Fallen Embers (25 page)

“You understand the need for secrecy, I hope,” Damian said, after turning back to her. “Or have we taught you nothing? The fact that nobody believes in our existence is our first line of defense. It is the foundation of our security.
Everything
rests upon it. So,
at best
, the police will dismiss Brennan's claims as nonsense.
At worst
, they'll decide to treat what he says seriously, to focus their attention
here
, to investigate
us
.” Damian shook his head, his expression as grim as she'd ever seen it. “Do I really have to spell out for you what will happen should that occur? Your grandfather and I are committed to your safety, you know this. And these men, these women—whoever they send to investigate us—they will have to be stopped by whatever means necessary. If all else fails… Well, they will not be the first who will have died to protect our people. They will not even be the first who have died to protect
you
. Have I made myself clear?”

“That last part might have been overly harsh,” Conrad observed. He had come to stand beside Damian, now he gave Damian's shoulder a comforting caress. But it was Julie to whom he addressed his next words. “On the whole, I must agree with what Damian has said. There is nothing we will not do to protect you, Julie. That is our first priority.”

“I know.” Julie hung her head and nodded. “And, yes, D. It's clear.” If she were honest, it had been clear for as long as she could remember. It just wasn't something she chose to think about all the time…or ever, really. Very much, she suspected, like humans who enjoyed eating meat but preferred not to contemplate how the food got to their plate.

The uncomfortable truth of what it meant to be Vampire, what she thought of as the dark side of their nature, had never been hidden from her. But it was never something she'd had to think about, either. Conrad and Damian had made that possible for her—and for Marc. They had shielded them from a lot, more than she'd realized.

And although she appreciated that fact, perhaps it was time she stopped hiding from the truth, time she stood on her own two feet and faced reality—without shields or crutches.

“I love you,” she said as she threw herself into their arms for a three-way hug. She wanted to feel it one more time, the sensation of being loved, of being safe, of being home.

“And we love you,” Conrad said, speaking for both of them, stroking her hair and holding her close. It was Julie who pulled away first.

“Well, I guess I'd better go deal with this.” She smiled at them both and then turned toward the door. But she paused when her glance fell on the suitcase. She didn't want to take the time to hide her mother's things just now. And maybe…maybe she didn't want to hide them at all anymore. “Grandfather, could you keep an eye on this for me?” she said as she gestured at it. “Just until I get back?”

Conrad's eyebrows rose. “Of course,” he replied automatically, as she knew he would.

“Great. Thanks. And, after I get back, I'd really like to talk with you.”

The tightening of his mouth suggested he had a very good idea what the subject of that talk would be. Still he nodded in acquiescence. “Very well. I'm sure that can be arranged.”

Julie was halfway through the door when a final thought struck her, and made her turn back once again. “You know, if you have some time, there's a picture in there that I don't think you've seen yet. Maybe you want to take a look?”

Out in the foyer, Brennan was not alone. Julie bit back a growl at the sight of Christian hovering around him, crowding him, looking at him in a way that was far too intense for her liking.

Vampires!
She growled softly as she strode across the foyer.
Always so greedy.
She supposed she should be more understanding, since it was a trait she probably shared, but seriously, they all needed to work on getting some control.

“What's going on, guys?” she asked as she came up beside them. She laid one hand on Brennan's arm, offering comfort and support. The other she placed on Christian's chest, ready to push him away, if need be. Ready to snap and snarl—or, if she were honest, ready to bite the shit out of him—if he didn't back off.
Down, girl!
she admonished herself sternly.

She knew that Christian probably didn't think he was doing anything wrong. And she'd probably have a hard time finding anyone in the entire Quintano clan who'd disagree with him. But there was something about Brennan that stirred up all her latent protective-possessive traits and sent them surging to the fore. It had always been that way, but
never
more than right this minute. Brennan had enough going on in his life at the moment. He didn't need any more damn vampires hitting on him.

