Blue-white prayer lines created a blur beneath them and zigzagged the open plains of the Northern Territory's Tanami Dessert, and the huge rock formations at Ayers Rock and Kata Tjuta.
The aircrafts dodged the deadly markers that had been on the land's face since before biblical record, taking a circuitous route over hundreds of miles in a matter of minutes through the Great Artesian Basin of Queensland, dropping low within the spectacular expanse of the Great Divide mountain range toward the Great Barrier Reef.
He squeezed her hand, and resisted the urge to bring it to his lips. This was what he'd wanted to show her, the lights on the ground, lines that marked man's earliest battles with the darkness, a breathtaking display of indescribable beauty amid profound struggle. And, yet, her team would be so far away from her in Sydney, down in the area of New South Wales... but given time, he'd show her the Victoria Falls on a private airborne journey in his arms, would show her beaches of unimaginable majesty... mountains that would steal her breath. Didn't she understand what resources he had at his disposal to show her over an eternity? But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he also knew that she didn't care about any of that.
Carlos looked straight ahead, no longer glimpsing her from the corner of his eye. The helicopters were descending and it was game time. No distractions allowed.
"It was beautiful," she murmured, her voice low and private, slicing through the helicopter drone.
She squeezed his hand and from the side opening in her glasses he could see that tears of appreciation had formed in her eyes, making them shine in the night before burning away. They drew his fingers to her cheek before he pulled his hand away from the softness of it. That she'd heard him meant the world to him, because from this point forward, she'd have to pick up on his senses, walk in lock-step with him, her every action tightly choreographed with his. Didn't she know that all the territory below didn't equal her value to him?
When the choppers touched down, he waited for the blades above to slow, and for an armed escort to open their door. The helicopters faced a huge stone castle built into the side of sandstone cliffs overlooking the Great Barrier Reef. Moonlight washed the rough beige surface pale blue, and the smell of the surf brought back intoxicating memories of Rio.
Sixty-six service personnel stood at attention at either side of the sixty-foot-wide central stairs, each waiting for his approach and inspection. Carlos got out first, and turned back to Damali. He gave her a glance to tell her to stay put, and walked with the armed entities toward the castle staff.
Row by row he walked by each individual - some vampire, some human helpers, from chefs to butlers, maids, couriers, and the like, his powers of detection keen. Finally satisfied that it was safe for her to join him, without looking back at her, he summoned Damali to his side. It was protocol; at his level he should be able to call her to him with just his will. As she neared him, he held out his hand, palm turned up and open for her to grasp it. Only when her soft heat filled his hand did he begin to relax.
"Councilman Rivera," a deep voice said, booming from the center of the huge staircase. The voice echoed in the night, giving way to a presence that materialized and began walking down the stairs.
The large vampire, who was obviously a Master, didn't look a day over thirty-five in human years. He stood six foot six, was formally attired in a black and white tux, his shock of strawberry blond hair flowing in the wind behind him as his presence parted the staff on the stairs. He stopped on the landing, gave Carlos a bow of deference, and then moved closer.
"Master McGuire," Carlos said with a nod. "Thank you for opening your main lair estate to us on such short notice." He assessed the other master quickly, died in his mid-thirties, impulsive, around since the eighteen hundreds, just after the previous Australian master was sunlight outted by pirates.
"Think nothing of it," the tall Aussie said, momentarily appraising Damali while speaking to Carlos. "I am honored to have a council-level visit... with such lovely company."
"Permit me to introduce my wife, Damali," Carlos said, not the least offended when the host master took her hand in a grand sweeping gesture and kissed the back of it.
"Councilman," McGuire said, smiling broadly, "you are a very fortunate man." He dropped Damali's hand slowly and turned to the stairs. "My mate of eighty years, Evelyn," he said, gesturing toward the stairs.
Damali and Carlos kept their eyes trained on the place that gathered density until a long-stemmed honey-blond with Playboy bunny dimensions appeared in a dangerously revealing black sheath, and then slinked down the steps to stand by her husband's side. Sensuality exuded from her and was as toxic as snake venom... and had a way of making a man hold her gaze for a moment longer than was respectful. She had golden-brown cat's eyes, intense fire behind the glittering irises that let anyone with sense know she was as deadly as she was beautiful.
