'Tiffany."
"Nice to meet you, Tiffany," he said, lying.
Less than ten miles away, at Mary's pool in her backyard, she, John, and Bella were having a surprisingly jolly time.
Mary laughed out loud and looked at John. "You're not serious."
It's true. I shuttled back and forth between the theaters.
"What did he say?" Bella asked, grinning.
"He saw
The Matrix
four times the day it opened."
The woman laughed. "John, I'm sorry to break this to you, but that's pathetic."
He beamed at her, blushing a little.
"Did you get into the whole
Lord of the Rings
thing, too?" she asked.
He shook his head, signed, and looked expectantly at Mary.
"He says he likes martial arts," she translated. "Not elves."
"Can't blame him there. That whole hairy feet thing? Can't do it."
A gust of wind came up, teasing fallen leaves into the pool. As they floated by, John reached out and grabbed one.
"What's that on your wrist?" Mary asked.
John held his arm out so she could inspect the leather bracelet. There were orderly markings on it, some kind of cross between hieroglyphics and Chinese characters.
"That's gorgeous."
I made it.
"May I see?" Bella asked, leaning over. Her smile disintegrated and her eyes narrowed on John's face. "Where did you get this?"
"He says he made it."
"Where did you say you're from?"
John retracted his arm, clearly a little unnerved by Bella's sudden focus.
"He lives here," Mary said. "He was born here."
"Where are his parents?"
Mary faced her friend, wondering why Bella was so intense. "He doesn't have any."
"None?"
"He told me he grew up in the foster-care system, right, John?"
John nodded and cradled his arm against his stomach, protecting the bracelet.
"Those markings," Bella prompted. "Do you know what they mean?"
The boy shook his head and then winced and rubbed his temples. After a moment, his hands signed slowly.
"He says they don't mean anything," Mary murmured. "He just dreams of them and he likes the way they look. Bella, ease off, okay?"
The woman seemed to catch herself. "Sorry. I… ah, I'm really sorry."
Mary glanced at John and tried to take the pressure off him. "So what other movies do you like?"
Bella got to her feet and shoved on her running shoes. Without the socks. "Will you guys excuse me for a moment? I'll be right back."
Before Mary could say anything, the woman jogged across the meadow. When she was out of earshot, John looked up at Mary. He was still wincing.
I should go now.
"Does your head hurt?"
John pushed his knuckles into the space between his eyebrows.
I feel like I just ate ice cream really fast
.
"When did you have dinner?"
He shrugged
. I don't know
.
Poor kid was probably hypoglycemic. "Listen, why don't you come inside and eat with me? Last thing I had was takeout for lunch, and that was about eight hours ago."
His pride was obvious in the firm shake of his head.
I'm not hungry
.
"Then will you sit with me while I have a late dinner?" Maybe she could entice him to eat that way.
John stood up and held out his hand as if to help her to her feet. She took his small palm and leaned on him just enough so he'd feel some of her weight. Together they headed for her back door, shoes in hand, bare feet leaving wet prints on the chilly flagstone around the pool.
Bella burst into her kitchen and stalled out She'd had no particular plan when she'd taken off. She just knew she had to do something.
John was a problem. A serious problem.
She couldn't believe she hadn't recognized him for what he was right off the bat. Then again, he hadn't gone through the change yet. And why would a vampire be hanging out in Mary's backyard?
Bella nearly laughed. She hung out in Mary's backyard. So why couldn't others like her do the same?
Putting her hands on her hips, 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."
"We'll take care of her memory."
"How do I get to you?"
"We will send a car for you. At nine o'clock."
"My address is—"
"We know where you live."
As the phone went dead, she shivered a little.
Okay
. Now she just had to get John and Mary to agree to see the Brotherhood.
When she got back to Mary's barn, John was sitting at the kitchen table while the female ate some soup. They both looked up as she approached, and she tried to be casual as she sat down. She waited a little bit before throwing the ball out.
"So, John, I know some folks who are into the martial arts." Which wasn't exactly a lie. She'd heard the brothers were good at all kinds of fighting. "And I was wondering, would you have any interest in meeting them?"
John cocked his head and moved his hands around while looking at Mary.
"He wants to know why. For training?"
"Maybe."
John signed some more.
Mary wiped her mouth. "He says that he can't afford the cost of training. And that he's too small."
"If it were free would he go?" God, what was she doing, promising things she couldn't deliver? Heaven knew what the Brotherhood would do with him. "Listen, Mary, I can take him to a place where he can meet… tell him it's a place where master fighters hang out. He could talk to them. Get to know them. He might like to—"
John tugged on Mary's sleeve, signed some, and men stared at Bella.
"He wants to remind you that he can hear perfectly well." Bella looked at John. "I'm sorry."
He nodded, accepting the apology.
"Just come meet them tomorrow," she said. "What do you have to lose?"
John shrugged and made a graceful movement with his hand.
Mary smiled. "He says okay."
"And you'll have to come, too. To translate."
Mary seemed taken aback, but then stared at the boy. "What timer'
"Nine o'clock," Bella replied.
"I'm sorry, I'll be working then." "At night. Nine o'clock at night."
Chapter Five
Butch walked into One Eye feeling like someone had pulled the stoppers out of a number of his internal organs. Marissa had refused to see him, and though he wasn't surprised, it still hurt like a bitch.
So it was time for some Scotch therapy.
After sidestepping a drunken bouncer, a knot of floozies, and a pair of arm wrestlers, Butch found the troika's regular table. Rhage was in the far corner behind it, up against the wall with a brunette. V was nowhere in sight, but a glass filled with Grey Goose and a knotted drink stirrer were in front of a chair.