Blood Eternal (36 page)

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Authors: Marie Treanor

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal

BOOK: Blood Eternal
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“It’s quiet during the day,” Konrad reassured him, “and the staff is largely human.”
István, studying the detectors lined up in his backpack as they trudged upstairs, said, “One Ancient, one ordinary vampire. Some distance apart.”
Elizabeth saw him at once, seated by the bar. Her heart leapt into her throat. Pure longing drowned her lingering resentment, and she had to force herself not to run to him. But although he must have been aware of their entrance, he didn’t turn. Was he angry with her? How could she tell if he chose to hide it? Would it impact his dealings with the hunters?
No. Whatever else he is, he’s not trivial.
He appeared to be in conversation with the girl behind the bar, who gazed into his eyes with undisguised worship. At the very least, another blood source, Elizabeth thought savagely, before she remembered that Angyalka allowed no feeding on the premises. She sniffed.
Saloman wore black. He resembled a panther as he slid off his stool and walked to greet them, all sleek, lethal grace and rippling muscle beneath his silk shirt. Although his veiled gaze scanned them all equally, Elizabeth’s breath caught as his glance glided over her. A frisson of electricity twisted around her spine, distracting her from the point of this meeting. Since Konrad stepped back in distaste, Elizabeth performed the briefest of introductions.
“Lazar, Saloman,” she muttered.
Saloman inclined his head. “Please sit down,” he invited with perfect courtesy, indicating the nearest booth. “Katalin will bring coffee.”
Lazar, who’d never before had the pleasure of Saloman’s overwhelming company, closed his mouth and did as he was told, although he didn’t once take his gaze off Saloman. They sat in silence while the coffee was served and the waitress, Katalin, retreated back to the bar.
Then Saloman sat back and regarded Lazar once more. “How can I help you?”
Since he didn’t have his usual, much-abused pen in hand, Lazar was reduced to drumming his fingers on the table. “I need to know what’s going on,” he said abruptly. “Do you know about this vampire Elizabeth saw openly feeding last night? Apparently in some kind of relationship with his victim? We have an increasing number of victims who’re remembering attacks. It’s as if vampires are no longer bothering to cover their tracks.”
Saloman continued to regard him, as if waiting for more. Not by as much as a flicker of an eyelash did he reveal that he knew nothing of Elizabeth’s story. At last, he observed, “You appear to know exactly what’s going on.”
“But why?” Lazar demanded, leaning forward with sudden aggression. He’d been a field hunter; he was surrounded by his colleagues; he didn’t feel threatened by Saloman. “Have you told them they don’t need to be afraid of us anymore? Are you trying to provoke a war with humanity by bringing vampires into the open?”
“No,” Saloman said mildly when Lazar paused for breath.
Mihaela said, “And the two young women who disappeared after a night out on Wednesday? Have they taken up with vampires too? Do you know anything about them?”
They were the likeliest victims that had come out of Elizabeth’s suggestion this morning, and she hadn’t given up hope that they might lead to Luk.
“No,” Saloman said. “I don’t, but they might well be worth tracking to get to Luk. Wednesday was the night he attacked Elizabeth. He used a lot of energy and would have needed a lot of blood to recover.”
Mihaela nodded once, perhaps by way of thanks, and absently picked up her coffee cup.
Lazar said, “Can we stick to the point, here? Why are the vampires changing their behavior?”
“The world is changing,” Saloman said. “And rightly so. Stagnation is never good.”
“Is it your doing?” Lazar persisted.
Saloman drank his coffee. Elizabeth watched his elegant fingers and the grip of his lips on the cup, remembering quite inappropriately how they felt on her body. A rush of tangled emotion tugged at her. She quashed it ruthlessly.
“Is it my doing?” Saloman repeated as Lazar shifted restively. “Yes.” His gaze swept around them all and he set down his cup. “You want me to elaborate? Very well. I have, more or less, stopped the vampire killings. Most vampires have learned that they do not need to kill to survive, and that not killing brings them less trouble from you.” He smiled faintly. “And from me. As a result, many have stopped regarding themselves as a threat to humanity, and if they are no threat, why should they hide? Why should they not have human friends? A human lover for sex and feeding? If the human is willing, it solves many problems.”
“It’s bringing them into the
open
,” Lazar said intensely.
