Spartan Resistance (16 page)

“I guessed,” he said gently. “Your type is more like the Spartan.”

She kept her gaze steady, not giving away anything. “Even though you’re not my type, I would very much like to see you again. If that is agreeable to you?”

His smile formed slowly, but it was warm and genuine.

The taxi beeped briefly, behind them.

“Go,” she said.

He pressed his hand against her cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Yes,” she agreed heartily, for now the air between them
was
good.

* * * * *

As she was drifting off to sleep, her private comm code beeped softly and she cracked one eye open and groggily read the screen.

If the Agency bigwigs haven’t grounded you, may I see you tomorrow night? Somewhere local, no jump cars involved, guaranteed.
 

She smiled to herself as sleep took her.

The small, warm glow didn’t go away the next day, either, as she moved through her morning. After doing rounds, checking in on all the major areas in the villa, she headed back to the command center, intending to pass through to Nayara’s office.

Brenden was at the big table. So were Nayara and Rob. Ryan, too. Plus Kieran, the ex-Universal Warden. Mariana liked Kieran, although she wasn’t sure why. He rarely spoke to her, or anyone. He kept to himself and she had never had a chance to learn much about him.

They all looked up at her as she entered. Her warm glow evaporated, just like that. “What’s wrong?”

Nayara moved around the table. “There were more developments overnight. Reactions to the videos that hit the nets.”

“Developments?”

“Some don’t like that yer thick with vampires,” Rob said. “But they’re in the minority.”

“That doesn’t make them any less of a threat,” Brenden growled.

Her pulse jumped. “
Threat
?”

Nayara held up her hand. “There has been some mail….”

“Hate mail,” Brenden said. “Don’t minimize it. She deserves to know it all.”

“People...
hate
...me?”

Ryan stirred. “Hate mail isn’t about the subject. It’s about what the subject represents. They don’t hate
you.
They don’t know you. But they fear vampires and you clearly like and value vampires, so you’ve become a good target for them to unleash their fears upon. It’s nothing personal.”

Mariana stared at him. “But I checked my mail this morning and there was nothing in it but the usual junk.”

“We intercepted the bad stuff,” Nayara told her. “Sorry, but I didn’t want you reading it over your morning coffee.”

“I’ve only been asleep for six hours and the world has stood on its head in the meantime,” Mariana said. “This is ridiculous! Why me? I’m...” She cut herself off, remembering what Laszlo had said.
You’re not nothing. You’re not Just Mary
. “I’m not one of you,” she said instead. “You’re all known. Public.”

“So are you, now,” Brenden said.

Kieran lifted his hand, drawing her attention. “Don’t worry. You will have the full protection of the agency. Deonne will put you through a crash course on surviving notoriety and everyone at the agency who has been through what you are going through will be there to help.”

“But….” Mariana pressed her lips together. “Yesterday, no one knew who I was. Are you saying that in a handful of hours I’ve become…what, exactly?”

From behind her, Deonne spoke. “You can spin it how you want, Mariana, but for right now, the public sees you as a human who believes in true equality for vampires.” She was dressed in her usual glamorous business suit, her hair pinned and glowing. It was strikingly different from the sleepy eyes, tousled hair and flats she had been wearing last night.

Deonne strode up to the table, her long legs swinging. That was another thing. Deonne never seemed to just walk anywhere. She always moved with her hips swaying, drawing attention to her legs. Even childbirth hadn’t changed her essential shape, although her hips were bigger than they used to be.

She placed both hands on the edge of the table. “You have a real opportunity here, Mariana. What you do with it is up to you.”

Mariana looked down at the tabletop, where stills from the videos were spread for everyone to see. “Some are already calling me a vampire-lover and sending me hate mail. That’s not going to stop if I keep speaking up.”

“It’s the flip side of fame,” Nayara said softly.

“But it doesn’t matter what you do,” Ryan added. “Someone is always going to disapprove or not like it for some reason. You can’t pick your course based upon pleasing everyone because it’s not possible. You need to decide what the right path is for you.”

