A Drop of Red (39 page)

She hedged her gaze back to them, almost apologizing before her words collapsed to nothing.

The woman he was with . . . She had a face so colorful, so striking, so
changed
that Della didn’t know what to say.

“Della,” the woman repeated, and her normally haggard voice even sounded polished, as if years had been washed off like a crust of dirt over something buried and forgotten until now.

Della couldn’t stop looking at her, mainly because she’d never seen the woman in this guise—only as a cat and as the much less stunning authority figure the girls knew from school.

As the surprise wore off, Della took in the nuances: The glistening brown hair let out of its bun to tumble down her back. The flushed skin showcasing high, imperious cheekbones and scarlet lips. Her rose silk gown only added to the handsome, regal effect, its collar high, its skirt a rustling, full bloom.

So breathtaking, Della thought, that she understood the reason Wolfie had been kissing her.

But when she noticed how the woman’s mouth was turned downward in obvious displeasure at being caught, Della’s pulse suspended. If she had felt like a meal at any time during one of Violet’s devastating glares, this put those to shame.

She felt as if she was about to be sliced apart and then bitten to pieces.

The woman stood away from Wolfie, who groped to keep ahold of her slim waist.

Knowing flattery would only aid her, Della said, “You . . . You look so lovely. Beyond lovely.”

And . . . phew.

“Well.” The woman held a hand to a pink cheek, pleased. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me shifting to a form I don’t often use. It takes too much energy to seem this young.” She smiled at Wolfie. “Energy I should be using to stave off any weakness we vampires can experience during a long day.”

Mihas rose up, still staring at his companion. “The cost is always worth the results.”

They exchanged long glances and, somehow, Della thought the comment contained more than she was meant to know.

She might have thought further on it if tonight’s disaster wasn’t making her so anxious.

When Wolfie brought himself to acknowledge Della again, he frowned, his teeth receding from their aroused state. “What has happened to you? Your . . . skin?”

Della touched her bomb-burned, root-scratched face, which had already begun healing on its own.

The woman followed up with another question. “Where are the others, Della?”

Fear resurfaced, trembles overtaking her belly. She had to tell them. No choice.

She opened her mind like the pages of a book she’d hidden under a pillow, and they expertly thumbed through every detail: the intruders, Violet’s idea to start their nightcrawl by capturing the little man, the resulting disaster.

They even saw what Della had done to Violet afterward.

When she finished, Della couldn’t even swallow, could hardly breathe. Time to pay . . .

Wolfie lifted his thick brows and connected gazes with the woman once more, clearly communicating with her. Then he glanced at Della, and smiled with what she thought to be a touch of sadness.

“You really are a fighter,” he said. “Impressive judgment. A fine addition to the main Underground. Once you mature—”

“She
has
matured,” the woman said sharply.

Wolfie sighed, and Della wished she knew the reason for it. Had she already begun to resemble the less pure girls in the main Underground? Had she already lost Wolfie’s interest?

Yet from the way the woman was assessing her with that feline gaze, Della thought perhaps this was more about Wolfie liking her too much.

A chill overtook her.

“A wee person shooting bullets,” the woman said, as if musing aloud about the intruders. “And a female who uses her mind to such an extent. Fascinating traits for the servants of a vampire such as this ‘Frank.’ ”

Wolfie folded his hands behind his back, a gesture that wasn’t so much relaxed as concerned. “None of our girls perished in the altercation.”

“They didn’t precisely come out smelling like English roses, either,” the woman said. “I’ve told you—your training has always been too lax. Intruders appear, and the students think it’s time to flit about. Certainly, you’ve taught the girls hunger, Mihas, and that is vital in creating a fearsome soldier. Yet while flippancy suits you, it will not aid
them
when the dragon summons us.”

“There’s still time to polish their skills.”

“Make it the present time, if you please.”

Della was near to bursting. “And Frank the vampire? He wanted to know about Kate Lansing. You saw that he went into my mind to find information about her.”

“A preternatural detective, perhaps?” Wolfie asked. “In this day, everyone is an entrepreneur.”

