Duncan - Page 9/61

Louis shook his head. “Not in the city of D.C., my lord. He and his four were the only vamps he permitted to live here . . . well, other than those creatures in the basement. But there are plenty of blood houses in the surrounding states. Not always houses, of course, sometimes clubs, like what Rajmund has up in Manhattan. About half as ritzy, though.”

“I want a list of anyplace within . . .” Duncan thought for a moment. “Let’s make it within two hours’ drive from here. I suspect Victor’s less savory entertaining was done somewhere other than this house. Not that he would have cared, but his guests might have. And Emma said Lacey talked about going to a party outside the city. How long will it take you to come up with that information?”

“No more than a few minutes, my lord. Victor kept lousy records, but I started building my own database a few weeks ago, pretty much as soon as I arrived here to start getting things ready for you.”

“Excellent. I’m going to track down Miguel,” Duncan said, “and you can meet us in the library once you have the list. The rest of you keep working on these files, and if you find anything noteworthy, call my cell.”

Duncan found Miguel in the basement with yet another of the vampire crews that had come in last night. This one was very specialized and would only remain until their task was complete, which, from the looks of things, would be much longer than anyone anticipated.

“This is all shit, Miguel,” a wiry, gray-haired vampire was saying. He slapped a beam of rotting wood and Duncan winced, hoping the entire house wasn’t about to collapse on their heads. They’d probably survive, but it might take a while to dig themselves out.

Duncan grinned at the gray-haired vamp’s back and said, “Think of it as a challenge, Alaric.”

The vampire spun around with a bark of laughter. “A challenge is you trying to last the full five minutes in the ring with me, my lord. This . . .” He waved at the musty, dark basement around them. “. . . this is plain old shit. And I’m not even talking about the vamp dust left over from Victor’s abomination experiment.”

All laughter fled, and Duncan nodded soberly. “Louis cleaned most of it out,” he said.

“And he did a fine job of it, too,” Alaric agreed. “But I’ll tell you, Duncan. I served in more than one war as a human and saw some pretty awful things. And God knows, I’ve seen my share of horrific sights as a vampire. But this? This place gives me the creeps. I wouldn’t want to sleep down here, even if the foundation wasn’t rotting and about to dump the whole house on my head.”

Duncan regarded the other vampire thoughtfully. Alaric was the finest vampire contractor in North America. He’d built the daytime sleep vaults in every one of Raphael’s personal residences and scattered headquarters, including the new compound up near Seattle. There were a couple of other crews doing similar work in the vampire community. They’d all trained with Alaric, and that let them charge a very pretty price for their services. But there was no substitute for having Alaric himself in charge of your project, and Duncan would have paid any price Alaric asked in order to secure the safest possible resting place for his people. A vampire was completely helpless during daytime sleep. The recent murders of two of Raphael’s vampires, along with three more in Canada, had proved that beyond a doubt.

“So, what do you propose?” he asked now.

“It’s going to take time and a lot of money to put in a decent underground vault,” Alaric warned him immediately. “This whole city’s built on a fucking swamp.”

Duncan didn’t miss the gleam in Alaric’s eye when he said that, although it was probably as much from the challenge as the price tag.

“I don’t care what it costs. If it can be done, I want it done.”

The vamp shook his head, laughing softly. “I’ll give you this, my lord. You do things right. Okay. Let me get the rest of my guys in here, and we’ll do a full inspection.” He gave Miguel a pointed look. “I won’t be needing you for that part.”

Miguel looked affronted, but Duncan intervened quickly and said, “That’s good. I need Miguel with me tonight anyway.”

His lieutenant gave him an inquiring look, but Duncan just signaled him to follow. Vampire hearing was entirely too good, and as much as he admired Alaric’s skill, he had no desire to share the details of his personal affairs.

Miguel immediately took the lead, going upstairs ahead of Duncan, pausing to scan the hallway before stepping through the doorway. As if enemies were already lying in wait for them somewhere between the kitchen and the stairs. But Duncan didn’t say anything. The situation was still too unsettled. Security was better, but not yet up to Miguel’s—or Duncan’s—standards. There were vampires working all over the house, and yet it was still more than half empty. Eventually it would feel like home and safety. But not yet.

Louis was already waiting for them in the library. “I e-mailed the data to both of you, my lord.”

“What data?” Miguel asked, pulling out his smartphone.

