Last Enchantment

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Tegan opened her eyes muzzily. She didn’t recognize her surroundings, but she was wrapped warmly in a bed with Oliver lying by her side. He wore dark green silk pajama bottoms, and it struck her as absurd. “Why are you wearing those?”

He grinned. “I had to get up a few times. Get you water, food. I thought I’d better not scare the people who brought it to me.”

“Where are we?”

“Still in my country house, but in my apartment. I can restrict who has access here a whole lot better, and we’ve needed that. I wanted to take you away, but there are other things I wanted to sort out. Here.” He held a glass of cool water to her lips. Ice clinked at the rim. She sipped and made an appreciative sound when the coolness slipped down her throat.

“That’s good. Thanks.” She paused and took stock. She felt much better than she had a right to. She saw the whole incident as if it happened to someone else, like she was looking down a telescope the wrong way. Small, sharply focused figures, far away. “So what happens now?”

“What do you remember?”

She could understand why he looked at her so warily. “I’m a vampire, aren’t I?” She glanced toward the windows. The drapes were open, the sharp, spring light of day filtering through the windows.

“You are.” He wasn’t giving anything away.

“I remember a whole lot. But not the actual moment. Pity.” She frowned. “I’d have liked to have remembered that.”

When she made to sit up, he helped her, packing pillows behind her to lean against. She growled her disapproval. “I’m not an invalid.”

“Yes, you are. You might feel fine, but come night time, you’ll weaken.” He paused. “You’ll have to feed.”

Her gaze flew to his, and startlement jolted her out of her complacency at finding herself in one piece and still alive. “How do I do that? Do I do it with you?”

“Instinct will show you, and no, you won’t feed from me, not at first. You need the nutrition a non-vampire can give you. Spartan has volunteered. Mortals are best, but we’ll work up to that.”

“Wrist?”

He growled. “Any more and he might have me to deal with.”

She laughed. “Why?”

He stared at her, and his expression changed, masked over. “No reason.” He put distance between them, and she had no idea why.

She frowned. “Am I missing something here?”

She ached. Every bit of her, as if she’d done a long workout at the gym. But she knew what had happened, that was clear enough. Although other things weren’t. She couldn’t read the part of her that was—her. She felt remote, as if a part of her was missing, but there was a whole lot of new stuff in there.

“No.” He hopped off the bed with enviable athleticism and headed for a tallboy by the door. He dragged out a T-shirt, which he pulled over his head. A shame, because he had a very nice body. But—a vampire? She was a vampire?

Tentatively, she tried using a sense she’d lost after her rape. Can you hear me?

He spun around, his hands stilled by his side, clenched into fists. Yes, yes! Do it again!

She felt him withdraw, so she had to reach out to him. It’s like coming home.

It’s wonderful to hear you so clearly again. If I’m not mistaken, you have strong telepathy. What was your specialty before? He didn’t have to say before what.

Telekinesis. Staring at a key on the bedside table, she raised it. But only half an inch or so, and it made sweat break out on her forehead. She swiped the moisture with the sheet, and then dragged the fabric up to cover her body, blushing. She still wasn’t ready to wander around naked, as other Talents did. “What happened to my clothes?”

After a significant pause, he finally spoke. “You didn’t feed neatly.” Ah, blood.

He tossed her a garment, soft and white. Another T-shirt. She managed to slip it on without revealing any more of her than her shoulders, shy in his presence. Something lurked at the back of her mind. What was it? But every time she tried to chase it, it escaped her. They were working on a case together, and in the course of it, Marcus had turned her. In many ways, she was Marcus now. And that meant she had information to share. “I think it’s safe to say that telekinesis isn’t a specialty. I can use it, but it hurts.”

“It might get better in time.” Instead of returning to his place on the bed, he dragged a chair to the side she was on. “I’m sorry to press you, but we need to know some things, although others are getting clearer.”

“What?”

Instead of telling her, he reached out and took her hand. A jolt of—something—shot between them, but she found it pleasant rather than otherwise, so she let him hold it. Nice. “Your sister is missing.”

