Authors: Michele Drier
“OK, Maxie. I’m going to stay and see what I can find.” His eyes roved the crowded dance floor and his shoulders arm-danced. “See you later,” and he slithered toward the bar.
Once outside in the clear, cold air, I remembered again that smoking was still a staple in this part of the world. Suddenly, Hermann opened the limo door, shoved me into the back, hopped in after me and rattled off instructions into his communicator. The demon driving knew Krakow, because he took off and floored it while maneuvering through the narrow, twisty streets of the old town.
Both Hermann and Ludwig were talking top speed into communicators while checking their Sig Sauers for ammo magazines. I twisted around and saw headlights behind us, getting closer, but couldn’t tell what kind of vehicle it was.
“Who is it?” It was useless for me to ask. English wasn’t a viable language for these demons, so hanging on and hoping was the best alternative I had. The chase only lasted a few minutes. The driver headed for a gated door into an underground garage and, at the last second, the door rolled up, we were through and the door slammed down again.
We circled down a floor, parked next to an elevator, Hermann practically shoved me out and into the elevator and punched a button. That’s when I realized we were in the hotel, in an elevator that only went to the penthouse suite. And me, thinking we’d checked into a hotel just like normal people. Life with the vampires was never dull.
Once in the suite, the demons called Sandor to report in. That, of course, alerted Jean-Louis, who called my cell, frantic.
“What happened? The last report I got was only a student protest over zlotys! Who was it?”
I couldn’t tell him because I didn’t know. “I only saw headlights through the rear window. Hermann and Ludwig were on their communicators, but they weren’t speaking English, or even Hungarian. I don’t know the demon who was driving, but he knew what he was doing.”
“I’m getting reports from Sandor. Some of the demons stationed in Poland are tracking the car now. I’ll call you again when I have more information. By the way, where’s Francois?”
Francois? I hadn’t a clue. “I’m not sure. I’ll find him and get back to you.”
Beyond calling Francois’ cell, I didn’t even know how to look for him. I got his voicemail. I called Victor also, with the excuse of checking with Francois on some of the images. He hadn’t seen Francois. I could have used a little vampire mind-reading right about now.
Finally, Hermann got off the call to Sandor and I asked him how I could find Francois. “He is with other demons, chasing the car. They will call when catched.”
Well, with a vampire and a few demons after them, whoever was following us was probably sorry now.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Francois showed up about 3 a.m.
“Well, Maxie, an interesting night,” was what he said by way of greeting.
“So, interesting can cover a multitude of sins, and a lot of meanings. What the hell happened? When I left, you were trolling the bar for a hot one.”
He gave a quick grin and nodded. “I was. And I’d found one. Not a donor, well not yet, but possibilities. And then my cell rang and that was the end of that. Hermann had called in support, a car was waiting and we were less than five minutes behind you.”
Damn the vampire, he was cagey enough that I still didn’t know whether his intended prey was male or female.
“So who was it?”
“Who was what? Oh, you mean following you? It was a low-ranking Huszar with two Chechens. We caught up with them when they slowed to try and figure out how to breach the security gate. Took ‘em off to a little place down by the river. Had a little chat.” Francois was relishing the 1930s movie gangster-speak.
“Are they dead?”
“The two Chechens are. I thought that was a good message to go back to their pals. Sure, the Huszars may pay well, but the thugs are losing soldiers, too. We sent the Huszar back with a serious case of silver poisoning. A little pay-back for Nikoly.”
That was our answer then. Huszars and Chechens hacked our computers and sent fake emails out. And they were working together. It was time to discuss this with Jean-Louis.
We called him, gave him the bare bones. He’d get the IT guys going on tracing the email path, close down the hacked sites and set up new ones. He’d call another meeting with Karoly and some of his followers, he’d get Chaz and Carola in L.A. started on a disinformation campaign and we’d have a giant strategy meeting tomorrow night at the castle.
With that, I went to bed. For Francois, it was mid-afternoon, but I’d been up since 7 a.m., first getting ready for the meeting with Victor, then the tour of Krakow, the runway show, the party and the chase scene. I was wiped.