“Victor was giving parties with guests who’d rather not be seen,” Duncan replied. “Which means he was using a house that’s at least private, if not isolated. He wouldn’t have wanted neighbors seeing people come and go all the time; they might get nosey and see someone they recognize. But he wouldn’t have been using some rundown cabin in the woods, either. Victor was a snob. The house will be elegant, expensive, very possibly in an exclusive area of homes, but with substantial acreage for privacy.”

“Leesburg, Virginia, my lord,” Louis said confidently. “Victor owned two properties there, both of which would suit, and there’s a blood house nearby, too.”

“How far?”Duncan asked.

“About thirty-five miles. This time of night, thirty minutes to an hour, depending on traffic.”

Duncan nodded. It might be late winter, but the nights were still long. They’d have plenty of time. “Let’s go, then. Unless you’d rather stay here and knock down some walls for Alaric.” He started for the door, then glanced down at what he was wearing. Like the others, he was dressed casually, in jeans and a sweater. He hadn’t planned on meeting any of his new subjects tonight, hadn’t planned on even leaving the house, much less visiting any of the blood houses. But it would take time for him to change, and besides these clothes were warmer. That decided it for Duncan. He grabbed a leather jacket from the old-fashioned coat tree near the door, pulling it on over his sweater. There was a leather hair tie in the jacket pocket, so he finger-combed his hair back and tied it into a rough tail. It would have to do. Raj’s Manhattan club might be tuxedo territory, but most blood houses were far less formal. And if not, well, he was their lord and master, and he’d wear whatever he damned well pleased. And if anyone had a problem with it, he wouldn’t mind a good bloodletting either.

Chapter Seven

The blood house didn’t exactly look like a hot bed of vampire activity. Located in a tony housing tract in an upscale suburb of Leesburg, it was a meticulously maintained contemporary home with a low-slung profile and pristine landscaping. The houses in this area were spaced far apart and surrounded by a broad swath of green forest, which gave the illusion of living amongst nature. The effect was lovely, and very private.

It was two a.m., or vampire high noon, but there were no cars in the driveway or in front of the house. Duncan could detect two vampires inside, however, both wide awake.

“Kind of quiet for a blood house, isn’t it?” Louis asked, eyeing the house doubtfully.

Duncan nodded, agreeing with Louis. Something wasn’t quite right here. “Well, someone’s home. Let’s be polite and ring the doorbell.”

The door opened while they were still making their way down the paved walk to the flat front porch. Miguel and Louis both tensed and immediately formed a wall in front of Duncan.

By contrast, the slender, dark-haired vampire standing in the doorway gave them a big smile and bowed gracefully. “Welcome, my lord,” he said, trying discreetly to catch a glimpse of Duncan behind the wall of vampire. “Please,” he added, straightening to give a welcoming gesture, “come inside and get warm.

“Thank you, Brendan,” Duncan murmured, stepping around his two bodyguards.

Since they’d never met, Brendan twitched at the sound of his name, but Duncan knew he was Brendan Folmer. He’d taken the knowledge from the vampire’s brain before he’d ever opened the door.

“I am Duncan,” he said, entering the house. He indicated the others. “My lieutenant, Miguel, and security chief, Louis.”

Brendan closed the door behind them. “Erik will be down in a moment, my lord,” he said, referring to the second vampire in the house, the one Duncan could sense upstairs. “We didn’t expect you and—”

Brendan’s worried explanation was cut off as the second vampire appeared on the landing. He raced downstairs and immediately knelt in front of Duncan. “My lord Duncan,” he said reverently. “Thank you for coming.”

With a look of dismay, Brendan dropped gracefully to his knees next to his partner and lowered his gaze.

Duncan brushed a hand over their bowed heads, acknowledging their submission. “I’m gratified by your welcome,” he said.

Erik jumped to his feet as soon as Duncan’s hand lifted. “You’ll find no sorrow for Victor’s passing here, my lord. Nor anywhere in the territory, I would imagine.” He gestured at a matching pair of pale leather couches in front of the fireplace. “Would you like to sit? The fire is nice, especially on these cold nights.”

Brendan laughed. “Erik thinks anything below seventy degrees Fahrenheit is freezing.”

Duncan privately agreed with that assessment. Washington winters were going to take some getting used to after so many years in L. A.’s balmy climate.

“So this is your home, then?” he asked, settling onto the couch and stifling a sigh of pleasure at the fire’s heat.