“Virginia?” Stupid question, but she was still feeling a bit groggy. Oh, yes, Virginia was bodyguard and lover to Marcus. She remembered that well enough, although, thankfully, not the intimate part. Just the dry facts. As she concentrated, something else came to her, creeping up like a remembered memory, although it was new to the part of her that was still Tegan. “She was controlling him.”

His hold tightened. “What do you mean?” He spoke carefully, quietly.

“You can enter my mind and read it for yourself. I don’t think there’s anything to hide there. Will G send for a sorcerer?” A pang when she recalled what she’d lost. And then another when she recognized the full truth of everything that lay behind it.

“Tell me. Better still, hold on and let me get you something to eat and call G.”

“He’s here? Oh, yes, I remember. He arrived—last night?”

“Two nights ago.” He turned away, so she couldn’t see his face. “With Spartan.”

Memories crept back. She and Oliver were—close. She frowned. “Were we posing as lovers? I can’t remember that bit, I’m sorry.”

He still had his back to her. “Yes, we were. Posing as lovers, that is. To lure out Marcus.”

“Ah, yes. He likes threesomes. Liked,” she amended. “What have you done with him?”

“Give me ten minutes.” He left the room, and as he’d promised, returned ten minutes later. This time he wore jeans, not those silky pajamas, and sneakers on his feet. She liked this look on Oliver, casual and slightly unkempt. His hair was damp. He must have had a quick shower. “Food’s on its way. So are G and Spartan. We won’t let anyone else see you until you’re ready.”

“I feel fine. A bit tired. We have to get this thing done.” Memories were returning, creeping back into her mind. “So what happens now? Am I a murderess?”

Oliver grinned. “No. You know vampire conversion is self-defense at worst unless the donor forces it, and you have witnesses to it. G called his contacts, and we had a visit from the local constabulary. The local deputy chief constable, to be exact. She’s familiar with Talents, although not one herself. We explained, and we decided to call it a sudden death. Or rather G and his rather intimidating friend did. She was all for making it a test case, but I reminded her that I’d only just come out as a vampire, and that was surely enough excitement for one day. I don’t know how he did it, but G got her to agree without compulsion or mental persuasion. She recorded it, said we could call it a heart attack. So the country weekend came to a premature end.”

“What about the board meeting?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled to the window, staring out over the broad green parklands beyond. “You remember that as well, do you?”

“I remember everything.” She paused. “Most of it. I do have some gaps.” She thought back. Some memories seemed clearer than others, but that was to be expected, surely. Times when he’d smiled at her, tried to share an intimacy that made her uncomfortable. They’d pretended to be lovers before, when she’d had her full sorcerer powers, so it seemed practical to do it again. A good cover story, that they’d reconnected. And it had worked, up to a point.

He turned around to face her. “I’m your mentor. You need someone to guide you into your new life, teach you to use your new powers. I want to take you somewhere quiet, where you can learn your new powers, but I’ve been told not to leave the country.”

Light dawned. “Marcus. The police.” Shit, this was a new world.

“But we’re secret service, or we count as such. Tegan, before G arrives, I want a decision from you. We need to know how to play this. G says it’s best if we tell the truth because then it’s self-defense. Marcus attacked you first. And you’re still classed as a full time agent. I’m not. That can make this go away without bringing it into the public eye.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” It sounded like an easy decision. This would be her first kill, but she felt okay about that.

“The police will want to talk to you. Only the deputy chief constable. She deals with special cases committed in this county.”

She met his rueful gaze. “What’s the alternative?”

“I can take the blame. If you’re in the least doubtful, we can do that. I’m sure we can sort it out, but they want us to remain in the country for the next month.”

She leaned back against the pillows. A problem made her feel more in control, less helpless. Like a newborn kitten just discovering its senses. How much worse would it be for someone who knew nothing about Talents?”

“Tegan, what do you remember?” His question seemed abrupt, almost personal, but he didn’t crowd her, just fixed her with those incredible blue eyes. True blue was rare, but this man had them, a light sapphire or the sky at midday. Except when he turned, they gained a shade of gray. Pale eyes, but they had an intensity she’d rarely encountered before.

