Blood Born (5 page)

Vampires couldn’t even glamour a human into issuing the necessary invitation into a home, or convincing the human to step outside. Glamour stopped at the threshold. The protection of the spell went deep, and in over four hundred years no one had been able to break it. The vampires had tried; they’d paid witches, glamoured witches, turned witches into vampires in the hope that their witchy powers would withstand the turning. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t, but that didn’t matter: The result was the same. The spell still stood. No witch, whether coerced, paid, or turned, had been able to break it.

Luca didn’t have the mundane worries many lesser vampires did. Because people forgot him as soon as he passed by, he didn’t have to worry about changing his residence before neighbors became suspicious when he didn’t age. He didn’t have to wrestle with a new world where everyone and everything was on the Internet. He’d gotten all the modern means of identification: Social Security number, driver’s license, credit cards, simply because having them made things easier for himself, but he didn’t
have
to have them. He liked the convenience so much, though, that he’d procured several
extra sets in different names, for those times when he didn’t want anyone to know where he was. If necessary, he could glamour airline employees into letting him on a plane, but by trial and error he’d learned doing that could cause problems if he took a seat that had been assigned to some late-arriving passenger. Actually buying a seat was a simple solution.

Damn computers. He liked using them, but without a doubt they had complicated the lives of vampires, some more than others. For him they were a minor irritant; no one remembered him, so no one checked up on him. For almost all other vampires, they were a major pain in the ass.

He found a parking spot in Georgetown, a couple of blocks from the Council building, and walked the rest of the way. There might have been a parking space directly in front of the Council building, but he preferred parking where they couldn’t see him coming; he even took the precaution of circling the block so he approached from a different direction. He was the Council’s executioner, but there were some on the Council he preferred to catch off guard. It was a game he played; he liked making them guess, making them wary of him. Most of them were wary of him anyway, and he played on that, making them think he was more powerful than he was. When it came to vampire politics, his reputation was his greatest asset. He didn’t mind being the boogeyman, the one they were all afraid of, because that bought him his freedom from a lot of hassle and interference.

Walking also gave him the opportunity to see if anything unusual was going on around him. He wasn’t comfortable, with the sun high overheard, but the looming trees provided enough shade that he could ignore the irritation. The thick, heavy air was laden with the lunchtime smell from a small tavern across the
street; the sidewalk tables were mostly occupied, and his acute hearing picked up the laughter and buzz of conversation.

Nothing caught his attention, so he tuned them out, but drew in deep, appreciative breaths as he continued down the street. He’d long since become old enough to not only tolerate the smell of human food, but to enjoy it—some of it, anyway. He couldn’t live on it, but he could eat a few bites of, say, ice cream or some non-spicy food. He’d grown to love the taste of a good wine, despite the fact that alcohol had no effect on him. Same with coffee: good taste, no effect. Sometimes he was really pissed about that, but for the most part he was simply glad he could enjoy the taste even if he didn’t get any of the side benefits.

Leaving the wonderful smells behind him, he turned the corner and the Council building came into view on the right, third from the end of the block. It was a three-story red brick, prosperous-looking without being ostentatious, ordinary in that it blended in with all the other buildings in the neighborhood. The interior, however, was opulent; not only did vampires in general love their creature comforts, but the nine Council members had every luxury. In Luca’s view that didn’t come close to making up for the crushing responsibility and lack of freedom, but to some the prestige and authority were acceptable trade-offs.

The area was stately and fairly quiet, though there was the occasional tourist and, of course, a steady stream of joggers. As Luca neared the Council building, a jogger ran at a steady pace down the sidewalk toward him.
Military
, Luca thought after a quick assessment, though Secret Service or even private security was also a possibility. Short hair, erect posture, excellent overall physical shape; he was sweating, of course, but his breathing was easy. The jogger looked Luca up and
down, taking in the long dark hair, the long sleeves that were unusual for such a hot summer day, the sunglasses that hid the direction of his gaze. Instantly there was a new tension in the jogger’s body, an awareness that Luca was a potential threat.

