Midnight In St. Pertsburg (The Invisible War 1) (16 page)

A battle that, as far as Rose could tell, Nazeem lost. “I must beg the favor….”

Wentworth’s smile grew; he didn’t let Nazeem finish the sentence. “Of course, my dear boy, allow me to extend Anastasia’s hospitality.” Wentworth’s eyes flickered to Rose. “And the young lady?”

Rose didn’t understand the question. “I’m fine. I’m just here—“ Nazeem’s hand, tight on her shoulder, cut her off.

Wentworth raised an eyebrow at the gesture. For whatever reason, Rose found him easier to read than Nazeem, and she could tell he was enjoying himself. “Perhaps I might keep Rose entertained while you see to your needs.”

Rose planted her feet. “I’m not leaving Nazeem alone.”

“Rose,” the wasps were back inside Nazeem. “I swear to you I won’t leave this place, but I must insist on privacy. Please.”

“What, with the doctor? It’s okay, I can handle the sight of—“
blood
, Rose didn’t say, as she realized too late what Nazeem must be here to do. “Wait, are you…how do you…?”

Nazeem was all wasps now.
 

Wentworth came to his rescue. “Up to the banquet room and turn left. A servant will guide you from there,” Wentworth offered his arm to Rose. “Come along, love, and join me for tea in the sitting room.”

“Real tea?” she asked, watching Nazeem go.

Wentworth laughed. “Aren’t you darling? I can’t imagine poor Nazeem knows what to do with such a brash young American girl.”

The worst part about not being able to read the vampires was Rose couldn’t tell if her dislike of this man was justified or not. But she remembered they were supposed to be diplomats and composed her face into a smile as he took her to a small sitting area where tea had already been laid. Vampires worked fast.

Rose squirmed out of her coat and hung it off the back of her chair. As Wentworth poured them each a cup of steaming black tea, she settled into a chair that turned out to be far more decorative than comfortable. “You and Nazeem know each other.” She might as well make use of the wait.

He didn’t try to deny it. “We’ve worked together in the past.” He poured a cup for himself. “I think you’ll find him a trustworthy associate.”

“So you say.” Rose sipped at her tea. It was strong and bitter. A small pot of jelly was on the tray; she went for it. “But why should I trust your word any more than his?”

He didn’t smile, but Rose thought she caught a spark of amusement in the crinkle of his eyes. “You have to trust someone.”

“Why?”
 

Her question hung suspended as he considered. Rose resisted the urge to tap her fingers. Did all vampires work this hard for melodrama? “Many people find it comforting,” he finally said, “to trust.”

“Most people are desperate to believe the world is a kind place. It shouldn’t take a sensitive to tell you that.”

He nodded, conceding her point. “Would you call them deluded?”

“I know that deep down, most people are desperate, greedy bastards with an urge for self-preservation that could flare up at any time. We all wear masks of civilization, cloak ourselves in good behavior, but even for the best of us, that goes against our instinct.”

Rose thought—maybe—she’d shocked him. The cues were subtle, but there. She tried to burn into her memory the way it felt.
 

Wentworth lifted his cup to inhale the scent of it, but he didn’t drink. “You hold a dark view of humanity.”

“I just call it like I see it.”

“You see the truth,” he said, more to himself than to her. “Inside everyone. Such a gift.”

Rose didn’t know what to make of the oozing, heavy emotions blossoming inside him, but they didn’t make her comfortable. “Yeah, maybe. It’s a great parlor trick, but doesn’t exactly provide full dental, if you know what I mean.”

“And yet it has brought you here. Perhaps when Alec is finished with you, we might discuss…other opportunities.”

While Rose wasn’t ready to buy into the padre’s claims that all vampires were evil and wrong, Wentworth was making a solid stab at slimy. “I’ll make sure to send along my resume.”

The change of pressure against her mind alerted Rose to Nazeem’s return. He no longer buzzed, but something still lay out of balance, felt different from the usual range of energies she’d labeled “Nazeem working as intended.”
 

“Are you ready to go?” she asked before Nazeem had announced himself. Too obvious, dammit—Wentworth wasn’t an idiot—she didn’t want him to see how much she wanted away from him.

“So soon?” No, Wentworth hadn’t missed her eagerness. His voice held the edge of a sneer.