The woman tilted her head. “He didn’t ask about an Underground?”

“No,” Della said. “At least, not before I silenced him.”

She laughed, as if admiring Della, and the sound raised her hackles.

“From what you showed us, Della,” she said, “‘Frank’ wasn’t a blood brother. Yet I’m rather curious about this motley group. We’ve encountered many a vampire before who wasn’t affiliated with an Underground, and they’ve never proven a problem. I’m always interested in the study of them.”

“Claudia,” Wolfie asked, “you don’t find it interesting that—”

“Yes, yes, that the chief
custode
has gone missing, as well,” she said. “We’ve experienced stranger coincidences in the past. Besides, we’ve been informed that the
custode
has already been replaced with another, and the unit is surely investigating even as we speak. They’ll take care of the matter if these intruders should be a threat.”

Wolfie shot a glance at Della, and the woman laughed again.

“Did you not reveal to me,” she said, “that your
darling
here had the tenacity to poke into your mind and she’s heard the word ‘
custode
’ before? Of course, you didn’t punish her, Mihas, so it would seem to be of little importance.”

“I was careless,” Wolfie said. “So kill me.”

He grinned at her before she smiled indulgently—embarrassingly so, to Della—and addressed her charge again.

“You’re going to be taught about
custode
s soon enough, but I see no reason to put off the lesson now, especially since you met them in the Underground when you visited. Remember those red-eyed beings who greeted you in the dark?”

Della wished not to recall them at all.

“These days,” the woman continued, “you might say they are ‘contractors’ because they work on their own and leave us to our business, which is the way Mihas and I have liked it. They haven’t failed us yet.”

“They do always manage to cover our tracks,” Wolfie said.

“
Your
tracks.”

Della tried to tell herself that the Underground had faced situations even more serious than this before, and they had flourished. Why else would they be taking this news so well?

Wolfie came to Della, ruffled her hair. “But my darlings should never have to worry. So don’t.”

Even as he said it, his attention strayed back to the woman in her silken gown, her glowing beauty. But she was watching Della with that monstrous and destructive gaze again, plucking her apart with only a look.

Was she . . . jealous? Why, when
she
had been the one kissing Wolfie only a short time ago?

“Mihas,” she said, still watching Della. “Why don’t I take the girls to a neutral, safe place away from here while the
custode
s investigate? Meanwhile, you can travel the tunnels and emerge from an exit far away from Highgate. We might as well be cautious until the
custode
s inform us otherwise.”

“Tunnels,” he said, as if disgusted. And why wouldn’t he be when he so loved to run free?

“Until then,” the woman added, “you should stay in one of your city flats. Don’t pay visits to the Underground yet. I’ll keep watch for those intruders, although I suspect the
custode
s will be taking them in hand soon enough.”

Wolfie looked upon her as if she were the most brilliant woman in mind and body—his queen.

Something also changed in the woman’s eyes—heating like a steady candle’s flame in a dark room.

“Della,” she said, her voice lowering to an intimate hush, “off with you now. Wait for me out of the room.”

Blood rushed to Della’s face as she ducked toward the beaded exit. They were going to kiss again. . . .

“Yes, Mrs. Jones,” she said, obeying before her housematron decided to punish her after all.

TWENTY - THREE

THE RETURN

THE
team had gathered in Frank’s room at headquarters while an ominous silence ticked down to the moment when Breisi might return with news of Jonah’s whereabouts.

At Frank’s weapons table, Dawn and Kiko were laying out their best-loved tools so Natalia could select which ones she preferred to carry after she was ready to stand with the rest of the team outside these walls. As for Frank—he’d been coerced into sitting on his bed, even though he was basically healed.

No one talked at all, but it wasn’t because they were worried about Jonah. Well, they
were
, but the awkward lack of conversation had more to do with the fact that Eva was also present, dabbing at the fused wounds on her ex-husband’s neck with healing gel as he kept trying to tell her that he was okay, that the wounds hadn’t gone all that deep.

