Part 9 (2/2)
”Of course not.” From most people, the instant words would have sounded insincere, but every word Jay said seemed to be measured and considered. ”My first loyalty is to my kin. If Sarah was willing to sacrifice herself, then that shows she, too, is still loyal to that same idea. If we cannot survive without destroying that which shows us what we could be...well...” He shrugged. ”It is an idea I find distasteful, but survival sometimes requires doing that which you would prefer not to.”
Finally, Zachary let himself say the words that had been on the tip of his tongue almost since Jay first walked into Dominique's home and introduced himself.
”You creep me out, Jay.”
The Marinitch witch laughed. ”I think I'll take that as a compliment,” he said. ”Who's the woman?”
The question was so unexpected that Zachary exclaimed, ”What?”
There was only one woman Jay could be asking about.
Jay tilted his head inquisitively. ”I am not aware of any ancient Vida law that forbids her line from having relations.h.i.+ps. So why do you hide it?”
”I don't-” He broke off, because denials were effectively useless. He didn't recall thinking about her, though he knew she came to mind intermittently, especially when he was this tired. ”I don't hide hide it. But I don't discuss my personal life with people like Dominique or Adia, either. That just isn't the relations.h.i.+p we have,” he said, settling for honesty, since he knew a lie wasn't likely to get him far. ”And frankly, it isn't the relations.h.i.+p you and I have, either, so I would appreciate it if you dropped the subject.” it. But I don't discuss my personal life with people like Dominique or Adia, either. That just isn't the relations.h.i.+p we have,” he said, settling for honesty, since he knew a lie wasn't likely to get him far. ”And frankly, it isn't the relations.h.i.+p you and I have, either, so I would appreciate it if you dropped the subject.”
There was no law against a Vida having a relations.h.i.+p. It had in fact been hinted to him, strongly and frequently, that he was twenty-six years old and should get around to choosing a partner so he could pa.s.s on the Vida genes, like some kind of prize bull. But the only girl Zachary could possibly bring home-so to speak-was one who was capable of taking down a vampire using her bare hands. Anyone he might describe as comforting was no one Dominique would approve of or even want to know about.
He left before Jay had a chance to make any more comments. Adia had ordered him to sleep, and he would obey, but she hadn't said where where, and he didn't intend for it to be where the telepath could rake his dreams. He obviously didn't have as much control over his conscious mind as he had thought. The last thing he wanted was to give Jay unfettered access to his dreams and nightmares.
He grabbed his jacket, but paused when he realized that Adia wasn't around anymore.
”She went out to follow up on a lead,” Jay said when Zachary hesitated.
”She didn't say anything to me.”
Jay shrugged, not needing to respond out loud: Maybe she a.s.sumed you didn't want to know Maybe she a.s.sumed you didn't want to know.
She was going after Jerome. Had he really expected her to do anything else? The realization filled him with a kind of fatalistic resignation. It was out of his hands now.
”I'm going out,” he said. He took his keys from their hook beside the doorway. He let his mind be blank, empty, with nothing for the Marinitch to hear. ”I have my cell phone if Adia needs to reach me.”
He didn't think he had a destination, until he found himself in front of a familiar apartment. He climbed the gray brick stairs and put out a hand like a man who had been hypnotized. He felt like he didn't knock but rather watched as his knuckles struck the turquoise door of their own volition.
The woman who opened the door greeted him with a soft smile.
”Zimmy,” she said as she reached forward and ushered him inside. She pulled her hand back at the last moment with a rueful chuckle and held it up apologetically. ”Let me just wash my hands and toss a towel over my project.”
Her hands were coated in red-brown clay. Her s.h.i.+rt, arms and face had been spattered with it, as well, from the work she had been throwing on a potter's wheel in the corner of the fairly small kitchen.
She put a damp towel over the work in progress, washed her hands and arms, pulled the clip out of her strawberry blond hair to allow it to fall loose to her shoulders in a riot of waves, and put on a kettle full of water before she asked, ”Tea?”
”Please,” he replied, feeling his whole body relax in her presence. He no longer needed to focus and struggle to keep his breath from speeding and his heart from pounding.
”Hard day?” she asked.
He nodded.
”You look terrible,” she said, ”like you've been trying to run a marathon in the rain with the flu.”
The words made him laugh, the kind of sound that could find its way from his throat only around her, because she was the only one with whom he could accept how utterly empty and absurd his life was.
”My cousin tried to kill me today,” he said. He realized that his voice held an edge of hysteria. ”She nearly succeeded. But I guess that's fair, since I was trying to kill her at the time.”
”Do you need help with her?” she asked.
He shook his head. He didn't know what kind of help she might offer, and he was pretty sure he didn't want to. Michael wasn't the only one whose friends did not live entirely by Vida code. Zachary maintained his relations.h.i.+p with Olivia by never allowing himself to consider the people she was willing to work with.
The kettle whistled, and Olivia poured two cups of tea. She made his sweet, with just a little cream, the way she knew he liked it, and handed it to him in a mug she had made with her own hands and always kept aside for him. She had ”given” it to him as a gift, but kept it in her cupboard because she knew he wouldn't be able to keep it anywhere he lived. A beautiful handmade piece of pottery sitting alongside the generic bargain-store white mugs would lead to too many awkward questions.
By the time he had taken the first sip, his anxiety was gone, leaving only bone-deep exhaustion behind. Olivia sat behind him, on the back of the couch, so she could ma.s.sage his shoulders.
”So,” she said as he shut his eyes and leaned back against her. ”Do you want to talk about this horrid hunt you're on?”
”I can't,” he answered. Some of Olivia's contacts could probably connect him to his targets, which meant that according to the Rights of Kin, he should should be demanding answers from her. But he couldn't stand to do so. And since no one else knew about her, no one would tell him otherwise. be demanding answers from her. But he couldn't stand to do so. And since no one else knew about her, no one would tell him otherwise.
”You put all of SingleEarth in a flurry,” she said. ”I had three appointments cancel this morning.” From someone else, the words might have sounded like an accusation, but from her they were as casual as a remark about the weather.
”Sorry,” he said anyway.
”Never apologize to me for doing what you have to do, and being what you have to be,” she replied, tilting his head up so he met her dark gaze squarely. She slid down from the back of the couch to lean against his side. ”You should get some sleep, darling.” She ran a hand up his chest, then hooked one finger under the chain barely visible at his throat, fis.h.i.+ng the necklace out so she could see it. The pendant was also Olivia's work; she claimed that it was one of her first experiments with silver.
”I can't go home.”
She didn't hesitate. ”Stay here. I'll have homemade beef stew ready when you wake. You need to get your blood pressure back up. You're much too pale.” Before he could comment on her ability to read him so well, she remarked, ”I probably know you better than you know yourself.”
”Do you know how I'm going to make it through this hunt?”
She paused and kissed his cheek before saying, ”I don't care how. I just hope you do do.”
As she returned to the kitchen, he stretched out on the couch. He tried to watch her start the stew she had promised, but his eyelids began to droop. He knew it was a lie, an illusion, but he felt felt safe, and his body responded accordingly, pulling him down into a deep, peaceful sleep. safe, and his body responded accordingly, pulling him down into a deep, peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER 15
SAt.u.r.dAY, 4:37 P.M. P.M.
AS DUSK FELL, Sarah opened her eyes.
She had been dreaming-or remembering....
There had been a girl, a beautiful lady, with honey blond hair and dove white skin. She stood beside a sable horse, one hand on the leather of the saddle, and one hand out like a queen giving a serf permission to rise.
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