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The two sit and Ethan follows. I remain standing off to the side of the room with Delilah. Antonia’s eyes immediately dart to me, she turns her head to the side, as though sniffing the air. “Why is the human present?” she asks, in a voice as sharp and lethal as razor blades. I just about wince at the sound of it.
“This is Tegan. She’s with me.” Ethan answers, and Antonia nods as though that is explanation enough.
Howard seems preoccupied, and it’s Antonia who speaks first. “As I’m sure you’ve heard,” she begins, casting a quick assessing glance in Delilah’s direction. “We had an intruder enter our home last night. Somehow this person managed to bypass our guards, breach all of our security measures, and enter the Governor’s study where he had been going through paperwork. If it weren’t for the fact that a maid entered and found the masked intruder standing behind Howard with a stake in hand, my dear husband would not be here with us right now.”
“Was this person apprehended?” Ethan asks, his expression unreadable.
“No, sadly not.” Howard answers, speaking up for the very first time, in an accent that sounds odd, disjointed as though from a very different era. “He got away before my guards could catch him, which is why we theorise that he was of our kind. Otherwise he would not have been able to outrun them.”
“Ah,” says Ethan. “So you are here to question if it was I who arranged this – intrusion.”
“It is necessary,” replies Howard. “No offence is to be taken, and I will not entertain such a reaction if it is. My guards have already questioned your staff, most of whom were here working at the time of the attack. Therefore, we have now only to establish your own innocence before we can be on our way.”
“Very well, I have nothing to hide,” says Ethan, clasping both palms together. When he says this it makes me wonder if in fact he was behind the attack on Herrington, but then I remember the fond way in which he referred to the Governor on Saturday night. Like an old friend. No, it couldn’t have been Ethan, he seems to like Howard far too much to try and have him murdered. Then again, people do a lot of irrational things in the quest for power. I wonde
r if telling this little white lie will be more trouble than it’s worth. “Exactly what time was it that the attack took place?” he asks after a pause.
“Between two-thirty and three-o’clock this morning,” says Howard, watching Ethan’s reaction very closely.
“Ah, well. This will all be very easy to clear up then,” says Ethan in a breezy tone. “I was with Tegan all last night, wasn’t I beautiful?” he continues, his steel blue gaze boring into me.
“Yes, that’s right.” I answer, trying to sound as carefree as possible.
Howard looks to me for a brief moment, and then back to Ethan. They stare at each other for a long minute, as though communicating telepathically. Maybe the really old vamps can do that.
“You have my permission,” says Ethan to Howard, despite the fact that nothing was asked permission for by the Governor. At least not out loud.
Howard turns to me, and I guess he’s going to use his compulsion to get the truth out of me. I mentally prepare myself to put on an act as though mildly hypnotised. But, just as he’s opening his mouth and focusing his eyes on mine somebody comes storming through the door. Lucas. He pulls a bedraggled man into the office by the scruff of the neck, throwing him into the centre of the room.
“What’s all this?” demands Herrington.
“He’s just some random homeless guy I think,” Lucas answers. “But he’s been put under some sort of spell, he came running up to the entrance of the club while I was working the door and began demanding he be seen by Governor Herrington. Said he’s got a message from the Sorcerer Theodore.”
At the mention of the name Howard instantly pales. “He’s lying,” he says in a small voice. “Theodore hasn’t been seen in Tribane for decades. He’s – he’s long dead.”
Suddenly the tramp sputters saliva and begins rambling in a strange, unnatural, distorted voice that sends shivers down my spine. “Theodore is back. My message is to you Governor Howard Herrington, Vampire leader of Tribane. The Sorcerer Theodore has come to take your territory from you. He has already shown how easy it is for him to gain access to your private home. If you do not surrender your title to him within the next thirteen days there will be a mighty war, a war you will lose.”
Then the man falls to the floor and starts to convulse as though having an epileptic fit. A moment later he goes still as stone, then jumps to his feet, pulling a sharp silver knife from his coat pocket. He lunges at Howard, but the two burly bodyguards grab the tramp before he can get to the small man. They pin him to the floor, bashing his head off the hard tile.
“Get him out of here!” Howard shouts, glaring at the tramp with hatred in his odd yellow eyes that remind me of a serpent. “Drusilla! Drusilla! Get in here now!” At this, Dru rushes in and Howard takes her aside to whisper furiously in her ear, she nods, grabs the homeless man from the floor and lifts him out of the room, closing the door behind her. A cold sweat trickles over my forehead as I imagine what will become of the poor sod. Howard will obviously have to make an example of him, as I’m sure he can’t afford to be seen allowing random humans to make an attempt on his life and get away scot free.
“Did I hear that vermin correctly?” Antonia hisses in a shrill, almost hysterical voice.
“Whoever it was that put the spell on him,” Delilah speaks up, “they were clearly just trying to spook you by using that name. Theodore died way back in the sixties, it’s definitely not him who’s behind this. Perhaps they imagine the Governor will surrender at the mere mention of the name. It’s an obvious bluff.”
Antonia’s jade eyes flick to Delilah when she speaks, and they hold just the tiniest fraction of disdain. Perhaps she doesn’t like the fact that a dhamphir is allowed to live among vampires simply because of who her father was. Whoever he was. There’s still so much I don’t know.
“Yes, yes. You are right my child,” says Antonia, with false warmth. “Our people will discover the true identity of this assassin,” she pauses, with a sweeping glance over those present, lingering on Ethan for longer than necessary, clearly he’s not out of the woods of suspicion just yet. “And when they are caught they will wish they had never been born.” It’s a clear threat, and coming from this woman you’d truly believe her intentions to rip this enemy apart, limb by limb, shred by shred.
Antonia takes the hand of her husband, who dips his head respectfully to Ethan, and the two swiftly make their way out of the room, their bodyguards trailing along behind. Before leaving, Antonia pauses by me, her shrewd eyes taking me in. “She is surprisingly lucid for a blood donor, Ethan,” she remarks in that cutting voice, my heart shrinks. “And, I see no visible marks on her. I do hope you are not being foolish, my dear.” Antonia’s eyes glare in Ethan’s direction for a brief second.
“Of course not, my Governess,” replies Ethan. “I simply prefer to take my sustenance from a less visible part of the body.” He finishes with a heart stopping smile.
Antonia looks at him for a long moment before continuing out the door with her diminutive husband. I let my breath fall heavily, not having noticed I’d been holding it. What can I say? That woman scares me. I thought we were caught out there for a minute.
The second they’ve gone Delilah sags down into a chair. Tentatively, I go to sit beside her.
“I’d say thank God they’ve left,” says Delilah. “But this last development has me even more worried.”