“Your pardon, Carter, but we cannot linger tonight.”
Carter
. Rose didn’t miss the familiar address. Nazeem looked better, more relaxed. Rose would have believed him fully recovered if not for the lingering strangeness to his insides.
 

Nazeem took her coat and held it up for Rose. Unused to such casual gallantry, Rose fumbled to get her arms in the correct holes. Which meant she wasn’t looking at him when he turned his attention to Wentworth, but she felt the icy prickle that ran through him. There was one vampire emotion that seemed clear enough. “Before we go, I do have one question for you.”
 

“I am at your disposal.” Wentworth made a slight bow.

“We met with the woman who owns the voider club—Svetlana. She seemed quite antagonized by the vampire presence in St. Petersburg.”

If Rose had been any less alert, she would have missed the subtle shift between Nazeem and Wentworth—the tension in Wentworth’s jaw, the way his gaze slid to the side. A subservience, maybe even fear, had slipped into Wentworth’s bearing, displacing the arrogance with which he’d looked down on Nazeem at the door.
 

Only for a moment, though. Wentworth recovered himself quickly, staring directly into Nazeem’s eyes as he said, “I don’t know why that would be.”

That unflinching eye-contact was the sign of a practiced liar. Mistaken by many as a sign of honesty. Did Nazeem see that too? Rose seethed against the handicap these vampires placed on her senses. “It seems a strange thing,” Nazeem said.

Wentworth shrugged, his poise recovered. “Svetlana has been in this city a great many years. Long before the accords. Perhaps she sufferers nightmares about the past.” A very practiced liar.

“It must be.” Nazeem laid a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Thank you for your time, Carter. We’ll leave you to the rest of your evening.”

“Good to see you again,
Carter
.” Rose loved seeing the little twitch at his temple as she also presumed familiarity. Prissy people. Prissy vampires. And one more data point as Rose fought to understand their insides.
 

*
   
*
   
*

Outside, Nazeem was less amused by her behavior. “It’s not good to taunt him. Those dangers about which you asked? Carter Wentworth is one of them.”

“He doesn’t seem so bad.” They’d left so quickly, Rose was still getting her coat and gloves adjusted for the walk back. “At least, not as scary as Anastasia.”

 
“Don’t be naive.” Nazeem turned them towards the road that ran along the river. A different route back to their hotel. A splash, down in the water, made Rose jump and she pulled her mitten off to feel for the mushroom token around her neck. Still there, of course.
 

Nazeem, if he’d heard it, showed no concern. But then, he hadn’t been there this morning; he hadn’t met the hungry rusalka, hadn’t heard their voices, hadn’t wanted so badly to join them. If those creatures were out and about, Rose wanted to be sure she would see them coming.

She kept after Nazeem. “I’d take three of him over Anastasia any day. At least my brain works when I’m talking to him.” Wentworth had none of the overwhelming attraction, didn’t demand her attention the way Anastasia did.
 

The way Nazeem did.

“You’re speaking of things about which you have no understanding.”

“No shit.” Rose planted her feet, crossed her arms. “And I’m getting tired of it.”

Nazeem also stopped, turned to face her. She couldn’t see his face, but his silhouette was sharp against the lights of the Peter and Paul fortress across the river. The tension from earlier had left his stance, but she didn’t think he was anywhere near relaxed. “We shouldn’t linger outside.”

“And if we go back, you’ll just shut yourself into your room again and I’ll be just as ignorant.”

Nazeem’s head turned slowly back and forth. Not in denial. Watchful. “This is beyond foolish.” Rose stood firm, staring at him, almost certain he could see her just fine. His shoulders rose and fell as he drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh. “Very well. Quickly. What is it you must know?”

“For starters, what were you doing back there?”

The wasps inside Nazeem returned. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not that easy. You’re a vampire. Until a few days ago, I had no idea you even existed. Mike says all vampires are bad, and even if my instincts tell me he’s wrong, I still don’t know anything about you. If you really—if you were—” Rose broke off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Unsure how to talk about whether or not Nazeem really drank blood.

“Ask your questions.” Nazeem’s voice was flat, but the wasps had grown angry.

“Do you kill people?”

“No,” he answered quickly and emphatically. He was silent a moment, then amended,“Not in that way, at least. You’ve seen me kill.”