"Welcome," she murmured, looking Damali up and down, her smile seductive, suggestive before her eyes left Damali's body to rake Carlos's. "If there's anything either of you need during your stay... do let us know."
The Aussie gave Carlos a knowing smile. "No worries. Everything at this castle is at your disposal."
For a moment, neither male spoke - the offer wasn't reciprocal. The Aussie chuckled, but there was tension in it.
"I'm sure after your long journey from the States, you want a few moments to collect yourselves." He motioned to the service staff. "Settle in Councilman Rivera and his lovely wife. Bring his luggage to the head-of-state suite." Then he looked at Carlos, and allowed his gaze to linger a moment upon Damali before pulling it away. "We've left dinner in your room, sir, given the late hour. I can be found in my study, should you want to discuss a few state-related matters before you retire. Tomorrow, we will have a banquet proper. Do accept my utmost apologies at the lack of - "
Carlos held up his hand to stop his host's prattle, sensing that he was growing unnerved by his visiting councilman's few words. He watched the man's wife gently touch her husband's arm, as though trying to sense if her unaccepted invitation may have displeased their guests. Carlos issued her a look of total appreciation, and she smiled, seeming relieved. On a slow, deceptive inhale, the vocabulary of true diplomacy and detente from his throne knowledge came to the fore. He dropped the slang and replaced his urban vernacular with old world culture. Carlos played the role of his office to the max. He might be a newbie, but he was f**king good - the best... and not new to games at all.
"I am extremely pleased," Carlos said, in cultured tones, "and will join you in your study for a nightcap... after I settle my wife into our suite."
"You are more than gracious, sir," the Aussie said, and then was gone. Evelyn lingered only a moment, then dissolved away, her sexy smile the last to vanish.
Carlos touched Damali's arm as he sensed his limo finally coming down the long drive behind him, but never turned to look at it. The driver knew what to do with the dogs - let them guard at his front bedroom door and terrace. He was just glad that they'd eaten well before they arrived.
Awesome did not describe the environs he entered. Carlos glanced around as a silent human manservant, followed by two scantily clad maids, and a huge armed guard carrying their luggage, led him and Damali through the city-block-long foyer, past a huge central fountain that rose up out of the marble floor that had a pattern of Hell's seven levels inlaid. Just the expanse of the stairs alone was enough to make Carlos quietly give the Aussie props. Now this was handling one's business.
Knights of armor flanked the halls that led to an endless spiral of doors and polished banisters above him, and as he stood in the center of the first landing, the plush red carpet running down it like a thick tongue, he looked below him at the massive vampire-nation receiving rooms, hotel-sized banquet rooms, smoking parlors and gemstone-inspired stained glass.
This was what he was trying to explain to Damali. His Beverly Hills lair, plus several of his offshore villas, would fit into the Aussie's castle ten times. Everything was super-sized in Australia, and the wealth in the U.S. couldn't put a scratch in old-world money.
He nodded for the butler to proceed after they'd paused on the landing, just soaking in the ornate corridors beneath double-height cathedral ceilings that were wound at the crown moldings with gold leaf, wallpaper that seethed life... this motherfucker was so wealthy that the capillary pattern of veins in the walls pulsed blood. He saw Damali nearly reach out and touch it, but sent her silent censure. She couldn't show that she was the least bit impressed, lest she shame him. This castle belonged to an older master, true, but he was council, and should have had her in this type of setup already.
That reality made him focus on the other masters who would be in attendance at the meeting later. Just thinking of the Transylvanian diplomat made him feel his eyeteeth in his mouth. The bastard was arrogant, old as dirt itself, and wealthy as shit... plus he held disdain to an art form that only true bluebloods could dispense.
Yeah, Carlos reminded himself, none of them liked his quick descent to a throne and would have claws readied for him. But talk about rich territory... the castles in Europe were so opulent, especially the German, Austrian, and Dutch holdings, which had such blood spilled in the courtyards that a man might be able to go down on his knees and siphon it from the earth itself, if he'd wanted. France and London were ridiculous, as was Spain... no doubt about it, the European master was gonna be a problem.