I ordered the plane for 10 a.m., figuring that I’d get back to the castle in time for a nap before the big meeting, but got hit with a ton of calls and emails. Jazz was concerned because L.A. was planning to use images from the Krakow show, but was still under the impression that they may have been shot by a pool photographer. And while I had her on Skype, Chaz joined the conversation, which meant that I had to go over the talk with Victor, and the resolution, with both of them.
“And Chaz, we need to draw up some sort of contract language that we’ll cover Ludvoc Designs’ show for the next three years. But keep any language out of it about using the images. If what I saw last night is any indication, they’re a talented group and will do well. If for some reason they don’t hit the big time, we don’t want to get stuck running pictures of nobodies at sparsely attended shows in Poland. Promoting good will with our allies isn’t the purpose of SNAP.”
Then there was time spent with Taras. He, too, had heard about the chase and wanted to find out if any of the Chechens were from Kiev. I couldn’t answer that and turned him over to Sandor, who may have been able to track down the dead. Taras’ fear was that if the dead guys were part of the Ukraine branch, they may set up retaliation and he could get caught in a cross-fire that wasn’t of his making.
After he talked with Sandor, he called back to say that they’d tracked the dead Chechens to Georgia. “I can bet the head guys aren’t happy with dead soldiers, but at least we’re not the shooters in Ukraine. Things are heating up, so please take care of yourself.”
Great, was someone I hardly knew treating me like a victim now? Then I did a mental head-slap. That was just a polite thing to say. Now that I was feeling in control again, I didn’t need to sabotage myself with fears and doubts.
Then there was a call to Francois. He wasn’t back in the office yet, but they expected him late that night. So I called his cell and left a voicemail.
By this time, I only had an hour to get ready for dinner and the meeting. It was enough time that I let Elise pamper me by running a bath instead of a quick shower, but it left me so relaxed I asked her to make me an espresso as well.
I went for dressy business, with a silk suit, but stuck with flats again. Just as I was finishing my make-up, Francois called. “Allo, Maxie, are you rested after our fun last night?”
“Fun? I’m not sure I’d call it that. Are you on your way back to the office?”
“
Mais, non
. I’m staying in Krakow another night.”
“Why? Is the photographer still shooting?”
“No, we got plenty last night and some today at a lunch show they put on. I have some unfinished business.”
“Oh, Francois, you’re not going after the Chechens again! Taras said they’re pissed.”
“No, this is my own unfinished business. You remember I saw someone at the bar?”
The lights went on, but how could I find out if it was a man for a woman?
None of my business, I finally decided.
“Have a good time, then! I hope I’ll see you soon,” and I signed off with a big air kiss as Jean-Louis came in.
“That better have been one of us,” he smiled.
God, it was good to see him! I moved from behind the desk to the living room where Elise had put my coffee, but had to sit down again. Just seeing him made my legs weak.
“Yep, that was Francois. He’s staying in Krakow another night. He’s found somebody he wants to pursue.”
Jean-Louis threw back his head and laughed. The good humor and safety of the castle brought back his glimmer and now his aura shimmered around him. “That boy, he needs to be careful. Hasn’t he seen what happens when he gets mixed up with a regular? I’d think that my example would be enough to scare him off.”
“What’s that crack supposed to mean? Have I been a drag on you?”
“Hah, I knew that’d get a rise out of you! Now that you’re stronger, stand up so I can hold you and welcome you home properly.”
Home?
I stood up, feeling short in my flats, and wound my arms around his neck. We’d deal with the “home” issue later. He leaned over me and gave me a kiss that took my breath away as his tongue probed my mouth and he gently sucked my bottom lip between his teeth.
“Stop, stop,” I managed to gasp.
He pulled back and looked at me, hurt beginning to grow in his eyes. “You want me to stop?”
“Just for now. If that keeps up, in one minute I’m going to strip my clothes off and ruin my hair and makeup that Elise slaved over.” Since he’d pulled back slightly, I was able to take a deep breath. “My love, I can’t keep you and business together in my head right now. This is not an area I can multi-task in. It’s either you or the Baron, dinner and the meeting. Just being in the same room with you tonight is going to be hard for me.”
The hurt faded from his eyes and was replaced with impish humor. “Ah ha, I have you in my power and later tonight I will have my way with you!”
