"Hard to believe it's been so long since all that trouble took place."
"Trouble?" Corinne asked as she sipped carefully at the hot tea. She couldn't deny that she was curious to know more, not only about the woman who'd opened her house to Hunter and her but also about the couple who seemed such an integral part of the Order.
"I don't like to dredge up bad memories, child, and this one's about the worst." She reached out to cover Corinne's hand with her own, giving it a little pat. "Too much blood was shed that night. Two lives nearly lost right outside on my front lawn. I knew Gideon was different the first moment I laid eyes on him - this being years before old age started stealing my sight, a'
course. I never would've guessed what he truly was, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. The gunshot wound should've killed him. The one that hit Savannah should've killed her too - would have, if he hadn't done what he did to save her. If he hadn't bitten into his own wrist and given her his blood."
Corinne realized she was holding her breath, listening in rapt fascination. "You saw him feed her ... you know what he is, Amelie?"
"Breed." The old woman nodded. "Yes, I know. They told me everything that night. They entrusted me with their lives, and it's a truth I mean to take to my grave when my time eventually comes." Amelie took a sip of her tea. "That man outside ... he's also one of Gideon's kind. Even a blind old woman like me can see that. He has a dark power about him. I felt it vibrating off him before he even got out of the car."
Corinne stared down into her mug. "Hunter is a bit ... intimidating, but I've seen the good in him. He's honorable and courageous, like you and Savannah know Gideon to be."
Amelie gave a low grunt. She was still holding Corinne's right hand, her thumb rubbing idly over the teardrop-and-crescent-moon birthmark. As she continued to trace the outline of the small mark, Corinne realized she was studying it. "It's just like hers," she murmured, her smooth brow creasing. "Savannah has this very same birthmark, except hers is on her left shoulder blade. Mama used to say it was the place where the fairies kissed her before placing her in Mama's womb. Then again, Mama was a bit touched herself."
Corinne smiled. "Every Breedmate is born with this mark somewhere on her body."
"Hmm," the old woman mused. "I guess that makes you and Savannah sisters of another kind, then, doesn't it?"
"Yes, I suppose it does," Corinne agreed, warmed from both the tea and her hostess's kind acceptance. "Have you lived here for a long time, Amelie?"
She gave a bob of her grayed head. "Seventy-two years I've been in this very spot. Born right in that other room, matter of fact. Same as Savannah, though by the time she came along, I was already grown and old enough to help deliver her. I've got twenty-four years on my baby sister."
Seventy-two years old, Corinne thought, studying the aged face and silvery gray hair. If not for the Ancient's blood that had been forced upon her all the time she'd been in Dragos's laboratory prison, her body would be roughly twenty years more weathered than Amelie Dupree's. It seemed ironic to her now that the very thing she despised - the life-giving nutrients from a creature not of this earth - had allowed her to survive Dragos's torture. It had kept her strong when all she'd wanted was to lie down and die. It was because of that alien blood that she had a son out there somewhere, a piece of her heart that she worried was slipping farther and farther out of her reach.>"What'd I tell you, Drake?" Bobby Clarence said, jerking his perfectly square chin in her direction as he took the gift and gave it a little rattle. "Secret weapon. She's always making me look better than I really am."
Tavia Fairchild seemed to take the praise in stride, remaining unflappably on task. "Shall I call down to the garage and ask them to bring the car around for you, Senator Clarence?"
"Yeah, that'd be great, Tavia. Thanks." The senator clapped Dragos companionably on the shoulder again as his pretty aide pivoted back toward her desk and picked up her phone to summon his driver. "Can I persuade you to come along, Drake? We could talk some more, and I'd be happy to introduce you to some of the good folks at tonight's First Responders benefit. I think you'd find a lot of like-minded individuals who'd enjoy sharing their thoughts with you on some of the things we've been discussing."
Dragos allowed an indulgent smile. "I'm afraid I couldn't possibly." His sights were set a bit higher than the union yokels of the city's firefighters and police departments. "Thank you for the offer. However, I really should go now."
"You sure?" the senator pressed with a winning grin. "The food alone will be worth it. Those guys love to eat. You would too, especially at five hundred bucks a plate, prepared by the best Italian chef in the North End."
"Alas," Dragos demurred, "I maintain a very strict diet. Italian food does not agree with me."
"Ah, I'm sorry to hear it." Bobby Clarence chuckled as he strode over to a nearby closet and shrugged into an expensive-looking silk-lined coat. "You will be at the holiday party tomorrow night at my place, won't you?"
Dragos gave him a nod. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Excellent. Tavia really knocked herself out, putting the whole shindig together for me -
right down to the hand-inscribed invitations."
"Is that so?" Dragos turned another appraising look on the young female, who had since retrieved her own coat and handbag and was in the process of shutting down her computer and putting the office phones on voicemail.
"I'm not supposed to announce this publicly," Senator Clarence added, "but we've confirmed a surprise guest of honor tomorrow evening. A good friend and mentor of mine from my Cambridge days. Someone I'm certain you'll be interested to meet, Drake."
Chapter Twenty
Although the young politician was playing at subtlety, Dragos needed no further hint to guess that the VIP and good friend of Bobby Clarence was none other than his favored college professor who had hitched his savvy wagon to another rising star and landed in the secondhighest seat of power in the country. It was that very connection that had made Bobby Clarence so valuable to Dragos.
By tomorrow night, Dragos would own the minds - and souls - of both men.
"Until then," he said, reaching out to the senator and giving the unsuspecting human's hand an enthusiastic pump. He glanced at Bobby Clarence's pretty assistant and offered a courtly bow of his head. "Miss Fairchild, a pleasure to finally meet you."
With her shrewd gaze following him, and the senator's optimistic good-bye echoing into the adjacent hallway, Dragos exited the office and headed for the elevator. By the time he reached the street level and climbed into his own waiting limousine, his cheeks burned from the wide spread of his contented, unabashedly eager, smile.
It took about an hour to make the drive to the safe house the Order had arranged for them. They were several miles off the highway, traveling along an unpaved road that led them deeper into an area of low-lying marshlands and clusters of eerie, moss-strewn cypress. As Hunter made a turn into an unmarked driveway - Corinne assumed it was a driveway - the car's headlights illuminated several pairs of glowing yellow eyes hovering at ground level up ahead. The dense scrub brush shook as the swamp creatures hiding within it scurried back into the gloom of their wild domain.