The Scarlet Deep
Page 53
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Brigid—”
“Fight for it.” Brigid’s expression was fierce. “Even if it means you’re fighting him. If Carwyn broke my trust, I’d break his head! We’d fight. We’d yell. I’d burn things up. Mostly by accident. And then he’d apologize and I’d apologize and we’d make it work again. Love is messy, but it’s worth it. It’s worth fighting for. Don’t you believe that?”
“Of course I do.”
“Really?” Brigid’s look said she doubted her.
“I…” She couldn’t finish a thought.
Anne counseled other immortals to allow emotion in their lives. Admonished them to find love and trust. But when it was her own heart at stake?
So much harder.
“Drink.” Brigid held out her arm. “Maybe then things will be clearer.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I HAVE MY SUSPICIONS ABOUT Leonor and the Russians,” Carwyn said. “She and Oleg have a history.”
Murphy almost snapped the cue stick in two, he was gripping it so tightly. “Oleg has a history with the majority of the female vampire lords in Europe. The man has a type and it usually involves breasts, political savvy, and massive ego. It’s not the Russians.”
“How do you know?” Carwyn asked. “I’d never thought about it before, but when Jetta brought it up, it made sense. And we all know they’re cagey bastards.”
Murphy didn’t know. It was instinct. Or—as Tom more correctly surmised—a meeting of a multitude of facts in his mind. It was the same way he knew an opponent might come from the left instead of the right. It wasn’t their feet, but the lean of their hips and the angle of their eyes. The flinch in a shoulder. A minute lift of elbow or a clenched hand. Murphy couldn’t quantify it. Boxing or politics. He made decisions based on a hundred tiny pieces of knowledge that coalesced into assurance.
“The Russians are not behind this,” he said again. “I think it’s Athens.”
Carwyn frowned. “The Greeks? They might be involved peripherally, but they wouldn’t get their hands dirty. Impossible.”
Murphy missed potting a red ball and stepped away from the table, letting out a frustrated breath. “Because we’re all so familiar with the impossible, yes? Carwyn, we’re mythical creatures who feed on blood and live for hundreds or thousands of years. Do you really believe Athens masterminding this plot is too far-fetched?”
“They’re lazy.”
“They invented democracy. Give them a little credit for original thought.”
“They’re also cash poor. Their court is bloated.”
“But they have the connections.” He tapped his stick on the ground, grateful for the distraction of politics. “There’s something. There’s a thread I’m not seeing. I need to think about it more. Elixir is touching water in the Black Sea. With this shipment of infected humans, I’m almost positive that’s the source. But the Greeks wouldn’t be shipping from the Black Sea.”
“Because…” Carwyn pointed his cue stick at Murphy. “It’s not the Greeks,”
He potted three balls in a row before he miscalculated a cushion shot.
“You’re much better at this game than Terry is.”
“I’ve been playing longer.”
“It is the Greeks. I just can’t see the connection. Yet. Who runs the Russian ports in the Black Sea?”
Carwyn shrugged. “It will be one of Oleg’s children. He only trusts his children to run things.”
“It’s a good thing he has so many of them.”
“Unusual for a fire vampire.”
“But smart for anyone who wants to hold Russia.” Murphy frowned. “What element was Oleg sired from?”
Fire vampires could be sired from any element, and their offspring would be sired back to it. Murphy wondered what particular animal Oleg’s children were.
“There are contradictory rumors, but I know for a fact that Oleg’s sire was an earth vampire. And a very nasty individual.”
“Really?” That didn’t fit with what Murphy had imagined. Earth vampires were solid leaders, but not as politically motivated. Or as scheming. “No, the Greeks wouldn’t work with an earth vampire.”
Carwyn laughed. “I do enjoy how the facts don’t seem to matter when they don’t fit your narrative.”
“Because I know I’m right.” Murphy stepped back to the snooker table. “If something doesn’t fit, then there’s something I’m not seeing. Yet.”
“No one ever accused you of lacking confidence.”
He took four shots, racking up points while Carwyn watched silently.
“You’ve distracted me admirably, Father. My thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Carwyn leaned against the paneled wall. “In case you were wondering, she is worth it.”
“I know she is.”
“Anne’s loyalty is absolute. That’s why she’s so cautious giving it.”
“I know that as well.” He took another drink. “We met when I was quite young. I was… careless with her. I will not be again.”
Carwyn nodded and began putting the room to rights. Dawn wasn’t far off. “Give her the night. Let her get her equilibrium back. She’s not been thinking clearly, I imagine.”
