Tales of the Otherworld (47 page)

When we arrived home, via taxi, Savannah was asleep. Cassandra was still awake, which was to be expected. She slept little these days, a symptom of the condition she refused to acknowledge—her impending death.

She wanted to know whether I’d heard back from Sullivan at the
Middleton Herald.
I remembered then that I’d turned off my cell phone for dinner. When I checked, I found Sullivan had indeed called. The police had acted on his tip and must have already found the evidence they needed to support our theory, because as of midnight, Teresa Arnell, Greg Regis, and a second man had been arrested.

I phoned my father. He must have already been on a call because his voice mail came on immediately. I left a message and said if he needed more information to contact me tonight. Otherwise I’d be at the office by eight to oversee the vampire’s release.

Cassandra was satisfied with this, so Paige and I headed upstairs. We engaged in more “physical therapy” before bed. By the time we finished, I could view the events of the evening calmly, too drained and sated to work up any emotional response.

“He’s right,” I said, lying in the dark. “That
is
what I want. What I dream of. Not within a Cabal, of course. But working together, in an office, here in Portland …”

Her fingers clasped mine.

I turned. “Do you know what I was thinking when I saw that office? I couldn’t have designed it better myself.”

“You know what I was thinking?” She looked over at me. “With a shared office that big, we could fit in a futon and screen. Maybe even a bed.”

I laughed, and her hand tightened on mine.

“That’s the plan,” she said softly. “We’ve always said so. Our ‘someday’ goal. What we’re working toward. And we
will
get there. When we can. We have plenty of time.”

I was fortunate enough to fall straight to sleep…only to be awoken thirty minutes later by my cell phone. As I checked it, Paige stirred beside me.

“Sorry. It’s my father. Probably returning my call.” I felt on the nightstand for my glasses. “I’ll take it in the office.”

“Stay,” she said through a yawn, snuggling back down into her pillow.

I answered with “You got my message, I presume.”

“I did, but that’s not why I’m calling. Spencer Geddes escaped tonight. I need you down here.”

I sat up. “I certainly hope you don’t expect me to help look for him. In fact, in light of the arrests, I hope you
aren’t
going to look for him. Perhaps this isn’t the way you’d like his incarceration to end, and I’m sure you’ll suffer some embarrassment with the Nasts because of it, but Spencer Geddes is an innocent man.”

“No, Lucas, he isn’t. He killed—”

“Unless you have substantial evidence to disprove the Middleton police’s theory—”

“I don’t mean that man in Middleton. In his escape, Geddes killed one of the guards. Gus Reichs.”

S
EAN PAUSED OUTSIDE HIS UNCLE’S HOTEL
room door. It was almost one, but they’d all been downstairs in the lounge until past midnight, so it was unlikely his uncle had retired yet. Still, Sean moved closer to the door, listening for sounds of activity.

And hoping you won’t hear any, right? If he’s sleeping, you can go back to bed and forget this whole thing.

But he didn’t want to forget it. He’d spent the evening working up the nerve, and downing more Scotch than usual to find it.

Drinking “more than usual” a lot these days, aren’t we?

Sean ignored the voice. If alcohol would get him through this, he’d take it.

He’d chosen to break the news first to Uncle Josef. This was the person least likely to judge and most likely to help him. He’d lost his own son to the vampire, Edward, and they’d grown closer since then—a son without a father and a father without a son.

Sean could hear no sounds from within, but he knocked anyway, lightly at first. When his uncle didn’t answer, he swallowed and assessed his reaction. Relief mixed with disappointment, but heavier on the disappointment. So he knocked again, louder.

The door opened.

“Sean.” His uncle smiled. “I was just in the washroom. Come in.”

“I’m sorry to come by so late.”

“No, no. I still have some work to do before I can even think about sleep.” He walked toward the minibar, waving Sean to a chair in the sitting area. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I’m fine, thanks. I—” Deep breath. “I came by to tell you that I know who hired Lucas Cortez to investigate the Middleton murder.”

He paused, waiting for his uncle to ask
how
he knew. Instead, his uncle smiled, then walked over and thumped him on the back before taking a seat.

“I knew it. I told your grandfather. He
wanted
to believe it, but I don’t think he dared.”

