She appeared dead. Anger and despair began to swirl up to fill him with violence.
“She's alive. ”
Slowly, Cian's gaze was drawn to the man seated near the fireplace. Santos was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt splattered with red. He was drinking from a goblet and Cian could smell the blood. It was Amaliya's. It was a pure power play and he knew it. Etzli glided to her brother's side and leaned against the chair.
“Good evening, Santos,” Cian said, and bowed his head slightly. He gained control of his emotions and embraced the feeling of relief, knowing that Amaliya still lived.
“My friend, Cian, how wonderful it is to see you again,” Santos responded and rose slowly.
Cian reached out to grasp the man's hand that was proffered to him. Santos squeezed it hard enough to crush bone. Cian matched his pressure. Santos smiled and dropped his hand.
“I found your runaway. ” He motioned to Amaliya.
“I noticed,” Cian said, and put on his most neutral expression.
“She said she was dumped here. ” Santos dark eyes searched Cian's expression.
“She tends to lie. ” Cian shrugged.
“Really?” Santos arched an eyebrow. “She mentioned The Summoner. That he sent her here. ”
Cian tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. “She was probably. . . ” he looked up at her body. “. . . in pain and trying to save herself. ”
“But she knows of him. ”
“Of course. He made her,” Cian said and again shrugged. If he played it cool and calm about The Summoner, it would push Santos off kilter. Santos was used to him being in terror of his creator.
Santos' expression grew grim and he looked toward the young woman hanging over his floor. “So, you sent her here to deflect him from your city?”
“Of course not. But she is running from him. I've taken her in as part of my cabal, but she's used to being on her own. She ran away. ” A bit of the truth, a bit of a lie. Santos would know it, but he expected Cian to lie. But he would not know which part was the truth.
“So she is not your fledgling?”
“Of course not. I do not make vampire children. I hold my city on my own,” Cian answered coolly. It was a bit of a bitch slap at Santos, but again, the Master of San Antonio expected it.
“I see, my friend. So this girl, who you take in out of the kindness of your heart, runs away to my city with The Summoner in pursuit of her? And you expect me to believe this?”
Etzli slid her hand lightly over her brother's shoulder to soothe him, or perhaps encourage him. Cian wasn't sure which.
“You know what he does. He plays games. I am his child, too, you know, and he cut a swath of destruction behind me for years,” Cian reminded him. “You remember what he did to us in Mexico. ”
“So why did you take her in? She only brings him to you,” Santos said, his gaze intense and curious.
Cian looked up at Amaliya and her battered countenance. What answer would satisfy Santos? He could declare his love for her, but that wouldn't work. Or he could claim it was out of the kindness of his heart, but Santos would never believe that.
“She is what he is,” he said finally.
“What do you mean?” Santos looked confused and Etzli drew closer to him.
Cian could see Etzli's gaze grow cold and calculating as she looked toward Amaliya.
“I've only seen it once, but she can control the dead. She's not exactly sure how to control her power yet, but she can do it. I hope to hone her powers and make her my second,” Cian said.
From Santos' expression, this he believed and readily. “Then perhaps, I should keep her here. If she is what you say she is. ”
“If you do, The Summoner will sweep into San Antonio and do as he pleases,” Cian answered truthfully.
From Etzli came a small cough.