Nikolett had left two days ago, and aside from a notice that she was back in Budapest, he hadn’t heard from her. The firstnight she was gone, he’d woken only once from a dream he couldn’t really remember, but which he knew involved her.
Colum, Xavier, and Annie left yesterday. They were continuing their honeymoon in New York where they’d start packing up Annie’s life in preparation for her move to Dublin. That was both a practical choice and a security decision. The Spaniard had attacked the archive, and as of this moment, they were no closer to finding their latest enemy than they had been a week ago. He didn’t want Colum and his new spouses anywhere near the archive until the Spaniard was found.
Unlike Nikolett, Colum was reasonable and agreed there was a safety concern. He happily jetted off to New York.
Nikolett had insisted on going home. A home where she’d been attacked multiple times. True that the Spaniard was a separate issue from the ongoing attacks she’d faced over the last half a year, but the Spaniard was their current problem, and he knew where she lived.
His stomach twisted with fear and anxiety, layering atop the remaining tension from his dream. Eric was seriously considering doing drugs to stay awake rather than living through one of those too-real nightmares again, when the intercom chimed for a second time.
He snatched up the phone, realizing the lack of sleep was getting to him. Amphetamines probably weren’t the answer, though they were an option.
“What?” he demanded, not caring if he sounded like an ass.
“You have a visitor,” Regina said smoothly.
“A what?”
“A visitor is a person who comes to your house to visit you.”
Eric pantomimed strangling Regina to keep from snapping at her. “I know what a visitor is. Who is it?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Actually, I don’t care. Tell them to go away.”
“This particular visitor is wearing a triquetra ring.”
Eric perked up. Someone from the Trinity Masters? He would desperately love to deal with some of their bullshit rather than his own society’s bullshit. That way, the worst of it was Juliette’s problem and he could just enjoy the drama.
Eric jumped up, heading for his closet to find clothes that weren’t soaked in sweat. “Did the visitor say why they’re here?”
“To ‘help.’”
“I assume you’ve checked them?”
“No explosives, no weapons. He refused to give blood though.”
Eric stopped. “You take people’s blood as part of the security screening?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, that’s…” They were going to come back to that.
Eric ripped off his clothes, debated if he had time for a shower, then yanked on fresh ones, no shower.
“Did they say anything else?”
“He said, ‘Franco said this helps, and your brother says do it.’”
Eric stared at the phone. “You probably should have led with that.”
Regina humphed.
“Let him up.”
Eric bounded out of his apartment, which was built into the top floor of the castle, down first the narrow winding stone staircase that led to his apartment and then the broad stone staircase to the ground floor.
The door to one of the small reception rooms off the grand foyer was open, Regina standing guard outside it.
When she saw him, Regina strode over to whisper in his ear.
“His name is Elijah Mata. He has no social media we can find and no Interpol file. We’ll find out more, but that will take time.At least a couple hours. His declared occupation on his Global Entry file is doctor.”
