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Maxwell looked between us both. ‘I guess you do.’ He winked. ‘Now try and look downhearted when you leave, like I was really mean.’
‘That won’t be hard,’ I snarked.
‘Hey! I can’t tell you any more about Jason Alessandro’s disappearance because that’s not my call.’
‘Alessandro as in the restaurant in Windsor? Where he was taken from?’ I asked.
Maxwell gave us a bland look. ‘Did I say Alessandro?’
‘Didn’t you say your family owns the restaurant? Is Jason related to you?’
‘He’s my baby cousin,’ he said softly. He bit his lip. I could see how hard it was for him to follow Roscoe’s orders rather than follow his own instincts – which were to get as much help for his cousin as he could.
‘We’ll still look for him,’ I whispered the promise.
Maxwell shot me a grateful look, then got a hold of himself and wiped his emotions from his face. Tough-guy image restored, he sent me one last instruction. ‘Be careful of Grandfather.’ He opened the door to show us out, and this time we went.
The elementals went quiet as we emerged. I couldn’t feign being downhearted, but I did do a lot of glaring. ‘Call me when you change your mind,’ I snarled convincingly at Maxwell. I meant it. This was idiotic.
I let the door slam shut behind me.
As we climbed into our car, Greg asked, ‘Where to, boss?’
Some days, ‘boss’ felt like a term of endearment but now it felt like he was using it to maintain a distance between us.
I supressed a sigh. ‘Where else? To Alessandro’s, Jeeves.’
Chapter 11
Maxwellhadbeenmyfriend for my entire time in the Other realm. Jess had warned me that Rosie’s was essentially an information gathering location, and that anything said there could end up being passed up the elemental food chain. Her friend Roscoe was now heading the fire elementals, so that was less problematic than it used to be. Still, it occurred to me that even after all this time, I still didn’t know Maxwell’s surname. Presumably, it was Alessandro.
I hated going in blind so I texted Jess.Can you get me some gen on Alessandro’s, the restaurant in Windsor? Who owns it?X
I got an almost instant response.Sure. I’ve got a few minutes now, I’ll run it through my search engines and fire you an email. X
Thanks Jess x
I got a thumbs-up emoji in response.
After a moment, I decided I’d best text Reynard to let him know where we were going. This was as much an investigation into his dead gargoyle as it was about Bobby; the two cases were hopelessly muddled.
Are you crazy?He replied.Do you know who owns Alessandro’s?
Alessandro?I sassed back.
He’s a vampyr, and a rare one at that. He was an elemental before he was turned, and normally such a transformation results in permanent death. Not Alessandro. He’s a vampyranda fire elemental – one of a kind. He is outlawed – clanless – and belongs to no one. The other vampyrs give him a wide berth even though he doesn’t have a clan. That should tell you something.
I wished that Maxwell’s warning about his ‘grandfather’ had been a little more detailed. I knew a little about vampyrs, and the one thing I’d read in my books as a ‘fact’ was that vampyrs could only turn Common humans. If they attempted to turn someone from the Other, theyalwaysdied. Always. Apparently Alessandro was the exception.
Great. We’re still going. Meet us there?I texted Reynard.
Absolutely not.The response made me smile wryly.
Sometimes Greg has this inconvenient rash of over protectiveness. I decided to keep Reynard’s intel to myself for now or he’d insist on something stupid, like making me stay in the car. That was not going to happen.
Nothing will stop us hunting,Esme growled to me. I silently agreed. We were all in; nothing was going to stop us – not even a slightly scary fiery vampyr.
Alessandro’s was evidently for the rich. It was a classy Italian restaurant not too far from the Long Mile, its name scrawled in elegant golden letters across exposed bricks. The restaurant was heaving with customers. When we parked outside, the other vehicles were all Range Rovers and Porsches.