As Eva ignored his protests, Dawn tried not to be bothered by her mother’s gentleness with him. Since Breisi wasn’t around, Eva was able to play nurse, so there weren’t really consequences to finally being able to touch Frank after all these months of keeping a near distance from him. Watching it made Dawn so sad for her.

She thumped a holy water bracelet to the table with more force than she needed to use.

Kalin,
she thought. The Friend had set up this situation with Eva and Frank, and Dawn had no doubt that it was out of pure vindictive pettiness.

The spirit had been charged with watching over headquarters tonight, and after hearing about Frank’s injuries, Kalin had shot right over to Eva’s and brought her back here, where they’d been waiting for Frank when the team had returned. Of course, Kalin had explained that she’d thought Frank might need some human attention while the rest of them were busy battening down the hatches, checking the motion-sensored outside UV lights and arming the automated silver-arrow mechanisms by the door.

But Dawn knew better.

Kiko had his back to Eva and Frank as he set a holy water vial next to his dart gun. His movements were tight, not only because he was anxious about Jonah, but he was also ticked that he hadn’t been able to hit any of the Queenshill girls with his bullets or darts. Yet that only made him want to go out again, to prove himself ten times over.

“All right, all right,” Frank said to Eva from across the room. “I’ve got enough gel on now.”

“Just a little more . . .” Eva said.

Dawn and Kiko connected gazes, on the same mental page.

“What a troublemaker,” he said softly enough to keep Eva from hearing.

Natalia was scanning the dart gun. “Who’s making trouble? Not Eva.”

“No, not Eva,” Kiko said. “Kalin. She found a roundabout way to irk Dawn, even during what has to be the most inappropriate time ever, with Jonah running around. See, Kalin knows that Breisi, who’s always defending Dawn, won’t be too stoked about Eva playing nicey-nice with Frank like this. I don’t know why Costin keeps her around, especially when she’s got a thing for Jonah, who’s a bad frakkin’ apple, himself.”

At the bed, Dawn saw that Frank had heard every word, and he gave her a warning look, as if Eva might hear and get her feelings hurt. Or that Kalin, who was roaming the house, might take offense.

Natalia poked at the dart gun, then took her finger away, as if the thing might bite. “Speaking of Jonah—”

“Breisi and the others who joined her will get him,” Dawn said, trying to persuade herself more than anything as she carefully set a mini flamethrower next to a full-sized one. “And maybe she’ll even talk some sense into him.”

“I don’t understand,” Natalia said. “Why hasn’t Breisi been able to catch him yet?”

“Because,” Kiko answered, “the Friends are quick, but they’re no match for any vamps. Also, I’m pretty sure they’re all worn out from everything else they went through tonight.”

Dawn nodded. The team had discovered that the spirits had done even more than wrestling devil animals and shepherding Dawn, Kiko, and Frank around; the Friends had diverted curious humans from the area until the team had departed the campus and the police had arrived. They’d also kept tabs on the Queenshill vampires, reporting that the girls had engaged in a scuffle and then retreated to the dorms. Apparently, Della had really injured Violet, who was being healed by Polly and Noreen while Della had disappeared into the housematron’s room, shutting Friend Greta outside before she could follow her in. And it didn’t help that the vents were closed in Mrs. Jones’s room.

Their surveillance had been cut, yet this wasn’t necessarily bad news. Not if this room led to an Underground entrance, as they suspected.

Dawn’s hopes picked up speed, pumping through her, but she was brought back to reality right quick. Searching for a vamp community would be useless until Jonah returned with Costin, their ultimate Underground weapon.

Good God. Was that all she could say about Costin? That he was an ultimate weapon? Why was that the first thing she always thought to call him?

Natalia broke in. “What if Breisi never finds Jonah?”

Dawn wouldn’t even consider it. “She will.”

“But what if—”

“No what-ifs.”

Natalia didn’t press on. Thank God, because Dawn wasn’t going to mull over what she might have to do if Jonah decided that he wanted to keep Costin suppressed.