The Eldritch Conspiracy (Blood Song) Read online

  thesis, teaching classes, and I was

  betting he was moonlighting, quietly

  helping his brother Matty. Matteo’s job

  is to take down major demons,

  übervamps, and all kinds of big-bads.

  But he’s only a level-four mage—

  average—though with Matty’s training,

  it’s enough to make him a force to be

  reckoned with. But Bruno is a level nine,

  and I knew he’d never forgive himself if

  anything happened to his brother that he

  could’ve prevented.

  Bruno needed sleep, and he wasn’t

  going to get it if I was fidgeting next to him. So I very carefully disentangled

  myself—from Bruno and the bedding—

  and climbed out of bed. Pulling on

  Bruno’s discarded long-tail T-shirt, I

  padded

  down

  to

  the

  kitchen,

  straightening pictures and picking up

  fallen knickknacks along the way.

  I started coffee brewing and downed a

  nutrition shake while I waited for my

  caffeine fix. A stack of mail had fallen

  off of the counter. When I picked it up, a

  photo fell out. A sticky note in Bruno’s

  mom’s handwriting covered most of the

  image. “Angelina Bonetti is back in

  town. Her annulment is final. She asked

  me to give you this.”

  I do not believe in snooping. I don’t.

  It’s wrong. People are entitled to their

  privacy.

  But I had to know. Had to.

  So I lifted the sticky note off the

  picture.

  The image was a surprise. It was a

  group shot of teenagers standing on a

  boardwalk. The one in the middle was

  Bruno, younger and wearing a Metallica

  T-shirt, worn jeans, and a grin. He had a

  girl on each arm, but the one on the left

  was his girlfriend. I could just tell. The

  girl on the right had bigger hair, more

  makeup, and less clothing, but the girl on

  the left had it. Charisma, star quality—

  whatever you want to call it, she had it

  in spades. Clouds of dark curls had been

  pulled back from a face dominated by

  huge dark eyes and the kind of sultry lips

  that just beg to be kissed. She wore plain

  shorts and a T-shirt, but they didn’t look

  plain on her.

  Angelina Bonetti, I assumed. I found

  myself fighting down a wave of pure

  jealousy.

  “Morning, sunshine.” Bruno greeted

  me from the kitchen doorway.

  “Good morning.” I held out the photo

  to him. Taking it from me, he glanced at

  it and gave a gusty sigh, then leaned

  forward to give me a quick kiss and set

  the picture on the kitchen counter behind

  me.

  “Your high-school sweetheart?” I

  supplied, guessing.

  “Yup.” He slid one arm around my

  waist and pulled me against him. Since

  he was only wearing a thin pair of

  pajama bottoms I could tell he was

  happy to have me there. But he didn’t

  make a move on me. Instead, he righted

  the little metal cup tree on the counter,

  pulled off a mug, and put it down in front

  of the coffeemaker.

  When he spoke, his voice was calm

  and matter-of-fact. “Angelina, and pretty

  much everyone else, assumed that we’d

  get married and that I’d take over Uncle

  Sal’s business while she stayed home

  and raised babies.”

  Uncle

  Sal

  probably

  has

  some

  legitimate businesses. But that’s not the

  kind of business Bruno was referring to.

  The fact that Sal isn’t in jail with Gotti

  and the others says he’s smart and

  dangerous. “I’ll bet Joey didn’t make the

  same assumptions.” Joey was Bruno’s

  cousin, Sal’s son and heir. I like him …

  sort of. But he’s a scary bastard. Not as

  scary as Sal, but impressive enough all

  on his own.

  “No. Joey didn’t.” There was a long

  silence. Bruno was lost in thoughts of the

  past. I didn’t rush him. He’d tell me in

  his own time and his own way. “Joey

  and I get along okay now. But back then

  it was … tense. One of the reasons I

  came to the West Coast for college in the

  first place was to get away from the

  family, from everybody’s expectations,

  so I could figure out what I wanted. All

  my life, all my decisions had been made

  for me. I wanted to make my own

  choices.”

  I thought about that for a long moment.

  It made sense. It also explained why he

  has had a hard time sharing in the past

  and including me in the decision making.

  I didn’t like the notion. But at least it

  made sense. I filed that thought away for

  thorough consideration later, because

  Bruno was talking again.

  “Angie wasn’t happy about my

  leaving. She wanted me to go to school

  in New York so we could see each

  other. We broke up right before I left.”

  He shook his head ruefully. “Broke my

  heart.”

  The coffee was ready. I moved aside

  and he busied himself pouring us each a

  cup. I started to say something, but he

  continued.

