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“It wasn’t?” Jesse said, glad to get back into the low light of the garden.
“No.” Magnusson’s face was blank as stone.
“So, who did it?”
“That’s his story to tell. Come,” he said, glancing at his watch. “I have a few people I would like you to meet. Then I will have Greenway take you home to pack.”
Jesse stepped into the warmth of the house gratefully, rubbing his hands together to restore feeling.
“I’m registered independent, as I’m sure you know.” Magnusson spoke in a low, level voice as they moved through the house. “But I often have some of my kind to visit. Some of my friends are here tonight. I would ask you to extend to them the same respect you extend to me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Magnusson sent him an inscrutable glance. “Let’s just say your predecessor wasn’t quite as accommodating, not that I entirely blame him. We can be…alarming, especially in a group.”
That’s one word for it.
“I don’t get why you need humans to protect you at all,” Jesse said out loud.
“We really are vulnerable in the day,” Magnusson replied simply, then opened a door and waved Jesse through. “More now than ever. We need humans as our allies, or we won’t survive these changing times.”
Jesse stepped into the parlor. Several figures sat on the loungers or stood with their backs to the LED fire that spanned the length of the wall. They fell silent as Magnusson and Jesse entered. They were all tall, with limbs so lithe and long that they appeared elongated. Their range of skin tones from espresso to ivory glowed as if lit from within. The brightness of their varied eye colors reminded Jesse of a collection of gemstones, but there was an alienness about their beauty that sparked fear in Jesse’s chest.
This was not helped by the fact that they all held crystal glasses of thick, red liquid that left a strange coppery tang in the air.
“So glad you could all make it.”
“Glad to be here, Emory,” the woman by the fire said, her voice low and like the purr of a tiger. “Though, I must confess, I never thought you would ask us to be in the same room as this human.”
“Come again?” Jesse scowled.
“This is the one who broke in,” the woman continued, addressing Magnusson. “I could smell him the second I came through the door.”
“Mr. Truelove is now a member of my security team. I brought him here to introduce him to you all.”
“He tried to trick you into hurting someone,” said another haemophile who stood near the window, his unreadable eyes locked on Jesse. “Just so he could be famous.”
“Not him,” Magnusson countered smoothly. “His friend.”
“We try so hard to make this work, Emory,” a red-haired haemophile with a ghost of an Irish accent and venom-green eyes said from where he sat in an armchair near the fire. “And yet they are still intent on destroying us. Maybe Magister Morak had the right idea.”
“I willnothave that name spoken in this house,” Magnusson said, his voice low and threatening. “And Jesse is my guest. I ask that you extend him some courtesy.”
“You and your human tolerance, Emory,” the first woman said, setting her glass aside. “It’ll be the end of you. I’m warning you now.”
She strode from the room. A couple of the haemophiles watched her go. The rest watched Jesse.
“You must forgive Haji,” a white-haired haemophile, dazzlingly beautiful with the suggestion of a Scandinavian accent, said as he stood from the sofa. “She has trust issues, shall we say.” The haemophile held his hand out to Jesse. “Terje.”
Jesse stared, taking the cool, long-fingered hand in a daze. “ThatTerje?”
The corner of his bloodless mouth tilted, and he exchanged an amused glance with Magnusson. “I suppose I must be.”
A potent mix of fear and wonder stole through Jesse as the silver eyes bore into his. Magnusson came to his rescue by laying a hand on his shoulder.
“Jesse has had a long day. I’m sure you won’t mind if we send him on his way.”
“Of course,” Terje said. “No doubt we’ll meet again. Emory,” he said, turning his penetrating gaze to the baron, his expression suddenly grave, “you won’t be long? We have that matter to discuss.”
