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Serge snorted.
Dominique kept himself busy by teaching his regular Friday night Aikido class. His dojo shared space with Samantha’s yoga studio and served as the official address for the Lord of Night. Also, teaching was a way of keeping his own skills sharp—not to mention his self-control around his mortal students—and to be a visible, active member of the local community.
Afterward, he hunted, drinking his fill several times over in numerous local bars and event venues, gaining more strength. Though he spent a fair amount of these energies in his bed with Cassidy not much later.
His grand plan for his second attempt at day-walking began an hour before dawn when he got busy in the kitchen. The gourmet breakfast experience he prepared was one he intended to enjoy together with Cassidy and Jackson after sunrise. As he prepped ingredients and utensils, he had Cassidy record him talking to himself in French. He was whisking eggs, cream, cinnamon, and vanilla for the toast when the phone in his pocket doodled with a video call.
He retrieved it one-handed and touched the video button to answer.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, my lord,” said Aubrey Wainwright. He looked his usual put-together self. Smart jacket, close shave, impeccable hair. Every inch the Victorian gentleman. Far too much the gentleman to notice or—God forbid—comment on Dominique’s own appearance. In the tiny video image of himself, Dominique spotted a dusting of powdered sugar in his hair.
Cassidy stopped the recording on her phone and went to load the coffeemaker. He gestured with the dripping whisk. “I’m making breakfast.”
“Of course,” Aubrey said, as though that were the most natural thing for a vampire to be doing this time of day. “I shan’t keep you long.”
“Very well. What is so urgent?”
“I’m in San Francisco, and I have made the acquaintance of a highly intriguing lady of our kind.”
“I am pleased to hear it, Aubrey,” Dominique said with a grin. Aubrey needed to loosen up. A lover could be just the thing.
“Er—” Aubrey stammered, then cleared his voice. “Actually, she is of interest to both of us.”
“How so?”
“She refused the re-siring.”
Serge silently appeared in the kitchen and peered into various containers arrayed on the counter. “And you are letting her refuse because…?”
“Because she has requested time to consider. Apparently, forcing the issue right now might present problems for her with the leader of her group, or ‘colony’ as they call themselves. She has given me to understand that he is…challenging.”
“I see.” Aubrey’s mission of locating and re-siring blood-drinkers on Dominique’s behalf was straightforward. He told them of the change in leadership—often having to explain the old leadership as well—and offered an alternative to living with a constant need for terror. Simple. But approaching a group of more than two or three could be dangerous, and not something Aubrey was willing—or expected—to do.
Serge had sidled around him and studied the griddle warming on the gas flame. When he made to poke a finger at the melting butter pad, Dominique swatted his hand with the whisk. “So you are requesting the hunters?” he asked. He hoped not. Jackson was his only source of suppressant.
“Actually, my lord, if I may—” Aubrey stopped, appearing to think better of what he was about to say. “The colony numbers over two-hundred members, some of them quite old. With all due respect to your mortal aides, that is considerably more than I think they could safely handle. Even during the day.”
“Merde!”Dominique put the whisk down and rubbed his forehead with two fingers, chasing a spontaneous ache. This wasn’t what he wanted to have to deal with right now. When he sent the Strikers to aide Aubrey or one of his other emissaries, they located the comatose blood-drinkers during the day and secured them so that when they woke the next night, they had a very clear understanding of the new regime’s true reach and power. Only rarely did a blood-drinker decline to be re-sired at that point, which was when Jackson and Garrett “cleaned up.” Two hundred vampires was a large group by any standard—one that required a territory rich in prey.
Serge leaned against the counter on the kitchen’s other side, his attention now solely on Dominique.
“Are they in San Francisco?”
“No, my lord. They do business here, which is how I came to meet Miss Natalia, but—”
“Business?”
“Yes, indeed. Their leader has fashioned himself the head of an international conglomerate based in Vancouver, Canada. As I understand it, he uses the fortunes he earns from this enterprise to provide the sort of lifestyle for his followers that they find difficult to resist.”
“No doubt.”
“I should mention that I was extended an invitation by the charming Miss Natalia to visit there, and I contemplate doing so. Although, perhaps, not in my official capacity as your emissary,” he hedged.
“A social call. Of course. That is a brilliant idea. Get to know your new lady friend in her home territory and see what goes on there. Then we shall decide how to proceed.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
A strange flicker in Aubrey’s eyes stopped Dominique from disconnecting. “What else is on your mind,chèr?”
