Embracing the Shadows (27 page)

"Let's have a seat." Tomasino gestured to the
two padded chairs somewhat facing each other, separated by a small,
ornate wooden table. When we both eased into our seats, he said, "I
would begin with pleasantries, but I believe we both share the
desire to skip idle banter and get to the heart of a matter."

I tried to grin when I said, "I don't even
like wasting time agreeing with that."

His smile at my response seemed genuine.
"I've heard a thing or two about you, Mr. Beck," he began. "For
instance, I know you were quite capable of doing more than merely
tossing me out of the way . . ."

I didn't really want to discuss flinging my
new Doyen through a wall, but he evidently did. Hey, his party, his
rules. "Yeah, maybe, but I wasn't pissed off at you or anything.
You had a shitty C.O. who put you in some bad spots. Despite her
stupid-ass choices, you still tried to do your job." Tomasino
reluctantly nodded. "It takes serious balls to stand against Viggo,
and you did it more than once. I respect that."

"Not that it did much good," he said with a
wry grin.

"It made him think highly of you, and that's
not easy to do." I shifted in my chair and asked a similar question
in return. "So, you turned your wrist. Why'd you only give me the
flat of your blade?"

Tomasino thought about it for a second.
"Honestly, the main reason I did so was because I didn't want your
sire to truly lose his temper. As you said, I did what was required
and attempted to defend the Doyenne, however ineffectual I might be
against the Veleti. And I was. I presumed he would take less
affront of a full attack on him than on his new scion. I didn't
want his rage focused on me."

"There's no shame in that, sir. No one would
want Viggo coming down on them."

"I suppose," he replied, and then seemed to
refocus his thoughts. "One other subject, Mr. Beck, and then we can
rejoin the others. When you and your sire came to the art gallery
that evening . . . I wonder if the Veleti knew how events would
play out. He chose a private place, yet surrounded by humans. He
used blood-bound Adepts as informants. He met with the Doyenne in a
restricted setting, rather than at a formal Gathering or on Civil
Ground. He very well may have known Lady Le Meur's foolish
reaction, perhaps even counted on it." He sat forward and asked,
"Did Viggo plan to remove her that night?"

That was a damn good question, and I didn't
have an answer.

BALCONY

I always figured Skin was sort of a hustler,
but I didn't have any proof until we made a bet while playing pool.
We'd both won a game against each other. Before we started the
tiebreaker, I stupidly suggested a wager. His beady little Irish
eyes lit up, and I knew right then I made a mistake. He was
sandbagging during our first two games. That fucker wasted no time
clearing the table, never missing a shot.

Skin was also a bullshitter, telling stories
of wild things he'd done and famous people he'd met. The whole time
of circling the table and sinking balls, he never shut up. I didn't
mind. Hell, I didn't even mind being suckered; he was entertaining,
especially at a dull party where most of the other hemos pretty
much ignored me.

I stepped out of the way to let Skin drop the
8-ball when I saw Cordell by himself out on the balcony. He had his
back to me, looking out over the city lights. I walked out there
and leaned on the railing next to him. Keeping my eyes fixed on the
view of downtown at night, I said, "I couldn't have imagined
anything like all of this if they paid me. How about you,
Cord?"

He turned his head and asked, "Do I know
you?"

I'd forgotten that the infliction messed with
my vocal chords a little. I'd gotten used to it, but old friends
wouldn't recognize my voice over the phone anymore. "It's me, man -
Leo." Cordell flinched and took a half step away. "Yeah, I know," I
said, understanding his reaction. "I'm not used to the new me,
either."

He silently studied my profile. I just kept
looking out at the lights. "Leo, you -" he began and faltered. "The
Veleti - that monster - he brought you into the night?"

I shrugged. "It was either this, or he got to
watch me die . . . slow and painful. He left it up to me. Afraid of
death or too stubborn to give up, I'm not sure. Maybe I was both.
Right or wrong, I chose this."

"But - but becoming a scion of the Deviant
fiend?" Cord said with disgust. "To be a cursed child of the devil,
that's what you've chosen. I don't know you anymore."

