Bloody Acquisitions (Fred Book 3) (29 page)

“There might be one person who can fill you in, but you won’t like it.” Krystal muttered the words slowly, like she was pulling them out of her mouth by sheer force of will. “Someone who was around when the treaties were created, and got a sense of every clan’s leader at the time. Someone who keeps an ear to the ground for schemes and rumors, and isn’t beholden to any sort of confidentiality agreement. If he’s willing, he could probably give you at least a basic understanding of most vampire clans.”

Dense as I could sometimes be in regards to all things parahuman, the dots of this suggestion were large enough that even I could connect them. So far as I was aware, I only knew one person who was alive when the treaties were signed, which is to say, when America itself was founded. And he certainly would have been a part of the process, given the title he still held. Plus, since he was watching over a therian child, he would assuredly keep his ears perked for any sudden ambition or regime changes, lest they find their way to Winslow, Colorado.

“I have to go talk to Gideon,” I said, trying to think of another option and failing miserably.

“Told you, you wouldn’t like it.”

2.

To say that Gideon and I had a complicated relationship would probably imply a familiarity that wasn’t actually there. The first time we met, I’d fallen under the sway of his draconic aura, as all vampires did, and become a terrified, catatonic mess on the floor who’d had to be physically hauled out. The second time, I’d been kidnapped along with Sally Alderson, and he’d given me a single drop of his blood so I could withstand the aura and get her to safety. Our third meeting was the strangest, though, in which I’d slipped into a magical cage surrounding him and become a vessel for his magic so he could break free, all in order to stop the dragon who’d taken his place. That last one had actually been the most awkward of our encounters, and not just because it left me with the silver immunity as a side effect.

No, what had made that experience so strange was that, in conducting Gideon’s power, I’d gotten a sense of just how strong he really was. If the draconic aura had conveyed how scared I actually should have been in our first meeting, I probably would have never recovered and instead just spent my undead life as a weeping mess on the floor. Knowing that power like Gideon’s even existed terrified me in a way that went beyond fear of death. It was the first time that I’d understood just how great the divide between myself and the King of the West truly was. Powerful as vampires might be, we were still just augmented humans. Gideon was a living force of nature.

Some part of me suspected he knew what I’d seen, which was why Gideon had been absent every time I visited Richards in the months that followed. Perhaps it was out of deference to the fact that he didn’t want me to give in to fear, or maybe he just didn’t feel like dealing with me clumsily trying to kiss up lest he smite me with a thought. Whatever the reason, when I dialed Richard that afternoon and asked for a meeting with Gideon, I fully expected to be rebuffed. Even if he wasn’t avoiding me, Gideon was still the King of the West; he had every right to tell me his time was worth more than my petty requests.

Which made it all the more surprising when Richard told me that Gideon would see me at ten, after Sally went to bed. I should have been relieved—this meant my plan still had a bit of traction—and a small part of me was. It was just dwarfed by the far vaster side that was terrified at the realization I’d booked a meeting with an ancient dragon to ask his advice on which vampire clan I should try to join. My best hope was that he found it amusing and didn’t take offense. Otherwise, the whole issue of my safety could become very moot, very quickly.

As the sun was nearing the edge of the horizon, Krystal and Arch came downstairs for our nocturnal version of breakfast, followed by Lillian a few minutes later.

“What’s on the docket for tonight, boss?” she asked. She wore the same outfit as before, though it had been cleaned and pressed since she went to bed. Charlotte’s laundering skills were like the rest of her hospitality abilities: flawless.

“Don’t you need to head back to Petre and report on me?” I asked.

Lillian rolled her eyes while helping herself to the plate of eggs one of the Charlotte-waiters had set down in front of her. “I’m supposed to be covertly investigating you, remember? Wouldn’t make much sense for me to run back to the clan every night. They’ll be expecting me to hang around for at least a few days, worming my way in and getting the account details. I’ve probably got three more nights, this one included, before I need to report back and make sure things look like they’re on track.”

