Chapter 25
Vlad looked at the picture, his brows drawn together. After a long moment, he exchanged a glance with Maximus, who shook his head with an expression I couldn’t decipher.
Then Vlad turned to me. “The only person I know that this picture resembles died a long time ago.”
“Oh,” I said, disappointed. “Well, it’s not an exact replica. I’ll keep linking through the bones. Maybe there’s a detail or two about him that I can describe better.”
Vlad handed the picture to Maximus. “Make a copy and show it to Jackal. Find out if he’s encountered this man before.”
“Jackal’s still alive?” I asked in surprise.
“Of course. Where do you think Shrapnel has been?”
“I didn’t know he’d been torturing Jackal this whole time!” I blurted, forgetting to watch my words in front of Jillian. Hopefully she hadn’t understood that.
No such luck. “Someone is tortured?” Jillian rose, her hand near her mouth. Then a torrent of nervous-sounding French erupted from her as she began to back away.
“Assieds-toi, ce ne sont pas tes oignons,” Vlad said, his eyes flashing bright green.
Whatever he told her, that combined with the power in his gaze worked. She sat, her expression changing from horror to placidness. Satisfied, Vlad turned his attention back to me.
“Not just Shrapnel. I spend time with Jackal daily, too.”
Some things I would never get used to with Vlad. This was one of them. I picked my words with care.
“But you said Jackal didn’t know who’d sent him after me, so why all the, ah, extra effort?”
Vlad shrugged. “Due diligence.”
Only he could describe a week of brutal interrogations so casually.
“My father would love you,” I muttered.
His grin was so at odds with the topic that if I hadn’t gotten used to Vlad’s quixotic nature, I would’ve been startled.
“Most fathers don’t.”
“Well, mine’s a retired lieutenant colonel who swears that water boarding is an acceptable interrogation technique.”
Another shrug. “Fire works faster. Speaking of your family, I have a secure number you can give them. You should contact them soon so they don’t worry and report you missing.”
I cleared my throat. This was an uncomfortable topic to discuss in front of Jillian, even though she seemed oblivious to us at the moment.
“Not a problem. My dad and I only speak every couple months, and my sister Gretchen and I talk even less.”
An inner hollowness spread with those words. My dad had been deployed for much of my childhood, so our relationship had always been more of a long-distance one, but Gretchen and I used to be close. All that changed the day my mother died. We hadn’t spoken since my aunt’s funeral a year ago, and that conversation had been bitter.
Vlad’s smile was gone, his expression now flickering between regret and cynicism.
“Sometimes families bring no peace. On many occasions, my younger brother tried to kill me. Once, he thought he’d succeeded, but I was past mortal death by then.” His mouth twisted. “Despite this, when Radu died, I mourned him. Family is always irreplaceable, even when they’re also irreconcilable.”
Irreplaceable. Yes, that summed up my mother. My aunt Brenda, too. She’d taken over raising me and Gretchen after my mother’s death so we wouldn’t have to move all over the world following my father’s most recent transfer orders. Aunt Brenda had also been the one to break the news to my dad that something very strange had happened when my damaged nerves regenerated and my whole body began giving off an electrical charge.
I shook my head as if that would clear the memories away. “That man you said that picture reminded you of, the one who’s dead. Could he have a relative who looked like him?” One with a grudge against you? I mentally added.
“He has no biological family left alive.”
“Are you sure?” Men fathered secret babies all the time—
“He’d been a vampire for over a hundred years when he died; it was impossible for him to father children,” Vlad stated.
I glanced at Jillian to see if the word vampire freaked her, but she still seemed to be insulated in her happy place.
“Well, what if he didn’t die? The man who ordered an attack on you just happens to resemble a vampire you used to know. What if he’s still alive and—”
“He’s not.” Vlad’s smile was chillingly pleasant. “Mihaly Szilagyi was the first person I ever burned to death.”
Jillian retired to one of the guest rooms. Vlad wanted her to stay for the next couple days in case I discovered any other pertinent details on the still-nameless puppet master. But though I’d spent the afternoon sifting through a flood of memories from the charred remains, all I’d gotten so far was a funky-looking ring the puppet master wore. And a headache.
Vlad had left me alone to concentrate—and to help Shrapnel do terrible things to Jackal while asking him if he recognized the man in the drawing, no doubt. I hadn’t seen Maximus since this morning so I had no idea what he was up to. I wished I could take some headache pills and lie down, but I went to the basement level of the house instead. With the chaos of the past two days, I’d never gotten a chance to thank Ben for calling Vlad when the club was attacked. Without that, Vlad might not have arrived in time, and I’d be burned crispy.
When I went into the kitchen, however, no one was there even though it was close to dinnertime. Curious, I followed the sounds of conversation farther down the hall, coming at last to a large, open lounge area.
Ben, Joe, Damon, Kate, and several others were lined up in front of one of the tall windows that, to my surprise, showed trees in the background. Not all of the basement must be underground, but since the house was on a steep hill I supposed that explained it. Sandra sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine, but she smiled when she looked up and noticed me.
“Leila!”
Ben left the window at once. “Hey, girl!”
Soon I was surrounded as the rest of them abandoned their places, too. How happy everyone acted to see me reminded me of the camaraderie the carnies had with each other. I didn’t know these people very well, but they’d clearly accepted me as one of their own. I was so touched, if I wouldn’t have electrocuted them en masse, I would’ve tried for a group hug.
“I’m fine, really,” I said for the third time. “And Ben, thank you so much for calling Vlad and telling him about the attack. He got to me just in time.”
Ben looked abashed. “I didn’t know you were trapped in there. I called Vlad because I was worried about my own ass.”
Sandra elbowed him. “Yet you thought to call. We were too panicked to do that. This is why Vlad rewarded you.”
“He did?” He hadn’t mentioned that.
“Hell yes, he did. Ben will be getting made in the next year!” Joe crowed, thumping Ben on the back.
Maybe I was losing something in the Romanian-to-English translation. “Made what?”
“Into a vampire,” Sandra said proudly.
I was stunned. Ben still looked embarrassed, yet hints of excitement and pride clung to him. Obviously, he’d wanted this.
“Oh,” I said, unsure how to respond. “Congrats.”
“Think about it—next year, you’ll be biting one of us.” Damon grinned as if amused by the prospect. “Just don’t fuck up with Vlad or you’ll be the next one harpooned on a pole.”
“Hey, we’ll miss it,” Joe said, going back to the window.
Everyone else followed except Sandra, who shook her head.
“I don’t like to watch such things. I am surprised you came to see it, Leila.”
“See what?” I asked, getting a sinking feeling in my gut.
Ben turned around from the window. “See Vlad stick Maximus on a pole for leaving you behind in the club.”