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“If you’re wanting to get a feel for the incoming group,” Marco told me, “you should know Etta has only been with us five nights, six if you count this one. Patience might be a better choice.”
“I’m aware of Etta’s status.”
Marco shrugged. “Exchange phone numbers with her. She won’t be in charge of my flock. You’ll still need to go through Moira to arrange any visits with them.”
I could arrange my own visits, and would, but I didn’t correct the incoming Master Vampire.
* * * *
Etta
I did not need a slayer calling me for anything. I just didn’t. I tried to think of a way to protest, but nothing sounded politic. Finally, I asked, “Why me?”
Ryan’s expression told me I surprised him — only for an instant, and then it was gone, but I didn’t think you could surprise a slayer.
“Why not?” he asked.
The weight of his gaze hit me, and it was hard to breathe. Slayers are immune to our gazes. Well, nearly all of us — the strongest could sometimes control them, but I had no expectations I could control or manipulate this one. I looked down and away because, for a moment, I wondered if he might control me with his gaze. The day before, he’d avoided looking into my eyes, what had changed?
“I apologize if I offended you, slayer.”
He looked sideways at Marco, and Marco met his gaze a few seconds before he turned it on me. “You will make yourself available to the slayer when he requests it. If you feel he’s too big of a burden on your time, come to me with your concerns.”
“As my Master wishes, so shall it be done.”
I’d answered in Latin to my previous Master, but the words had meant the same. Marco’s expression, for a microsecond, looked as if I’d slapped him, but he recovered. The vampires would notice, but did the slayer? I didn’t know enough about him to even try to guess.
Marco looked to Venom and back to me. “I’d like the two of you to stay after the meeting.”
Just saying, “okay,” seemed flippant, but he hadn’t liked the formal answer. I needed to say something fast, so I landed on, “Of course, Master.”
The slayer spoke without moving any body part other than his mouth, and he didn’t look my way. “I was hoping for approximately half an hour of Etta’s time after the meeting, Marco.”
Marco looked between me and the slayer twice before telling him, “You may remain as well.”
If I’d been a new vampire, I’d have shaken my head without thinking, but I froze in place rather than give away even a micro-expression of how horrified I was that our Master was allowing a slayer to sit in on what I’d thought would be a personal conversation about how fucking awkward it was to have someone I once mentored as my Master. I was doing everything I could to show him the respect he deserved, but I’d obviously struck a nerve and he clearly wanted to talk about it.
A knock sounded on the door, and Marco strode to it and opened it.
“Patience, I believe you know everyone?”
She looked around the room and answered, “I do.”
Marco had turned Patience nearly four hundred years ago, and they’d been married for fifty years before what Marco describes as an amicable split. I had no idea why she remained with him, but it wasn’t my place to ask. She was his personal assistant, and she maintained his calendar and appointments.
“I have a list of the contractors Abbott used,” Patience told us, “and they recommend a human interior designer. The young human man, Matty, belongs to a raven, one of the local bikers.”
“The bikers had a treaty with Abbott, and now have one with Kendra,” I told them. “I have a meeting with the Rolling Thunder president and his top people tomorrow night.” I hated giving away so much in front of the slayer. What was Marco thinking? I understood that Abbott had felt as if not hiding from the slayer would make him trust us more, but this felt terribly invasive.
Patience nodded. “My notes say the bikers are allies. Those of you who’ll be greeting our allies from a position of power in an office will be given a budget for Matty to help design said office. If you wish him to help with your personal suite as well, that’s your dollar. My notes also say not to call him Matthew or Matt, and to be on your best behavior with him.”
Marco had made it clear that any orders Patience gave were to be seen as his orders, so I turned my phone over and looked through my calendar. I had an appointment with Matty on the heels of my meeting with the bikers.
Patience looked to me. “Your hairstylist has requested a meeting with you.”
I’d turned the woman who does my hair seven decades before, and at my request, Marco had arranged it so I could bring her with me. However, he’d put her in a coterie house just over the Georgia line. It was only a forty minute drive away, but it would put us in different social circles, oathed to a different Master. Marco wanted me to integrate with his vampires, so he was keeping us away from each other while allowing her close enough she could still do my hair. Also, it gave the local vampires another nighttime salon. I’d have obviously preferred to have her closer, but I appreciated the effort and funds he’d expended to bring her to the States.
I looked to Marco. “I’ll be purchasing a salon for her. If she’s asking for a meeting, it’ll probably be with the real estate agent, so I can view prospective properties she’s zeroed in on.”