When he turned to walk away, I barked,
"That's bullshit, Cord!" He stopped, but didn't turn back around.
"I'm still me, at least on the inside. No one and nothing is going
to change that." Cordell stood still for another second, and then
started walking away again. "You fucking coward," I growled. That
got his attention. I went on as he spun to face me. "No matter what
I've gone through, I always looked after my friends. You know that.
Hell, Cord, you've done the same. Maybe it's you who isn't the same
anymore, and you took the easy way out. I can't believe my friend
would replace old trust with new hatred."

He came right up in front of me, glaring down
into my eyes. "You know better than to call me a coward."

"And you should know that I'm nobody's
bitch." I stared back at him for a second, but my heart wasn't in
it. I kept my dark ardor in check. Sighing, I continued in a softer
tone. "Dammit, Cord, I'm not the Veleti. I couldn't be, and I don't
wanna be. I'm Leo, you're my friend, and we've both been through
some very surreal shit. It hasn't changed who we are, has it?"

Cordell's light brown eyes lost their
intensity, and he took a step back. "I don't have all the facts
yet," he replied with a calmer voice. "The truth isn't as easy to
find anymore. I'll think about what you said, Leo, but my opinion
of your sire hasn't changed. The things I saw him do . . ."

"Yeah, him - not me," I said. "Look, man,
forget our sires or a second. We can -" I stopped myself short, not
wanting to push. I'd said what I wanted to. "Alright, I'll stop
bothering you. But if you ever need me, or just wanna talk . . .
you've got my number."

He stood there uncertainly for a second, and
then walked away. I didn't feel much better about where our
friendship was, but at least he didn't throw me off the
balcony.

I was still out there a few minutes later
when two figures approached from my left. Barnabus was coming over
to me with what was obviously another Deviant next to him. I was
introduced to Rolando Lucida. And damn, Clara was right - looking
at him made me feel better about my new looks.

Rolando, as he gruffly preferred to be called
by fellow Deviants, had four limbs and a head . . . and that's
about as human as he got. He was short with an elongated skull. His
legs were long and his torso was squat. His skin . . . Shit, he
didn't have skin; it was a chaotic patchwork of fur and scales.
Rolando had the ears and disgusting nose of a bat, overly large
snake eyes, a tusked mouth like a boar, and a hard fin on top of
his scaly bald head. Holy shit, he was one ugly hemo.

He stood there fussing with his new clothes -
all denim, except for hiking boots - while Barnabus told me about
him. The recently-returned Deviant was an explorer, all
underground. He'd been part of the city's collective for decades,
but was rarely seen. Evidently, there were a lot of subterranean
caverns and lakes in the Midwest, too deep and unreachable for
normal archeological ventures.

Hearing that, it made sense that Runa's quest
to go find Roland sounded like a longshot. But, there he was.
Either Runa somehow found him, or he was coming back to the surface
anyway. Either way, it was clear by the way the explorer kept
looking up that he wasn't used to seeing stars above him.

Rolando didn't seem like a smooth talker,
either, but I had no problem with that. He asked if I'd been
presented, gave a nod when I said yes, and then watched Tomasino
chat with some female hemo in a checkered dress further along the
wide balcony. That's when I noticed the rock climber's hammer in
his belt loop. If I'd known weapons were permitted, I would've
loaded up.

It was a few minutes later, after Barnabus
and Rolando had moved on, that I noticed a hush in the hum of
conversation inside. Glancing back into the penthouse, I saw Viggo
striding through the living room. Any nearby hemos clammed up when
he walked by. A few even bowed their heads. My sire didn't even
look at them. Conversations resumed after he went down a hallway
and out of sight. I told myself that sooner or later that night,
I'd be the one searching him out for a talk instead of vice
versa.

Not long after Viggo's arrival, the
formalities of the Gathering had begun. Tomasino stood in front of
a big corner fireplace (obviously unlit) in the living room, where
he spoke to the crowd. His short speech was mostly about honor -
honored to be Doyen, honored to be endorsed by the Veleti. He ended
by saying he expected the collective to honor and respect the
individuals selected for seats on his council. It was a pretty
smooth segue into his next order of business.