A shard of memory shot through her, but before she had time to identify it, it melted away. Perhaps she’d imagined it. When in full possession of her powers, she’d forced thoughts like that down, added techniques to avoid them. It had taken a while to break them down, even when she wasn’t a sorcerer anymore.

But they were gone, completely gone, and she wasn’t sure why. She’d always imagined that having sex willingly would have been the last step, but she couldn’t remember doing that. She’d been on this mission since the shrinks let her go. But she could hardly remember the rape, and the sex that Marcus had with her had all melded into the conversion process.

She thought about it. Nope, nothing. She couldn’t remember the act, just that he did it to facilitate the process. “Do you have a brush?”

“Sure.” He went to the tall chest he’d taken his T-shirt from and handed her the brush from her luggage. Funny how she remembered that.

She took care of her hair, brushing it out smoothly, only slightly unnerved by the way he watched her. He seemed awfully intent on her, even for a bodyguard. Mentor, she should say. She wasn’t sure she wanted him for a mentor. He made her feel uncomfortable in her own skin.

G arrived with a tray of food, efficiently flipping down the legs on the tray to place it over her lap. The fragrant smell of coffee wafted up to her, and she smiled, picked up the cup, and took a long sip. “Oh, heaven. Who knows how to make good coffee in this place? And how much would they take to work for me?”

“One of the catering staff. I don’t employ a full time cook in the country, so it’s probably someone from the staff I employed for this weekend. Be sure I’ll find out.” Oliver’s smile deepened and became devilish.

“Soup and toast,” G said firmly. “Light food for the first two days.”

“Blood at night,” she said with a grimace. “I’m not looking forward to that.”

“You can take from me if you wish,” G said.

Tegan almost choked on her excellent soup, a kind of clear chicken broth, home cooked. “That’s fine. Spartan has volunteered.” G never gave blood to anyone. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do this.

G wasn’t taking no for an answer. “You’ll take mine the first time. It will give you a boost, and you need to get up to speed.”

“She can take her time,” Oliver said. “It’s over, right?” He looked away, and she knew why he wouldn’t meet her gaze. One of his best friends had raped her and then had sex with her, before converting her to his own kind. He wasn’t giving her any clue how he felt, but she could guess. She couldn’t read anything but the outer layer of his mind, either, and that told her nothing of what she really wanted to discover. But they didn’t know the vital detail.

She took another spoonful of soup. Anything for strength. She’d need it. “No, it’s not over. And G, I accept your offer with thanks, because you’re right. I need to get better fast. I have Marcus’s memories now, he made sure of that. I felt him pass himself on to me. I’m not him, the essence, his spirit has gone, but I have his memories and his skills. But not his emotions. I just know how he felt, but I can’t participate in his feelings.” Another spoonful. “It wasn’t Marcus. That is, it was him, but he was under a thrall. A powerful sorcerer, one who took care to hide the strength of what she could do. She did it for her own ends. Wanted to build her T-powers and her earthly ones. Wanted what I had.”

Oliver’s word dropped like a stone into the sudden silence. “Virginia.”

She let her spoon clatter on the side of the bowl. Anything to break the tension. And then she felt it, a flood of emotion, but it wasn’t hers. She didn’t experience it, just knew it. “He was angry. They’d become lovers shortly after she did her first job for him, last year in New York. Then she came over here and finished the job. She had him completely in her thrall. Only the most powerful sorcerers can do that for more than a few hours.”

“And it’s illegal,” G said. Trust him to think of that.

“You think she cared? She was beyond the law. It didn’t apply to her,” Tegan said.

A hush fell as everyone took in the implications of what she was saying, what Marcus had told her in the only way he knew how. By passing on his memories. “You’re saying she is a sociopath?” G asked sharply.

