Crimson City Part 3

Chapter Five.

Two hours before dawn the next night, Dain was about ready to pa.s.s out with exhaustion. He'd sent Cyd back out on the streets to see if the dogs knew anything about all this, and had spent the rest of the night in his apartment reviewing field reports. He still had to head back to Dumont Towers for a little powwow with the beauty herself.

He'd double-bolted the doors and locked down the windows in an elevated state of uneasiness, but even in that heightened state he didn't sense the presence of anything-or anybody-unusual before he heard the knock on his living room window. His hand went by reflex for a weapon, but when he turned to look, it was just her, sitting on the win-dowsill. Waiting for him to let her in.

He unlocked the frame and slid the window up. She lifted her hand, gloved in long leather with emerald gemstone b.u.t.tons trailing down the wrist, and placed it on his shoulder for leverage. "We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Fleur Du-mont," she said, and stepped past him off the win-dowsill. She turned around and gave him a onceover. Looking down at his T-s.h.i.+rt and fatigue pants, he didn't expect her to be impressed. When her eyes finally landed back on his face, she said, "And you must be Dain Reston."

"The one." He offered his hand for a shake and she accepted it, her gaze resting briefly on the faded scar from the old skin grafts still visible on his lower arms. "Burns," he said, and when she let go, he folded his arms over his chest and changed the subject. "So, how's that shoulder?"

"It's fine, thank you." With a little more edge to her voice she added, "I heal quickly."

"Right." They shared a moment of silence. "So. Here we are. Can I get you anything? Warm beer? Cold takeout?"

"No, thank you," she said, her attention already occupied with a quick inspection of his apartment.

Dain laughed. "Feel free to have a look around." It gave him an opportunity to inspect her. The dark clothing and crimson paint on her lush mouth emphasized her pale, delicate skin. A portion of silky blonde hair peeked out from under a satin top hat carefully pinned to her head at a jaunty angle. A dusting of blue-gray under her eyes indicated Dain wasn't the only one under some pressure in this whole scenario.

Her fitted leather armor was of an expensive cut, trimmed with dark green satin accents; it did a nice job of showing off her slender, fit body. The mandarin collar of her jacket unb.u.t.toned at the very top to reveal an enormous emerald on a choker around her neck. The ensemble was completed by tall combat boots laden with the requisite knives and handguns that everyone seemed to carry these days.

She'd dressed to awe him. Dain had never knowingly hosted a vampire at his apartment, and it was fascinating to see how they used their wealth to manipulate a given situation.

Fleur carefully removed her hat and looked around for somewhere to put it. She chose the coffee table, covered as it was by the evening newspaper and an ugly commemorative paperweight from the last campaign in the war between the species that Kippenham had gifted to the members of every field team, dead serious about it and crazy patriotic as usual. Dain had kept it because it made him laugh.

Settling on the arm of the sofa, Fleur finally gave him her full attention. "You live like a werewolf," she said, curiosity and disdain coloring her voice.

If the upper-crust lilt of her accent got to him, it had to drive the dogs insane.

Dain guessed his place unsettled her with its simplicity, and that she'd antic.i.p.ated that it would-it was probably why she'd dressed to the limit, with that customary air of converted Victorian elegance in which the vamps liked to indulge when they weren't busy trying to pa.s.s as human. Of course, if she'd dressed for an interview with a werewolf, she'd probably have gone further, layering on even more jewels to highlight the cla.s.s difference between them. As it was, she'd taken pains; her hair was in some sort of complicated updo that looked like it had taken hours to put together, and Dain couldn't help thinking how much he'd love to pull it apart. He also couldn't help but smile at the thought of the contrast she'd make with her elegant, jewel-adorned body lying on his plain white sheets.

"Reston," she said impatiently. "Are you still with me?"

"Can't you read my mind?" he asked.

"If I could, I wouldn't confess to it."

"If you could, you'd be blus.h.i.+ng," he said. She'd just given away that she didn't have telepathic powers.

Unless she was lying. Her mouth parted as if she intended a retort, but she closed it again and sauntered over to him. "Well, then. Let's get on with it. Your mech murdered our top two ranking officials. If you wanted to engineer a coup, you did a rather fine job of it."

"We didn't," he said simply.

"That was your mech."

"Yes. But it wasn't sent by our command."

"Are you suggesting it malfunctioned-to such an extent that it climbed more than a hundred stories up the side of a skysc.r.a.per and shot the two most important people in our leaders.h.i.+p?" Fleur rolled her eyes. "That's rather unlucky. And a bit embarra.s.sing for your research department, to boot."

"I see you had time to read up on all of us."

"At least on you, Reston. You seemed relevant, given that you were at the scene of the crime." She ran a finger along the side of the coffee table, absently staring at the dust before rubbing it between her fingers. "So, you humans didn't send the mech. Hmm. Either you're lying and you sent it, you're not lying and a nonhuman compromised your secret weapon and sent it for you, or you don't know what you're talking about because you're much less informed than your position would suggest."

