"Do you think I trust you?" I asked, walking away from him. He stepped up beside me.
"A missing child is not the reason I'm here," he replied.
"Then why are you here?" I turned away from him, afraid I might cry at any moment. I wanted to mist away from him and wondered if the Alliance had that information about me, too. Wondered what their dossier held regarding the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis.
"Many reasons. The Alliance wishes to keep you safe. I am their eyes and ears at the moment, charged with sending reports on just how safe you are. I'm not sure they're interested in personal drama, or the fate of one small child who was never legally adopted."
"There's the problem, I suppose. Legally. Isn't that what everybody bases everything on? The letter of the law?" I walked on and he followed. "Legally," I went on, "there shouldn't be a price on my head. Legally, I shouldn't be a vampire. Therefore, legally, we shouldn't even be having this conversation."
"I can't argue with your logic," Thurlow nodded. "If there was a way to make you feel better, I'd do it."
"I don't think there's a single thing that might make me feel better right now," I said. "Let's go back."
"If you want," he agreed. We parted once we were inside the palace and I headed toward my suite. It was empty when I arrived. Giff would always be there in the past, waiting on me so she could get me undressed and my clothing hung up. She was huddled in depression somewhere with Rolfe, who was doing his best to make things better for her. I wasn't going to interfere with that. Once again, I wondered what Roff was doing, and if anyone was trying to comfort him. I lifted my silk tunic over my head, walked toward my closet and searched for an empty hanger.
"Tell me why you wanted these maps!" Gavin's eyes were red and his fangs were pricking his lower lip. Ibbitt was frightened. He'd never seen vampires this close and angry, yet here were two of them, accompanied by another man. He wasn't sure what that one was.
"I-I had someone come to me, offering quite a bit f-for them," Ibbitt's voice quavered. "They didn't tell me why they wanted them."
"You will give me names and addresses, if you have them," Tony flopped a pad of paper in front of Ibbitt.
"He was supposed to go himself," Lynx said, after taking a brief moment to Look.
"I am too old," Ibbitt whined. And I have worked for these before."
"Then why don't you take us to them?" Gavin showed the entire length of his fangs.
"I have to set up a meeting," Ibbitt said. "Please, do not hurt me."
"Make the call." Lynx set Ibbitt's communicator on the table in front of him. Ibbitt nodded and lifted it with shaking hands.
"Lissa, why don't you spend a day or two at Grey House?" Shadow had my chin in his hand, forcing me to look up at him. I'd dressed in pajamas and sat on the side of my bed, but that was as far as I'd gotten. I hadn't turned down the bed or anything; I just sat there, numbly staring at the floor until Shadow folded in. "Kyler and Cleo are both at Grey House at the moment."
"Shadow, I don't know that I'm in the mood for anyone right now, even though they're family." Yeah, I was figuring things out, finally. I was afraid to dig very far; the betrayal might be too big. What was I supposed to do? Say "thanks, Dad, for fucking up my life again?" And other things were clicking into place, too—things like who else might have known, and when did they know? A lot rode on that, to be honest. If they'd known from the beginning, then my family would be whittled down to nothing and my mates would take a whittling as well.
"Come on, baby, come back with me. I don't get to sleep with you in my bed as often as I want." Shadow lifted me to my feet. "I'll open a bottle of wine and we can raid the kitchen."
"I'm not hungry."
"Baby, I got mindspeech from Drake and Drew, telling me you didn't come to dinner tonight. What do you think I'm supposed to do about that?" he leaned down to kiss me and folded me to Grey House at the same time.
"Raiding the fridge, son?" Raffian Grey walked into the dimly lit kitchen as Shadow was trying to tempt me with whatever was inside it. Raffian, Shadow’s father, sat next to me on a long, stainless-steel island in the center of the kitchen. His legs nearly reached the floor; mine didn't.
"Want a glass of wine, Dad?" Shadow straightened from perusing the lower shelves, lifting the bottle of wine he'd uncorked for his father to see.
"Sure." Raffian Pulled a wineglass off a rack, and then Pulled the bottle toward him, using the power that seemed to come so easily to him and his family. "What's in there that looks good?" he asked while he poured wine. The bottle sailed toward Shadow, once Raffian's glass was full.
"There's ham, roast beef and turkey," Shadow grinned at his father. "And some roast chicken." He pulled a platter out that held most of a roasted chicken. "Come on, help me eat the chicken," he coaxed.
