“We’ve been monitoring Damien’s movements for three days,” he pulls out earbud-looking things out of the briefcase. “Facial recognition, movement tracking, threat assessment—all running through the resort’s security systems. These are open channel communication devices,” he says as he hands them out. “The difference with ours is that I’ll be the only one getting allchannels, at all times. If you want to talk to an individual in this group, the moment you say their name you’ll be patched directly into their earpiece. Say ‘Damien’ or ‘everyone’ and you’ll be patched through to the whole group.”
The earpiece is shaped to fit right in the ear, and I can barely see it on Julian once he puts his in. I place mine in after I saw what he did.
“Now I see the perks of being billionaire,” Elena turns the earpiece in her hand and places it in her ear. “Private jets. Nice tech. Poppy.” Elena’s voice goes to a whisper, but I can hear her clearly on my earpiece. “Good catch.” She goes back to her normal, louder self. “Can I get?”
“Elena. Yes,” Julian smiles at her. “You’ll have earned it on this job. I’ll have Rebecca send you a set.”
“How it know when done talking?” Elena points to her ear.
“After a seven second pause,” Marcus closes the briefcase. “Then you’ll have to repeat one of the trigger words.” He picks it up. “With that, I’ll leave you all to it.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” Julian says as Marcus leaves.
Elena claps her hands once. “’Nough formalities. We have war to plan. But first—” she turns to me with an expression that’s almost maternal “—you need to eat. You look pale. Humans need sustenance.”
“I had food poisoning last night.”
“Then you especially need to eat.”
“A vampire called you pale,” Nathaniel laughs as he slaps his hand on his knee. “That’s a new one.”
“Da, da,’nough funny business,” Elena swats at Nathaniel before turning to Julian. “Take us somewhere with food. The girl is wasting away.”
Julian looks at me. I shrug.
“I could eat,” I admit.
“Then it settled.” Elena sweeps toward the door. “Breakfast first. Murder plan second.”
The resort restaurant has a private corner that Julian secures with a single look at the host. We settle into a curved booth—me on one end, Julian beside me, the three vampires arranged in a semicircle that would look casual if you didn’t notice how they’d positioned themselves with clear sightlines to every entrance.
I order eggs, toast, and a truly excessive amount of coffee. The vampires also order breakfast. Full plates of food that I already know they won’t touch. Okay, they touch the food, but they won’t eat it.
“You don’t have to pretend on my account,” I say.
Elena waves dismissively. “It maintains appearances. Humans get nervous when their dining companions don’t eat.”
“I’m already nervous. The not-eating is honestly the least of my concerns.”
“She’s got a point,” Nathaniel clears his throat. “The pretense does seem unnecessary given the circumstances.”
“I like the pretense.” Sofia speaks for the first time since we sat down. She’s pushing a strawberry around her plate with the intensity of someone planning a military campaign. “It keeps us sharp.”
“You’re all so weird,” I blurt out.
Silence.
Then Elena laughs. Actually laughs—a bright, startled sound that transforms her face.
“I really do like her,” she tells Julian. “She says what she’s thinking.”
“It’s a problem,” I admit. “My filter is basically non-existent.”
“Filters are overrated.” Nathaniel abandons his omelet sculpture. “After a few centuries, you learn that honesty is more efficient. Less to remember.”
“Speaking of honesty.” I look around the table. “Am I allowed to ask questions?”
Julian tenses beside me. “Poppy—”