Dain crossed her arms over his chest, amazed that she'd actually managed to irritate him. "Sure, from your point of view it could be any of those things. But, believe me, I'm as anxious to get to the bottom of this as you are."

She gave him a long look. "You seem rather cavalier about all this. Do you realize what it means?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"It means that once again we stand on the brink of war. What you tell me here could be extremely important as far as avoiding an immediate escalation." She stared at him.

"Meaning, you are a.s.suming this is a sign of proactive aggression?"

She gave him an incredulous laugh. "Well, it's not as if that mech merely fired a warning shot. The two men he killed certainly wouldn't see it that way."

"Probably not. Interesting fact, though: It didn't manage to kill you."

Fleur's face flamed red, but she held his gaze. "I was lucky."

"Apparently so. I guess this puts you in charge now. Congratulations on your promotion." He gave her a hard look.

"You're a callous b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she said almost curiously.

"Thanks. That means I'm doing my job right."

She moistened her lips but didn't shy away. "I don't like talking in circles. Try to imagine how you'd feel if two of your team had just been murdered."

"Fair enough. But if you're already convinced we're behind this, why haven't you attacked? Wreaked revenge? You know, the usual."

"I like to be sure before I endorse catastrophe," she said dryly. "And you said you humans didn't send the mech."

"That's it? And you believe me?" He laughed, enjoying the fact that it seemed to p.i.s.s her off. A lot.

"One more time. Did you humans send that mech?" she repeated through gritted teeth.

"No. And my job is to figure out who did. I'd like to suggest that, under the circ.u.mstances, we try to work together on this."

Her eyebrow went up. "How do you mean, 'work together'?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm thinking a certain spirit of open-mindedness. Sharing of any leads. Not jumping to conclusions. You get some insight into us humans, I get some insight into you vampires. That sort of thing. It's better than us just getting right to the bloodshed."

She studied his face, then suddenly narrowed her eyes. "I love how you automatically a.s.sume we are out for your blood. That's the funny thing about you humans. You'd think by your very name that you own the concept of humanity-goodness, fairness, decency. We could easily use this situation as an excuse for war. All the more reason you should show more appreciation for the restraint my visit represents."

"Well, that's a h.e.l.l of a speech." And it was, though it was nothing new. The party line was always that the vamps held themselves to a higher standard. Dain knew that the real reason they hadn't attacked wasn't because they feared chaos, war, and everything that went along with it; the real reason was because they feared they'd enjoy it too much.

"Things aren't what they used to be. You humans have lost much more power than you like to admit. You have nowhere to go but down."

She wasn't entirely off base. Except for one thing. They all had nowhere to go but down.

And suddenly he realized that here, underneath a substantial amount of bravado, was a young woman who might be in over her head. She was new at this; he would have known about her much, much earlier if she'd been groomed for this position of power. She'd come to size him up. Talk about home-court advantage. She needed a little shaking up.

"Don't worry," Dain said. "I get where you're coming from. I realize there's nothing more important to you vampires than hanging on to your remaining shreds of humanity. Too bad it's threatened every night by the darkness of your souls."

Fleur's mouth dropped open. "Do you try to be insulting, or does it just come naturally?"

Dain shrugged and flashed his c.o.c.kiest grin. "I read up on you, too."

"You'd just better watch your step."

It was all the excuse he needed to reach out and grab her, to pull her in close and take her face in his hands. She gasped, and he pressed his thumb hard against her lips, forcing it between her teeth. She could have easily bit down and he'd be out a thumb. Not to mention that spilling any blood would probably make the whole situation even more dangerous. "First of all, if you bite me, it's not exactly going to help your case. It will only make things worse. Second, I don't appreciate it when people come into my home and make threats."

Dain lifted his other hand and wrapped it around her neck, then pushed her up against the wall. He forced her chin up and gripped her jaw until she had to open her mouth. Where her fangs should have been were perfect smooth-edged humanlike incisors. "Filed," he said. "Very pretty."

He thought about Serena and squeezed harder. The photos that dominated his wife's skimpy file showed her body drained of life, two puncture wounds in the side of her neck. Fleur twisted her head away but he forced it back.

"Now I understand you," she said. "Maybe you're just trying to pa.s.s for human. You live like a werewolf because you act like one."

"Hey, watch your tone, sweetheart. Some of my best friends are werewolves."

"I just bet," she said grimly.

He looked down at his thumb. Her filed-down tooth was still sharp, apparently, for it had cut him. He smeared the crimson tint against her skin. She looked sensual, ravished, and he'd barely touched her, really. He reached up and pulled a long piece of hair out of her carefully arranged updo, mussing it, and let it fall softly against her cheek. She was impossibly pretty.

"You men are all the same," Fleur said. "Don't think you can just swagger about and it means anything. This doesn't impress me."

She was strong, but he'd trapped her arms and clearly had her at a disadvantage. "Oh, but I can swagger about, sweetheart. After all, this is my home. Now if you're done making this social call, I have a lot more swaggering planned for the evening and I'd like to get on with it."

He released her and she stepped back, her chest heaving. She picked up her hat and quickly pinned it back on her head, pieces of her glossy hair still falling around her neck. She tried to act casual.