Christian surprised her, however. For once, he took the hint and backed up a step. “Brennan's been telling me about this unfortunate situation that's occurred with his son.”

Julie nodded. “Yeah, I know. We're gonna go take care of that right now.”

Christian looked surprised. “Are we? I understood Conrad wasn't going to get involved?”

“He's involved,” Julie corrected. “I just feel like there's more that can be done to find Parker. So I'm going to do it.”

“Excellent.” Christian smiled warmly at her—looking far more cheery than the situation warranted. “I assume you plan to enlist your brother's help?”

“Marc? Why?”

“Well, I mean, it seems we're looking for some very unscrupulous people. Who better to know about the city's more unsavory characters than Marc's ferals?”

As ideas go, that's not a bad one.
Still, “Yeah, let's not phrase it like that when we talk to Marc.”

Christian flashed her a wink. “No. Least said, soonest mended, eh? Best to keep that part to ourselves.” He looked charming and eager. Julie felt herself frowning as Christian bent to retrieve a small, black backpack from the floor. Why did he seem so excited? So pleased?

“Shall we go?”

And why did he seem so prepared? In the back of her mind, warning bells rang. The pack went perfectly with the rest of Christian's outfit. Black pullover, black slacks, black soft-soled shoes. All he needed were gloves and a black watch-cap and he could easily masquerade as a cat-burglar. What were the odds she'd find both those missing items in his backpack?

She shook her head. “I think it's probably best if we go alone—just me and Brennan, I mean. My brother's not that fond of company. In case you didn't notice the other night, he's not a real ‘people person'. In fact…” She cast a dubious look at Brennan. “Maybe I should just go myself.” Surely she could trust Conrad and Damian to keep him safe for her…couldn't she?

“Jules. No,” Brennan whispered. “I'm
not
staying here. Parker's out there somewhere. I have to find him—I have to. You
know
what it's like.”

Julie nodded. She did. She'd felt the same way the night Marc was kidnapped. She reached for Brennan's hand and gave it a quick squeeze, remembering how, with a similar gesture, Brennan had comforted her then.

“Good. It's settled.” Christian started toward the front door. “We'll all go.”

“No.” Julie shook her head, refusing to budge. “I'm sorry, Christian, but I
don't
want you coming with us.” She had enough on her plate right now. She had Brennan to watch out for, that damn warehouse to revisit; she didn't need to add keeping an eye on Christian to her list. And if he came with them, she
would
be keeping an eye on him—but only when she couldn't spare two eyes.
I don't trust you right now.
She didn't know why that was and there was no time to puzzle it out. But until she knew why he was wigging her out, she was keeping her distance.

Emotions flashed through Christian's eyes—fear, fury, despair, disbelief—otherwise, his expression didn't change at all. And that, more than anything else, terrified Julie. There was no reason he should be this upset. There was no reason he should be making this much of an effort to hide his feelings from her. Unless, of course, there was…

“Jules, c'mon.” Brennan's voice was nearly a whimper. “Please. We're wasting time.”

Julie nodded. But Christian was still standing between them and the door, and she suddenly didn't want Brennan coming any closer to him than he already was. She shot a quick glance at the door to the salon. All she had to do was raise her voice and Conrad and Damian would come running. She was pretty sure Christian knew that. Hopefully, he didn't also know that they'd probably pitch a fit when they found out where she was going.

“Okay, look,” he said as he raised his hands in a gesture she figured was one part surrender and two parts delay tactics. “Before you go, just give me five minutes of your time. That's all I'm asking. Five minutes. Upstairs. You and me. How about it? I just really need to talk to you. Please. It's important.”

It was a stupid idea, a really stupid idea. But if she could really end this standoff that quickly, that easily? Hell yeah, she'd take the chance. Julie gave Brennan's hand another squeeze—half apology, half reassurance—and nodded reluctantly. “Okay. Five minutes. But that's all you're getting.”