“Lillian, I wanted to ask you this last night, but there wasn’t quite the opportunity,” Arch said, exercising a lot more diplomacy than I usually saw from him. “If you cover for Fred, pretend you didn’t realize he was the vampire Petre’s hunting for, will there be consequences for you?”

“Oh yeah, Petre’s going to be mad as hell,” Lillian confirmed. “Even if he believes me that it was an accident, that’s the same as failure in the House of Turva. They’ll probably keep me off blood for a week or so as punishment.”

It took her three bites of eggs before she realized we were all staring at her in silence. Lowering her fork, she let her practiced smile shrink by several degrees, if not fall away entirely. “It’s okay. This isn’t the first time I’ve disappointed my sire, and it won’t be the last. I’ve had to go a month without blood in the past, so a few weeks is nothing. Sometimes, they punish me for things way beyond my scope of control. I’d much prefer to take this one for something
I
decide is worthwhile.”

Though I heard her words, my mind was still reeling. A
month
without blood? More than two or three days and I would feel the thirst, and within hours, my body would begin to ache as the cravings grew stronger by the minute. During those first days, before I’d lined up my supplier, the most I’d made it was four days, and I could already feel the beginnings of my sanity fraying at the edges from the endless thirst and pain. I didn’t want to imagine how much worse it got from there. Two weeks would have been a living hell. A month was more than I even wanted to wrap my mind around.

“Is there any way we can help you? Make it seem like this wasn’t your fault?” I asked.

“Fault doesn’t really matter. They just have to punish someone when there’s a failure,” Lillian replied, clearing off the last of her eggs moments before the waiter came through the door with a fresh plate for her. “Make an example for the rest of the clan. The House of Turva hasn’t exactly kept up with the times in terms of motivational strategies. Like I said, though, it’s fine. Far from my first time dealing with this.”

“Maybe that’s true, but it’s certainly not fine.” I did some mental math, thinking through what I was trying to accomplish, and how much time I’d need. Probably weeks, if I were to do things properly. Though, if properly meant someone else being punished for my longshot idea, it seemed I would have to cut a few corners. “In three nights, when it’s time to report back, I want you to tell them the truth. That I’m the vampire Petre is looking for, that my accounting service is just an accounting service, all of it.”

“You’re giving up on the joining a clan thing?” Lillian asked.

“Not quite yet. I’ve got a meeting tonight that might shed some light on the viability of it. Regardless, I won’t let you take the punishment for helping us. If I can’t make it work in time, then that’s on me, not you. Go back to the Turvas as a successful infiltrator. That’s the very least I can do to thank you for all of your help.”

“Freddy,” Krystal said softly, “you do remember that trying to join a clan is already really hard for an outsider, right? Even if it were doable, you’d probably need weeks to convince them to take you on, jumping through hoops to prove you were worth a slot.”

“If it’s already nearly impossible, then trying to do it in three days instead of a few weeks probably won’t alter the odds that much,” I told her. “Chances are we’ll still end up on a jet to Boarback. I just want to see this through.”

I realized that Lillian was the one who’d fallen into silence this time, examining me carefully from her spot at the other end of the breakfast table. She’d even stopped eating, and was just pointlessly poking her eggs with her fork as she mulled over my words.

“If that’s really how you want it, Fredrick, then I’ll give them the rundown in three nights. But if you change your mind before then, just let me know. I made the offer, and I meant it; I can buy you more time.”

“I greatly appreciate the sentiment, but I’m afraid the price on that offer is simply too high.” Chancing a look at my watch, I realized that with the sun setting, I’d need to head out soon to make my meeting. While there was plenty of time until ten, Charlotte Manor was located some ways from town, and getting through the ceremony and security at Richard’s office always took longer than I expected. Even after all my visits, they were still wary of letting a vampire into the heart of a therian stronghold.

“Beg everyone’s pardon, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get ready to head out,” I announced, rising from the table, my own food barely touched. Even Charlotte’s cooking couldn’t settle the case of nerves I was dealing with.

