Cronin's Key II (2 page)

Alec nodded and Cronin led the way to the bar. Cronin stared for a beat too long at some guy who was leaning against the bar by himself before he nodded and called him by name. “Lars.”

Alec wanted to ask what was up with Lars—he was obviously a vampire—but before he had the chance, a voice came from behind them. “Cronin.”

Cronin smiled before he’d even turned around. “Kennard.”

Alec recognized the man as the elder of the London coven. He’d spoken to him via a video call when they were planning their attack in Egypt two months ago. Kennard was young in human years, no more than twenty. He was shorter than Alec imagined, with a slim build outlined by his fitted jacket with the collar upturned, perfectly styled blond hair, pale skin, and pink lips. He was boyish in looks, but there was a ferociousness lurking under the innocent façade. Alec thought that was what made him even more frightening.

“And Alec!” Kennard said, his eyes lighting up delightedly. He took Alec’s hand. “An absolute pleasure to meet you in person.”

Cronin made a point of looking at Kennard’s hand on Alec’s and feigned a snarl. It was hardly menacing, considering he did it with a smile.

“Oh, hush,” Kennard waved Cronin off. “You’ve been hiding him away for weeks now.” Kennard smiled up at Alec. Kennard’s flair and inflection reminded Alec of an over-acted Shakespeare play, and given Kennard was indeed a London elder, Alec wondered how far wrong he was on when exactly Kennard was human. “So, the hero of Egypt? No wonder you’re fated to Cronin. Only someone rather remarkable would be a match for him.”

Alec wasn’t sure what to make of Kennard. “Um….”

Cronin laughed and took Alec’s hand out of Kennard’s. “Ignore him. He’s an insatiable flirt,” he said, smiling warmly at his English friend. “But yes, Alec was very brave and clever.”

“You forgot handsome and good in bed,” Alec added.

Cronin blushed and Kennard clapped his hands as he laughed. “Oh, how I like you.” Then Kennard gave the barman a nod, “Get my friend here whatever he wants.”

Alec ordered a scotch and lime water, rather thankful he didn’t have to pay, because the only money he had was American dollars.

They followed Kennard through the crowd, up a few stairs, to a booth on a platform. It was clearly Kennard’s table, where he could sit and watch over his club. It also gave them privacy to speak freely without fear of being overheard by human ears. When they were seated, Kennard was still smiling at Alec. “So, the key is still human,” he said. “I have to say Cronin, I’m surprised.”

“Yeah well, about that,” Alec said, sipping his drink. “I can’t be changed. Not for the lack of trying.” He craned his neck slightly so his jacket slid down his neck, knowing Kennard would see the bite marks.

Kennard’s eyes shot to Cronin’s, and he sucked back a breath. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We don’t know,” Cronin said, his arm sliding protectively around Alec’s shoulders. “His blood is… special. It’s what made him the key to defeating Keket in Egypt—he resurrected a mummified vampire with his blood alone,” Cronin said. “Though our seer says his work is not yet done.”

Kennard’s eyes narrowed, but he shook it off and schooled his features with a smile. He looked again at Alec’s neck. “Well, if any one of us were fortunate enough to have the best of both worlds, Cronin, it would be you.”

Alec finished his drink, Kennard waved his hand, and not a moment later another full drink was on the table. “Thank you,” Alec said. “And thank you for helping us in Egypt. I’m glad I got to thank you in person.”

“It is I who should be thanking you,” Kennard said. “It’s not every day we get to meet and talk with a key.”

Alec was beginning to hate that word.

Maybe he wouldn’t hate it so much if he knew what it fucking meant.

Kennard was still obviously shocked. “Yet you can bite him and he remains human?”

Alec swore he heard a rush of whispers from the edges of the crowd. The vampires in the club clearly heard what Kennard said. Cronin let out a low growl. Kennard raised a hand dismissively and the whispers stopped. Cronin’s growl lowered but took a while to fade completely.

Kennard laughed. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about biting here, no?”

Cronin’s reply was low and final. “No.”

Kennard changed the subject of conversation. “How’s Eiji? Is he getting better?”

“All but healed,” Cronin answered. Word had spread quickly that Eiji had survived exposure to sunlight in saving Alec’s life. “He and Jodis are in Japan while he convalesces.”