She gave a wry grin although her heart was breaking. She’d loved her sister, the only person she’d ever allowed herself to care for, the only person she considered safe. Time to behave like a sorcerer, even though she wasn’t one anymore. “Many sorcerers are. They have a much higher incidence of the condition than in the general population. Even when you include other Talents, there are more sociopaths among Talents. They are tested for it, of course, but some escape notice. Sociopaths are good at assessing what people want and giving it to them.” She pushed the tray away, losing her appetite. “Apparently my loving sister was one. I never noticed.” Tears filled her eyes. “I never noticed.”

Crying was completely forbidden, but she couldn’t stop a few tears escaping and trickling down her cheeks. She let them fall, reminders that she’d lost a sister. Because she had, for all that Virginia was still alive. Her sister had decided she wanted more and more, that she deserved it, that it was her right. And she’d taken it any way she could.

“How could one sister turn out like you, and the other so—” Oliver began.

She jerked her head up, met Oliver’s gaze full-on. “How do you know what I’m like?” Nobody knew her so intimately, even her shrinks. They’d been careful to treat only the parts of her she needed treating. Nobody knew her most secret thoughts, her fears, her pain, because she locked them away.

“I know you, Tegan. Because—” He waved his hand in the air. “Because you’re crying.”

“Sociopaths can do that. They practice.”

“You’re no sociopath.”

Shock jolted her. How could he know when she couldn’t be sure? True, she hadn’t put anyone in thrall, ever, but she’d planted suggestions in a few minds, done what she had to when the job needed it. And that blue gaze, far too direct. But she wouldn’t be the first to look away.

He smiled, unexpectedly soft, expectedly sexy, but that smile didn’t seem calculated. Slipping into the outer layer of his mind, she felt warmth, care, and something familiar, something that he tucked away almost as soon as she detected it. Oh, how wonderful to have that sense back! Questions…she needed to ask him about this, this, strange intimacy she felt with him. She hadn’t slept with him, she was sure. Almost sure. But heat at the pit of her stomach told her she could.

That was it. The new vampire temperament. They were volatile, passionate beings. Coming from her cold, analytical sorcerer background, she’d have something else to cope with. Learning to deal with the urges and the emotions a vampire took for granted. She’d need mentoring in more than one way, it seemed.

And she could have sex if she wanted to, with no consequences to her powers. Even getting pregnant, because that was an outside possibility and one every vampire would welcome.

And she’d live to be five hundred, more maybe.

Fuck. How could she cope with that? Before she thought, she’d spoke aloud. “Five hundred?”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “About that, yes. If you bond with another vampire, longer or shorter. You’ll take on their lifetime, live and die together, but you won’t know which one, the longer or the shorter. Not until it happens.”

Hearing it aloud made it more real. She knew, but she didn’t quite believe, up to this moment. “Marcus was made vampire last year, just after he met Virginia. She wanted him to do it, captured an unfortunate vamp, drugged him and made him take and take. She enthralled him, too. He was a test, because she’s thinking of doing it, taking a Talent.” She frowned. “But she wants to prepare, to make sure. She wants more than long life. She wants instant power that goes with a vampire or a shape-shifter in his or her full strength.”

“In Talented terms, she’s guilty of murder.” G stared at her, then at Oliver. “I don’t want either of you involved. I’ll leave Spartan with you for protection, but I’m putting another team on this.”

“No.” She had to see this out. If her sister continued to treat her the same, she’d be most useful. At least she would be when she’d mastered all the powers she had now. “I’m your best asset. I know her better than anyone.”

“Where are your parents?” Oliver asked gently. “Should I call them?”

She shook her head. “We were never close. They produced us, then went their separate ways. I have their addresses. I believe my mother is in DC, working for a lobbyist for Talented causes. My father went into advertising.”

“Appropriate,” G said. “Besides, I’ve already contacted them. They know nothing, and they can’t help us. They didn’t have much to do with either of you after you left school.”

“No.” Her parents were as distant as anyone she’d met a few times and then said goodbye to, without any regrets. The people who gave birth to Virginia and herself had done their duty, but they had other duties, too. It had seemed normal to Tegan the sorcerer. Now it seemed unutterably sad.

