Page 114 of Blood Stone

A cold finger ran up Sebastian’s spine, from his tailbone to the base of his skull. As it rippled upwards, all the hairs along his back tried to stand upright.

A year ago, Sebastian would have rated Nial as the most dangerous being in the world, or close to it. Three days ago, Nial had been tossed about Garrett’s trailer by a Curandero and he had laughed that off.

Now he was warning Sebastian to be careful around this Cyneric character.Warninghim.

Who the hell was this guy?

* * * * *

A black stretch limousine sat still, silent and with its lights off, parked against the curb in the tow-away zone in front of the hangar’s freight entrance.

Cyneric opened the back door and waved Nial and Sebastian inside. He smiled, showing even, white teeth and absolutely no humour.

Nial faced him across the open doorway and motioned Sebastian into the limousine. “After you, Sebastian,” he said quietly.

“Your caution is quite unnecessary,” Cyneric said, his smile growing. “You are under the protection of my employer and have been for two days.”

Since the photo hit the newswires, Sebastian calculated. Two days ago, it would have reached Britain.

He ducked between the pair of them, the skin on his back crawling, and made his way into the limousine. Nial had his back. It was a reassuring thought.

A woman sat on the glowing leather bench seat behind the driver, her knees crossed and her calves angled at a perfect forty-five degrees. She wore conservative shoes, a dress that Sebastian suspected was some sort of silk, definitely designer and possible haute couture, in a dark moss green that matched her eyes.

Her hair was pulled back into a neat French twist. It looked as if it was a chestnut colour.

“You were the other one in the photo,” she said.

“Guilty,” Sebastian agreed.

She pointed to the long seat running under the windows, down the side of the car. “You may sit there.”

There was one other seat near her – a single seat next to the other windows, which left enough room to slide through to the bench where the woman sat. The seat was the only single chair in the car. It faced the woman and reminded Sebastian of the tales of the Round Table and the Perilous Chair and the fate of all who had dared sit in it.

Sebastian settled on the bench opposite the lonely chair.

Nial eased passed him.

“You sit there.” The woman pointed to the chair.

Nial sat and leaned forward, studying her.

Cyneric shut the door of the limousine and sat next to Sebastian. He leaned sideways and tapped the glass separating them from the driver.

There was an almost silent purr as the engine started. The limousine swayed gently as it pulled away from the curb.

The woman glanced at Cyneric.

“They are Nathanial and Sebastian, as you suspected.” He lifted the padded lid of the bar next to him and began mixing a drink, his hands moving with practised ease. “They are lovers, perhaps even married and living in a ménage with a woman called Winter. She is Curandero and has just discovered her heritage. The Curandero are teaching her now. Nathaniel believes the time for disguises will soon be at an end. Coupled with the rumours we gathered of events in New York last year, I would say that Nathanial is planning to announce the existence of vampires to the world at large. That is backed up by the fact that the Curandero did not wipe his memory when they first tracked down his wife and they teach her openly, in front of her husbands. He is sure enough of his mission he has managed to convince them it is feasible.” Cyneric gave a one-sided smile. “Passionate so often provides filler when intelligence is missing.”

Nial brought his fingertips together and rested them against his lips. Sebastian knew the gesture of old. He was hiding his real reactions. Holding them all back behind a mask of artificial calm.

Sebastian took a deep breath and let all his angst drop into a deep black pool and calm wash over him. He had to take his cues from Nial for now. He was completely out of his depth. There was too much information he didn’t have that he needed to be able to make any sort of decision. Nial knew more.

But Nial had been around a lot longer than he.

Nial didn’t even look at Cyneric. It was as if the man hadn’t spoken. The vampire. For Sebastian had him registered now. He had no scent and no blood markers. Sebastian could hear no heartbeat. The man was vampire.

The woman was vampire, too. She was studying Nial with odd intensity. “Do you know who I am?” She had an accent that Sebastian had never heard before. He might have called it mid-European, except it wasn’t. His instincts said it was very old.