Alec finished his drink, and a third appeared in front of him. He was already a little buzzed, so he sipped his next drink and scanned the floor while Cronin and Kennard talked of vampire matters. It was all rather political, and Alec was too busy checking out the dance floor to pay any attention. He wasn’t one to dance often, but in the end, it got the better of him. Alec downed his drink and stood up. “I’m gonna hit the dance floor,” he said.

Cronin started to object, naturally, but Kennard put his hand on Cronin’s arm. “Ah, Cronin,” Alec heard Kennard say. “Let him dance while we talk business. No need for the three of us to be bored senseless.”

Not caring they had company, Alec leaned down and kissed Cronin soundly before going back down the stairs and making his way through a sea of people. They were a mix of men and women, and from the lingering,
knowing
looks by some of them, Alec knew they were a solid mix of human and vampire.

Alec didn’t care. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes, feeling the bass of the music in his chest. It felt good to be doing something so normal, so human. He knew Cronin never took his eyes off him, and once upon a time that would’ve annoyed Alec. He’d have forbidden such possessive behavior, but now he reveled in it. He craved being owned by Cronin, as much as Cronin longed to be owned by him.

Being fated was a beautiful thing.

Alec couldn’t believe he’d once tried to rebuke the idea.

A warm body pressed a little too close, making Alec open his eyes. He knew it had to be some human—no vampire in the club would be stupid enough to approach another vampire’s mate, and Cronin’s mate no less. It was a guy who smiled at him, but before he could even speak, Cronin was in between them, staring at the now-pale human man until he backed away.

Alec pulled himself against Cronin’s ass and laughed. “Jealousy looks good on you.”

“We must leave,” Cronin said.

“He didn’t mean anything by it,” Alec started to say.

But Cronin had Alec’s hand and was leading him to what Alec realized was the back way to the fire escape. “No, we must go. Now.”

Alec knew from Cronin’s tone something was wrong. He tried to clear his head. “What happened?”

“It’s not what
has
happened,” Cronin said as he pushed through the back door into an alley where Kennard stood waiting. “It’s what’s
going to
happen.”

Alec had no sooner stepped into the alley, than Cronin looked around and checked that the three of them were alone. He put his arm around Alec, pulled him close, put his hand on Kennard’s shoulder, and they leapt.

As soon as they’d landed wherever Cronin had leapt them to, Alec took in his surroundings. He was never sure what would greet them, if they would arrive in a vampire-filled warehouse for a coven meeting or a deserted battlefield in Scotland. So his senses were always alert, and he took in every detail.

It was night, of course. They were outside, surrounded by trees. The air was humid and thick, and smelled of cloying undergrowth and rain. No, not rain. Rain
forest
. The trees towered over them, the ground was damp underfoot, and the warning cries of exotic animals told Alec he was far from home.

“Where are we?”

Cronin kept him close. “We are in the forests near Rurrenabaque, Northern Bolivia.”

“I’m gonna assume you mean the Bolivia in South America?” Alec said, trying to see past the closest tree, then into the darkened canopy. “And not the Bolivia in North Carolina, right?”

Kennard snorted quietly. “Correct.”

“There is a vampire here we need to speak to,” Cronin said. He nodded at the darkness ahead. “He lives just through there.” He started walking, slowly, no doubt to allow for the human who couldn’t see too well in the dark. “Though there is something you should know before we meet him.”

Alec almost tripped over a tree root. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“He’s a child,” Cronin said.

“A vampire child?” Alec repeated. “Is that even legal?”

Kennard snorted again. “It’s not preferred, no. They pose a risk to our secrecy, but this one is… different.”

Cronin helped Alec navigate his footing in the dark and said, “His name is Jorge. It is believed his human parents disowned him as a small child, around a hundred years ago. Villagers were superstitious about such things and cast him out so as not to anger the gods.”

“What was wrong with him?” Alec asked. His eyes had adjusted to the dark now, just in time for them to stop walking.

“We believe, in his human form, he suffered from dissociative identity disorder because, well—” Cronin made a face. “—he has taken that form in his vampiric life. He talks to himself as though he is two people. One is pleasant, one is… not.”

Alec wasn’t even surprised. After Egypt, nothing surprised him when it came to vampires. “Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?”

Cronin nodded. “Yes.”

“In the one vampire?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, great.”