Tegan the vampire was a different person, and that was without the memories of her sire haunting her. “She made Marcus do what he did to me, only she didn’t intend for the conversion. He was supposed to kill me.” She wouldn’t let anyone touch her, used the tray as a defense to stop anyone getting close. “He took his last decision, not to stop. He killed himself, and he did it on purpose, because it was the only way he could get free. He didn’t like what she’d turned him into.”

Oliver sighed and ran his hand through his hair, front to back. Relieved, she felt it deep inside, deeper than she should have for a work colleague. But she’d spent a lot of time posing as his lover. That had probably led to friendship.

It must have done. She had worked with him since ceasing to be a sorcerer. Friendship should have grown, because she didn’t dislike him and that was the other option. But she felt a strange blank where her feelings should be for this man. Why?

****

“We can catch her faster if we have Tegan working with us.” G faced Oliver, as determined as he was. But he wouldn’t let the man win this time.

He couldn’t agree. He didn’t give a shit what Virginia wanted, as long as she kept away from Tegan. “She needs rest, and she needs to learn how to be what she is. That’s the most important thing.”

“The trail will go cold. Virginia’s clever enough to get away and clean up behind herself. God knows how much cash she has stashed in offshore banks and the like.”

Oliver frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“She’s been draining Marcus’s funds.”

He’d brought G down to the room where they had dinner last night. So long ago, it seemed. But he needed that drink he couldn’t have the night before. Despite the early hour, he poured a generous whisky and waved the bottle at G, who shook his head, but at least had the sense not to tell him to lay off the booze.

Oliver downed the Scotch in one go and poured another but paused after the first gulp when G said, “She doesn’t remember about you, does she?”

“Us? That we shared a bed?” It came out as harsh as he felt.

“That you love her.”

He finished the whisky. What was the point of denying it? “No.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

“Perhaps she doesn’t want to remember. Perhaps the trauma from her rape came back and drowned the memory. I don’t fucking know.” He put the glittering crystal tumbler down on the tray, very carefully. Otherwise he might smash it, and he’d left the domestics enough to do in the library, although G and Spartan had cleared the obvious evidence of vampire activity, as far as they could. Men suffering fatal heart attacks didn’t usually bleed out.

“Perhaps.” G kept his distance, halfway across the large space. No one would overhear them here. He’d put his psi senses out to detect anyone close enough, and he’d bet G was doing the same. But he didn’t care to find out. He wanted to hug his senses close so nobody would spot exactly how hurt he felt. A broken heart didn’t seem so far-fetched. He’d had it all, and now it was gone.

But G wasn’t done. “Or perhaps it was taken from her.”

Oliver spun around and confronted the damned man straight on. In his customary black and his massive presence, G could have intimidated a grizzly bear. But not him, not in this mood. He’d have killed the man if he didn’t respect him so much. If anyone hurt her again, he’d kill them. Except the bastard was already dead. Only one person left. Virginia would suffer for doing this, because she’d done it as surely as if she’d been in the room with them. “Taken? Like her virginity?”

“Taken. She believes that Marcus’s sacrifice was a voluntary act, that Virginia wanted Marcus to kill Tegan, and then come back to her, but Marcus defied her at the last. But what if she also told him to remove her emotions? Or at least, the ones concerning sex and making love. Tried to turn her back to the cold person she once was.”

“What would be the point of that?”

“Spite.”

“I got the feeling that this was a cold strike for power and wealth, not a personal thing.” With Tegan’s death, Virginia would most likely have inherited her wealth, too. He stared at G, wondering if he dared stretch out his senses and risk G’s razor-sharp intuition. Because if G got an inkling of how much Oliver was involved, he’d pull him off the case for good. And he wanted to be there when they caught Virginia, wanted input. Wanted to kill her if he were completely honest with himself. Fuck compassion, fuck getting the job done, if Virginia had meant to hurt, rather than ploughing through people as irrelevant. One was a sickness. One was pure evil.

G shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think it was all bound up in Virginia. She wanted her own power base, but she wants something else, too.”

“What?”

