In the Dark (11 page)

“As it happens, I'm currently in residence at the mansion myself,” Drew continued, apparently oblivious to Marc's confusion. “Perhaps that's where I saw you. I assume you're staying there as well?”

Marc nodded. “Yes. Damian hooked us up with rooms.”

“Did he?” Drew nodded. “I see. That's one mystery solved then, isn't it? We've all known for days he was expecting someone. Obviously, it was you.”

“What other mysteries are you trying to solve?” Julie asked, turning finally to face him.

Drew's smile widened, but Marc couldn't help noticing there was still a hint of something shuttered in his gaze. “I don't know. Are there other mysteries to solve?”

“Didn't you just say there were?”

“I suppose one could make the claim that life is full of mysteries.”

“Well, how about we eliminate one?” Marc suggested dryly. “Were you at the party last night? 'Cause, if you were, that would explain where you'd seen us.”

“It would, wouldn't it?” Drew agreed, his gaze shifting once again to Marc's face. “So, if I might ask, what brings you two to town?”

“Just visiting,” Marc replied casually. “Damian suggested we might enjoy a trip to the city. We were hoping to see Conrad as well, while we're here, but it seems we've missed him.”

“Armand said he might be traveling,” Julie added, smiling encouragingly at Drew. “You wouldn't happen to know where he's gone, would you?”

Drew sighed. “Sadly, no. I'm not generally among those who Conrad takes into his confidence.”

There was a sudden rise in the volume of conversation near the bar and Drew half-turned toward the sound, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me,” he said, his frown momentarily changing back into an apologetic smile. “I should get back there. I'll look forward to seeing you both again.”

“Wait,” Julie said, stopping him as he was about to walk away. “You weren't in Golden Gate Park earlier tonight, were you?”

Drew's eyebrows rose. “No. Why do you ask?”

“I thought perhaps I'd seen you there.”

“Did you?” He studied her for a moment, then shook his head. “Again, no. I'm afraid you're mistaken. Although I am known to hunt there, upon occasion, tonight I dined elsewhere.” Then he inclined his head in a slight nod and strode back toward the bar.

“The park?” Marc turned on his sister in a fury. “What the hell was that about? Why would you ask him something like that?”

“I wanted to see what he'd say,” Julie replied stubbornly. “I have a feeling it's important and I wanted to find out whether or not he'd lie about it.”

“Oh, a feeling,” Marc growled in frustration. “Well, great. Why didn't you say so? There's just a coupla problems, though. If it
is
important—and he knows it—we just tipped our hand. And, either way, since you weren't actually there yourself, we still have no way to know if he's lying.”

 

 

It was almost dawn when they arrived back at the mansion. Brennan had already gone off duty, Julie was disappointed to notice. Not that she was actually hungry again, but having constant access to a ready supply of warm food was a luxury—one she'd never been able to indulge in before. It was making her greedy, or maybe she was just being practical. Surely, a sip or two before bed would improve anyone's mood. Except maybe Marc's.

“Well, that was a colossal waste of time,” her brother muttered, preceding her into her room and collapsing across her bed.

Julie gazed at him in annoyance. “Why is it you're always hanging out in my room?” she asked, as she went to sit by the window. “Your room has a bed in it too, doesn't it?”

“What's the difference?” Marc grumbled, pulling her pillow over his eyes. “You weren't using it, were you? Gah, I'm so frustrated by this place. I feel like we talked to every vampire in the city tonight and yet, going by Damian's list, we've only just scratched the surface. We've got hella more clubs still to check out.”

“I know,” Julie sighed. “And all we've got so far is one measly suspect.”

“We have a suspect?” Pushing the pillow away, Marc lifted his head and frowned at her. “What did I miss? What suspect?”

Julie looked at him in surprise. “Well, Drew, of course.”