“Yes,” Saloman agreed. “It is. It’s begun in Romania and in Hungary, because that’s where I first imposed my will, but it’s already spreading. And on top of this, there are growing rumors from Turkey, where the depredations of the rebels could not be entirely covered up by hunters—one good to have been achieved from that mess.”
“Oh, shit,” said Konrad with feeling.
“You
want
this,” Lazar accused.
“Yes, I do,” Saloman said. “And so should you. It’s a natural progression.”
“There will be carnage!” Lazar exploded. “In their panic, humans will rampage through your population, and I really don’t see you accepting
that
as progression. There will be war, apocalyptic war—”
“You paint a worst-case scenario,” Saloman interrupted. “With the same arguments I heard in the seventeenth century. What you have just now is a tiny trickle of information, a tiny proportion of people who’ve been made aware one way or another of the existence of vampires. None of them, I believe, has set out on a killing spree or sought to convince the general population. It seems to me what you need here is a policy, a strategy for gradually educating humanity.”
Lazar’s eyes flickered to Elizabeth and Mihaela. Since it wasn’t the first time he’d heard this point of view, he might be more amenable to Saloman’s suggestions.
“There are several things it would help you to consider,” Saloman continued. “First, what vampires can and should do for the world we all inhabit. My people have lived in chaos for too long to be properly aware of the gifts they may possess, but in time we can help you increasingly with predictions of natural disasters, with matters involving tracking—mountain rescue, apprehension of criminals, finding lost children, and maybe even with healing, although that is a rare gift that may have been lost altogether.
“Second, if we live in peace together, we can pool resources to eradicate crime in both our communities. It needn’t be a matter of human versus vampire.
“Third, tolerance is only ever achieved through knowledge.
“And fourth, we have the means to begin this in a gradual way, introducing ourselves first to those who already have an inkling of the paranormal, those humans who share an Ancient gene. Like Elizabeth and Josh Alexander.”
In spite of herself, Elizabeth’s heart jolted at the sound of her name on his lips.
“And Grayson Dante,” Mihaela said wryly.
“Grayson Dante will not be a problem for much longer,” Saloman said with such quiet certainty that, beside her, Lazar shivered.
“Your justice isn’t ours,” he warned. “We will never condone a vampire killing a human, for whatever reason.”
Saloman raised one eyebrow. “Then you must stop condoning the murder of vampires without reason.”
“There is always a reason,” Lazar snapped.
“No, there isn’t,” Elizabeth said quietly. They all turned to stare at her in surprise, but, leaving all personal matters aside, she’d already chosen the side she believed was right for the world. Avoiding Saloman’s piercing gaze, she said more strongly, “You said I should have killed that vampire last night, when he was doing no harm.”
“He was feeding from a human!”
“With consent,” Elizabeth argued. “And consider this: If vampires are feeding with consent, then they’re less likely to do it
without
consent.” Before Lazar could explode, she gave him a quick, friendly nudge that seemed to take the wind out of his sails. “Look, all of this takes time. No one’s advocating television announcements or teaching this stuff in schools, but I think Saloman’s right. The world
is
changing, and it’s up to all of us to make sure that’s for the better. We need to adjust our thinking to reconsider what is actually wrong. Because I’d say this cat’s climbing out of the bag anyway.”
Lazar looked slightly baffled by her last words until Mihaela translated curtly, “Secret’s getting out.”
Saloman stood up. It was, Elizabeth thought, a measure of the hunters’ unconscious acceptance of him that only Lazar shot to his feet in instinctive defense.
Saloman said, “All I ask at this time is that you discuss these matters with your colleagues. I have enjoyed our conversation and I hope we can talk again soon.” He inclined his head to Lazar and to the hunters. His gaze lingered on Elizabeth an instant longer than was strictly necessary, and yet there was no invitation there, no telepathic message, not even a command she could defy. She felt like a mesmerized rabbit. Then he released her and simply turned away.
As Saloman strolled back toward the bar, Elizabeth said brightly to Lazar, “Well? Did that help?”
“No.” Lazar groaned. “It’s just given me another headache.”
Konrad stood abruptly. “Come on; let’s go and track down these missing girls. I would
so
love to find Luk before
he
does.”
And without Saloman, what the hell are you going to do with him?
she wondered.
Chapter Seventeen
 
