Devils and Details (Ordinary Magic #2)

I let the words settle in my brain, trying to make a connection. “In Latin?”

“Yes.” His eyes flicked up to mine, as if that should mean something more to me.

“Rossi was Roman,” I finally said.

Ben nodded slowly. “Yes.”

Okay, but that still didn’t do me a lot of good. “Do you think those words have something to do with Rossi?”

Ben chewed on the corner of his lip, the razor tip of his incisor briefly denting the soft flesh of his mouth.

“Tell her or I will,” Jame rumbled.

Before Ben could say anything, Piper was back. “What can I get you gentlemen?” She set the lemonade and tomato juice down in front of them.

Jame ordered his steak and Ben asked for the fries with a side of Worcestershire sauce.

Piper didn’t even bother writing down the orders, but she did refill my coffee before saying she’d be back in a blink. Then she sashayed off.

“Tell me what?” I asked.

“Rossi makes every family member strip before he allows them to stay in town.”

He delivered it with the same kind of nonchalance one might expect to hear from someone saying shoes must be removed before one was allowed to board a plane. None of the vampires who came to Ordinary were young, either in mind or body, so it wasn’t like he was creeping on minors. Still, it bothered me.

“Why?”

“He doesn’t want to be surprised by anything.”

“Such as?”

“Messages. Things from the past—his past—that might put Ordinary, and all the rest of us in danger.”

“On bodies.” I still wasn’t sure why that was important.

“He...” Ben glanced over at Jame. Jame shifted so that his shoulder was pressed against Ben’s in support. “This isn’t something I’m really supposed to share outside the family.” Ben laughed a little at himself. “But we all know I’m not one to follow the rules.”

Jame’s arm moved and I knew he squeezed Ben’s leg under the table.

“Rossi doesn’t accept every vampire who wants to live in Ordinary. We have to prove ourselves. That we will follow his rules, your rules, and mortal rules. We have to swear loyalty to him, his laws. Things like no hands-on feeding, no kills, no wars. All disagreements are taken to him, and him alone. In return, he swears to keep us fed via blood drives and to protect us from anyone, anything that would want to do us harm.”

“Right,” I said. This was all stuff I knew.

“Have you ever asked yourself who he’s trying to protect us from?”

“Humans?”

His smile was wide and wicked. “Not a lot of humans think we exist.”

“Gods? Werewolves?”

He shook his head. “Gods treat us like any other creature—which is to say we’re basically below their notice. And yeah, there’s tension between weres and vamps. But it’s navigable.”

“Vampire hunters?”

He stilled and his eyes, for a moment went black. “Did he tell you about that?”

“I know they exist.”

“They do.” He licked his lower lip, a little more fang showing. “They’re...that’s not much of a concern to us.”

“All right. I give up. Who is Rossi trying to protect you from?”

“His past.”

“You already said that. Can you be specific?”

“Rossi was turned at the same time as another mortal. They fought in wars together. More than one, through the centuries. They were close. Brothers. Then they had a parting of ways. Rossi thinks he was killed. But there’s a reason Rossi is the prime of our clan. He is a jaded, suspicious old bastard. He never saw the body of his brother-in-arms. Won’t believe he’s dead, and therefore won’t believe he’s not a danger to him or us until he sees his rotting bones.”

“Rossi thinks Lavius is alive?”

“He told you his name?” Ben said that with a sort of stunned reverence. “Holy hell, Delaney. Holy hell.”

“He told me he knew he was dead.”

Ben hummed a little sound of agreement. That must be the line Rossi told everyone. Except, apparently, Ben.

“And why did he tell you something different?”

Ben grinned again. “We’re...uh...close.”

I was trying to picture Ben and Rossi and Jame in a threesome and doing a terrible job at making that work in my head.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m one of his.” At my look he smiled again, but this time it was softer, and so very much older. “He turned me. It was...a long time ago. And it was a gift of sorts.”

“So that makes you blood related?”

Jame chuffed again.

“I’m sort of his only son.”

Wow. That was not in the history books or records that my family kept on Ordinary. I wondered if Dad had known about that. Wondered if Myra knew.

“Do most of the Rossis know this?”

He shrugged and it was the typically graceful, flowing vampire thing. “It’s not a secret. But we don’t exactly hang out in the front yard playing catch either. Our relationship isn’t brought up often.”

“Why?”

“He’s very protective.”

“So the fewer people who know you’re related, the less of a target you are if Rossi’s past comes looking for him?”

“Something like that.”

It both surprised and impressed me. That kind of caution spoke of feelings, maybe even a caring relationship.

It was sweet. Who knew Rossi had it in him?

“Did the words on Sven’s back have something to do with Lavius?”

His gaze dropped and he went back to drawing on the table top. “I don’t know. Maybe. Sven wasn’t as old as me, not nearly as old as Rossi. But I’ve seen those words, written in Latin before.”

“Where?”

“In Rossi’s letters and personal papers. It was used as a closing in several documents.”

“Coincidence?”

Ben stared at me for an extended moment. “I hardly think so. Do you?”

That slightly imperious tone made me curious about which time in history Ben had been originally born into, and what his occupation or social status might have been. Right this moment I’d have said royalty, or maybe snooty school teacher.

“No,” I said. “Coincidence is the one thing I don’t believe in when it comes to Ordinary.”

At that moment, Piper was back, a tray with all of our food balanced on her arm. She placed each order in front of the correct recipient.

“All right then. Is there anything else I can get any of you?”

“This looks great, thanks.” Ben stared at his fries like they were a starving man’s last meal, his fingertips pressed into the table top on either side of the mound of potatoes.

“Thank you,” Jame added, having already cut a chunk from the steak and stuffed it into his mouth.

I gave her a smile. “This is perfect. Say, Piper. When do you get off tonight?”

A little color hit her cheeks, but I couldn’t tell if she was surprised by my question or just overheated from the job. “I’m done at eleven-thirty. Pretty late, unless you’re pulling graveyard shift?”

“No. But if I’m around by then, let’s talk.”

She held very still, studying me like I was a language she couldn’t read. “Sure,” she finally said with a false smile. “Let’s talk. Need steak sauce?”

“No thanks,” Jame said around another bite.

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