"Let's talk again, shall we? I think you should come to strata plus-one," she said, climbing gracefully onto the windowsill. Dain looked at her suspiciously. It was a rare invitation, to say the least. She turned and looked over her shoulder. "By the way, you might want to get a bandage for that thumb."

"Why, is my blood making you hot?" he purred.

She quirked an eyebrow and gave him a coquettish look. "Oh, absolutely. I'll likely be hounding you forever." She paused. "I'm not your enemy, Dain, but if it turns out you humans sent the mech, I will killyou." He clutched his chest in a most dramatic fas.h.i.+on. "Now you're turning me on." "How lucky. You'll die in the throes of ecstasy," she said. Then she leapt from the windowsill and was gone. Dain stared out into the blackness, feeling an unfamiliar twinge. She'd be hounding him forever, she'd said. He raised his thumb, still wet from her mouth and his blood.

He couldn't count on forever, but she'd be hounding him for a long, long time.

Chapter Six.

Fleur landed one hundred and sixty stories up the side of Dumont Towers on the balcony outside of the war room, and took a moment to compose herself. She wasn't used to humans like that-to anyone like that. People who didn't show respect, who literally manhandled her as if she had common wolf blood or something. There was something a little wild and exciting about it. She might be a good fighter, but she wasn't street smart. Not in the least. That was where her training failed her. She'd been too d.a.m.n sheltered all this time.

Pressing her hand over her heart, she could feel it still beating madly. The last human who had made her heart race had been her downfall, and this one had her amped up twice as much. Fl.u.s.tered and even a little scared by the unfamiliarity of Dain Res-ton's behavior, she had to regain her balance. Inside were the Protectors, and she didn't want them to see her come undone.

Her cousins were the people she loved and trusted most in the world. It wasn't merely because they all shared a sort of blood bond, a result of their Protector status to always watch out for her, defend her, and protect her ever since she was a baby; they could have let the bond lapse if they'd wanted. It was because, outside of Paulina, they were the only ones of the vampire world who had never let their loyalty or love flag, even when she'd done her worst. She'd sworn a long time ago that she'd never disappoint them again. She'd never put them in the position of having to justify to everyone around them that a vampire with a black mark such as herself was still worth believing in.

Taking a deep calming breath, Fleur separated the heavy silk drapes with a flourish and stepped into the room. Marius, Ian and Warrick huddled around a small coffee table in the lounge across the room from the long conference table. "Still has.h.i.+ng out options, are we?" she asked.

"I was about to come after you," Ian said. "When we said you should go talk to Reston..." He paused, looking her up and down, and the three brothers shared a look amongst themselves.

"What is it?" Fleur asked. n.o.body said a word. She tossed her hat, gloves, and holster onto a side table, walked over and sank into one of the large club chairs beside her cousins. "I think it's going to take a while to figure this out."

After a pause, Warrick asked rather dryly, "He's not dead, is he?"

She looked at him in surprise. "I thought we agreed to try diplomacy first! I mean, why did we spend all that time talking the others out of fighting if you wanted me to kill Reston? Nothing's charged.

If the humans sent that mech, they'll have more. We'll never win a stand-up fight. I... What is it?" She said at last, noticing her cousin's expressions.

An arched eyebrow from Marius was the only response she got.

"Oh!" Fleur's hand flew up to her hair. She'd forgotten. Reston had rattled her and she'd completely forgotten. She must look like she'd either battled someone... or made love. She could still taste Dain Reston's blood on her lips and it made her dizzy to think of his thumb in her mouth. And though she'd sated her thirst prior to paying Reston a call, for exactly that reason, the delicate line she'd walked didn't escape her.

Rising and using the walk back to the side table as an excuse to turn away, she pulled a lace handkerchief from her pocket, wiped the smeared lipstick off her face, and quickly pinned up the loose hair.

"Did he hurt you?" Marius asked.

"Of course not," she said curtly. "You would have sensed it. We were just playing a game." She kept her face carefully blank.

"Who won?" Ian asked.

To avoid further scrutiny, Fleur didn't go back to her chair, choosing instead to flop down on the plush velvet couch at the other end of the room. Playing with the fringe on the matching copper brocade pillows, she smiled to herself. "We tied. But I daresay I got the last word."

She looked over her shoulder. Her cousins shared another one of those infuriating looks and joined her in the sitting area. Marius steepled his fingers. "And what's the bottom line?"

"Well... he's high up in the human heirarchy, and I think he's telling the truth when he says his bosses didn't send the mech to kill Ryan and Christian. In fact, I think he doesn't know what happened and being in the dark is bothering him."

"Why do you say that?"

"It was just a sense I had. He had nothing to offer as far as information. And I really didn't get the impression that he was holding anything back." She shrugged. "I could be wrong. Still, he suggested we form an alliance on this project."

Ian rolled his eyes. "He wants to form an 'alliance' with you? Are you sure it's about finding information on the mech? What were you doing there, flirting or trying to maintain the peace?"

Fleur sat straight up. "I'm doing the best I can," she said grimly.

"We know," Warrick said. "We know."