“This is fate indeed.” He smiled broadly. “I was the assistant to a very powerful, very old vampire in my city. For years before I was sired, I ran her vast estate, managed the extensive staff and her schedule. I know how to work with mortals and othernaturals alike.” His face went very serious. “I can do this job. It may very well be the reason I felt compelled to come here. Please, give me a chance.”
She sat back, taking in everything he’d said and mulling it over. The wheels in her head began to spin. “How old and how powerful?”
“She was in direct connection with the most ancient of our kind.”
She tried not to react to his statement, but it was as if he’d known what she wanted to hear. She played it off, fussing with some papers on her desk as if his words meant nothing to her. “If you were so good at what you did, why aren’t you still working for this vampire anymore?”
Sorrow tarnished his eyes. “The burden of eternity became too much for her to bear. She lost someone dear to her and, in her grief, walked into the dawn.” He swallowed and looked away for a moment. “Forgive me. I still miss her.”
Lola understood what it meant to lose someone so close to you. She nodded in sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss. I would be happy to offer you the job. Maybe the work will be good for you. Give you something else to focus on.”
He smiled gently, his eyes still liquid and yet happy. “Thank you. I will not let you down.”
Exactly how powerful and connected was the vampire across from her? She needed to know what he was capable of, because what she really wanted from him wasn’t for him to become her nighttime assistant.
What she wanted from him was the knowledge of how to access those ancients he spoke of. The ancients she knew were holding her grandchild.
“Mariela,” Preacher whispered, letting the breeze take her name like a prayer. His military and religious training had taught him enough about lies and confession to know that Creek was telling the truth and the mayor was not, but even without that, he knew in his heart that his daughter was alive. He could feel that the bond between them remained unbroken.
The wind whistled past, barely registering. He stood high in the church’s belfry, the bells long ago stolen by hoods looking for a few quick bucks off the scrap metal. The view from here made the church impossible to sneak up on. When Mariela was first born, he’d spent every night up here, coming down only to eliminate the bands of fringe who came nosing around, sniffing after the scent of newborn.
Damn vampires.
He’d killed as many as he could. Each one an example of what he’d do to anyone who tried to harm his child.
He laughed softly, bitter and disgusted at himself. He still hadn’t been able to save her. And now, he was forced to sit on his hands or sacrifice his life. Patience was a difficult thing, especially when it came to Mariela’s life.
But he would wait. At least a little while longer.
Creek leaned against the kitchen counter while Annika and Octavian stood across from him. He wasn’t crazy about his place being the new meeting spot for KM business. All the coming and going attracted too much attention. He also didn’t like Octavian arriving before Annika. The vampire had been here half an hour before the sector chief, leaving Creek to play host. Not a job he excelled at.
Annika tipped her head toward him. “How did it go with Preacher?”
“He’s not happy with the mayor being turned, but after I explained the KM to him and what we’re planning, he agreed to sit tight. He wants to be included on whatever we do, though.” Creek shrugged. “The kid is his. I can’t say I blame him or disagree. Her name is Mariela, by the way.”
“Whose name?” Annika asked.
“The child. Preacher called her Mariela. Also, he told me the mayor wanted him to meet with her at her office. I told him to go but keep our meeting a secret. Who knows, maybe we’ll get some info off him the next time I visit.”
She turned to Octavian. “Or you can find out what she wanted with him, assuming it went well with the mayor.”
He almost laughed. “It did. Easier than anticipated, actually. The intel was dead on. She ate up the story about my past and hired me on the spot for the assistant job. As long as she perceives me to be loyal, I should be fine.”
Annika nodded. “Good. Both situations are controlled, then. How much longer before you find out who sired her?”
“She needs companionship and seems very willing to confide in me. Twenty-four hours. Maybe less. I can confirm her sire was House of Paole.”
“I knew it.” Creek shifted to lean on his elbow. “When I saw her that first night, it was like she was a blank space. Couldn’t sense a thing. Preacher told me she tried to get him to sire her, but he refused her. I believe him. He has no love for her.”
Something buzzed. Twice. He realized it was his and Annika’s phones. She reached into her jacket and pulled hers out as he did the same. She held the screen up so he could see the matching alert scrolling across the front. “New police scanner app. Part of the last KM upgrade to all communication systems.”
She pressed her index finger to the screen, then scanned the message, shaking her head. “Not good. A body’s just been found in an alley off of Biscayne Boulevard. Time of death is within the last two hours.” Creek followed her words on his screen, surprised to be getting the same info she was at the same time.
He nodded. “Cause of death appears to be puncture wounds to the neck and exsanguination.”