“Is that a promise?”
“Oh, yes, yes it is, love. But for now, dinner and a command performance.” He opened the door with a flourish and a demon fell into the room.
“I am so sorry, Jean-Louis.” The demon was stammering in his embarrassment. “Sandor ordered me to come and get you. They are waiting dinner.”
“Well, tell Sandor that we’re on our way,” my glorious vampire said as he took my arm.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Dinner passed peacefully enough.
Afterward, we watched the L.A. show that included footage of the Ludvoc’s Spring Show. Francois had done a superb job assigning sites for the photographers, and Krakow’s medieval Main Market was a spectacular backdrop to the gauzy fashions. He even had a short video clip, a mini-tour of the city, which showed it off and anchored that it was a World Heritage Site in viewer’s minds.
By 11 p.m. we were ready for our guests, so Sandor and Jean-Louis headed down the tunnel. They were back shortly with Karoly, Alessandr, Bohdan and another, introduced as
Volodymyr Antonovych
, who was from Russia but had been turned in Georgia. He wasn’t a Chechen, but had spent time in Chechnya so understood the tribal patterns and loyalties.
This was going to be a little tricky with languages, so we had two simultaneous translators, demons who were fluent in many of the Eastern European languages. Jean-Louis would translate into English for me, as I seemed to be the lightning rod for the current unpleasantness.
We started with the kidnap attempt in Kiev. Jean-Louis gave a detailed account, including Nikoly’s bout with silver poisoning. I was surprised that he’d willingly let this information out, but he must have felt the Huszars could be trusted.
There was some brief talk about Leonid, who apparently was in the dog house with Matthais for letting us get away. Volodymyr said something in a spate of Russian that turned out to be a discourse on the fact that the Chechens wouldn’t let their soldiers die without retribution.
With that piece of cheery news, we segued into the incident in Krakow. The IT guys had pinged the fake email and the path led right back to a computer at Matthias’ castle, surprise, surprise.
“What does Matthais stand to gain with this?” Jean-Louis looked honestly puzzled. “He has to know that tracking an email back to its true point of origin is easy.”
“It’s not a ruse, it’s more of a...a...point of annoyance.” Karoly was speaking English for my benefit. “He figures if you get upset, you’ll spend time and effort on tracking it, a deflection from his primary plan.”
“And that is?” The Baron hadn’t said a word but now it seemed he needed to take the lead. “We have so many red herrings that finding our way through is getting tedious.”
Karoly sighed and dropped back in Hungarian. With Jean-Louis translating in my ear, the Huszar said, “Ultimately he wants to destroy you, all of you.” Karoly looked around the room and registered the Baron, Pen, Jean-Louis, Bela, Milos, me and Sandor, respectfully standing guard at the door. “Not only does he want what you have—the wealth, standing, clout—but all of you personally. Many of us don’t understand where his hatred comes from.”
“I do,” said Jean-Louis, then nodded at the Baron. “We do. And it’s not a tale we want to tell now.”
It must have been a deep and very dark secret. This was the second time Jean-Louis alluded to it, then refused to go there.
“Beyond that, where is he headed?”
The Huszars exchanged looks. Karoly began. “He had two plans, no, paths, to get to the same end. He’s going to throw up as many small incidents as he can, to keep you busy putting out small fires. He’s hoping that you’ll miss the big one. The big one is him taking over the management and ownership of SNAP.”
Jean-Louis choked on his sip of Bulls’ Blood. “Take over the management? He doesn’t know the first thing about running SNAP!”
“No, but you have how many employees? Twenty-thousand, 30,000 around the world.? And how many of them are regulars? And how many of them can do their jobs regardless of who the CEO is? All he needs to do, he thinks, is take some of your top management, replace it with Huszars who have some training, and SNAP goes on.”
He turned to me. “That’s why you’re so important to his plan. Most of the top management are Kandeskys; you’re one of the few regulars. You won’t have the strength that the vampires have to resist him. Even if you don’t agree to work with him, he can surmount your defenses and go into your mind, your memories, your knowledge. If he can suck your abilities, he, or someone he appoints, can do your job as well as you can.”