she stared at the floor. What the hell was she going to do? When she'd searched John's conscious mind, she'd found nothing about his race, his people, his traditions. The boy didn't know a thing, had no idea who he really was or what he was going to turn into. And he honestly didn't know what those symbols meant.
She did. They spelled out TEHRROR in the Old Language. A warrior's name.
How was it possible he'd been lost to the human world? And how long did he have before his transition hit? He looked as if he was in his early twenties, which meant he had a year or two. But if she was wrong, if he was closer to twenty-five, he could be in immediate danger. If he didn't have a female vampire to help him through the change, he was going to die.
Her first thought was to call her brother. Rehvenge always knew what to do about everything. The problem was, once that male got involved in a situation, he took over completely. And he tended to scare the hell of everyone.
Havers - she could ask Havers for help. As a physician, he could tell how long the boy had before the transition. And maybe John could stay at the clinic until his future was clearer.
Yeah, except he wasn't sick. He was a pretransition male, so he was physically weak, but she'd sensed no illness in him. And Havers ran a medical facility, not some kind of rooming house.
Besides, what about that name? It was a warrior's -
Bingo.
She went out of the kitchen and into the sitting room, heading for the address book she kept on her desk. In the back, on the last page, she'd written a number that had been circulating for the last ten years or so. Rumor had it, that if you called, you could reach the Black Dagger Brotherhood. The race's warriors.
They would want to know there was a boy with one of their names left to fend for himself. Maybe they would take John in.
Her palms were sweaty as she picked up the phone, and she half expected either for the number not to go through or to have it answered by someone telling her to go to hell. Instead, all she got was an electronic voice repeating what she had dialed and then a beep.
"I... ah, my name is Bella. I'm looking for the Brotherhood. I need... help." She left her number and hung up, thinking less was more. If she was misinformed, she didn't want to leave a detailed message on some human's voice mail.
She looked out a window, seeing the meadow and the glow of Mary's house in the distance. She had no idea how long it would take for someone to get back to her, if at all. She should probably go back and find out where the kid lived. And how he knew Mary.
God, Mary. That awful disease was back. Bella had sensed its return and had been debating how to handle what she knew when Mary had mentioned she was going in for her quarterly physical. That had been a couple of days ago, and tonight Bella had planned to ask how things had gone. Maybe she could help the female in some small way.
Moving quickly, she went back to the French doors that faced the meadow. She'd find out more about John and -
The phone rang.
So soon? Couldn't be.
She reached across the counter and picked up the kitchen's extension. "Hello?"
"Bella?" The male voice was low. Commanding.
"Yes."
"You called us."
Holy Moses, it worked.
She cleared her throat. Like any civilian, she knew all about the Brotherhood: their names, their reputations, their triumphs and legends. But she'd never actually met one. And it was a little hard to believe she was talking to a warrior in her kitchen.
So get to the point, she told herself.
"I, ah, I have an issue." She explained to the male what she knew about John.
There was silence for a moment. "Tomorrow night you will bring him to us."
Oh, man. Just how would she pull that off?
"Ah, he doesn't speak. He can hear, but he needs a translator to be understood."
"Then bring one with him."
She wondered how Mary would feel about getting tangled up in their world. "The female he's using tonight is a human."