A Fall of Silver (45 page)

“I’m going,”
she said.

“You’re not completely healed—”

“This body’s as good as it gets.”

“For God’s sake—”

“No. For
my
sake, please. I need to do this. I need to see if I
can
do it. Please.”

He didn’t want to allow
her to accompany him. She could see it in the darkness in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders, but he nodded. Despite his agreement, trusting soul that she was, she didn’t let him out of her sight for the next few hours. She was convinced he’d leave her behind, given the opportunity.

Wh
en they got into the car an hour later, he sat behind the steering wheel and examined her for a minute. “There’ll be mayhem enough without any human contributions. Just…be there.”

“And back you up?
I can do that,” she agreed quickly. Her pulse raced as she gazed into his eyes. Squeezing her icy hands between her crossed arms and chest, she glanced past his shoulder. Wind tossed dead leaves across the deserted street and shook the car with icy bursts. “I should bring my whips, though. What if the talks break down?”

“No
‘what ifs.’” He looped his heavy arm across her shoulders and gave her a squeeze before he started the car. “No weapons.”

“I don
’t know. That doesn’t sound smart.”

“
We’re just talking. You’ll be asleep in five minutes. Trust me.”

“Yeah
, right.” She settled into her seat. When she caught her hand creeping up to touch the throbbing scar at the base of her skull, she discretely pulled the pill bottle out of her purse. Choking down a tablet dry left her mouth gritty, but it was better than allowing the incipient ache to take hold.

One thing she had learned was that pain made her temper flare. Tonight, it would be better if she were mellow.
Pharmaceutical warmth was just starting to spread through her veins when Kethan helped her out of the car. One hand on her elbow, he deftly steered her through the hallway and into the conference room, the same room they’d used before.

Everyone glanced at them as they entered
. Most of the gazes were tinged an inhuman red and set under frowning brows. Even Father Donatello appeared ill-at-ease. He slumped slightly in his chair, the lines on his thin face deep and the skin as thin as parchment.

“Good evening
.” Kethan motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite him.

She smiled and complied, feeling benevolent
and warm, almost hot. Her skin prickled.

The table was large but round, making it difficult for the participants to take opposite sides
. Despite that disadvantage, the undead managed to keep their two groups separated by strategic placement of the three humans between them.

Quicksilver studied her parents from under her lashes.
They looked cool and oblivious to her interest, although tension crackled in quick pulses of electricity around the pair. Her mother’s fine hair, so much like Quicksilver’s, seemed to have a life of its own. Strands floated around her head, moving restlessly as warm air from the overhead vents brushed her shoulders.

Her father
clasped his long-fingered hands in front of him. Then he stared down at them, his heavy-lidded eyes nearly shut, as if asleep. Despite his bored, sleepy appearance, the muscles in his neck and shoulders appeared rigid, betraying his tension.

Martyn Sutton sat across the table from them, the pudgy fingers of his right hand flicking open and shut his
ever-present knife. The affectation had become a nervous habit, and he seemed incapable of controlling it.

“We all know why we’
re here,” Kethan announced, his voice warm and easy. “We’re going to discuss the terms of an arrangement to allow all of us to coexist.”

“
Perhaps. If the terms meet our approval,” her father stated in a bored voice. “The vampires here have no leader. They’ll merge with our clan. Naturally, I must assume the role of master. There can be no other choice.”

“I
be master here!” Sutton’s eyes turned solid red, with tiny pinpoints of black for pupils. He leaned forward and focused on her father. “I’ve four hundred years to your few.”

“To
our
few?” her mother replied, covering her husband’s clasped hands with her own. “It’s never been a matter of years that makes a master vampire. It’s power, sheer power.”

Sutton
surged to his feet. He pressed his knuckles against the table and thrust his jaw toward the pair. “I’ve power enough.”

“Sit down,” Kethan said sharply.
“Please. Mr. Bankes—”

“Hector,” her father said.
“Hector and Sylvia. Please.” His gracious tone underlined the crudeness of Sutton’s reaction, making his hostility seem childish in comparison to Hector’s generous rationality.

However,
Quicksilver felt the malevolence burning beneath her parents’ glossy, attractive exteriors. She fought back a sudden, desperate spurt of anger. Her eyes shifted to stare at the door. She longed to escape. Even Martyn Sutton, coarse as he was, seemed preferable to the calculating, dispassionate evil of her mother and father.

Had they ever been human, loving parents?

Kethan nodded. “Hector.” Then he glanced at Sutton.

“Mr. Sutton,” Sutton
snarled before gesturing to the two vampires sitting next to him. “Mr. Newton and Mr. Topan.”

“As you wish,” Kethan said, his voice
still mild. If he were disappointed that Sutton preferred more formal names, he didn’t show it.

“Only blood relatives use
Christian names. You’re no blood of ours.” Sutton’s gaze traveled around the room, daring the others to protest.

“Thank goodness,” Hector murmured.

Sutton’s face darkened ominously, but he kept his seat.

“Why don’t we all use our formal
names, then?” Kethan suggested. “That might be easiest. It certainly underscores the importance of this meeting.”

“Agreed.
” Sutton chipped the word off with the impact of an axe felling a tree.

Hector
waved a languid hand as if brushing away an annoying fly. “Fine. Now may we continue?”

“Of course.” Kethan paused
, collecting his thoughts. “You’re all aware of our purpose. The Lost Colonists have held the East Coast territory for over four hundred years—"

“Long enough,”
her father interrupted, “and their master is dead.”