“Wanted to believe…?”

“The reason you’ve been getting cozy with your half—sorry,
alleged
half sister. I told your grandfather that you’re a clever lad. What better way to keep an eye on Lucas Cortez than to befriend his ward?”

“You think I spend time with Savannah to spy on Lucas?”

His uncle raised his glass in a dismissive wave. “
Spy
is a harsh word. Keep tabs on him. And it paid off this time. I’m not sure whether knowing the name of his client will help, but it certainly can’t hurt.”

“I’m the client, Uncle Josef.”

His uncle stopped, glass in midair. Then he swore and smacked it down on the table. For a moment, his uncle said nothing, and Sean held his breath, watching his uncle’s face for his reaction.

“We can work with this,” his uncle said after a moment. “Your grandfather doesn’t need to know the truth—”

“I think he does.”

His uncle met his gaze, expression hard. “No, Sean, he doesn’t. Your father had a sentimental streak when he was younger. He had…ideas. About the treatment of witches, vampires, werewolves. He wasn’t a bleeding heart like Lucas Cortez, but he argued for some changes. Your grandfather cured him of those ideas quickly enough.”

Sean flushed. “My father has nothing to do with my choices. It isn’t even a choice. I didn’t wake up one morning and think—”

“Of course you didn’t. You came by it honestly, that’s all I’m saying. You read about this chupacabra attack when we were in Tacoma, and you knew we’d see it. So you hired Lucas to investigate, to ensure this vampire got a fair trial.”

Sean eased back in his chair. “You think I hired Lucas because I read—?”

“A problem easily solved. We’ll admit to your grandfather that you’re
responsible for Lucas’s investigation only because you read that article and, in stopping by to check on Savannah, you mentioned it to them. Casually. But Lucas, always looking for a battle to fight, saddled up and rode out to save the vampires. Not your fault.”

And here, Sean realized, was a solution to his dilemma. He could declare himself the cause of the investigation without coming out. A few days ago, he’d have seized the chance. But now? It wasn’t an option now. The end was close, and he was determined to get there.

“I hired Lucas because I was there, at the scene of the crime. I found the body, and I didn’t want anyone to know it.”

His uncle nodded. “Because you didn’t want to get involved?”

“No, because of where the body was found. In a gay bar.” Sean paused, then pushed on, forcing the words out. “I’m gay.”

His uncle lifted his glass and took a long drink. His expression was somewhat guarded, but mainly just thoughtful.

“So it’s true, then,” he murmured after a long moment of silence.

“You knew?”

His uncle laid the glass down. “There have been rumors for years, Sean. Even when you were young, when your cousins were ogling girls at the beach, you barely bothered to look. How old were you when you stopped dating altogether? Sixteen, seventeen? Do you think no one noticed?”

Sean felt his hands trembling on the chair arms. Trembling with relief. All this time, they’d known, and nothing had changed. He’d been a fool to hide it.

“So Granddad knows?” he said.

“Of course not. Nor will he.”

“But— I can’t—”

His uncle leaned forward. His blue eyes went ice cold, like his father’s when he’d give a subordinate an order he didn’t want questioned. “What you do in your personal life is your own business, Sean. You will not make it the family’s business. You will do what every Nast son is expected to do. You will marry, and you will produce heirs. This is your responsibility to your family.”

“My responsibility? To trick some woman into marrying me?”

“No woman needs to be ‘tricked’ into marrying a Nast. You have wealth and power. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a wife, even if you tell her the truth.”

“But I— I’m not attracted to women. I can’t—”

“We all have to do things we don’t like.”

Sean could only stare, unable to believe what he was hearing.

His uncle patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’ll get you that drink now.”

As Sean sat there, stunned into silence, someone knocked. It was his grandfather’s executive assistant.

“Sir?” She saw Sean across the room. “Oh, good, you’re both here. You’re both needed in Mr. Nast’s room as soon as possible. Something’s happened at the Cortez office.”

His uncle promised they’d be there. As he closed the door, Sean’s shock finally faded, and he stood.

