Marc reappeared at that moment, phone in hand. It was a regular, cordless phone, the kind that could have multiple, wireless handsets. Marc held it out to Christian, giving him a significant look. “It’s Mexico,” he said.
Christian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he set down his cup, took the phone, and left the kitchen. Natalie heard his soft footsteps fade down the hall, and then nothing.
CHRISTIAN WAITED until he was safely in the basement, with the door closed behind him. He didn’t care about Marc overhearing this conversation; he’d tell him everything anyway. But he wasn’t completely confident about Natalie. He’d let her believe last night that the lack of trust went one way. That he trusted her, even though she didn’t trust him. But that wasn’t quite true. He trusted her enough to want her in his bed, but he didn’t trust her with his life, or Marc’s. A single wrong word to Anthony or one of his vampires, and they could both be dead. Even bringing her to this house had been a risk, but the need to get her into his own territory had been too strong to ignore.
Settling into one of the big chairs in front of the house’s security console, he tapped the button to open the phone line, and said, “Christian Duvall here.”
“One moment,” an unidentified male voice said.
It was less than a minute before he heard the soft scrape of the phone being transferred, and then a deep, heavily accented voice said, “This is Vincent.”
“Lord Vincent,” Christian acknowledged. “An honor.”
Vincent snorted a dismissive laugh. “Let’s dispense with the bullshit, Christian. I talked to Raphael; he says you know about what’s going on in my territory.”
“I gave Raphael and his people everything I know, my lord. But I’m happy to answer any questions you have, or to brief you personally.”
“Look, I’m not going to bullshit you. I only trust you because Raphael says you’re okay.”
“I am gratified by his trust.” Christian realized he was being his typical stick-up-the-ass formal self, but it seemed warranted this time. Vincent was a territorial lord, and one whom Christian didn’t know at all. Vincent said he trusted Christian, but Christian had no reason to trust in return.
“So, who’s set up camp in my territory, and what is he planning?” Vincent asked.
“As far as I know, the who is Hubert. As for the what . . . his specialty is creating large numbers of throwaway vampires. They’re barely sentient when he finishes with them. He turns them at need, and burns through them almost as fast. They’re completely disposable to him. His usual mode is to overwhelm his opponent with sheer numbers, and then move in for the kill.”
“And where is he?”
Christian was taken aback by the question, revealing, as it did, Vincent’s ignorance about his own territory. The Mexican lord must truly trust Raphael’s judgment to reveal something so damning. He understood the conundrum, though. Vincent was newly installed as Lord of Mexico, while Hubert and his hidden army had been there for months and months, working with Enrique. Vincent would have to travel every square mile of his entire territory—something that would take months more—in order to figure out who belonged there and who didn’t. It was possible that the only vampire Vincent knew he could rely on, outside his immediate circle, was Raphael.
“My last meeting with Hubert was four months ago,” he told Vincent. “I had declined Mathilde’s offer to join her in the plot against Raphael in Hawaii, and flew instead into San Antonio. Hubert and I met in a camp he had set up on the border. He was alone, except for his lieutenant Quentin. We discussed strategy briefly, but once he realized I wasn’t there to support his efforts, he became considerably less forthcoming. It was obvious to me, however, that his camp near San Antonio was not his main base of operations.
“If I had to guess,” Christian continued, “knowing what I do about how Hubert works, and the type of victim he prefers, I’d look for his main contingent to be somewhere far away from where we met. Not so far that he couldn’t travel easily, but far enough away that he’d assume we couldn’t find it without really looking. Somewhere that would supply him with a large number of uneducated, superstitious peasants to work with.”
“You just described half of Mexico.”
“It has to be somewhere remote, where no one would remark on a sudden surge in the vampire population.”
“But the families would notice, no matter how remote. I’d expect refugees, some sign of the violence.”
“Precisely. And that is why Hubert takes the whole family when he makes his vampires, sometimes even children. Though he’s just as likely to kill the children as turn them. Or use them for blood.”
“Jesus, why hasn’t someone eliminated this monster before now?”
Christian laughed without humor. “In Europe, mon ami, one such as Hubert would be applauded for his brutality.”
“Fuck. You still have any contact with those people?”
Christian understood that “those people” were his former European brethren, and he was gratified not to be included in their number. “I’ve heard nothing from Europe since Mathilde died, but I’m not surprised by that. Mathilde’s failure would have rattled Hubert, and once he learned that I wasn’t going to ally myself with him, he probably withdrew to wherever his stronghold is, and is now making vampires as fast as he can.”
“This is not good news.”
“Regrettably, no.”
“Fuck me. All right. Is your agreement with Raphael still in play?”
“If by that, you mean are we still allies, then the answer is yes.”
“Will you let me know if you learn anything more?”