“But does that work for or against me?”
“Fight for it.” Brigid’s expression was fierce. “Even if it means you’re fighting him. If Carwyn broke my trust, I’d break his head! We’d fight. We’d yell. I’d burn things up. Mostly by accident. And then he’d apologize and I’d apologize and we’d make it work again. Love is messy, but it’s worth it. It’s worth fighting for. Don’t you believe that?”
“Of course I do.”
“Really?” Brigid’s look said she doubted her.
“I…” She couldn’t finish a thought.
Anne counseled other immortals to allow emotion in their lives. Admonished them to find love and trust. But when it was her own heart at stake?
So much harder.
“Drink.” Brigid held out her arm. “Maybe then things will be clearer.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I HAVE MY SUSPICIONS ABOUT Leonor and the Russians,” Carwyn said. “She and Oleg have a history.”
Murphy almost snapped the cue stick in two, he was gripping it so tightly. “Oleg has a history with the majority of the female vampire lords in Europe. The man has a type and it usually involves breasts, political savvy, and massive ego. It’s not the Russians.”
“How do you know?” Carwyn asked. “I’d never thought about it before, but when Jetta brought it up, it made sense. And we all know they’re cagey bastards.”
Murphy didn’t know. It was instinct. Or—as Tom more correctly surmised—a meeting of a multitude of facts in his mind. It was the same way he knew an opponent might come from the left instead of the right. It wasn’t their feet, but the lean of their hips and the angle of their eyes. The flinch in a shoulder. A minute lift of elbow or a clenched hand. Murphy couldn’t quantify it. Boxing or politics. He made decisions based on a hundred tiny pieces of knowledge that coalesced into assurance.
“The Russians are not behind this,” he said again. “I think it’s Athens.”
Carwyn frowned. “The Greeks? They might be involved peripherally, but they wouldn’t get their hands dirty. Impossible.”
Murphy missed potting a red ball and stepped away from the table, letting out a frustrated breath. “Because we’re all so familiar with the impossible, yes? Carwyn, we’re mythical creatures who feed on blood and live for hundreds or thousands of years. Do you really believe Athens masterminding this plot is too far-fetched?”
“They’re lazy.”
“They invented democracy. Give them a little credit for original thought.”
“They’re also cash poor. Their court is bloated.”
“But they have the connections.” He tapped his stick on the ground, grateful for the distraction of politics. “There’s something. There’s a thread I’m not seeing. I need to think about it more. Elixir is touching water in the Black Sea. With this shipment of infected humans, I’m almost positive that’s the source. But the Greeks wouldn’t be shipping from the Black Sea.”
“Because…” Carwyn pointed his cue stick at Murphy. “It’s not the Greeks,”
He potted three balls in a row before he miscalculated a cushion shot.
“You’re much better at this game than Terry is.”
“I’ve been playing longer.”
“It is the Greeks. I just can’t see the connection. Yet. Who runs the Russian ports in the Black Sea?”
Carwyn shrugged. “It will be one of Oleg’s children. He only trusts his children to run things.”
“It’s a good thing he has so many of them.”
“Unusual for a fire vampire.”
“But smart for anyone who wants to hold Russia.” Murphy frowned. “What element was Oleg sired from?”
Fire vampires could be sired from any element, and their offspring would be sired back to it. Murphy wondered what particular animal Oleg’s children were.
“There are contradictory rumors, but I know for a fact that Oleg’s sire was an earth vampire. And a very nasty individual.”
“Really?” That didn’t fit with what Murphy had imagined. Earth vampires were solid leaders, but not as politically motivated. Or as scheming. “No, the Greeks wouldn’t work with an earth vampire.”
Carwyn laughed. “I do enjoy how the facts don’t seem to matter when they don’t fit your narrative.”
“Because I know I’m right.” Murphy stepped back to the snooker table. “If something doesn’t fit, then there’s something I’m not seeing. Yet.”
“No one ever accused you of lacking confidence.”
He took four shots, racking up points while Carwyn watched silently.
“You’ve distracted me admirably, Father. My thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Carwyn leaned against the paneled wall. “In case you were wondering, she is worth it.”
“I know she is.”
“Anne’s loyalty is absolute. That’s why she’s so cautious giving it.”
“I know that as well.” He took another drink. “We met when I was quite young. I was… careless with her. I will not be again.”
Carwyn nodded and began putting the room to rights. Dawn wasn’t far off. “Give her the night. Let her get her equilibrium back. She’s not been thinking clearly, I imagine.”
“But does that work for or against me?”