“Just let me finish off this plate and I’ll be ready to go.” Lillian bent down closer to the table, fork in prime egg-shoveling position.

“No need, take your time and enjoy the meal,” I advised her. “I’m going to have to leave you behind for this meeting.”

“That’s probably not going to fly,” Lillian said. “Remember, I’m supposed to be your new assistant, your shadow, following you at every turn. What do I tell Petre if one of the clan sees you out on the town without me?”

“The truth,” I replied. “That I was going to have a meeting with the King of the West. By now, they know enough about Gideon to be aware that he wouldn’t tolerate a tag-a-long in one of his meetings.”

“And if they ask how you’re able to meet with him despite the fact that vampires can’t handle their draconic aura?” Lillian pressed.

“Right . . . I forgot they knew about that.” With everything on my plate, it was getting hard to keep track of how well-informed my opponents were.

“We just moved to a town with an ancient dragon; it came up in conversation,” Lillian said. From across the table, I saw Krystal chuckle, and for a moment, I even thought I caught a smirk on Arch’s face.

“Tell them Freddy dealt with a proxy.” With her giggles dying down, Krystal had apparently decided to be helpful. “That’s how the dragons dealt with vampires in the old days; they had a representative come stand in their place and have the conversation via telepathy enchantments with the proxy. Nowadays, most just use Bluetooth and a cell phone, but the tradition remains for the rare times when a dragon meets with a vampire. And since the proxy is essentially the dragon, you’d still have to show it the same respect by not bringing an intern along.”

“Trainee,” Lillian corrected.

“Spy, if you want to be a dick about it,” Krystal shot back.

“Right then, let’s just say I dealt with a proxy.” Something told me that if I didn’t right the conversation to a more productive path quickly, it might spiral beyond saving. “Lillian, will that sell upstream?”

“Don’t see why not, though maybe it’s best if you just try not to get spotted by any other vampires,” she suggested. “The less I have to talk to Petre before it’s decision time, the better off you are.”

“Well, I’ve managed to spend most of my life slipping around unnoticed,” I said. “Maybe just this once, it can be an asset.”

“Personally, I think it’s the sweater vest. Who pays attention to someone wearing a sweater vest?” Though Krystal was the one to speak the words, it didn’t escape my notice as I left the dining room that everyone else at the table seemed to be nodding along in agreement.

3.

To my surprise, when I arrived at Richard’s building, I wasn’t shown up to his penthouse/throne room at the top like usual. Instead, I was frisked by therian security, who glared at me stonily while checking to ensure I hadn’t brought any weapons with me. This pat-down was far less extensive than usual, I noticed, probably because while a firearm might be an issue for Richard, all it would do to Gideon was annoy. When security was finally done, I was taken up a different elevator than the one I normally used, to a floor that looked familiar—though all the generic office floors seemed that way. I was escorted down a hallway, coming to an office near a corner, and I suddenly realized exactly where I was before the door had even opened.

This was the room where Gideon had been held captive several months earlier. Where Bubba, Amy, and I had hunted him down, breaking into the magical cage while therians from another tribe slammed on the door, trying to kill us before we could free him. Even if I hadn’t been able to place the dull gray carpet and open layout, I certainly recognized the broken remains of the cube where Gideon had been trapped. They were there, just as I’d last seen them when fleeing the building. All that was different was that now a desk and a few chairs were set up in front of the twisted metallic remnants of a trap strong enough to ensnare a dragon.

Sitting behind the desk, drawing in a coloring book, was Gideon, whose child-like appearance belied the tremendous power and knowledge resting inside him. The door whispered shut behind me, and I realized that the therians had left me alone in the room. Not even they liked to be around Gideon any more than was strictly necessary. Since I didn’t have the luxury of fleeing, I decided to say something and start things off. Given how nervous I was, I hardly think I can be blamed for grasping the easiest conversational option available.