“She wants to be top dog. Alpha. And while Tegan is alive, she can never claim that. And she wants a Talent. She’s not as Talented as Tegan was, so she has less to lose if she converts. But being the character she is, she wants to do it on her terms, and in her time.”

That worked more than spite. He doubted Virginia would bother with that, other than to recognize the emotion and then coldly put it to use. The woman would have made a better virgin sorcerer than Tegan, because she wouldn’t have had to fight as hard to subsume her own emotions. “So why didn’t Virginia use the vampire instead of letting him convert Marcus?”

“Her terms, her time.” G’s shook his head. “Maybe the vampire was a young one, or maybe she wanted to observe this time, see how it affected Marcus.”

Oliver nodded. “That would be in character. If she bought one, she could buy another, especially if she could get rid of Tegan. Marcus rapes Tegan, and she sees him, can bear witness. Then he does it again. Almost a foregone conclusion, only this time, in his frenzy, he kills her. He’s guilty of murder, and it won’t come to public trial. Not yet. Too contentious to be a show trial. Marcus, at least the Marcus Schofield I knew, would have accepted the blame. She probably reinforced that with compulsion.” Fury rode low in his gut. “You want me in the tent pissing out, G? Or the other way around? Because I’m involved in this.”

“Two things, Oliver.”

G usually called him “Derrington.” Oliver carefully blanked his face, shut his emotions deep down. “You’re off this case. I’ve already called a new team in, and they’re getting up to speed as we talk. You need to concentrate on Tegan and make sure she’s well enough to face the world. You are not to seduce her, you hear?”

His mouth curled in a sneer. “You think I’d stoop to that? She doesn’t want me now. But I’ll mentor her, because I pledged myself to do it.” He wouldn’t make any promises about the case. “You keep me fully informed and get a result, and I’ll work with that.” He wouldn’t have the time to work on the case because he needed to care for Tegan properly, ensure she could live as a vampire. He would make sure she got whatever she wanted. Then he’d leave, heart in shreds but dignity intact. Those old fashioned words, honor and dignity, still meant something to Oliver.

“You know what has gone won’t return.”

“I know nothing of the kind.”

“Her memories. Whatever she thought of you, whatever you were to each other, that has gone.”

He waved a careless hand. “I know that.” He didn’t. What was blocked could be unblocked. If it would do her no harm, he could try to reach them, perhaps find a sorcerer to help him.

“I explored her mind while she was lying unconscious.”

Oliver’s hands clenched into fists, and he took a stride across the room, heading for G. He needed something to hit, and G would do nicely, especially after invading her the way he’d done.

G stood his ground. “Don’t. It was my right. She’s my employee, and it’s up to me to see to her safety. She could have sunk into a coma or gone mad. You know that part.”

“If she had, I’d have done the destroying.”

“No, you would not. You’re not empowered to do so.”

Oliver came to a halt, a foot away from G. The men stared at each other, neither giving up.

“We’re arguing about something that didn’t happen,” G said. “Give it up. I read her mind because I was searching for the signs of incipient madness. There might have been something I could have done to help if I caught it early.” Oliver’s blood pressure went off the boil, but it still simmered. “I didn’t intrude. But I did see gaps. It’s difficult to describe, but there are no significant blocks, Oliver. There are absences. The memories are gone, either pushed out by what Schofield gave her or deliberately eliminated.”

Oliver spoke, his voice forced out, his throat gone tight. “I’d bet on the latter. Tegan’s sister hated her, didn’t she?”

“I’d say resented. If she could get her revenge without compromising her aims, then she would.”

“Why do it if she meant Tegan to die?”

G spoke one word, clipped and hard. “Insurance. Sorcerers are notorious for it. They always have a backup plan.”

“Tegan isn’t like that.”

“Tegan isn’t a sorcerer. When she was, she had backup plans. She oversaw teams, making sure they were at least safe.”

Oliver unclenched his fists, feeling the imprint of his nails in the palms, taking solace from the small shots of pain. He must have pierced the skin. He was right. Tegan wasn’t a sorcerer anymore. She’d transitioned from sorcerer to mortal to vampire in the space of seven months, and she needed his help. Whether she wanted it was another matter.

