Solomon's Sieve (17 page)

The article was supported with
photos of the archeological site. The most interesting, by far, was a detailed close up of one of the skeletons. Dirt and debris had been brushed away, but it was otherwise untouched.

When she had digested the memo, Mercy put it down on the table in front of her. Monq noticed that her hand continued to rest on the paper after she looked up at him.

“Very interesting. Certainly I understand how my specialty might dovetail this discovery. What I don’t understand is why a philanthropic institution might be investigating Dark Age beliefs in vampires,” she caught herself, “um, vampire, and practices of rites of disposition.”

Monq sat back in his chair. “What if I told you that vampire are as real as you and I?”

She didn’t laugh, but did look around the room, almost as if she was scanning for hidden cameras. Perhaps either consciously or subconsciously that’s exactly what she was doing.

“I would say that I have absolutely no reason to believe that might be true.”

“Fair enough. A prudent answer and wise as well. Should I take that to mean that you discount my claim as patently false or that you are reserving judgment?”

She pursed her lips. “If you’re asking if I’m able to keep an open mind, that is the very nature of science, even social sciences such as anthropology. I will proceed with an assumption that vampire stories are myths until I’m persuaded by evidence to the contrary.”

Monq smiled. “What sort of evidence would convince you?”

She cocked her head. “Well, an actual vampire…”

“Are you the sort of person who is self-aware enough to know that you would, in fact, believe your own eyes if you were face to face with a vampire?”

“Look here, Dr. Monq. I’d like to know where this is going.”

“Well, Dr. Renaux, I’m attempting to establish that you will accept the presence of an actual vampire as evidence. Before I go to the trouble of showing you one.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Well, either say, yes, a vampire will convince you or, no, it would take more than that.”

“I will give you a non-prejudicial commitment to believe what I see pending such an event as you producing a vampire. By all means, please proceed.”

Monq
glanced at his watch, stood and pulled out his phone. He quickly factored for the time difference and determined that Baka’s team would be going out on patrol.

“Baka. I’m in need of a quick demonstration. Could you please send Javier to my office?” He began to pace. “Yes. I know the last time you sent them here there was the devil to pay for it, but this time he is not only expected, but invited. I only need him for a minute
to convince a young lady that vampire do exist. Please make sure he understands it is not an invitation to the, uh, dance.” He looked over at Mercy. “Yes. I got it. As a matter of fact, this has to do with that.” Pause. “Good.”

He put the phone back in his pocket, sat down, and began drumming his fingers on the table lightly.

Mercy stared at Monq, hoping he would take the hint that she was expecting him to speak. When it became clear that he had nothing to say, she decided to take control of the conversation. “I don’t mean to seem impatient, but what are we doing now? Waiting for a vampire to appear out of thin air?”

Just as Monq opened his mouth to answer, Javier appeared next to them, out of thin air, with a charming smile and an enthusiastic, “Salut!”

Mercy shrieked and scrambled backward with the intention of standing, but lost control of the wheels on her chair. She came to rest on the floor looking up at a handsome teenager.

Javier leaned down and offered his hand to help her up. “Sorry,
mademoiselle,” he said with a heavy, and unmistakably sexy, French accent. “I am clumsy. Please do not allow me to also be rude.”

He offered his hand, which looked perfectly innocent, and smiled. When Mercy’s heart rate and breathing began to resume normalcy, she reached to take his hand. As he helped her up he never broke eye contact. She was halfway up when he grinned, showing sparkling white fangs with points that looked as sharp as ice picks. She shrieked, for the second time in her life. Prior to that interview she wouldn’t have been able to describe exactly what a shriek was or how one sounded. Out of reflex she brought her hands up and pushed away from Javier, which meant that she’d landed on her ass, on the floor, twice in under a minute.

She heard Monq chuckle, which was a gift because it made her mad. And anger replacing fear was a good thing. Her head whipped toward the sound of mirth. “What exactly is so funny?”

“I hope you’ll forgive me. Someday. It’s just that you were so well put together, in every way, and then you were on the floor making that noise that, well, I’m not sure what that was.” He dropped his head in an effort to suppress more chuckles.

She got to her feet and glared at Javier. “So you’re supposed to be the vampire, are you?” Javier simply smiled and shrugged a shoulder as elegantly as a Bolshoi dancer. “Open your mouth.”

Javier looked at Monq, seemingly for confirmation that he should obey the highly strung female. Monq nodded.

Mercy tilted Javier’s head back and felt all around the gum from which his left fang protruded. Javier looked at Monq questioningly as if to ask him to put a stop to the examination. When she was satisfied that the fangs were not surgical implants, she withdrew her hand, but scraped it on the way by. The fangs were every bit as sharp as they appeared to be.

She saw a thin line of blood begin to well from the scratch. “Ouch. How do you manage to not constantly be cutting yourself open?”

Mercy looked up for Javier’s response, but what she saw stopped her breath. The vampire’s interest was rapt and focused on her wound. His eyes had also gone dark and hooded, while his breathing became deeper and faster. She wasn’t big on expletives, but that didn’t keep one word from echoing around the space her brain occupied.
Shit.

“
Let’s assume I believe you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a more personal demonstration? Javier would be happy to show you that he can bite without pain and without much damage.”

“The demo was bloody convincing, I assure you.”