Tomasino named the elder Dorian Riniker as
counselor; a right-hand man, I guess. Barnabus and the Adept Nathan
Powell were asked to keep their places as emissaries. Former
Outsider emissary Vincent Zapada had stepped down, leaving a
vacancy. However, a newcomer of that faction had applied to take
Zapada's place. I thought he was speaking of Grigori Olinchenko
until the woman in the checkered dress stepped forward.

It was technically a dress, but something
like you'd see at a Highland Games festival. It was a long tartan
skirt of green and black, with a matching wide sash from hip to
opposite shoulder. Under that was a white shirt with puffy sleeves.
The woman herself was fairly attractive; average height and build,
dark brown hair halfway down her back, and light eyes. The real
appeal, though, was her air of confidence.

Given permission to speak, she turned and
addressed the crowd. In a thick accent (I learned later it was
Scottish), she said her name was Kyla Mackenzie. Getting right to
the point, she told everyone that she'd known Jack Fletcher for a
very long time. They fought together in clan skirmishes and against
the English in centuries past. She knew Fletcher had a wild heart;
she'd come to tame it again. And, if allowed to be emissary, she'd
bring honor back to her faction.

It was a nice speech, but Mackenzie was just
another Outsider - unpredictable and with anger issues. In my mind,
none of them except Cordell had any honor to begin with.

Then I found out why Rolando Lucida was
called for. Tomasino named him the new enforcer. He was a fellow
Deviant and all, but . . . that guy? I was judging by appearances,
which normally isn't fair; in the case of hemos, extremely so. For
all I knew, Senor Ugly was a damn juggernaut.

Not one for public speaking, Rolando simply
told everyone that he was impartial and expected everyone to abide
by the Doyen's laws. There would be no leniency, and penalties
would be harsh. Without any bullshit, he said how it'd be - I liked
that. It reminded me of a couple drill sergeants I trained
under.

I leaned against one of the open glass doors
and watched the small crowd begin to fan out and mingle again. Over
by the kitchen, I saw Mackenzie talking with Viggo. I left the
balcony and made my way over to them. The Outsider spoke for
another few seconds until she realized she was between two large
and gruesome Deviants, neither of whom appeared to be interested in
her words.

When Mackenzie smoothly excused herself, I
said to Viggo, "I think we should talk, sir."

He regarded me for a second before saying, "I
was under the impression you had taken issue with me for some
reason. That has changed, I presume?"

"No, it hasn't," I answered honestly. "I just
needed to get my head straight first."

"And what would you like to discuss, my
scion?" There was a hint of challenge in his voice.

I held back the sarcastic reply that came to
mind. "There's a room back that way where we can talk privately," I
said instead. "Would you join me, sire?"

Viggo nodded, and we began walking. Unlike
the chat I had with Cordell, I had to hammer my point home until he
relented . . . Or until he blood-bound me again to stop me from
being a pain in the ass, whichever came first.

ASSURANCES

The door to the study I formerly spoke with
Tomasino in was open, although the room was occupied. Dominic Riva
was talking with the artist Isabel Greco when we interrupted them.
I wanted that specific room for its calming, Pledge-scented effect.
With Viggo behind me, I said, "We need this room. There are others
to choose from."

Greco started to object when Riva cut her
off, saying, "Sure, no problem." I imagine Viggo gave him some sign
to get his ass out. The blood-bound douche even dusted the seat off
after he stood. "There you are, Veleti. We'll move along." He took
the confused Greco by the arm and led her out past us.

I shut the door as Viggo sat. "I have seen
similar behavior like yours from Aldo," he commented while I took
the seat facing him. "We were further along in our relationship
than you and I are. His moodiness was fueled by jealousy - envious
of my power, covetous of my wealth. It caused a rift for a time.
Revolt from one's child is to be expected, and comes wearing any
number of masks. Is that the basis of this?"

"Nope, not one bit," I calmly replied. "I'm
not a greedy prick like Aldo. I'm not angry. I'm not
resentful."

Viggo relaxed a little. "I would have been
surprised if you were. I never saw you as that type, Leo. That
being said, you did imply there was an issue between us. So, if we
are not here to discuss a grudge or some sort of irritation on your
part, what topic did you have in mind?"