“Okay, deal. But mark me, you keep me informed, or I’ll come and find out for myself.”

G sighed. “Deal.” He held out his hand, and they shook, a sign of their bargain.

Oliver would stay out of it until asked, in return for full disclosure. That would have to do, since he saw one thing. He wanted to look after Tegan. That was his priority, but they had to get to Virginia before she had a chance to disappear. Talents were especially good at that. For all he knew, she could have established a second identity already, and they had to get to her before she could complete the change. And then do to others what she’d done to Tegan and Marcus.

He left G packing to leave and was heading back upstairs when he heard a familiar voice call his name. George stood outside his room. After checking that Tegan was okay by linking his mind to hers—how easy that was now!—he headed in George’s direction. Tegan was sleeping, her brainwaves peaceful. He left her to it.

“What happened last night?” his old friend demanded.

No need to lower his voice or hide anything. “I was having a drink with Marcus Schofield and Tegan in the library before bed, and he got up to fetch the whisky. He just dropped on the spot. Dead.”

“Why? Was he—like you?”

Oliver shook his head sadly. “It was a heart attack. They’ve taken him away to confirm it, but it seems fairly clear.”

“But the police came.”

He sighed. “Sudden death. They wanted to make sure, I suppose.” He hated lying about a man who he could still call his old friend. For the last year of his life, Marcus wasn’t responsible for his actions. He would remember him as he was, not what he became. That wasn’t Marcus.

George opened his door wide and indicated that Oliver should precede him into his room. It felt like entering the headmaster’s study, for all that Oliver had at least a hundred years on his friend. But George had an air of mature gravity that Oliver had never mastered. Now he wished he had.

“Is that all?”

George had to ask, and he had to lie. “Yes. The paramedics said it was almost definitely a heart attack, although we’d had no idea he was vulnerable. Marcus wasn’t even upset at my revelation at dinner last night. Said he’d guessed something was up.”

George crossed to his case, which lay open on his bed. “Considering the circumstances, I won’t impose my presence on you any longer. Besides, there were enough of us last night to form a quorum and take a vote.”

Oliver gave a grim smile. “I know. I asked enough people to ensure that. I’d hoped for a fast decision.” Oliver shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

George grinned, but it disappeared quickly. “You knew they’d jump at a weekend in a country house. Clever place to hold it. And that tour was sheer genius.” He tossed a shirt into his case.

“I can get someone to do that for you,” he said. “There’s a hotel onsite, don’t forget. Five star, apparently.”

“Is that who looks after your apartment?”

He shook his head. “No, I do that. Someone looks in when I’m not here to make sure everything is okay. But they look after the guest wing when I have guests. Handy.”

“Very.” George turned to face him, meeting his gaze directly, although he had to lift his chin to do so.

A pang shook Oliver when he remembered the way George used to do that thirty years ago, when he was the elder. But he didn’t say anything. Bad enough that mortals knew about Talents. Best it wasn’t rubbed in their faces. “So what did the esteemed board decide?”

George gave a small smile. Oliver did him the courtesy of not entering his mind to discover his thoughts. Let him reveal them in his own time. He didn’t have to verify that George was telling the truth. “To give it time. A week, maybe two, but next Monday, we’re calling a private meeting to decide what to do. We want to see the way the shares go. So in some ways, it’s up to you. You’ll be on TV, make statements and so on?”

Oliver sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “If I have to. I want to keep it down, though. The last thing I want to do is become a spokesperson for Talents. It’s hard enough speaking for myself and Derrington Enterprises.”

George nodded. “Fair enough.”

“I’ll get on to my promotion company, get them busy. It won’t faze them. I’ve not found anything yet that does.” Oliver uncrossed his arms, scratched the back of his neck. Something didn’t feel right. Something that was nagging at him. Almost without thinking, he checked on Tegan, mentally tracing her presence. Still asleep. Exactly the same pattern as before. Exactly.

Jesus, something was wrong. He turned to George with a new urgency. “I have to go. I need to go check on Tegan.”