“Oh, right,” Marc snorted. “Drew. Exactly what do you suspect him of, anyway? Other than poaching. 'Cause, I gotta tell you, Jules, if it comes down to it, he could probably say the same about you, and with much better cause.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Julie scoffed. “There's all sorts of reasons to suspect him.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “First of all, he admitted he hangs out in the park, right?”

“So what? Forget the park, it proves nothing. I'm sure a lot of people hang out there. It's a tourist attraction. Free food.”

“Two. He admitted Conrad doesn't trust him.”

Marc sighed. “Jules, Conrad doesn't trust
anybody
. That's why we're all in this mess. If he'd only told Damian where he was going, he'd have been home weeks ago.”

“Stop making excuses,” Julie snapped. “What about all the mysteries, huh?”

“What mysteries?” Marc gazed at her blankly.

“Exactly,” she purred in triumph. “Drew definitely hinted about there being multiple mysteries tied to this house—which
we
know is true, but how would he know that?”

Marc shook his head. “I think that was him trying to flirt with you.”

“Yeah? Well, in case you didn't notice, he also never answered you when you asked if he'd been at the party last night. So, how do we even know he was telling the truth about having seen us there?”

“The party?” Marc sat up and glared at her. “Are you joking? I only mentioned that to distract him. I thought we'd already established that he probably recognized
you
from earlier tonight. And, if we're right about that, then maybe one of the ‘mysteries' he was hinting at was what the hell you were doing squatting in the bushes, spying on him while he fed.”

Julie's face flamed. “I was not spying on him. But, now that you mention it, here's another thing. His manner tonight at the club was totally different from how he behaved with Brennan. He wasn't nearly as formal. Even the way he talked to him was different.”

Mumbling something beneath his breath, Marc rolled to his feet.

“What'd you say?” Julie watched in surprise as her brother stalked toward his room. “Hello? Talking here. Are you going somewhere?”

Marc sighed. “No, what's the point? You can't run from yourself, right?” His shoulders sagged. He turned back around and stared at her sadly. “What I said was, ‘we all do it'. Okay? I don't like it any better than you, but that's the truth. We all treat our
food
, different than we do each other. And the way we behave with people we trust is different from the way we behave with those we don't. You saw how Damian was acting last night—the way he was dressed, the way he talked to the others. He ordered them to leave and they all just hightailed it outta there. Did he ever once behave like that when he lived with us?”

Ignoring her brother's accusation—she was
not
a snob, damn it, she did
not
treat her prey any different from other people—Julie shrugged. “I don't know. Damian's always been…flamboyant. I can remember him joining in when we played dress-up as kids. Can't you? Also, you can't tell me you think he and Conrad were ever the most lenient of parents. They ordered us around plenty when we were kids.”

“When we were
kids
,” Marc repeated, emphasizing the last word. “Yeah. That's different and you know it.”

Julie shrugged again. Okay, fine, maybe Marc had a small point. She still wasn't willing to concede it though—at least not out loud. She curled herself up in her chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I don't know why we're talking about this now anyway.” Talking about Conrad like this, bringing up the past—a time when they'd been happy, when they'd all been safe—could only have one result, could only leave her feeling more frightened, more lost, more hungry. What if they couldn't find Conrad in time? What then? “How is any of this gonna help us find him, Marc?”

His face grim, Marc returned to sit on the bed. “It's not. But neither is fixating on Drew simply because you caught him feeding on someone you want for yourself.”

“That is
not
why I'm fixated on him,” Julie insisted, stung by her brother's criticism. Could it be he was right? “I mean, if I was fixated—which I'm not—that wouldn't be why. I told you all the reasons why I think he qualifies as a suspect and they have nothing to do with me. Or with Brennan.”

“Yeah? Well, they also don't have a lot to do with making sense.” Marc shook his head. “Think about it, Jules. Why would someone who's living here need to lure Conrad away? If he wanted to overpower him, in some fashion, it would have to be tons easier to attack him in his sleep, or while he was feeding or something, wouldn't it? And, assuming Brennan is even telling the truth and Conrad really
was
headed for the park the night he disappeared, that makes it even less likely that the person we're looking for is someone who's that closely associated with Conrad or the nest. Hell, if even the gate guard knows about Conrad's dislike of the park, don't you think his own people might?”