“Adelmo is his caregiver,” Cronin continued to explain. “He’s a kind vampire who taught Jorge our laws. Jorge needs constant care, as he is and will always be, just a child.”

Alec considered this. “Excuse my curiosity and my insolence for asking, but if he posed such a threat to vampires, why not just kill him?”

“He has a certain skill set,” Kennard said. “A valuable one. His caregiver or owner, if you will, uses the boy for his own purposes.”

Alec couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He what?”

“He does not harm the child,” Cronin said, knowing what Alec was thinking. “In fact, quite the opposite. He treats the child as if he were his own. Adelmo cares for the boy, and the boy can warn him if there is danger.”

“What’s the skill set?” Alec pressed. “What can this boy do?”

“He is a seer, a very good one,” Cronin answered.

“He tells the future,” Kennard furthered. “He sees everything. Unlike other seers like your Eleanor, who gets snippets and flashes, nothing is hidden from Jorge.”

Alec knew there was something they weren’t telling him. “What’s the drawback? I mean there has to be a drawback, or he wouldn’t be hidden away living out here in the middle of a forest.”

Cronin smiled ruefully. “He speaks in riddles.”

“His visions are accurate, like no other,” Kennard said. “You just need to decipher what they mean.”

Cronin nodded. “And the dual conversations are a little unnerving.”

“How Adelmo lives with it, I’ll never know,” Kennard added.

“He loves the child,” Cronin said simply.

In silence, they started walking again, and after a few hundred yards, they stopped at a clearing. It took Alec a second to notice the hut at the back of the clearing. There were no lights on inside, then Alec realized, of course, there wouldn’t be. Vampires didn’t need them.

Despite the hut being a good eighty yards away, Cronin spoke with a normal voice. “Adelmo, it is Cronin. I bring with me Kennard and Alec. We need to speak with Jorge.”

“You bring a human,” a voice replied, Alec strained to hear it. “I can hear its heart beating from here.”

“The human is with me,” Cronin stated flatly. “He is not to be harmed.”

Alec wanted to say, “The
human
has a fucking name,” but figured it might not be the icebreaker he should aim for.

Alec still didn’t even know what they were doing here or what it was this kid vampire could see. But he trusted Cronin completely and knew he’d find out answers soon enough.

“You may come in,” the voice said. It was stilted English with a strong Spanish accent, and Alec realized Cronin—who spoke many languages—had started the conversation in English for Alec’s benefit. They walked to the hut and the door opened, though it was too dark for Alec to see inside.

Cronin stepped through the doorway first, and a moment later, he held an old lantern that diffused a soft light over the hut. He smiled at Alec, seemingly pleased with himself to have thought of Alec’s needs. Alec stepped inside and was shocked by what he saw.

The hut was humble, filled with simple furniture. A man, who Alec assumed was Adelmo, stood by the table. He was tall and thin, with kind eyes, a broad forehead, and thick black hair braided down his back. He appeared to be no more than thirty in human years. Despite Adelmo’s threadbare, somewhat-modern clothes, he reminded Alec of the images he’d seen of Inca warriors, and Alec wondered just how old Adelmo was. Regardless, Alec liked him immediately, but what shocked Alec was the child sitting at the table.

Jorge was possibly the cutest kid Alec had ever seen. He could be no more than six years old, with shaggy black hair, bright eyes, and rosy chubby cheeks. He was clearly excited to have company, and Alec wondered how a cute-looking kid could be so… what did Cronin call it?
Unnerving?

Then Jorge smiled, and Alec had to stop himself from taking a step backwards.

Jorge’s mouth was full of small, squared baby teeth, and vampire fangs. He laughed and said something in what Alec assumed to be a local dialect of Spanish. Alec knew some Spanish, and could make out the words
human
and
pet
, and he laughed. Then Jorge asked Adelmo, in English, “Can we have one?”

Alec could feel Cronin tense beside him as he spoke back to them in short, angry clips of their dialect of Spanish. Alec didn’t need to understand every word to know Cronin didn’t like what Jorge had said.

Adelmo put his hand on Jorge’s shoulder, quick to pacify. “He means no harm.”

“I know,” Alec said. And truthfully, Alec understood. Kids had a tact all their own and weren’t inhibited by social etiquette. Alec looked at Jorge. “My name is Alec. Nice to meet you.”