  “I hated it here at first. I didn’t fit in at

  all. My roommate in the dorm was a

  total asshat. Sal told me to give it time.

  ‘Finish out the year. You still don’t like

  it, then we’ll talk.’” He took a sip of

  coffee. His eyes met mine over the rim

  and started sparkling. “Second semester,

  the roommate dropped out, I met you,

  and I had my first class with El Jefe.”

  “You think Sal knew?”

  “Maybe. He’s got clairvoyants on

  staff. I know he was worried about me

  and Joey. He never said anything, but I

  could tell.”

  I took a sip of my own coffee, and

  some of the tension in my shoulders

  eased a bit. “Did I ever tell you about

  the vision Dottie showed me last

  Christmas?”

  With his mouth full of coffee, he

  raised one eyebrow in inquiry.

  “I was really depressed because of

  the whole thing with Gran. She showed

  me what would’ve happened if I’d been

  killed with Ivy. It was pretty scary—sort

  of It’s a Wonderful Life as produced by

  Tim Burton.”

  He put down his cup and looked at me

  seriously. “I’m not the same person I

  would’ve been without you.”

  “No, you’re not.” I brought the cup to

  my nose with both hands, deeply

  inhaling the wonderful scent of liquid

  nirvana before taking another drink. It

  kept me from shuddering at the memory

  of what Bruno might have become.

  He smiled. “I like this me be
tter.”

  It was my turn to look quizzical. “But

  you haven’t even heard—”

  He held up one hand. “Don’t need to. I

  know what I was like then and I have a

  pretty good idea of what kind of man I

  would’ve become.” He set his cup down

  on the counter and pulled me close. I put

  my coffee down, too. We were standing

  face-to-face, bodies pressed together.

  “Sweetheart, you don’t need to worry

  about Angelina Bonetti.”

  The photograph drew my gaze like a

  magnet. Damn, she was beautiful. And

  she was the type who would only have

  gotten better with age. And Mama

  DeLuca liked her.

  “Celia.” Bruno’s voice was gently

  chiding. I looked up and found I couldn’t

  look away. His gaze was intense, the

  flames at the backs of his eyes flaring. “I

  love you. I want you. And even if we

  don’t work out, I’m not going back. I’m

  not that person anymore. I bought this

  house for a reason. This is my home

  now.” He continued, speaking softly and

  with amazing intensity. “I like teaching.

  I’m good at it. Once I finish my

  doctorate and my course work, I’m going

  to apply for a university staff position.

  I’ll still make artifacts, but I’ll choose

  what to create and who to make them

  for.”

  Wow. Part of me was shocked … and

  another part wasn’t. No, he hadn’t

  discussed any of this with me before.

  But I wasn’t upset about that. We aren’t

  engaged. We aren’t planning a future

  together. Not yet; maybe not ever. I’d

  been dating both Bruno and John Creede

  for a while and I would have had no

  right to bitch if he dated Angelina

  Bonetti or anybody else—even though I

  had to admit to myself that I wouldn’t

  like it.

  Teaching at Bayview would be a

  really good fit for him. He’d hate the

  politics, but he’d be good at it. And if

  we did manage to work things out and

  become a “real couple,” well, he’d be

  right here. No more long distance.

  “I’m happy for you. I think it’s a good

  idea.”

  “But?”

  I smiled at him a little sadly. “I feel

  like too much happened while I was out

  of town. Everything’s changed.”

  A quick shrug. “You’re tough, Celia.

  And smart. You’ll catch up.”

  I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what to

  say.

  He smiled and took my hand. “Come

  back to bed. Who knows, maybe we’ll

  even get some sleep.”

  9

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I extended my

  hand to the woman who had stood upon

  my entering the conference room. Helen

  Baker is a member of the Serenity Secret

  Service. She is tall, with chiseled

  features and a seriously buff body

  underneath the conservative black suit

  she was wearing with a dove gray

  blouse. The last time I’d seen her she’d

  had a buzz cut. Apparently she’d

  decided to let her blond hair grow out a

  bit; though it was still short, it was not

  as short, and it had been styled to look

  more feminine. She looked good, I

  thought.

  Baker rose from the slight bow she’d

  given me and accepted my handshake.

  “There’s no need to apologize, Princess.

  You’re not late, I arrived early.” That

  was obvious. She’d had time to take

  over the conference room, setting up her

  computer and a projection screen. And I

  spotted several old-fashioned display

  boards leaning against the wall.

  I realized Baker was still standing.

  Apparently she wouldn’t sit until I did.

  She was probably following royal

  etiquette.

