“Yeah. He’s far older than his legend would lead you to believe. He took on the role of Prince Vlad Dracul, but he’d already been alive for thousands of years by then. But it’s a long story, and we don’t have time.”
“You’re right. But I’m fascinated, James.”
He met her eyes, and she stared into them. They almost kissed, but she bit her lip and drew away.
James tried to focus. “Okay, so we’ll have people who can talk to him. We think. So we just need to raise him in a safe place. A place where we’ll have privacy, where we won’t be interrupted, and where nothing’s going to pop up and scare the hell out of the poor guy, like a truck or a bus or a plane or—”
“The island?” she asked.
He met her eyes, considering it, then shook his head. “Too many people wanting to talk to him, with good reason for impatience. We need to bring him up to speed, explain how it is he’s been returned to life and what’s been happening in the world since he was last a part of it.”
“It boggles my mind that this might actually be about to happen, James.”
He nodded. “Let’s take him out on the Nightshade. Get him out on the ocean, try to do it there.”
“Kind of close quarters, don’t you think?” she asked. “What if something goes wrong?”
“I won’t let anything go wrong.”
She closed her eyes and wished the phrase famous last words hadn’t chosen that moment to run through her mind. “Fine. The Nightshade it is.”
16
James ended his phone call, then powered his cell phone down and replaced it in the belt clip attached to his khaki trousers. “Brigit’s fine,” he said, moving across the foredeck to join Lucy. She was leaning on the rail, looking out at the expanse of ocean and twilight. The sun had set behind them, and the purple sky and blue sea were equally placid. Unlike the rest of the world.
“Where is she?” Lucy leaned down to the nearby table, anchored to the deck and surrounded by several lounge chairs, and picked up the two dewy glasses that were sitting there, offering him one.
“Outside Boston, with a group of vampires she’s gathered together. The Resistance, she calls them.”
He took the glass from her. “What’s this?”
“Seven-and-Seven. I thought we could both use one.”
He took a sip and nodded. “Good idea.”
“So what are they up to? This resistance group of hers?”
He sighed, turning his back to the sea, looking at her instead. “Surveilling the houses of vampires who’ve fled. Waiting for the mortal vigilantes to try to torch one, and then…” He shook his head, then took another swig from the glass. Swallowed, baring his teeth at the strength of the drink. “Killing them.”
“…Killing them?”
He met her eyes, nodded. “I didn’t say I approved. But that’s what she’s doing, yeah.”
“But that’s…murder.”
“She says it’s war.”
“What do you say?” She watched his eyes as he formed his answer, and she saw his inward search, his quest for understanding.
“I think it would only be justified if she were defending innocent vampires, asleep inside. But if there’s no one there to be harmed, this is just an ambush attack against members of a species who can’t hope to defend themselves against something as powerful as Brigit and her vampire gang.”
“And yet they’ve been doing the same thing, these mortals. Attacking the helpless while they’re unable to fight back.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “That’s what Brigit said.”
“She’s putting herself at risk. Those vampires with her, as well.”
“I told her that, and added that with most of our kind either already dead or in hiding, these battles she’s waging are based on nothing more than a hunger for vengeance.”
“What did she say to that?”
“She hung up on me.”
Lucy closed her eyes, one hand automatically going to his shoulder. “I’m sorry, James.”
“She’ll come around once she gets it out of her system. But God knows how much more her acts will fuel mortal hatred and fear of our kind first.” He tossed back the remainder of his drink and set the glass on the table. “Are you ready to try this thing?”
She stared into his eyes and thought that this insane experiment he was about to try wasn’t going to work.
It couldn’t possibly work.
They’d dropped anchor far from shore, in calm seas, away from shipping lanes, and an equal distance from the mainland and Haven Island, as they were