A frown pulled George’s brow. “Is she ill or something?”

Not the time to tell him. “Marcus’s attack last night. It upset her. I left her resting, but there’s a problem.”

George sighed. “This Talent thing? Doesn’t it get tiring sometimes?”

“I can’t remember it being any different.” But he was on his way out the door, consumed by an urgency he barely understood. Sending a telepathic alarm to G on the way, he headed upstairs by the fastest route, the old servant’s hallways and stairs. He barely beat G to it.

She’d gone. The bed was empty, the room redolent with the echo she’d left. That was all. What had alerted him was the identical same pattern, and she’d managed to set up a telepathic loop, one he’d broken when he burst into the bedroom. It revolved around the walls, the echo of tranquil sleep still fading.

“She might be a new vampire, but she has all the skills of a sorcerer,” G said grimly. “We underestimated her.”

“Or we didn’t watch her close enough.” He raced to the bathroom, checked her belongings, then strode to the closet she was using. Not empty, but missing a few critical items. He took a rapid inventory. Jeans, a few plain tops. Her toothbrush and toothpaste had gone from the bathroom. Her brush was missing. “She’s gone. In a hurry. Why and how?”

Dragging his cell phone from his pocket, he hit speed dial, but her phone went straight to voice mail. He left a message anyway. “Tegan, where are you? Let me know. You shouldn’t have left so fast. You need help still. Please call me.” It took all he had to keep his tone reasonable, but he couldn’t stop the note of anxiety that crept in. Still, he couldn’t alarm her.

And all the time G was standing in the middle of the room, his eyes closed. “There’s something else here,” he said. “Something’s that isn’t Tegan. I’m taking her new condition into account, but there is another echo here, another tinge, another—presence.” His eyes opened wide, and he stared at Oliver. “Virginia. She left something in Marcus’s brain. The poor sod didn’t even kill himself right. She planted something and got Tegan to come to her.” He growled. “I told you we should have let a sorcerer examine her.”

Oliver ignored the reproof.

G toured the room, walking around the perimeter, ending at the bed. Oliver knew he was tracking. Like a bloodhound, G had the ability to pick up remnants of a person’s presence, but he couldn’t track them. Telepathy wasn’t that kind of sense, the kind that could be tracked and trailed.

Fuck, where had she gone? Oliver worked his mind, remembering everything she’d told him. He saw a piece of paper on the bedside table, snatched it up, and read it out. “I’ve gone to meet Virginia. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”

“Fuck. More compulsion.” G scratched his head. “Triggered by a phone message, I bet. We wouldn’t see it, because it wasn’t active until she got the call. A favorite sorcerer trick. So where has she gone?”

They said it at the same time. “Orlando.”

Oliver stared at him, eyes wide. “How do you know?” He’d remembered Tegan telling him once, about the time they’d met in Orlando, but how could G know that?

G shrugged. “Research and reading the memories left here. Vague pictures. Heat, dust, a street full of signs of burgers, a huge tomato. And the adverts for the resorts.”

“So you know where she’s headed more exactly?” He remembered her telling him the first time she’d met Virginia after their separation. Virginia had watched her leave. But he didn’t know where to start looking.

“I have a picture of it, but I can’t see any names or signs. Probably one of the main streets. It’s a major highway. So a hotel, maybe.”

“Wait.”

Oliver left the room, returning shortly with his laptop. He’d booted it up as he went, and he quickly turned to Street Sights, a site that had photos of places around the world. He set the computer in front of G, who dragged out a chair and sat. “Here.” He projected a picture into Oliver’s mind. He saw the dusty street, the signs.

“Those tourist places change fast. As soon as a place isn’t profitable anymore, they demolish it and create something else. But that tomato…it rings a bell.” He had more than one laptop. “I’ll go fetch another computer and help you look. But I’m going to Orlando as fast as Louis can book me a flight.”

“I’ll stay here. Coordinate and keep you informed. But I’m sending Spartan with you.”

“He’ll like that.” Oliver gave a grim smile. “I am so going to be in the mood for a travelling companion.”