M
ihaela’s front door was opened by a handsome stranger.
Startled, Elizabeth snatched at the stake in her pocket. “Where’s Mihaela?” she demanded.
“Kitchen!” came Mihaela’s amiable if distant voice.
“Oh.” Feeling a trifle foolish, Elizabeth released the stake. At least she hadn’t actually threatened Mihaela’s guest with it.
The handsome stranger smiled, opening the door wider. “You must be Elizabeth. Sorry to startle you.”
Elizabeth walked into the hall just as Mihaela stuck her head out of the kitchen to say, “Elizabeth, Rikard Varga. Oh, and this is Rikard’s brother, Tarcal,” she added as another man strolled out of the living room, wineglass in hand. The brothers were in their thirties, blond and good-looking. Hiding her surprise, Elizabeth took off her jacket and delivered her bottle of wine to Mihaela in the kitchen.
“You didn’t tell me you were having other guests,” she said.
“Hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be the best way to avoid us talking shop.”
Elizabeth sighed. Talking would get them nowhere anyway. They’d found someone who’d seen the missing women with a shadowy man she couldn’t describe. It had to be Luk, masking, but the discovery had gotten them no farther forward. The women had disappeared as completely as Luk.
“Good plan,” Elizabeth said ruefully. She lowered her voice. “Who are they? Are you seeing one of them?”
“Not in that way,” Mihaela said, with a hint of regret. “I met Tarcal at the gym. He has a long-term girlfriend, but we go for drinks occasionally—which is how I met his brother. Who is unattached,” she added with a quick grin. As Rikard chose that moment to wander into the tiny kitchen, she dropped the conspiratorial tone to say lightly, “Rikard is a doctor.”
“You too, I understand,” Rikard said to Elizabeth.
“Yes, but not of the medical variety.”
“Rikard, will you pour Elizabeth some wine?” Mihaela asked, opening the oven door. “Go through to the living room. It’s boiling in here.”
Although Elizabeth couldn’t help feeling a trifle annoyed that her comfortable night in with Mihaela had been hijacked by complete strangers, she quickly found the Varga brothers to be rather charming, intelligent, well-read, and amiable. And as the four of them sat around the table, chatting over Mihaela’s delicious dinner, Elizabeth acknowledged that it was an unexpectedly fun way to spend the evening, well away from vampires, missing women, and the pain of a love that seemed impossible either to bear or to forsake.
Tarcal, she reckoned, was a born flirt, which was both flattering and fun, since he divided his attention pretty evenly between Elizabeth and Mihaela; but Rikard seemed a more serious character. He specialized in pediatrics.
“I imagine that can be distressing at times,” Elizabeth remarked.
“It can be. Mostly it’s rewarding, though. I love working with kids.”
“You’ll get sick of it when you have your own,” Tarcal interpolated with a quick grin.
“Are you planning on it?” Elizabeth asked, a little amused.
“One day. I hope so, yes.” Rikard hesitated, then confided, “To be honest, that’s why my wife and I split up. She’s a surgeon too, and didn’t want to halt her career to have kids.” He put down his fork and smiled in a self-deprecating sort of way. “But that’s an oversimplification, isn’t it? Let’s say the problems in our relationship were highlighted by our disagreement over kids.”

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