“Rookie mistake,” Amelie said, “not patting her down first.”
“Old vampires are hesitant to embrace modern technology.” Boaz made it sound like a good thing. “Their survival as a species hinges on an influx of made vampires who educate them about the current era. Volkov might be young, but he would have been sequestered in his clan home until about five years ago with people who remember Alexander Graham Bell’s first telephone call, back in 1876, like it was yesterday.” He rolled his shoulders. “Your abduction might have been an act of opportunity rather than one of forethought. I’m not saying it wasn’t on Volkov’s to-do list already, but your falling out the night of the inauguration might have bumped it up to the top.”
“Why couldn’t you isolate the cell’s exact location?” Surely sentinels had the resources. “That’s possible, right?”
“We’re assuming Volkov’s driver called ahead to announce their arrival, and one of the younger vamps on staff cautioned them to pat you down and dispose of any electronic devices on your person. They tossed your cell about thirty minutes away from the estate, but that still gave us a small-enough search area that, after consulting the property records at the Lyceum, it only took a matter of hours to tighten the net.”
Hours to find me and weeks to extract me. Volkov had planned his trap well.
“The servant who answered the door belonged to one of the smaller clans, one who’s never given the Society a reason to look at them twice. Their master denied us entry and refused to meet with us to discuss terms. Had we realized they meant an unrecognized master, we could have gotten a warrant to search the premises. As it was, all we could do was sit on our hands and pray you’d find a way out.”
“Is that all?” I kicked up an eyebrow. “Dr. Heath made the front gardens sound mighty appealing. She mentioned the roses were particularly worth seeing.” Speaking her name reminded me. “She was one of yours, wasn’t she? How is she?”
“Yeah, Becky’s in my unit.” His face split in a grin. “She’s an old pro at UC work.”
“Your unit?” My knees almost buckled. “The draft.”
“I’ve been active for about three weeks. Thanks to my years of service, it was more of a lateral transfer. No boot camp for me. They paired me up with Heath and put me straight to work.” The twinkle in his eye spoke of his fondness for her, or for his new position, or maybe both. “Sentinel Elite work is a lot like being in the army.”
“You’re an Elite?”
“Don’t look so surprised.” He puffed out his chest. “HQ took one look at this package and had to have it. Story of my life.”
“Color me impressed.” And also suspicious. Very suspicious. Boaz had been dead set against joining the sentinels. Yet here he was, content and ranked much higher than any entry-level soldier could have dreamed. “Whose idea was it to infiltrate the estate? Yours or the Grande Dame’s?”
“She might have suggested we make the op official.” He worked his mouth like he was tasting something sour by giving her even that much credit. “She knew I was going in with or without sanction. Only the Elite has clearance for that kind of thing, so I offered up my services.”
“Question.”
“Answer.”
“Smartass.”
“Always.”
“There are vamps in the Elite?” That seemed unlikely.
“No, but there’s a solid market for magical augmentation.” He snorted. “I laughed my ass off when Becky got her first stiffy. Took her hours to will it away.”
“That explains her cover story as a newly-turned vampire. The scent of my blood gave her a dental erection.”
“We figured it was a matter of time before you tried to ink your own sigils for protection.” Boaz’s conversational tone didn’t fool me, not with that look in his eyes. “We put her in place as a precaution in case the temptation of your blood overwhelmed your guards’ good sense.”
“They didn’t hurt me or feed from me.” Easing away from Amelie, I edged toward the stairs, eager for a slice of calm before I got in front of someone who wouldn’t back down from the hard questions. “I was treated well, all things considered.”
“Volkov wouldn’t still be alive otherwise,” he promised. “Last Seed or not.”
Well, okay then.
Eighteen
My first order of business was tossing out every single pink thing I owned. Considering how much of my closet still belonged to fifteen-year-old me, that was a lot. A whole lot. I would have to make time to buy a new wardrobe now that I had the cash for it, but that wasn’t a priority at the moment. The nicest thing I had left was the dress Volkov had bought me, which I stuffed into a trash bag along with the other clothes to donate. That left me in dark-wash jeans too loose for my waist and a niceish plum-colored sweater that hung off my shoulders thanks to the weight I’d lost during captivity. At least the matching flats still fit.
Doing my best St. Nick impersonation, I flung the bag over my shoulder and headed downstairs to meet the Pritchards.
Amelie sat on the couch next to Boaz. She stood when I entered the living room. “Can we talk before you go?” She fidgeted with one of the silver bands on her fingers. “I know Mr. Hacohen is waiting, but it won’t take but a minute”
“Sure.” I tossed Boaz the remote. “Turn on the TV and don’t leave this couch.”
I led her into the kitchen, and we each claimed our usual barstools.
“There are some things I’ve been meaning to say.” She linked her fingers to keep them still. “When Volkov took you…” Her knuckles whitened. “I worried I might not get the chance.”
“Let me go first.” Hers wasn’t the only conscience in need of unburdening, and all those days spent locked in my own head had given me nothing but time to think. “I’ve been a crap friend, Amelie.”
“Grier, no.”
“Amelie, yes.” I flattened my palms on the granite countertop. “We made all these big plans when we were kids. We had our whole lives planned out from renting our first apartment together, attending the same college, working in the same city so we could do lunch dates every Friday. I was even willing to sacrifice my self-respect and marry your brother so that we could be real sisters.”
A snort escaped her. “The way I remember it, you were eager to fall on that particular sword.”
“Again—” I had to shake my head “—you are way too invested in my nonexistent love life.”
“I’m your best friend.” She reached over and took my hand. “It’s my job to look out for you. I’ve kind of sucked at that lately.”
“I’m not done yet.” I stopped her there. “Let me get this out in the open.”
Amelie mimed zipping her lips, the action giving me the nerve to continue.
“I got…sent away…and that path dead-ended for me. I lost my shot at having that perfect life, and when I got home and saw you had kept going, accomplishing all our goals without me, I didn’t know how to deal.” I scratched my nail over a speck of glittering mica. “I was hurting so much, being back here, trying to pick up my life when there wasn’t anything left to hold on to, and seeing how well you’re doing made me jealous.”
“I should have tried harder to understand. It was just easier pretending none of it ever happened. That things were back to the way they used to be. Even when I offered to help you talk it out, I hoped you’d keep turning me down because I didn’t really want to know what they did to you in there. My imagination is bad enough. I was sure the reality was worse, and I couldn’t deal. I’m not as strong as you.”
“You have to know that I’m proud of you. You do know that, right?” I covered her hand with mine until we ended up in a contest to see whose hand came out on top. “You stayed the course. You’re living your dreams. You’re on your way to achieving all your goals.”