“Now, what's so important?” Julie demanded after she'd followed Christian into his room. “I'm in a hurry, remember?” She glanced around curiously. It was the smaller of the suite's two bedrooms—no surprise there. The last time she'd been here, this room had functioned as Damian's wardrobe. The only reminder of that particular incarnation was a set of somewhat utilitarian wire shelves that still covered one entire wall. Now, however, instead of the stacks of neatly folded shirts and scarves and sweaters and other wardrobe essentials they used to hold, the shelves were home to what appeared to be the components of a very large and involved chemistry set. There were glass bottles and beakers, Petri dishes, a row of test-tubes, a microscope and several boxes of glass slides—along with books and locked file boxes and other items whose purpose she couldn't begin to guess at.

Vaguely, she recalled seeing similar equipment at the warehouse the night they'd gone to rescue Marc. Is that where all of this had come from? She knew Conrad had put Georgia in charge of dismantling Audrey's lab, cataloging her experiments, cleaning up the mess he'd left in his wake, disposing of the bodies…

Damn. No wonder Damian had been so short tempered with her tonight. No one with her memories had a right to be shocked, had a right to complain about veiled hints of potential violence.

“I need you to trust me,” Christian said, taking her hands in his. The desperation in his eyes sent icy rivers of apprehension rushing through her veins. “Can you do that for me, Julie? Please? This is important.”

Julie forced herself to glance away. “Christian…” She wished she
could
trust him—or at least tell him that she did. At this moment, she wished that more than almost anything else. “You're frightening me.” She pulled her hands away. “I can't do this right now. I'm sorry, but this is…” Too much. Too crazy. Too…weird. “It's just going to have to wait until I get back.” Preferably with an army in tow.

She smiled nervously as she edged toward the door. “I realize this probably doesn't seem like that big a deal to you—and please don't take that the wrong way—but there's a sweet little boy who's in danger. That's what I have to focus on. That's what's important tonight. This, on the other hand…” She gestured at the space between them. “Whatever this is…I just don't have time for it.”

“Don't worry about the boy,” Christian answered insistently. “He'll be fine. I promise.”

“You can't promise something like that!” She knew why he was saying it: it's what you said when you had no other comfort to offer. It was the same thing she'd told Brennan. Never had her words seemed so empty, her reassurances so useless… “I need to get out of here.”

“I'm mucking this up, aren't I?” Christian said on a heavy sigh.

She inched away. He followed after her. Then he grabbed her hands again and swung her away from the door. She growled in frustration. “Stop!”

“I'm sorry, truly sorry that it came to this. And I promise I
will
make it up to you, if you'll let me, and to Brennan. But what I'm doing is so dreadfully important. Far more important than you can possibly understand. And you…you are so very special, so wonderfully unique, so…miraculous, really. You're a bloody miracle; do you even know that? There are no other words to describe it. I knew you were important. I knew it the moment you healed those cuts on my neck. Do you even know the night I'm talking about? It was several months ago, but—”

“Yes, I remember. But what does that have to do with anything? And why are we talking about it now?”

“You have no idea what that meant to me, I realize that. There's no way you could know, but I have been searching for this—for you—for ages.” He broke off on a laugh. “Literally for ages. Centuries.”

Wow. “Okay, that's…” Julie broke off in confusion.
That's what, Julie? How do you plan on finishing that sentence? That's nice? That's sweet of you to say? That's omigod, completely fucking deranged, get away from me, you creep?
“This is not the best time for this.”

“I know!” Christian laughed again. “Oh, sweet girl, believe me, I know. It's a terrible time, and that's partially my fault. But if you'll just hear me out…”

“Christian!” Georgia's voice, hoarse and low, sliced through the air like a whip, or a knife, an arrow, a sliver of glass—something sharp and edgy. If Julie didn't know better, she'd have sworn Christian had actually been struck. He jerked back, sucking in a quick, painful breath. When his hands went momentarily slack, she took the opportunity to wrench herself free.