Sutton’s eyes flared
. “What do you know of matters here? Go back to your heathen master the Cloud Serpent, Teotihuacan,” he spat the name like a curse.

“There are other territories—
” Kethan interrupted, directing his comment toward her parents.

Sylvia cut him off
. In a voice sharp with acid, she said, “There are no other territories. The Red Dragon controls the west, Teotihuacan the south.
No one
controls the east.”

“Lying whore!”
Sutton’s fisted hands slammed against the table.

Slapping
an open hand on the polished, wooden surface, Kethan stood. “Quiet! We will
not
tolerate interruptions. Each side will have the opportunity to express their view.”

“Perhaps
we should each talk about what we hope to gain? What we must have to reach an agreement?” Father Donatello suggested, his voice so tired it was almost a whisper, yet his soft words immediately caught everyone’s attention.

“
Mr. Sutton,” Kethan said, sitting down. “What do you require to guarantee peace?”

“They be the ones who pushed their way in
.” He pointed to Hector. “The Appalachians to the Atlantic ‘tis our land. We need nothing more.”

“You mean you can
’t
keep
anything more.” Sylvia’s words snaked through the room. “You can’t keep what you’ve got, now.”

“Oh, mother, shut
up
,” Quicksilver said without thinking.

Her parents stared at her, blue eyes and gray, as if they c
ouldn’t believe she had the temerity to hold any opinion other than their own. Her father’s gray eyes hardened. A flame of red stirred in the depths as his hand dropped beneath the edge of the table.

She
felt a twist of fury tighten in her stomach, but remembering Kethan’s request, she smiled blandly and fastened her gaze on him.

Let her father stare.
Let him press all the buttons he wanted.

Nonetheless, t
he thought ate away at her. She shifted in her seat, her back stiff. She felt years older than Martyn Sutton. Studying her parent’s cold faces, she realized one thing: they’d never been her family.

H
er grandmother had raised her, loved her, and worried over her when she was sick. She’d been her family. These two were strangers and not very nice ones at that, and they no longer had the power to rouse the ferocious beast from the depths of her mind. They couldn’t control her. She couldn’t feel the anger clawing away inside her anymore. Maybe the beast was gone for good, or maybe it was just the drugs, but for the first time, she felt free.

All
her parents could do now was to make her feel sad and tired. She rubbed her forehead with cool fingertips. And maybe give her a raging headache.

“The Red Dragon’s territory ends at the Rockies,” Kethan said.
“Traditionally, the prairie states are neutral territory for those without a clan, a buffer zone between the Red Dragon and Sutton’s clan.”

“No one can claim the pra
irie,” Hector stated, “or they’ll have enemies on three sides. They’ll be crushed in the middle. The neutral territory
must
remain.”

Kethan nodded.
“And you don’t wish to return to Teotihuacan?”

“We wo
n’t return,” Sylvia said. “That’s impossible.”

Sutton
smiled, showing his fangs. Even Quicksilver recognized the fear behind her parents’ bravura. After her own experiences with Carlos and Carol, members of the Toltec clan, she could almost sympathize with them. Almost.

“You freed Teotihuacan
from his tomb. You be his children, his blood, now.” Sutton sat back, enjoying their discomfort. “Go back to your master. I’m sure he’ll take you back.”

“This is our home—
”

“Your home was in New Mexico,” Quicksilver said.
Her stomach cramped at her boldness, but she wasn’t a child anymore, when talking back was punishable. She straightened. “It’s probably still available, too, if you pay the back taxes.”

Her father’s arm twitched, the muscles bunching
as his hand clenched something beneath the table. His face turned the color of ash as his eyes bored into hers.

She smiled
.

“Mr. Sutton,” Kethan said.
“May we consider their concerns? The Bankes feel they’re caught in the middle—”

“That
were too bad.” He flicked his knife open and shut, emphasizing each word with a metallic click. “Mayhap the Red Dragon‘ll take pity on them, though.”

I
dentical blank expressions on her father’s and mother’s faces told Quicksilver more about their reaction than any sharp retort. A chill spiraled through her. She fought back the urge to run from the room or cower in the corner, sure of punishment.

“
You
’re the weaker leader. We are strong, so strong that even some of Teotihuacan’s clan accepted us as their leader. Our daughter knows, she killed one of the elder ones. So you
will
accept our rule! Or die!” Sylvia demanded, obviously covering her fear of the Red Dragon with white-faced rage.

“The d
evil take you!” Sutton lunged out of his chair and sprawled over the table, trying to catch her wrist.

T
he two vampires flanking him circled the table so quickly they converged on Sylvia before she could stand.

“Stop!” Kethan bellowed
as he raced to drag Thomas Topan away from Sylvia.

She lashed back at the three of them
with sharp-clawed hands, baring her teeth, her eyes glowing red. Instead of backing his wife, Hector rose and stared at Quicksilver.

God help me
, I’m dead! I’ve got nothing! Nothing to defend myself!
Kethan had made her leave her whips at home. Hands fluttering over the tabletop, she pushed away the pad of paper.
Useless
. Her twitching fingers grabbed the pencil.

This couldn’t be happening
. She wouldn’t let it happen.

She nearly dropped the slender yellow pencil
when her father lunged at her. A black box clattered to the floor. The heel of his boot crushed it as he circled the table.

“Come here.
” He reached for her.