That's how all three of us ended up sitting at the island, eating leftover roast chicken, drinking wine and nibbling on banana cake afterward. I went to bed with Shadow after cleaning the kitchen. Making love with Shadow is consuming. It's like fanning the flames of an out-of-control blaze. And it leaves me completely exhausted when it's over. I slept in Shadow's arms and he didn't wake me, as he should have. He let me wake on my own. That was and wasn't a good thing.
"Geez," I mumbled, willing my eyes to open in what I thought was early morning. Shadow answered by kissing my forehead and then my eyelids. "Honey, I ought to go home," I lifted a hand to rub my eyes, but my Wizard grasped the hand and kissed my fingers.
"You can sleep a little longer, if you want," he murmured against my hair.
"What time is it?" I asked, still trying to get my eyes open.
"Baby, it's nearly noon."
If Shadow hadn't held onto me, I might have leapt off the bed. I had an early meeting on Le-Ath Veronis. "I thought you could bend time," Shadow was smiling as I frowned up at the face that looked down at mine. He stroked my hair back. "You can stay here all day with me—it's off-day. You can sleep or we can make love, or go for a swim or eat ourselves sick. Besides, I sent mindspeech and Garde is taking the meeting."
"Garde is taking too many meetings," I muttered ungratefully, sitting up in bed. I was naked—Shadow didn't like pajamas or any other thing that people might sleep in.
"He was happy to do it—in fact he told me to make you sleep as long as possible."
"Honey, I need to get up." I was trying to wiggle away from him.
"Come on, baby, stay just a little while longer," Shadow wheedled. Well, as wheedling went, it worked pretty well.
Gavin and Tony had fangs and claws out as Ibbitt led them down narrow, stone steps, with hollows and grooves worn in places, they were so old. Gavin smelled moss, lichen and mildew; it was damp in this place and dark as pitch to anyone other than a vampire or someone who could change into a giant cat. Lynx had the night vision of his avatar if he needed it, and he needed it now. Ibbitt was going strictly by feel—he had his right hand on the stone wall as he carefully made his way down, leading the three behind him. He'd placed a call, and someone, Gavin couldn't say who, had told him to come when he explained that he had the maps.
Gavin carried the satchel that held the drawings over his shoulder, while his, Tony's and Lynx's footsteps were all but silent as they followed the wrinkled, ancient Ibbitt. When they reached a door, Ibbitt pulled a key from beneath his shirt—it hung on a gold chain about his neck. The key looked to be centuries old, but the lock clicked easily as if it were oiled and maintained regularly. Ibbitt swung the door wide and stepped inside an even blacker interior.
I'll fold us out, if there's danger, Lynx sent mindspeech. Gavin barely nodded, as did Tony, and they followed Ibbitt into darkness. Ibbitt's footsteps crunched—it was an old trick; place nutshells or another, similar substance on the floor—it was meant to alert anyone inside to their presence. Gavin could hover or lift himself, using the power afforded him as an older vampire. He lifted Tony and Lynx and sailed silently behind Ibbitt. Ibbitt found another door, and there was the dimmest light coming from the crack beneath it. He reached out for the handle and pulled the door back.
"Welcome, Ibbitt," a disembodied voice spoke. "Did you bring your guests with you?"
"Honored guest," the Pelipu bowed slightly to the one who'd come, and then stared at Alvoritt. This is what you've brought me? was the question trembling on the Pelipu's lips, but he dared not voice it aloud. "Thank you, Alvoritt," he murmured instead. "I appreciate your efforts on my behalf." The one Alvoritt had brought was of medium height, if that, and completely unremarkable. The Pelipu had been expecting a champion, at the very least—someone with a physique to match Alvoritt's description of a torturer, if nothing else. This one didn't appear strong enough to wield tongs, even.
"You have the prisoners?" Alvoritt asked.
"Of course. Would you prefer to go to the dungeons or have the prisoners brought here?" He hoped he didn't have to bring them here to his audience hall—he had expensive rugs on the floor and had no desire to toss them away if the blood flew.
"We'll go down," Alvoritt agreed amiably. He nodded deferentially to the one he'd brought in, who didn't even blink at the respectful gesture. Silently he followed as the Pelipu led them toward a doorway at the side of his audience hall. He waved off the guards, too, who prepared to come along.
"Stay here, I'll be perfectly fine," the Pelipu assured them; they were ready to ignore Alvoritt's unspoken command.
The dungeons were three flights of stone steps beneath the Pelipu's temple. The prisoners were kept in cages, nearly starved, and not allowed to bathe. The dungeon stank with old blood, excrement and death.