  That

  was

  something

  I

  definitely needed to brush up on for my

  new assignment. I’d done a bit of

  research a couple of years ago, but it had

  been awhile. I’d forgotten most of it.

  “Actually,

  I’m

  apologizing

  because…”—I paused for a second,

  searching

  for

  the

  right

  phrasing

  —“bringing me in makes it seem that you

  guys aren’t capable of doing your jobs.

  And that is not true.” I’d worked with

  Baker and other members of the Siren

  Secret Service before. They were

  efficient, well trained, and scary good.

  “I can’t imagine why I’d be needed.” I

  pulled out the chair directly across from

  her, turning it so that I would have a

  good view of the projection screen.

  Baker smiled and took her seat. “But

  you are needed.” She reached into the

  padded laptop case on the table and

  withdrew a manila folder. “I’m a

  clairvoyant. I’ve seen it myself. There

  are no specifics. The people moving

  against us have used powerful black

  magic to shield their actions—demonic

  magics. You, Princess, have more

  experience fighting the demonic than

  anyone on our staff. You also have

  fought and executed at least ten

  vampires, even one übervamp. There

  has never been a vampire on Serenity, so

  none of our people has that experience.

  We’ve trained for it, but training and

  experience are two very different things.

  Don’t presume we’re insulted. I assure

  you, we’re not. We’re eager to learn

  your techniques.”

  It was weird, hearing my last few

  years summed up so neatly. Baker made

  everything sound so matter-of-fact, but

  every one of those incidents had been

  terrifying, dangerous, and damn near

  fatal to me and lots of other people.

  “So there’s no friction?”

  Her expression grew rueful. “Not

  from me. But I can’t say that everyone on

  staff is thrilled. Especially since it’s

  been made clear that the queen wants us

  to protect you as well.”

  “No.”

  She raised her eyebrows but didn’t

  say anything.

  “Say it to her as respectfully as you

  can, but no. If I’m going to do Adriana

  any good at all, I have to be able to do

  what is necessary. That means I have to

  take risks. I may have to throw myself in

  front of a bullet. I can’t do that if you

  guys are protecting me. It won’t work.

  And it puts your team in an untenable

  position. So, tell the queen that I refuse.”

  “Refuse to be in the wedding party or

  refuse to be protected?”

  I shrugged. “I’d prefer protected. But

  whichever is necessary.”

  “She won’t like that.”
/>   Probably not. But— “Queen Lopaka

  is a sensible ruler. She’ll see the logic.”

  And while she liked me, she loved her

  daughter. Protecting Adriana would be

  her primary concern.

  “Very well, if you insist.” She

  gestured toward the screen. “Shall we

  get started?”

  “Please.”

  Baker’s briefing was fairly thorough,

  especially considering they didn’t know

  much about the Guardians of the Faith.

  They were a terrorist group that had

  started up about two years earlier,

  beginning with some anti-siren chatter

  on the Web. They hadn’t become really

  organized or vocal until King Dahlmar’s

  engagement to Adriana went public.

  Since then, they’d mobilized, taking

  credit for a number of smaller events

  before the plane crash and bombing of

  the shop where Adriana had bought her

  bridesmaids’ dresses. All of the

  Guardians’ propaganda was virulently

  anti-siren, and there were specific

  threats against Adriana, Queen Lopaka,

  and me. Their stated goal was to prevent

  the royal wedding at any cost.

  I didn’t like the “any cost” part,

  because that put them on a fanatic list

  that only a few groups in the world

  could lay claim to. Worse, despite all of

  the Guardians’ activity, the siren and

  Rusland intelligence organizations had

  no names or locations for any members,

  and any leads tended to quickly peter

  out.

  Baker turned to her laptop and began

  her next prepared presentation, on the

  wedding

  itself,

  complete

  with

  PowerPoint slides. Nice that the queen’s

  staff had embraced technology.

  The ceremony on Serenity would be

  short and casual … and a security

  nightmare. In the distant past, sirens

  didn’t marry. They used the men they

  wanted for as long as they wanted and

  then compelled them to leave and never

  return. Girl children were kept and

  raised. Boys weren’t. But while change

  came slowly among the sirens, it did

  come. Marriages now existed, mostly as

  a promise to keep and support all

  children of the union. For the average

  siren and her husband, that meant posting

  an intent to marry in the newspaper and

  signing official papers in front of a local

  judge.

  Adriana’s marriage on Serenity would

  be a bit more formal than that due to her

  rank, but not much. The day of the

  wedding had been declared a national

  holiday. Streets were being blocked off

  along the entire 2.3 mile route from the