them. I believe it is what they want of me.” He licked his lips, perhaps nervously. “And as I’ve already said, you saved my life when you freed me from the vampires. And I am deeply grateful for that.”
At last, Utana thought. Something he could understand, something he could relate to. And yet, he must be cautious. This world was not his own, and this human, though they had met before, was still a stranger to him.
He would go with this man, but he would exercise extreme wariness and care. But he was wise and powerful enough, he thought, to risk it. And the rewards of food, of shelter, of a base from which to work while he healed from the painful wound delivered by the lovely warrior woman Brigit, were far too tempting to resist.
“Be it so,” he said to the man. “My vizier, you shall be. Rise, Nashmun,” he went on, giving the man a name he preferred, “and serve me well.” As the man stood upright again, Utana leaned close. He stared intently into the human’s cold gray eyes. “Betray me not, Nashmun. My wrath knows no mercy.”
4
Near Washington, D.C.
At 7:00 a.m., in a truck stop not known for safety, Roxy, wearing a black pageboy wig and large round glasses, along with skintight leggings, a leather jacket and matching boots, sat at a table in the back and waited. She looked like Velma from Scooby-Doo, if Velma had joined a biker gang. The senator came in, looking nervous as hell, and as out of place as a goldfish in a barracuda tank. She clicked through the place in her sensible two-inch navy blue pumps that matched her blazer that matched her skirt, looking around in the most obvious manner possible.
“Shit,” Roxy muttered. She quickly got up and made her way past the crowd of patrons, mostly large men and a few large women, talking loudly, chugging coffee and eating meals big enough to feed a small third-world village. She gripped the senator by the forearm and leaned in close. “Could you be more obvious?”
With a sharp look her way, the senator frowned. “Are you—”
“Endora,” Roxy said. She’d had to pick a phony name when she’d emailed the senator, and her favorite TV witch had seemed like a good enough choice. “We need to make this fast.”
“I’m all for that.”
“Did you tell anyone you were coming here?”
“Yes.”
Roxy stopped walking, sent her a look.
“My private security guy, the guy who screens my email. And no one else. I wasn’t going to come here alone.”
Roxy glanced toward the entry, a big glass door.
“He took the limo around back, but I can get him back here fast if needed.”
“Gave you a panic button, did he?”
The senator averted her eyes. “Your message said this was about my new committee post. That you have information I need. What is it?”
She was a pretty thing, Roxy thought. And she had that idealistic fire in her eyes she’d glimpsed before in young politicians. Before they’d been around long enough to have it extinguished by the good ol’ boys who wanted to keep the status quo.
“This way.”
The two made their way to the table in the back, and Roxy slid into her chair and shoved a mug of coffee across the table. “I ordered for you.”
“I prefer tea.”
“You drink coffee today.”
Roxy sipped her own, and the senator followed suit. Without further delay, Roxy said, “There’s a former mental hospital called St. Dymphna’s in Mount Bliss, Virginia, that’s been commandeered by the DPI. You know about the DPI, right?”
The senator blinked rapidly, lowered her eyes. “I’m afraid that’s—”
“Classified. I know that. Look, Ms. MacBride, I don’t need you to tell me anything. I already know. I’m just trying to determine how much you know.”
“I…know a lot.”
“Not as much as you think, I’ll bet, so I’ll start at the beginning, and that’s the DPI. Division of Paranormal Investigations. A black ops division of the CIA in charge of investigating vampires. It’s been committing the kinds of crimes against other living beings over the past couple of centuries that make Saddam Hussein look like Mother Theresa. Only difference being their victims were vampires. Not humans.”
The woman’s eyes widened as she searched Roxy’s.
“Yeah, I can see that’s something you didn’t know. Well, here’s the thing. Right now they’re rounding up all the human beings with the Belladonna Antigen and stashing them in St. Dymphna’s.”
The senator swallowed hard. “Humans with the antigen have been targeted by…vampires more than any other group