"Nevertheless, he is providing valuable information. We cannot discount that, regardless of his purpose. I will keep you informed. I suggest you send someone else to your villa to collect Aubrey's ashes—Radomir placed them in an urn and left it in your suite there."
"Tell your child I thank him for his efforts," René sighed and hung up.
* * *
Lissa? Gabron's voice was echoing in my mind the moment I woke.
Gabron? What do you need? I felt as if my eyes were glued shut and my mouth had a horrible taste in it.
Lissa, I am sorry to wake you. I only wanted to make sure you were safe.
I'm safe, honey. Is that all?
You call me honey? Why is that?
Honestly, I wasn't sure I would ever get the hang of Refizan, its language or its people or vampires. It's an endearment, not an insult.
You are calling me an endearment?
Honey, I call all kinds of people honey. We're not going to pick out matching towels now, I assure you.
Pick out towels?
Never mind. Where are you? I'll come as soon as I get dressed.
I will be in my library. Do not feed, I wish to provide for you when you arrive.
All right. I turned off the mindspeech and went to find my clothes.
Providing for me turned out to be one of the girls from Blue Desire. Well, it was warm blood as opposed to cold and most likely an insult if I were to refuse. "I prefer women," the girl said when Gabron urged her toward me. Well, then, I'd give her the best orgasm I could. She enjoyed it right down to her toenails, which were painted pink and curling when I took from her.
"Thank you," I told her as she planted a kiss I wasn't sure how to return. Gabron shooed her away after that, so I thanked him, too. It was polite.
"The guard was only that and had no knowledge," Gabron got right to business as I sat down on a nearby sofa with him. He might have wanted me to scoot closer, but I didn't. There was a foot and a half distance between us and I was satisfied with that. Yes, I liked Gabron. And maybe in another life, he and I might get close. Just not this one. "Farimak was only interested in his own gain and did not bother to listen to conversations and such—he allowed Mirazal to handle those things. You were correct in your assessment of him, Lissa. He was indeed more stupid than he looked."
"Who knows what they might have done to him," I said, leaning back against the sofa, and allowing my head to fall back. I stared at Gabron's ceiling—artificial lights hung from iron chains at regular intervals. They weren't bright lights, but were tasteful and decorative. Gabron scooted closer.
"Lissa, he no longer has to worry about such things," he said softly, reaching out and touching my hair lightly.
"Gabron, please don't ask for something I can't give," I turned my head to look at him.
"Lissa, please don't stop me from trying for something I want very badly," he replied. As replies went, that one was pretty good.
"I need to go to work," I showed him my new implant.
"I noticed that yesterday," he was still touching my hair, curling a short strand around a finger. Just as a mental side trip, I wondered how many frustrated erections I'd caused since becoming vampire. Gavin alone would account for quite a few, I think. It had to be my scent. I couldn't think of any other reason.
"Thanks for dinner, honey," I patted his cheek and misted away.
* * *
"Do you think you might help me with demons when you finish?" Dragon was wiped. Off-day was tomorrow; at least he'd get some rest (I hoped). Karzac would be working since he'd been off last time.
"Yeah. Let's go kick demon butt. Slice off a few heads. Toss priests into rivers. That sort of thing." I was sweeping the floor as I spoke.
"Just demons tonight, Lissa." Dragon smiled tiredly.
"Honey, you look exhausted," I said. "Why don't you just tell me where they are and I'll go."
"I'm not that tired. The classes are just getting too large to handle, that's all. I have to start turning students away."
"Don't know how to say no, huh?"
"Not to the females. Many of them are desperate—they have children and they want to be able to protect themselves and their offspring."
"Have those ass**les been taking more kids?" I stopped sweeping.
"Up the river," Dragon mumbled.
* * *
"I don't believe this. Drive faster," Tony was nearly shouting as his brother drove through the English countryside, speeding toward London. Tony had the small tracking device in his hand; it began beeping half an hour earlier and now they were on the road, following along. "They must be sending her somewhere else," he grumped as Deryn did his best to merge onto the highway toward London, discovering it was the M20, which soon branched off to the M26, and from there to the M25. "They're going toward Heathrow," Tony said excitedly, pulling out his cell.
* * *
Rear Admiral Dennis Hafer sat in the passenger seat while his temporary assistant drove like a bat out of hades to catch up with Director Hancock's car. His assistant operated as a part-time spy, but he was also a Navy man and discretion itself. "I believe they're driving to the airport," the spy commented, weaving in and out of traffic on the M25.
"They can't have caught up with her already," Hafer muttered. They hadn't seen any evidence of it, but how could he know for sure? He was positive they'd holed up at the bed and breakfast they'd rented; Hancock and the other man hadn't done anything except drive around and sightsee for the past few days. Hafer wasn't interested in who the other man was; probably an agent from somewhere that wasn't likely to be recognized. "Don't lose them, man," Hafer grumped as they swerved around yet another slowly moving van.
* * *
"Is Hafer still following us?" Tony spoke with one of two agents who'd been following the Admiral.
"Like a mosquito after a meal," came the reply. "We've got him in our sights; he doesn't even suspect." The agent had placed a tracking device on the Admiral's rental early on.
"Don't lose him and keep me posted," Tony ended the call.
The drive into London finally caught them up with the Cadillac emitting the signal; Tony got the tag number, running it through his database. It was registered to Franklin Wright, who held a residence in both New York City and a small house in Luddesdown that didn't appear to be occupied, much of the time. Obviously, Franklin Wright wasn't vampire; he was driving during the day and his identification listed him as sixty-three years of age. No vampire would look that old.