Luca kept his pace steady, his body language as neutral as possible. He was what he was, a man of war honed by centuries of experience into something truly scary, and it was obvious to people who’d been trained to assess danger. They might not realize exactly how lethal he was, never dreaming he was a vampire, but the signs were there in the power and fluidity of his movements. It helped that he wasn’t carrying anything, and obviously wasn’t armed. He kept his hands open, his posture relaxed, and the jogger passed by. Luca gave a quick look over his shoulder, watched the jogger’s body relax by the time he’d gone three paces. He’d forgotten, already.

He turned up the sidewalk, leaped the shallow steps two at a time, used his fist to give two sharp raps to the door. There was an ornate doorbell installed beside the door, but actually using it guaranteed that the door wouldn’t be opened unless a delivery was expected. The building was always locked, always guarded. He knew that a discreet surveillance camera had been recording him almost from the time he’d turned the corner.

Dammit, the sun was burning him. Not literally, but a midday summer sun was a lot for him to tolerate. Annoyed at having to wait even a short while, he gave another two knocks, this pair decidedly harder than the first two had been.

Abruptly the door was jerked open a bare six inches, and a narrow, suspicious face filled the gap. “We aren’t expecting any visitors,” the vampire said, without any hostility but also without any welcome.

The guard’s name was Jasper. Vampires were as varied in their personalities and strengths as humans were. Jasper was a little over two hundred years old, which was kind of middle of the road for a vampire: not dreadfully young, but not all that old, either. His powers were very mediocre; despite having first met Luca over seventy years before, he never remembered him. He couldn’t fly, and he wasn’t great at glamouring. He could, however, stay awake during the day, which made him perfectly suited to be a Council guard. He could also tolerate a little sunshine, so long as it was indirect.

“I’m Luca Ambrus,” Luca said, reintroducing himself as he did every time he came to the Council building.

Jasper recoiled a little; what vampire wouldn’t when faced with the Council’s infamous executioner? “Yes … yes sir,” Jasper said, automatically withdrawing and opening the door wide enough for Luca to enter. “Ah … who should I … That is, is someone expecting you?” He ground to a halt, his eyes widening as it occurred to him that perhaps Luca was here to execute one of the Council members themselves, or perhaps even
all
of them. If anyone on the Council had been expecting him, Jasper would have been notified to expect a visitor.

“Tell Enoch that I’m here,” Luca said, closing and locking the door behind him. Cool, blessed dimness engulfed him and he gave a mental sigh of relief. He would have given a physical one, but he never revealed even the slightest hint of discomfort in front of another vampire. Let them think he was invincible; it made his job a little easier if his prey went into the fight expecting to die. He removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his pocket. Jasper flinched from the clarity of Luca’s pale gray eyes. His eye color would have been
noticeable in anyone, but given his dark hair and olive skin, the contrast made them particularly piercing. There was no power attached to his eye color, but other vampires were never certain whether there was or not. After all, with a blood born, anything was possible.

Jasper turned to reach for a phone but hesitated as his keen hearing picked up the sound of someone hurrying toward the entrance. Luca had already turned to face the newcomer, recognizing Enoch’s tread. Enoch had either been monitoring the security camera himself or someone else had been, and had awakened him.

A door opened at the end of the hallway and Enoch appeared. “Mr. Ambrus! I’m sorry, I wasn’t notified you’d be arriving.” He flicked a quick glance at Jasper. “That’ll be all.”

Jasper looked relieved at being excused from Luca’s presence, and withdrew into the small room off the foyer where he monitored the security cameras.

Enoch was large, bald, and efficient. He was old enough and strong enough to remember Luca, and he was a powerful fighter, but by far his most valuable trait was his efficiency. He oversaw the running of the Council building, which essentially meant he made certain everything was as the Council members desired it. Despite being caught unaware, at a time when most vampires were sleeping, he was dressed in an impeccable Italian suit that had been tailored to fit his bulk. His dark eyes revealed a hint of wariness, as if he knew Luca’s unannounced visit was going to cause an uproar. The Council members didn’t like surprises, especially in the form of their own paid executioner.