Monq laughed. “Bloody convincing. I like your sense of humor, Dr. Renaux.” To Javier, he said, “Thank you for your help. That will be all.”

Javier seemed mesmerized by the blood. He didn’t move or look away from Mercy and had Monq thinking that he should have asked for the older vampire, Jean-Etienne. “Javier!”

Javier grabbed her finger, stuck it in his mouth and closed his eyes in ecstasy.

“She said no, Javier. Cease that sucking at once!”

Javier slid his tongue along the finger that Mercy was too spellbound to retract while holding her gaze and said, “Your coloring is magnifique, mademoiselle. It reminds me of autumn in Paris. Your ancestors were from Normandie, no?”

“Thank you, Javier. That will be all,” Monq repeated more firmly.

Javier dragged
his eyes away from his prey reluctantly and shot Monq a look that gave him pause. It was a look that implied, “Just because I look like an adolescent human doesn’t mean that I am one. Just because I’m typically affable doesn’t mean that’s my only side. So watch yourself, mortal.”

The vampire
kissed Mercy’s hand, his eyes not leaving hers. “Should you ever require my company, I will be at your service, beautiful lady.”

Throwing a last look
of longing toward Mercy, the young immortal vanished.

She stared at the space he’d occupied for a full minute after he’d disappeared before shaking herself and saying, “Geez. What would have happened if I’d said
yes
to the expanded demo? Never mind. I don’t really want an image of that. I actually couldn’t look away. ” She shook her head. “Worse. I didn’t
want
to look away. All I can say is, wow.”

“They are, apparently, made for seduction and, I’ve been told, they can be quite difficult to resist.” Monq waved toward the chairs in front of the fire. “Please sit.”

Monq asked for a fresh pot of Earl Grey, took his seat and waited for Mercy to calm. Within the hour he was telling the story of Count Jungbluth, Dankvart der Recke, and the founding of Black Swan.

Sitting in Monq’s study on a rainy afternoon, sipping tea with a heavy and heavenly aroma of bergamot, in front of a realistic-looking gas fire, she fell under the spell of Monq’s baritone and was enthralled by the recitation of Black Swan’s beginning. When he finished, she sat still and quiet for some time longer, wishing there was more and not wanting the experience to end. Monq sat watching, patiently waiting for her reaction.

Finally she said, “I have a question that’s really neither here nor there, but if you wouldn’t mind indulging me.”

“Of course.”

“Do you know of someone named Rafael Nightsong?”

Acting was not on Monq’s incredibly long list of impressive accomplishments so Mercy noticed the slight widening of his eyes at the mention of the knight’s name.

“I must amend my response. What I meant to say was of course I will answer any and all of your questions after you have accepted our offer and given your vows of loyalty and secrecy.”

Mercy leaned over and placed her Rosenthal tea cup on the table nearest her right hand before looking back at Monq.

“I agree to the assignment and to your terms. I also give you my pledge of loyalty and secrecy. When do you want me to begin?”

“Welcome to The Order of the Black Swan, my dear. We’re honored to have you with us. Normally vows of loyalty and secrecy are made formally with witnesses and signatures, but I have a good feeling about your sincerity.

“As to when we would like you to begin,” he looked at his watch, “eighteen hours ago.”

Mercy felt the laugh bubbling up. It was out before she knew it. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Dr. Monq, but people are counting on me to fulfill previously made commitments to the university.”

“Yes, well, please forgive me for saying so. Likewise, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but the interests of The Order of the Black Swan are more important and you’re the right person for this job.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her. “Do you know Dr. Fornizia? Universidad de Sao Paulo?”

Mercy sat back looking a little confused, but willing, for the moment, to indulge Monq by letting him lead the conversation in what would seem to be a strange and unrelated direction. “In my field, I would have had to be spending the last ten years in a hermit cave to not have heard of him. Why?”

“He’s prepared to move his projects to Columbia and take over your classes and other duties until such time as you may wish to return.”

She couldn’t have been more astonished if she’d been instantly transported to the Congo and met by Dr. Livingstone. “When?”

“Immediately.”

“What makes you think that will be cleared with the school?”

Monq laughed and waved dismissively. “Not a problem. We have ways.”

She mulled it over while studying Monq’s face. Would she ever forgive herself if she passed up what seemed to be the offer of an adventure of a lifetime? The answer was no. She wouldn’t.

“Okay then.”

Monq smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Okay then. Go home and pack as if you were vacationing and spelunking in Eastern Europe. Gather the research tools of your preference. Anything you need and don’t own personally can be expensed.”

“Anything?”

He nodded. “Anything.” He started to stand and show her the door.

“Wait a minute.” He sat back down. “Rafael Nightsong?”

“Oh, yes. Indeed I do know him.”

She searched Monq’s face. “He’s a vampire hunter, isn’t he?”

Monq cocked his head. “He told you that?”

“I met him under, um, unusual circumstances. He didn’t think he’d be believed. And he wasn’t.”

“I see.” Monq sounded concerned.

“By the way, did anything unusual happen on March 2nd? Anything that would cause Mr. Nightsong to look like he had barely survived Armageddon?”

“
Sir
Nightsong.” She raised an eyebrow at that. “March 2
^nd
? Not precisely, but the night before this entire building was under attack and was practically reduced to rubble.” She nodded, looking thoughtful. “I take it that, when you met him, he looked the worse for wear?”