“You can disappear for a week or two,” Deonne said. “The agency could take you back to some time, let you hide out in perfect comfort and safety. When you get back, this will be over and you can go back to being Mariana Jones, private citizen.”

Mariana frowned. “I have a date tonight,” she said slowly.

Brenden swore softly and rolled his eyes. “Because
that
should dictate what you do.”

Nayara looked at him steadily.

Brenden sighed. “My apologies,” he said roughly, to Mariana.

“I
was
going to say,” Mariana began again, “that I have a date tonight, with Laszlo Wolffe. If I want to run with this, the date should be as public as possible. Laszlo draws attention wherever he goes.”

“You’re going to use Wolffe to draw attention to yourself?” Ryan asked.

She shook her head. “He’s already a public figure. Just standing close to him will do the trick. But I haven’t decided anything, yet. I need to think and I can’t do it with Brenden glaring at me and the rest of you tapping your fingers.”

Brenden straightened up like he had been slapped.

Nayara was trying not to smile, but Mariana recognized the little quirk in the corner of her mouth. “Very well,” she said. “We’ll let you consider it. But you will need to make a decision fast. There are preparations we need to make if you decide to go ahead with this.”

“Thank you,” Mariana told her. “Deonne, could I speak to you in your office?”

“Of course.”

Everyone else left the room, except for Brenden, who stood at the table watching them. Mariana looked back at him steadily. “Is there something you want to say?”

His black eyes were unreadable. “If you do this, if you step up publically on the side of vampires and vampire rights, Wolffe isn’t the one to have at your side.”

“Are you volunteering?”

He scowled. “Don’t deflect me. I’m making a valid point.”

“And that would be?”

“Wolffe is a lightweight. His reputation is a joke. He’ll weaken your message.”

“Brenden, that’s—” Deonne began, but Mariana held up her hand, halting her.

“It’s alright, Deonne,” she said and looked at Brenden. “I think you’ve underestimated the power of the message and Wolffe, too.”

“Maybe,” Brenden said slowly. “But if she’s doing her job properly, Deonne will warn you about the optics of spending time with a man that has never proven himself except as a fucker of beautiful women.”

Mariana smiled sweetly, even though she felt sick with roiling tension. “Couldn’t the same thing be said about you?”

His expression grew thundery. “I don’t latch onto women for their political power.”

“No, you like their money and their status as permanently unavailable.”

Deonne drew in a breath sharply enough that Mariana could hear it. She gripped her arm. “Stop it, you two. That’s beyond enough.”

“I agree,” Mariana said coldly.

Brenden turned and stalked into his office. The door shut silently and turned dark.

“Holy mother Mary!” Deonne breathed. “I’ve never seen him so snarly before!”

“It’s me,” Mariana said with a sigh. “He doesn’t like me. I’m human and a woman and weak and…and a whole lot of other things he finds offensive.”

“That puts you in quite the pickle,” Deonne said. “No wonder you said yes when Laszlo Wolffe asked you out.”

“Excuse me?” Mariana asked, letting some of the same chill back into her tone.

Deonne gave her a small smile. “Never mind. Let’s go to my office. I have espresso on tap and I think we both need it.”

* * * * *

“No!” Brenden said flatly. “Absolutely not. You’d have to kill me first.”

Nayara’s expression grew chilly. “That could be arranged,” she said softly. “Kieran is right. You’re the best person for this.”

“Babysitting them on their date?” He threw his hands out. “Christ in a sidecar! There’s a whole security division and then there’s Kieran’s pet army down in the dungeon. You can’t find a single other person who can do it?”

“The affair Laszlo Wolffe is taking Mariana to is a black-tie charity affair. You know all those people. You’ve spent time with them and the faces are known to you. You will know instinctively if someone doesn’t fit in. That’s not something a raw recruit will be able to assess. You won’t get distracted by the glitter and the faces, either.”

Brenden realized that Nayara was quite serious. They were going to make him do this. He sat back in the visitor chair in front of Nayara’s big desk and pushed his hand through his hair. “You’re taking these silly letters seriously?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice civilized.

