as he walked directly to the open, film-coated window to gaze out upon the city.
Alton stared at Caleb’s back and raised a curious eyebrow, perplexed by his quip. Katrina smirked and cleared her throat slightly to get her mate’s attention. When Caleb turned around to gaze at her, he immediately noticed Alton’s sober expression and his grin quickly faded.
“Sorry. That would be very kind, thanks,” he replied quietly.
Alton shook his head slightly as he produced a glass bottle of Coca-Cola and neatly popped the metal cap off with the flick of his thumb. As he poured the contents over ice without even glancing down, he heated the two glasses of blood in a microwave located below the counter with his free hand.
Caleb marveled at the stately vampire’s almost off-handed, precise, smooth movements. Wish I could to that. He moved across the room to accept the neatly filled glass from Alton’s outstretched hand.
“Thanks so much,” he said, to which Alton merely inclined his head with a smirk.
“Certainly,” the vampire replied as he retrieved the two heated crystal glasses of blood from the microwave. He effortless glided across the distance to Katrina and offered one of the glasses to her with a purposefully dramatic sweep of his arm.
“M’lady,” he offered in a gentlemanly tone as she reached out to accept the glass with a charming smile.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she replied gracefully. “Show off,” she added with a wink.
He chuckled and returned to sit behind his desk, while Caleb sipped at his cola and perused the articles displayed on the oak bookshelves along one side of the office. A small, unnamed wooden sailing ship in a glass bottle caught his eye.
“So, you’ll be sightseeing this evening, I should think,” Alton ventured to Katrina before taking a sip of the warm blood from his glass.
She nodded and swallowed a mouthful of blood. “Yes, but that’s not the topic I’m interested in at the moment, I’m afraid. Why don’t you tell me more about this little business you’re running here? I always thought you were into corporate investments.”
“I am,” he said. “Vampires are long-lived beings and are wonderful for implementing long-term investment strategies. Wouldn’t you agree?”
She cast a sharp glance at her former mentor before her eyes darted across the room in Caleb’s direction.
“How many vampires?” she pressed quietly.
Alton’s eyes flickered to hers and then to Caleb as he answered, “For investment management? Seven.”
“And what about vampires employed for non-investment purposes?” she pressed with a raised eyebrow.
He hesitated for a couple of seconds. “Eighteen, for now.”
She stared into his eyes in piercing fashion, but remained silent. I should’ve suspected as much. What are the others being used for?
“Hey, this looks like the HMS Victory,” Caleb finally spoke up. It took him a number of minutes studying the details of the model ship while searching his naval history knowledge for a name. “That was Horatio Nelson’s flagship during the Napoleonic Wars at the Battle of Trafalgar in the early 1800s.”
Alton broke his stare with Katrina to glance over at Caleb with a smirk. “Well played, my boy. However, that vessel is the HMS Agamemnon, reportedly Nelson’s favorite ship. It was at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805. Still, you were correct that Nelson’s actual flagship was HMS Victory, also at Trafalgar.”
Caleb raised his eyebrows appraisingly and nodded, pleasantly surprised at how close his venture had been. While American history was his specialty, he sought increased knowledge in world history too. He moved to peruse the leather-bound books above the model ship as he sipped at his Coke, oblivious to the hushed conversation taking place across the room.
Katrina observed her mate for a moment in silent admiration. My charming, handsome historian, she considered with a slight smile before returning her gaze to Alton. “So, what are the other vampires busy doing?” she whispered too low for Caleb to overhear.
“Before I answer that question, there are some things you and I should discuss first, privately.”
Caleb glanced over at the two vampires with a sour expression, all too aware that the hushed whispers were intended to exclude him from the conversation. He hated secrets, but had learned it was best not to challenge his mate at such times. Instead, he sighed with resignation. So, it looks like this will be a “working vacation.” He had hoped that he and Katrina would be able to have an enjoyable getaway together, as well as perhaps be able to get to the bottom of his blocked childhood memories.