"Hafer probably knew Larry was on that boat, didn't he? And even if Rahim or one of the others didn't get that information from Larry, they may have gotten it from Hafer. Which explains why he wanted me so bad." I wanted to get up from the table right then and go looking for the bastard. We had to shut up when the President came on the line. Bill outlined his suspicions and asked for help from the FBI and CIA to pull financial records and such, including any aliases that Hafer might have used. The wheels were turning before Bill stopped talking.
"Lissa, I should have dinner with you more often; I get more work done that way," Bill sighed, slipping his phone in a jacket pocket.
"I remember when you were looking at me like I was the demon from hell du jour when Tony spilled the beans before," I lifted my wineglass in a toast.
"First impressions are often misleading, don't you think?" Bill smiled at me and held up his own glass. "I had no idea what Director Hancock was thinking when he dragged you along with us to Atlanta. You obviously weren't an agent; I could see that from a mile away. I was worried that Tony had developed an infatuation."
"I did, but Lissy wasn't having any of it," Tony grumbled. Gavin gave a satisfied grunt.
"Did you put Tony under compulsion and ask him?" I was now giving Gavin a hard stare. He was deliberately ignoring me. "You did, didn't you? You slime." I slapped him on the arm.
"Cousin, she just called you slime. Are you going to retaliate?" René was enjoying himself. So was Winkler; he was grinning. Our waiter came over and Winkler and Bill ordered dessert; I was too full even to think about it. Too bad Gavin hadn't heard the conversation Winkler and I had in the coffee shop of the hotel before I'd been shot. If Gavin knew that Winkler had offered to take me somewhere so I couldn't be found, I figured the fur would fly.
"I will see about retaliation later," Gavin huffed.
"Uh-huh." I was contemplating misting away, but that would cause chaos, so I left things alone for the moment.
* * *
"I don't think we can save him." The physician was trying to tell Franklin as gently as he could that it was only a matter of time. Greg was dying and there wasn't anything anyone could do.
Merrill's arm was around his human child's shoulders and he was doing his best to comfort Franklin. "Give us a moment, please," Merrill said. The physician nodded and walked out of the counselor's office, leaving Franklin and Merrill alone.
"Son, now is the time if you wish for me to take him and make him vampire," Merrill said softly, pulling Franklin's head against his shoulder.
"I want to but I promised I wouldn't," Franklin sobbed.
"Son, look at me," Merrill lifted Franklin's face. "If I turn him, then you'll have to agree to it, too. It won't do either of you any good if I do one and not the other. That's the way this works. Franklin, decide now if this is what you want."
"I can't do it, father. He said no. I promised."
Merrill sighed. "Child, we will get through this." Merrill kissed Franklin's forehead and pulled him closer. "Come, my child. We will sit with Greg." Franklin wiped his eyes when Merrill handed the handkerchief over, and then Merrill helped him stand and held him up as they made their way down the hospital corridor toward Greg's room.
* * *
"Lissa, I do not call you names when we are with others." Gavin was pointing out something I already knew.
"I know. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Lissa," Gavin sighed. "I know I deserve most of what you level against me, but I would prefer that you do it when we are alone so I feel free to discuss these things with you."
"Are you going to listen or are you going to pretend to listen while you go through baseball stats in your head?" I asked tartly. "Just let me run down until I lose steam, pat me on the head and say that's nice, dear and go on about your business?"
"Lissa, please."
"Please what, Gavin? If you want me to do something or treat you a certain way, then you need to say something. I can't read your mind, you know. All I can do is send mindspeech. Not the same thing."
"Lissa, I am old. Sometimes I do not know how to deal with your youth or your humor. Mostly I have worked alone in the past, only occasionally working with other vampires. Even the ones three or four hundred years of age irritate me at times because they are so young."
"Gavin," I held up my left hand, wiggling his rings with my thumb. "You did this to yourself. Not that I don't love you—I do. I never thought that forty-nine would be young to anyone. In the human way of thinking, that's definitely on the down side. I'm sorry I can't add a thousand years to my life and behave in a more circumspect manner."
"Lissa, I know I am asking the impossible. How can I expect you to force that much time and experience into less than fifty years? I must be the one to develop patience, I think."
"I'm sorry I disappoint you," I muttered and misted away.
Chapter 12
Why pay for an aerial tour of our nation's capital, when you can mist? I might have been brushing away the occasional tear if I'd been anything other than mist. As it is, I got a good view of everything. I saw the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, flew over the Smithsonian (which I still wanted to see, someday) and breezed over the National Mall. I saw all sorts of things until I got to the White House. Been there, done that, I was thinking, until I saw the helicopter out on the helipad and Secret Service surrounding the President. Director Bill Jennings was walking alongside said President.
Bill, I'm misting overhead, I sent to him. What's going on?
Bill broke away from the President's side as soon as I sent mindspeech and he was waving his arms, shouting, and then making gestures toward the sky, motioning me down. I went. I didn't know what those Secret Service guys thought when I suddenly appeared right next to Director Bill, but a barked "stop" from the President kept me from being shot again.
The helicopter was making a bit of noise—it was revving up. "Lissa, please say you can come along!" Bill's jacket was whipping about in the winds created by the rotor blades and he was shouting to make himself heard. "I wanted to bring you, but I couldn't get the others to agree or stay behind and the President didn't want a committee."
"I'll come," I nodded. Gavin and Wlodek would make sure there was hell to pay later, but then there was always hell to pay, no matter what I did. "Where are we going?" I thought to ask as Bill hauled me toward the President and the waiting helicopter.