They exchanged a look, one of those familiar, it’d take too long to explain the inside joke looks.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“You’re better off not knowing,” Ben said.
Now I wanted to run to the nearest Internet connection and dig up what nefarious plot these two had cooked up in the distant past. At least, I assumed it was the distant past.
Maybe I should get a different lawyer. Except it would take too long to explain everything to a new one.
I wanted to show the list to Alette, both to find out if she knew any of the Homo sapiens sanguinis represented, and to rat out Leo. Yeah, I was tattling, and it hadn’t felt this good since I was eight and ratted out my twelve-year-old sister’s stash of R-rated videos. If she’d only let me watch with her, she could have kept the TV in her room.
I rushed into the foyer, pausing a moment to debate whether to look in the parlor or the dining room, or find Emma or Bradley and ask them where’d she be. Think, if I were the head vampire, where would I be?
A touch brushed my shoulder. I gasped and turned, shock frying my nerves. Leo stood behind me, calmly, as if he’d been there all evening, watching the scenery. I could have sworn he hadn’t been in the foyer when I entered the house. But I hadn’t sensed him approach, I hadn’t seen him, smelled him, or heard him.
“Hello, there,” he said lightly. “Can I help you with something?”
I wanted to punch him. “What the hell is your problem?”
“You’re so easy to rile up, can you blame a man for trying?”
“Yes, yes, I can.”
“Ah. Well, then.” He strolled, circling around me, blocking the exits.
He was teasing me. That was all. Provoking me, like he said. I took a deep breath, determined to calm down.
“I have a question for you,” I said, trying to sound bright and unperturbed. “What do you know about Dr. Flemming?”
He shrugged. “Government researcher. What would you like me to know?”
“I’ve spoken with him. Your name came up.” Both were true, in themselves.
“Really? What did he say about me?”
“Nothing. He’s closemouthed. That’s why I’m asking you.”
“And I’m openmouthed, am I?” He smiled to show teeth and fang. Then his expression softened. “I might have spoken with him a time or two.”
“About what?”
“This and that. About being a vampire. I was—how would you c
all it?—a native informant.” He started pacing, hands in his trouser pockets, gaze downturned. “I’ll give him this much, he knows his subject. At least, he knows enough to know where to find us, if he wants to. Then, would you believe he simply asks nicely? He proves how much he knows, and you don’t feel bad about answering his questions. You become just another data point. There’s nothing more to it.”
I had a hard time picturing Flemming traveling the streets, finding his way to a place like the Crescent, notepad and tape recorder in hand, and asking nicely.
“What did you tell him? What’s it like being a vampire?”
He looked away for a moment, his gaze distant and thoughtful. It seemed he did have another personality buried in there somewhere.
“Time almost stands still,” he said. “The world seems to freeze for a moment. You’re able to study every little piece of it. All the microscopic points become clear. And you move through this world like a lion on the veldt. You realize everything is yours for the taking. All you have to do is reach out and grab hold of anything you like. Anyone you like.”
In the next beat of time he stood beside me. Brushing my hair aside, he breathed against my neck, a faint, warm sigh. No teeth, no threat, only a caress. I shivered, but didn’t move away from him. For some reason, I didn’t move away.
“Is that what you expected to hear?” he said.
I turned and glared. But he hadn’t done anything. They were only words.