“If you had analyzed them properly yourself,” Nayara said, her voice as smooth as a muted trumpet, “then you would know that. Kieran has convinced me there is a credible threat. Plus, of course, with Mariana speaking on behalf of vampires, she will draw Gabriel’s attention, too. Although I don’t think that has occurred to her, yet.”

“It won’t make any difference if she does figure it out,” Brenden said gruffly, “and she will. She has learned way too much from us.” He gripped his hands together. “If Gabriel takes a run at her, I can’t hold him or his people back by myself.”

“I’ll cover that possibility,” Kieran said shortly. “Just be her personal body-guard. She may need it.”

“You can’t talk her out of this silly stunt?” Brenden asked.

“It’s her choice,” Nayara said flatly, “and I admire her for it. She knows there are risks but she’s doing it anyway, just because she believes it is the right thing to do.”

Brenden couldn’t think of anything to say to counter that. But he didn’t like it. Not at all. He had a lot of complaints about this business, including being relegated to bodyman, having Nayara pissed at him, Mariana’s sudden and inexplicable antipathy toward him, watching her with Wolffe, even Wolffe himself—but all of that was nothing compared to being forced to watch over Mariana and Wolffe on a date.

Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2265 A.D.

Brenden buried himself in work for the rest of the day and managed to forget about the evening ahead…or at least, not think about it for longer than ten seconds at a time.

Just before sunset, Nayara tapped him on the arm. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Ready?” he asked blankly.

“You’re going to need black tie attire yourself. You need to blend in.”

He had forgotten…or had chosen to not remember. He growled under his breath.

“Noted,” Nayara said with a serene smile. “Go on. Rob’s here, we’re covered.”

Brenden closed down the files on the tabletop with impatient prods and swipes. “Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut?” he demanded.

“Because it’s Mariana,” Nayara replied with the same serene tone she had been using all day whenever Mariana and her ball came up.

Rob was working at the other end of the table on something else. Something normal and not related in any way with the whole stupid affair. He looked up at Brenden’s question. “If she had said no, if she’d chosen to duck out and hide until this was all over, what would ye have thought of that? My guess is ye wouldn’t have liked that nearly as much as her standing up for what she believes in.”

Brenden didn’t answer. He couldn’t find a civil answer. He stalked back to his quarters and changed into an evening suit. He had several, for he always seemed to be invited to the big glittery affairs.

Where the rich, permanently unavailable women were to be found.

He realized he was growling as he dressed. His incisors had descended. He made them retract, shaking off his temper. He wouldn’t be an effective guard if he was steaming from the ears and after reviewing the same files that Kieran had already been over, Brenden knew there was a real chance Mariana would need a guard tonight. He’d never let anyone through his guard before and wouldn’t allow it to happen now. Just because he was guarding someone and not fighting on the field of battle shouldn’t make a difference. As a Spartan, it would be dishonorable to fail.

So. He wouldn’t fail.

Having settled it in his mind, Brenden stalked back to the command center, his double tie undone. He hated the things and hated tying them even more, so Nayara could step up and help, as she had been doing all day.

Mariana was already there and waiting and Brenden found his steps slowing as he took in the impact of her appearance.

The dress she was wearing looked like it was made of flowers and vines—the top half of it, anyway. It was the same blue as her eyes and the vines and flowers trailed over her breasts, up over her shoulders, growing thinner as they climbed. The bottom half of the dress was solid blue, dropping to the floor. Behind her, he could see that it swept out in folds, trailing the ground.

More of the blue stuff was wrapped around her waist and Brenden narrowed his eyes…was her waist really that small? Her hips curved out from her waist in a way that made him want to put his hands around her narrow middle, just to see what she might do.

Mariana came toward him, the blue trailing behind her and drawing the material against her thighs.

It was only then he realized that there was no one else in the room. They had all scattered.

“Let me do that for you,” Mariana said.

“What?”

“Your tie. Let me tie it. The double knots are pesky things at the best of times and I have smaller fingers than you.”

His breath held as she reached up to pick up the ends of the tie and he looked down at her, confusion raging through him. Her hair had been swept up onto the top of her head in one of those complicated styles that nevertheless could tumble back down around her shoulders with the removal of a single clip, leaving a man tight with tension and possibilities…..