“What do you mean ‘if he's telling the truth'? You think he's lying?”

“Not necessarily. I just think he's too vague about when it happened. It could have been some other night, for all we know.”

“So, two unusual events occur in close proximity and you don't think it would be
more odd
if they weren't connected?”

Marc shrugged. “Good point. It still suggests someone outside the nest, however. Which means it could be almost anyone.”

“Unless that's what we're supposed to think,” Julie countered, trying to ignore the way her heart felt, all twisted up with fear.

We're not getting anywhere. We're never going to find him. He's going to die and we're never going to see him again and it will all be our fault.

“Maybe, whoever it was sent Conrad to the park in order to trick him into believing they were someone they weren't, someone who would have no reason to know how he feels about the place. Besides, didn't Damian say that we shouldn't trust anyone within the nest? Obviously he doesn't think we should just write them off as suspects.”

“That's not what he said.” Marc shook his head emphatically. “Not exactly. He said we couldn't trust them to get to Conrad before we did. I don't think he meant to suggest it was one of us who was behind the plot to…to abduct him, or, or whatever.” His voice slid to a halt. “What?” he asked, frowning at her.

Julie gaped at her brother.
One of us?
Was she hearing things? Had her uptight, don't-call-me-vampire brother really just referred to himself in so clannish a manner? “N-n-nothing,” she all but stuttered in surprise. Oh, if only things were different. She'd tease him unmercifully about this. But, as things stood now— “Never mind. I just…well, I just don't see how it's going to help us to eliminate suspects without even considering what their motives might be. How are we ever going to figure out
who
took him if we can't figure out
why
?”

“
Why
isn't the problem,” Marc said, sounding suddenly very certain. “Let's assume Damian is right. If whoever has Conrad is holding him somewhere until he's worn down enough that they can kill him and take over the nest, then I think we can safely conclude that
taking over the nest
would have to be the reason why they're holding him in the first place. Right?”

Assume? “You know what they say about people who assume, don't you?” Julie replied darkly.

Marc sighed. “Look, we have to start somewhere. When scientists are trying to solve a problem
they
always start with a basic assumption, why shouldn't the same thing work for us as well? Besides, if we assume we know
why
they took him, then all we really have to do is figure out
who
and, hopefully, that will give us
where
. And, once we know that…”

“We should be able to find him.” Julie shook her head. “That makes sense, I guess. Or maybe it doesn't and I'm too tired to think straight.”

“That would make two of us,” Marc agreed. Getting up, he headed once again for his room. “Let's get some sleep. We'll check in with Damian in the evening, and see if he thinks we're on the right track.”

“Marc?” Julie called, stopping him before he disappeared. “You really think we'll find him, don't you?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Absolutely”

“What makes you so sure?” she asked, hoping for something she could cling to, some small measure of reassurance.

But Marc's smile held little to comfort her. “Because if I allowed myself to think anything else, I wouldn't be able to function.”

Julie sighed and nodded. Not quite the answer she'd been hoping for.

She watched as Marc turned away again and disappeared into his own room, then she reached for the curtains at her window and pulled them aside. She was hoping there was still a little dark left, but the champagne shade of the fog outside her window told her morning had already arrived. It was no time for her kind to be out and about, no time to be hunting. She still wasn't hungry, but the thrill of the chase would have been good, it would have done a lot to relax her.

She was turning away from the window when she heard the knock on her bedroom door.
Brennan?
Hope rose within her. She was halfway to the door before reality intruded.
No, it can't be. What am I thinking?
How would Brennan have found her room? Why would he even be in the house?
It's probably just
Damian
,
she decided as she reached for the door. And, really, wasn't that even better? Blood was all well and good, but she could think of nothing that would be more comforting than a brief return to the safety of childhood.