side.
“Very thirsty, thank you. You have a lovely companion tonight,” the blond vampire smiled, looking Beatrice over carefully. “Did you want a chaser? That redhead you seemed to like last month is in the back room, I believe.”
He shrugged. “Not necessary, but thank you.” Giovanni couldn’t help but notice the stiffness in Beatrice’s shoulders that accompanied Gavin’s frank perusal of the girl’s neck. He suddenly realized he had never been specific about how and where he fed with her, and he wondered what questions he would face once they were alone. He deliberately put an arm around her shoulders and drew her slightly closer, making sure the other vampire caught the possessive gleam in his eye.
