"You're one of those. I heard there aren't many that the Council allowed."
"Somebody said there were twenty, I think," Ashe huffed out a breath. "And I don't understand that."
"I heard the Council keeps a tight grip on everything vampire," Wayne said. "But you might know more about that than I do."
"Not likely. They don't hand out much info," Ashe said. "You can always ask Tony Hancock, when he wakes up."
"You don't mess with Tony," Wayne offered sagely. "You don't want to mess with any Council Assassin."
"What? He's an Assassin?" Ashe almost stopped running.
"Yeah. Heard his surrogate sire is, too. You don't get away from those guys if they come after you."
"I feel comforted. Don't you Marco? Don't you feel comforted to know that if they send a vampire Assassin after you, you're toast?" Ashe was grumbling and he knew it. "And it's doubly comforting to know that a vampire Assassin is only steps away while you sleep."
"Ashe, your dad's a vampire. Why are you so concerned?" Wayne asked.
"Let's just say it's inside information." Ashe turned up his speed and loped away from Marco and Wayne.
"I don’t know what set him off," Marco told Winkler later. "Wayne let it slip that Tony is an Assassin for the Council and Ashe just took off. I didn't know he could run like that."
"Marco, there's a lot you don't understand about the vampire race. Hell, there's a lot I don't understand. And I'll have a talk with Wayne. He should never have let that information out. Ashe has enough to worry about."
"What are we not understanding?" The object of discussion, Anthony Hancock, appeared in Winkler's kitchen, watching while Marco dipped out a bowl of rocky road ice cream. "I used to love that stuff," he sighed.
"We're not understanding anything about congress and the price of fossil fuels," Winkler said. "And Ashe has enough to worry about without vampires, werewolves and alien races breathing down his neck."
"With his ability, he has a responsibility," Tony said.
"Hancock, he's sixteen. What were you doing at sixteen, other than playing in a dojo somewhere and giving your parents fits?" Winkler started dipping out ice cream for himself.
"That about sums it up," Tony agreed amiably.
"Did you eat all the strawberry?" Ashe walked into the kitchen.
"I don't think anybody's gotten into it, except Wynter," Winkler grinned. Tony Hancock stood nearby, watching as ice cream was dipped into bowls.
"Do you miss it?" Ashe asked the vampire.
"Yeah. But I hear that goes away after a while. A few hundred years or so."
"That information you gave me? How much did the Council hold back?" Ashe opened the carton of strawberry before grabbing a bowl and spoon.
"That's classified," Tony said.
"Is it? The world gonna implode if I read a fourth page?" Ashe scooped ice cream, a determined set to his mouth.
"Marco, out," Winkler snarled. Marco took his ice cream and left the kitchen quickly.
"Kid, I stopped trying to figure out why the Council does anything," Tony said. "And yes, they might think the world will implode if you read any more."
"That's the story of my life," Ashe's blue eyes gazed coolly into Tony Hancock's gray stare. "Ashe doesn't need to know anything. But he can haul his butt here and there so everybody else gets what they want."
"Kid, that's the way the world works. A few are in charge, the rest of us toil and scurry. And I'm practicing patience right now. If my sire were here, compulsion would be laid and that would be the end of it."
"Yeah? Sounds a little despotic to me." Ashe placed the container of strawberry back in the freezer and grabbed his bowl. "I'll eat this out on the deck," he said, nodding at Winkler.
"This will not be a competition, to see who ends up with him," Tony's growl was almost as good as Winkler's best snarl. "His father is a vampire and required permission from the Council to become a parent."
"Is that why they gave permission? To see if any of the kids turned out to be something they could leisurely take if they wanted? Hancock, even you know that's wrong. When you were turned, you asked for it. You were dying in the rubble of a bombed hotel in Paris. Are you going to ask that kid before you rip his throat out?"
"Nobody will rip his throat out, it's dangerous to turn anyone that way," Tony snapped. "And I won't be the one selected, if it comes to that. It'll be somebody older, with more experience. I've never tried it and honestly, I have no desire to do so."
"They'll send one of those old bastards, then."
"Nothing has been decided. And you're right, he's only sixteen. The rule, as you well know, is eighteen at least."
"How quickly after that are they going to conscript, Hancock? Do you think I'm stupid? That I can't figure out why the Council will assign one of their few Assassins to cool his heels with a werewolf?"
"They sent me because they trust me and I'm not so ancient I have nothing in common with a sixteen-year-old. In their eyes, at least."
"You think you have something in common with Ashe? Do you? He's struggling, Hancock. He's trying to come to terms with his father's placement of compulsion every time the inhabitants of that community see him do something that's considered secret. You didn't see the look on his face when he found out they'd handed the credit to me for rescuing that girl in Amarillo. I had almost nothing to do with that part of it. I just supervised the rounding up of Tanner's rogues afterward."
"If we don't conceal him, the Elemaiya will be all over him," Tony was beginning to show anger. "One side will kill him, the other will likely get him killed, sending him out to do this or that. We need him. We can accomplish so much with his talents."
"Provided he's under Wlodek's thumb."
"I don't know that for sure. Wlodek hasn't said anything."
"Yet."
"I don't see anything happening for a few years unless there's an unfortunate accident."
"I hope I don't see any unfortunate accidents," Winkler gave Tony a hard stare.
"It won't be because I wanted it," the tips of Tony's fangs showed.
"Hey, now, no growling and hissing," Trajan walked in and slapped Tony on the back, breaking the tension.
"What were you talking about before—reading another page?" Marco asked.