“So, what, then? Does Anastasia keep a blood bank?” Nazeem kept silent. Slowly, Rose’s brain put the pieces together. “Were there people in there? Are the vampires keeping people in there?”

This time, Nazeem’s answer was more hesitant. “Yes.”

Before she realized what she was doing, Rose had turned back towards the palace. Nazeem had a hand on her arm before she took a step. “Wait.” His voice was as calm as his grip was firm.
 

Rose wasn’t even sure what she meant to do, but the thought that there had been people in there—living people, captives—the whole time she’d been taking tea with Wentworth, pantomiming dinner with Anastasia…. “Jesus, Mike was right about you people.”

“Don’t be dramatic. It isn’t like that.”

“So tell me what it is like.”

Nazeem took her arm again, gentle, but insistent, and led her over to a bench beside the river. He pressed her to sit, then settled himself against the railing. His gaze locked over her head, watching across the road; he didn’t meet her eyes. “Do you know how people become vampires?”

“I’ve seen
Twilight
and that
Dracula
with Keanu Reeves.”

Nazeem’s lips tightened, but he still didn’t look at her. “There’s something in us. Call it a virus of the spirit. It spreads to people through…when we….” He trailed off, then recovered. “If we take enough to kill our…our prey, it’s probable they will come back as a vampire. If we only take a little blood, leave them healthy and whole, but they fall victim to some other accident soon after, it’s probable they will come back as a vampire.
 

“We do not kill anymore. In this modern world, every new vampire—especially accidental births—raises the chance of our discovery. Those from whom we take blood, we do everything we can to protect. To prevent accidents.

“It is not an unpleasant sensation, when we take…what we take. Many find they wish to repeat the experience. Those who wish that life are kept close. They’re cared for. They’re given every luxury….” Nazeem trailed off again, but this time did not continue.

“You keep them as pets,” Rose said, her voice flat.
 

Embarrassment. That’s what she was feeling from him, what she’d been picking up all night. Was Nazeem embarrassed about being a vampire? No, that wasn’t quite it. Close, but not right. Either way, he didn’t apologize. “Father Mike calls us monsters. Will you be so quick to disagree with him next time?”

“Mike throws that word around a lot.” And what grounds did Rose have to argue? Just because Nazeem was quiet and polite? Rose knew better.

But it seemed the vampires were no longer her only avenue to understanding. “Take me back to the palace.”

Now it was Nazeem’s turn to ask, “Why?”

“Because I want to see the truth. If I can’t figure you vampires out directly, maybe I can get a better idea from the people who live around you.”

Nazeem spread his hands, a gesture of surrender. “Very well. But not tonight. We have already presumed overmuch on Anastasia’s hospitality this evening. I promise you will have your chance, but you must trust me on this, if nothing else. The vampires of the palace are protective of their guests. You must be patient.”

“Okay.” Rose would be patient. For a while.
 

Now the matter was settled, Rose realized she was shivering.
 

Nazeem noticed as well. “It’s cold. We should return to the hotel.”

More than ready, Rose stood up from the bench and froze when Nazeem’s head whipped around and his insides became chaos. “What is it?” she whispered.

“Come.” Nazeem pulled her into the park that ran along the river. Rose still couldn’t feel any presence but their own anywhere near, but this time, when she followed Nazeem’s gaze, Rose was able to pick out the shadows of men moving down the street they had only just vacated.

Voiders. They had to be. “Where did they come from?”

“They followed us to the palace.” Nazeem leaned against a tree, peeked around. “One of them, I recognize. He is one of the men who attacked you.”
 

Rose tried to ignore a sudden jolt of fear. “What should we do?”

Nazeem stood silent, still, for what seemed like forever. All around, the cold, the darkness, pressed against Rose until she was ready to scream.
 

“We will return to the hotel,” Nazeem finally said. “I don’t know how many are out. To hunt them—” he turned to Rose and she could just make out his frown, “It would not be safe. We’ll go. Quietly.”

Rose allowed herself to be led. The day had been too long and the night too cold to argue. Nazeem took a circuitous route through the park that came out only a block away from the hotel. Much as she hated to admit it, the warm yellow light of the Astoria’s lobby was a welcome sight.