Nodding, I closed my eyes, found the green blips in my head, and checked first on the assistants downstairs. They wouldn’t be as strong as the Counselors and might know sensitive information. There were a lot of them. On a sigh, I began.
The assistants or underlings or whatever they were called—I’d need to ask someone—didn’t talk to each other. Godfrey was showing them around, but none of them seemed to care. They stayed in five distinct groups and peeled off from one another into different sections of the underground. Joao’s people were in the music room. Pablo’s were in the training room. Thi’s were in the lounge. Ahmed’s were in the kitchen. Adaeze’s were in the TV room, ignoring the baseball game on the screen. A few of Russell’s vamps were watching the replay of the game, but Adaeze’s group stood in the corner, speaking another language.
Shit. Language again. This was just like the ghosts in Budapest. I didn’t speak any of these languages. How was I supposed to know what they were thinking? I needed to start some intense language courses because this was pointless.
Before giving up, though, I checked on Thi’s group. As she was the one who seemed to actively hate me, I decided to try something. I went to each of her four people and pushed an image of myself, dressed as I was tonight, into their minds. Two of them spoke quickly in low tones to the others. One of them pictured a furious Thi speaking on the phone before her eyes went vamp black and she crushed the phone in her hand.
The fourth one, though, pictured Thi at her desk. Her phone alerted and she read a short text. The fourth could see it from where she stood in the corner, but I couldn’t interpret it. Thi didn’t seem upset at that point, just mildly concerned. She closed the document she was working on and began to search for information on Sam Quinn.
I found Clive’s blip in my head and pushed in.
Hello, darling.
Hey. Little problem with checking what the assistants know.
Is it that you don’t speak their languages?
Yes. Yes, it is.
Sorry, love. Cadmael is currently explaining what happened in Budapest.
He was possessed most of the time. How is he explaining?
He’s explaining the story we agreed upon. We decided he’d be the best believed of us.
I don’t know if you could tell, but Thi hates my guts.
There was a thoughtful pause and then, I couldn’t.
I felt it, so I checked with her assistants, forcing an image of myself on them. One of them had a memory of her receiving a text and then searching up info on me.
Bloody hell.
I need you to visit the memory with me so you can read the text.
When we get home, we can try. For now, you can stay with me and listen.
“But you three miraculously made it out without a scratch?” Pablo asked, an edge to his voice. “How fortuitous.”
“Two of us,” Vlad said.
Pablo’s eyebrows went up. The others turned to Vlad as well.
“Cadmael and I were in the training room. Clive was late. Newlyweds and all that,”
Pablo sneered at Clive before returning his focus to Vlad. “I don’t understand how you two survived. How were you immune to this possession you described?”
“Pablo,” Clive began. “I realize that we don’t know each other very well, but I would have thought that you’d have at least spoken to your historian about us.” He tipped his head, as though studying a bug under a microscope. “For instance, I know that you were Alejandro’s third before you betrayed him and took over his nocturne.”
Pablo’s eyes went vamp black. He leapt out of his seat and then froze, awkwardly falling onto the table.
“Just as I know,” Clive continued, “that you never bothered to find out my gifts, or those of Cadmael or Vlad. If you had, you’d know that Cadmael and I are two of the oldest vampires in the world.” Clive nodded to Ahmed. “Though my friend here may have me beat on age.”
Ahmed tipped his head in acknowledgment. The way the others scowled not at Clive but at Pablo showed that they too were irritated by his lack of finesse, not to mention the shame of being snared by Clive and made to look a fool.
“Vlad’s prowess in warfare is legendary, even amongst humans.” Clive shook his head. “Asking how they survived a battle is like asking Joao how he gets so many women.”
Joao laughed and nodded. “It is a gift.” He gestured to his face and body. “How can any resist this?” He pointed at Clive. “You, though, are also known for your endless conquests.”
