Page 170 of Blood Stone

Roman turned and leaned against the balustrade beside him, working hard to make it look casual, while he struggled to contain his dismay. Was Drysdale bluffing? Did he really have no part in Garrett and Winter’s abduction? “I figured you would have more details than me,” he said carefully.

Drysdale turned his head to look at Roman sharply. “You didn’t get me all the way up here forthat, did you?”

“Why did you think I called?”

“You know damned well why. Don’t be coy, Roman. We’ve been patient beyond reason with you.” Drysdale straightened up. “I came here expecting an answer to our offer. I’d be very disappointed if I thought you’d brought me all this way for nothing.”

“You rode five floors in an elevator, your Worship. It was hardly taxing for you.”

Drysdale thumped the metal railing. “Donotdo this!”

Roman turned to face him properly. “Or what?” he asked softly.

Drysdale studied his face for a minute. “I told them you wouldn’t bend.” He looked toward the Pacific. “Do you have it?”

Roman laughed. “The stone? You really think I’m going to tell you?”

Drysdale shook his head. “I was just curious. Personally curious. I keep hearing rumours… Never mind.” He looked at Roman once more. “I’ve got power and more to spare besides, but I’m a minnow compared to the ones standing behind me. They’ve turnedmeinto their messenger boy. Think about that before you turn and walk away.”

Roman studied him. “Drop the other shoe, Drysdale.”

Drysdale smiled. “You’re being dramatic.”

Roman shook his head. “Nial was right. You’re holding something back and it’s the kicker. Give it to me straight. What happens when I walk?”

“When?” Drysdale sighed. “You’re a hot headed, brainless Greek and you always, always, always fired from the goddam hip, you stupid son of a bitch.”

“I’m a Byzantine,” Roman said, letting his offence show. “Pick up a fucking history book, you ignoramus. Tell me what they’re going to try and use for leverage.”

“Don’t pursue this matter with the girl and Garrett. Leave it alone, Roman. It’s not your concern. It’s not ours.”

“The fuck it’s not,” Roman shot back.

“You chase this one, you’ll end up with much more than a few angry Nazis on your tail,” Drysdale warned him. “This is not an ants’ nest you want to kick over, believe me.”

“You know something? Something that could help me find them?”

Drysdale shook his head. “You’re probably too late, anyway.”

Roman grabbed Drysdale’s shirt front, which triggered the two guards, making them surged forward. Drysdale got his hand up in a ‘stop’ motion and stared up into Roman’s eyes. “Going to try and strangle me like you did that German officer that was summarily executing the Jews in your squad? You always did run five degrees hotter than any vampire I know.”

“B. Goodwich. 1359C South Atlantic Boulevard,” Roman quoted. “Tell me what that means to you.”

Drysdale pulled Roman’s hands away from his shirt and straightened himself up to his full height, which was an inch or so shorter than Roman. “You’ve got that far, then,” he said. “I’m impressed. Sebastian’s good. Very good.”

“It’s an east L.A. address but it’s a nonsense address. There is no 1359C on South Atlantic Boulevard.”

Drysdale shook his head. “I give you anything at all, Roman, they’ll crucify me.”

“Then you know.”

Drysdale gave a dry laugh. “Of course we know! We know everything! With our resources, we could find a lone sheep on the sub-Saharan continent at midnight inside thirty seconds. We’ve known where they were taken thirty minutes after they arrived there.”

Roman closed his eyes. “Are they still alive?”

“The last I heard, yes.”

Something loosened inside him. “You know who Garrett is, don’t you?”