The vamps probably wouldn’t even notice the difference.
When he got off the phone with Olive, Davin didn’t even hesitate to put his dirty clothes back on, so apparently he’d thought it through himself and come to the same conclusion as I had.
By the time we got downstairs after eating, I was almost ready to walk away from the whole mess. My mother had kept me away from vamps for the most part, after all, so when they were everywhere, I was instilled with the urge to go back to my room. Just, the room we’d slept in the night before? That wasn’t really my room anymore.
When I saw Caspian in the dining room, though, I changed my mind.
Caspian was...well, if there had been boy bands in Bronze Age Mesopotamia, I figured Caspian had been in one. He was under five and a half feet tall, slender, and had that slinky movement of ancient vampires and dancers the world over. His skin was naturally golden brown, convenient for him since vampires couldn’t tan, and his hair was that shade of black that was almost blue.
All in all, the man was ridiculously good looking, but also, it was in the most non-threatening way a person could be, small and slender and lithe rather than hulking or brooding.
He smiled when he saw me, and stood immediately, his voice rising above everyone else in the room. “Flynn! How good to see you.”
I went into the room of dangerous predators, smiling at him, and when he came over and hugged me, I didn’t hesitate to return the gesture. He was tiny and cold, but well, he was a regular vampire, not like Davin.
Though maybe “regular” was the wrong word, since if there was a vampire in the world older than my mother, it was him.
I wondered how many names he’d been through over the years.
He didn’t pay any mind to the other vamps sitting around the dining room watching him with avid eyes, and led me out into the hallway.
“How have you been?” His accent was smooth and perfectly Broadcast American, in that way that said it was learned, practiced. No doubt his English was better than mine. I wasn’t especially embarrassed about it in this case; I suspected Caspian had forgotten more languages in his lifetime than most linguists ever knew.
“I’m okay. I mean, weird summer, you know?”
He laughed at that. “You are the only man I’ve ever met who could learn he was a dragon and flippantly refer to it as a ‘weird summer.’ But good. I am pleased this isn’t bothering you.”
“It’s better to know than wonder forever.” While I didn’t want to say my mother had made a mistake in not telling me, in some ways I wished she had. It had been sensible of her to keep quiet, and it had likely protected me. But not knowing had made other things harder, too.
Caspian nodded at that as he led me up the stairs toward the bedrooms. Odd that he would go there. What was he planning? “I understand you’re in a difficult situation here,” he said, and looked at me as though...as though I would have some compelling response.
“I’m not, though. I think you’re in a more difficult situation than I am. These dragons are a threat to me. I have to stop them. But you...”
A slow smile spread across his face, and he turned to knock on...on my mother’s bedroom door. Yikes.
My mother’s voice was crisp and authoritative as it answered. “Come in, Caspian. Flynn. Davin.”
Of course. The three of us and only the three of us.
Caspian didn’t hesitate, simply opened the door and flowed his way inside like he was made of water and not skin and bones. “Fiona,” he said to her. “It’s quite the posse you’ve gathered down there.”
“I mean to protect what’s mine,” was her surprisingly terse answer.
“And I have no doubt your people will be happy to help protect and fortify your position. It’s an excellent idea, and I’ve been telling you for years that you should improve security around your home.” He paused, and they locked gazes, in some kind of silent discussion I couldn’t begin to understand.
For the first time I’d ever witnessed, my mother looked away first.
Caspian, without any kind of crowing—of course—turned to my father. “Tell me, where were you being held?”
My father, who was sitting up in Mother’s bed, his back supported by what seemed to be a hundred pillows, seemed chagrined, somehow. Did he not remember? “It’s...in the North Sea. I couldn’t give you coordinates, but I’m sure of that much. Flew over the North Pole to get here.”
Caspian nodded, not seeming the least bit surprised or bothered. “I’ll arrange for satellite photos. I’m sure someone got clear pictures, and we’ll be able to locate it.” He glanced at my mother, but in the end, turned to me instead of her. What the hell was happening? “I would be happy to accompany you tohandle this situation, but that is a personal matter, my help. The senate itself will do nothing.”
From across the room, I could hear my mother grinding her teeth.
Shit.
“I’ll go,” my father announced, like that was remotely an option. He hadn’t even been able to walk from the car into the house yesterday.