“I’m sorry if you don’t agree with my choices, Uncle Josef, but—”

His uncle lifted a hand. “Before you continue, Sean, I’d like you to remember that you aren’t the only one affected by your ‘choices.’ Imagine what your grandfather will think if he learns you found this victim in Middleton. A Cabal son, tripping over a vampire kill? Hardly a coincidence, I’m sure.”

“Yes, it was, because it
wasn’t
a vampire kill.”

“According to who?” His uncle’s face hardened. “Vampires are a threat to us all, Sean. I know that better than anyone. Give me the excuse, and I’ll have your grandfather believing he almost lost another grandson to the beasts.”

“That’s not—”

“Fair? Let’s talk about fair, Sean. Would it be fair for you to do this to your family? To rob your grandfather of another grandson? How will Bryce cope without you to guide him? He doesn’t have what it takes to be in business. Without you, he’ll fail. You’d do that to them for the sake of personal gratification?”

“Personal grat—?”

“Enough.” His uncle strode across the room. “We have business to attend to.” At the door, he glanced over his shoulder and met Sean’s gaze. “This conversation is over, and I never want to resume it. Is that understood?”

His uncle left before Sean could answer.

W
HEN WE ARRIVED IN THE PARKING LOT, A
dark-haired man the size of a linebacker stood in the delivery door alcove, waiting for us.

“Hey, Troy,” Paige said. “How are you doing?”

“Shocked. I used to work with Reichs when I was back in general security. Good guy.” He glanced at me. “Your dad’s inside. Gotta go around. The back door’s part of the crime scene.”

“Care to fill us in?” I said as we circled to the front.

While my father would reiterate the story, Troy could be counted on to provide the least biased version.

According to Troy, he and his partner, Griffin, had accompanied my father here after dinner last night so my father could make a few calls from the secured landline. Before leaving, my father went downstairs to check with the guards. They’d discovered Reichs dead in Geddes’s empty cell and found the other guard, Kepler, regaining consciousness by the back door. Geddes was gone.

“What does Kepler say?” I asked as we reached the front door.

“Not much. He’s pretty confused. Banged up his leg, too. Your dad has him resting on a cot upstairs while he flies in a Cabal doctor.”

My father met us just inside the door. As he retold the story, Troy fell back to give us privacy.

“While this is a tragedy, it’s a tragedy of the Cabal’s making,” I said when my father finished. “You confined a vampire for a crime, with absolutely no proof that he had committed it. You failed to release him when others were charged with that crime. You’ve given vampires no
reason to trust Cabals, so when Geddes saw a chance to escape, he seized it. I’d suggest time allocated to hunting him could be better spent on an internal review of the situation.”

“Right now, finding Spencer Geddes isn’t at the top of anyone’s agenda,” my father said. “In fact, the Nasts would rather we didn’t look at all. The first thing they did on hearing the news was to call an emergency Cabal conference to vote on the St. Cloud proposal.”

Paige looked over sharply. “Reichs mentioned that. What is it?”

“The St. Clouds have proposed declaring all vampires dangerous offenders. Those living on American soil would be given thirty days to evacuate. Then—” He paused. “Those who remain would be executed.”

I would like to say that the details of the St. Cloud proposal came as a shock. They didn’t.

I’d heard rumblings of similar ideas even before Edward’s rampage. Afterward, the rumbles had surged to roars, but only temporarily, before my father and others managed to stifle them and deflect attention to other matters.

To the council and the vampire community, such talk had been temporary fear mongering, too ludicrous to take seriously. Yes, Edward had killed innocent supernaturals, but others had done the same many times. Three years ago, a disgruntled Cabal employee had set fire to a Cabal satellite office and killed eight coworkers. Afterward, no one had suggested exiling and executing all half-demons.

Yet vampires were different. Like werewolves, they were inherently dangerous. Like werewolves, there were so few of them that an exile could be enforced. But rarely did anyone suggest that werewolves be exiled or exterminated.

The excuse for the different treatment was that one
needed
to kill and the other didn’t. Vampires had to take a life a year to prolong their own existence. For werewolves, bloodlust was merely an extension of their predatory nature, and could be controlled. The werewolf Pack did not condone man-eating, and promptly punished offenders, so while the Cabals might fear werewolves, they had little reason to act against them.