“No problem,” Luca said. “I’m here to see Hector.”

Enoch blinked in astonishment. “Hector?” he echoed blankly, then recovered himself. “I apologize, it isn’t any of my business. I’ll call his quarters.”

Enoch’s surprise was understandable; Hector wasn’t
the Council member whom Luca dealt with on official business; that was Theodore, another Greek, but not one Luca liked—or trusted, come to that.

He could have called Hector’s number himself, but instead waited while Enoch stepped to an old-fashioned corded phone and dialed Hector’s extension. There was a reason for the land-line phone; vampires were as electronically savvy as the general human population, which meant the Council was also very security-conscious. They all had cell phones, for convenience, but cell phone calls were easy to intercept unless they were encrypted, so for communications within the building they used a private land-line system. The calls weren’t registered by any phone company, the phones worked during power outages, and the security measures needed were all passive, to guard against any eavesdropping from outside the building.

The idea of someone spying on them wasn’t ridiculous; everyone in D.C. seemed to be obsessed with secrets, security, and espionage—and with good reason. What kept them mostly invisible was that vampire concerns ordinarily weren’t the same as human concerns, though with three vampires in Congress, that line was beginning to blur.

Luca didn’t agree with vampires getting involved in human politics; with the intense media scrutiny these days, no secret was safe, and deliberately making oneself a target of that scrutiny was opening the door to disaster. In the matter of congressional vampires, the Council was divided. Some of the members thought it was a good idea to have friends in high places, while others thought as Luca did, that it was inviting trouble. He just hoped he wasn’t one day called on to permanently remove a sitting member of Congress, because that could get nasty. He could make the member disappear—literally—so that wasn’t
the problem; the resulting hue and cry was the problem, and that was exactly what he was supposed to help the kindred avoid.

Enoch hung up the phone. “Hector didn’t answer. He must have left his quarters.” He glanced at the ornate grandfather clock that dominated the foyer, a slight frown creasing his forehead as if he wondered what Hector was doing wandering around the building during daylight hours. Luca gathered that Enoch didn’t like Council members to deviate from their routine, which was understandable. If he were the one responsible for meeting the wants and needs of nine very powerful, sometimes capricious vampires, he’d want them to be where they were supposed to be, too.

“I’ll find him,” he said to Enoch, striding to the elevator.

Enoch looked appalled at the idea of Luca doing his own wandering through the building, and hurried to enter the elevator with him. As Luca hit the down button, he hid his amusement; maybe Enoch also suspected he might be here to eliminate one of the Council members, though in that case what he thought he could do was a puzzle. Open a door for Luca, perhaps? Hold down the target in case he or she struggled? Bring him a glass of blood afterward, in case Luca needed refreshment? The one thing he wouldn’t do was try to interfere with the executioner, which would sign his own death warrant.

Then another thought struck. Hector was old, but age didn’t matter to vampires when it came to one particular area: sex. Could Hector be having an assignation, and Enoch knew about it? On the other hand, why would anyone care? And as worried as Hector had been yesterday when he called, would he then blithely settle down for a long round of sex when he knew Luca was due to arrive? Not likely.

The private apartments of the Council members took up two of the three underground floors of the building, which had originally been built in the eighteen nineties, then extensively remodeled in the nineteen twenties, when the Council had relocated from Paris. Even though the Council members were each able to withstand sunshine, without doubt they all rested more comfortably belowground, where they were more relaxed.

The bottom subterranean floor consisted of storage and three very sturdy cells, not that any vampire who might require a cell was likely to survive long enough to make use of one. Still, they were there, for the rare occasion when the Council wanted a vampire held for questioning. Aboveground were the public rooms where business was conducted and meetings were held, as well as the rooms a human would expect to see should one be allowed inside: a dining room (unused), a kitchen (also unused), a parlor, some private offices, regular bedrooms. To the outside world, the vampire headquarters was an old, elegant, privately owned building with nothing to distinguish it from the rest of the neighborhood.