Vendetta (Page 2)

"Unfortunately we do not have the resources to continue tracking him, but Matthew Michaels is also hunting this one since he escaped his government’s imprisonment. Mr. Michaels has promised to keep me informed," Wlodek said. Wlodek seldom revealed any sort of emotion. Vampires had a habit of never showing anyone what they were thinking or how they felt. Vampires were immortals after all, and it never paid to make an enemy of any of them.

"I shall take up the hunt again, should you wish it," Gavin nodded respectfully to Wlodek, keeping his dark eyes pinned to the older vampire. They gave nothing away. Gavin, as the Council’s elite Assassin, also was adept at keeping his emotions hidden.

"I will consider it if we learn anything new," Wlodek replied. "Meanwhile, I hear we have a rogue in Budapest. Charles has information for you. See him on your way out." Wlodek terminated the meeting.

"Of course, Honored One." Gavin turned and walked out quickly. It never paid to try the old one’s patience.

* * *

"Mr. Winkler, I heard a rumor." Jason held his cell to an ear as he walked down a sidewalk in Cordell. Summers could be quite hot in western Oklahoma and Jason Landers kept to the shade as much as possible, walking under awnings of small businesses that lined the street.

"You think it’s a reliable rumor?"

"I’d check it out, I think," Jason said. "I left Marcie at the store—she doesn’t know anything about it. She’s still pretty torn up."

"I understand. I just hope your rumor bears some fruit."

"Me too. I hate to let both of ’em go like that."

"Yeah. I’ll check it out, Jason. You stay with Marcie."

"Sure, boss." Jason sighed, tapped end on his cell and kept walking.

* * *

"I hold hope that my Jewels still live," Friesianna snapped at Parlethis. Parlethis did nothing to conceal his desire to work closely with the Queen as assassin and Sentinel. He’d worked his way up through the ranks of soldiers and guards surrounding the Queen. After the attempt to take the half-child, however, none of the Jewel brothers or the fifteen others had returned to the Queen’s camp.

"Their talismans have not returned to me as they would have, had my Jewels perished," Friesianna informed Parlethis haughtily. "Surely you would not settle for the position without the power talisman. Those alone will guarantee an extra four relocations. They remain with my Jewels, I tell you. I have them not."

Rabis stood nearby, his head bowed as if in thought. The Queen had not ventured to ask his opinion on the matter. The talismans might not return for another reason, but the Queen had ignored the Ekdi H’Morr all along, calling it a book of myth and lies. Rabis knew the Dark King’s Destroyers hadn’t returned, either, and their talismans had failed to come to Baltis. Rabis held back a sigh of impatience. Friesianna might learn someday, when it was far too late, just what the terms failure and comeuppance actually meant.

"Should you not have a special guard at your side to do your bidding until the Jewels return, then? Someone to keep our beautiful Queen safe?" Parlethis was very persuasive. When he wished to be.

"Perhaps," Friesianna pretended to think it over. "Yes. You may be correct. Perform well in your duties and when my Jewels return, we may consider a permanent promotion for you."

"That is all I ask, my lovely and talented Queen." Parlethis bowed low. Rabis wanted to gag. Steeling himself, he remained where he was.

* * *

Traci set the usual glass of ice water down in front of her customer, who seemed completely engrossed in the menu. "You don’t have chicken and dumplings?" he asked, lowering the plastic-covered paper and lifting an eyebrow at the waitress.

"No, sir. Not today. I think we might have it tomorrow, though. The chicken-fried steak is good—it’s the special for today."

"I’ll have that, then." Weldon Harper handed the menu back to the waitress. Winkler said Betsy’s was the best diner in Cordell. He was about to find out.

"What’s the special?" Winkler slid into the booth on the opposite side.

"Chicken-fried steak," Traci said brightly. Two strangers, both handsome, had come in and sat at her table. She was hoping for a good tip and perhaps a little gossip—they didn’t usually get two nice-looking strangers at once. The last time she’d gotten nonlocals, it had been a couple in their mid-fifties who were looking for the historical marker for Cloud Chief.

Traci and her fellow waitresses had snickered at the couple’s questions—there wasn’t anything left of Cloud Chief except the marker and a few crumbling buildings right off the road. The rest of the old ghost town was farmland. Of course, the boy from Philadelphia had been killed not far from there, but everyone knew that was a rogue grizzly bear or something. Nobody had found the creature yet, although there were always rumors of sightings. A bounty had been placed on the creature but so far, nobody had claimed it.

"We’re just passing through," Winkler waved away Traci’s questions. She’d asked if he and Weldon were from the area. He and the Grand Master were on a mission, following up on Jason’s theory. They would learn soon enough if their hunch bore fruit. Weldon had flown commercial into Oklahoma City, while Winkler had driven up from Dallas. They’d agreed to meet at Betsy’s Diner in Cordell for dinner before taking a short side trip.

* * *

"Ready?" Weldon asked after Winkler paid the check.

"Yeah. I’ll drive." Winkler grabbed a toothpick on the way out of the small diner. Winkler had a more comfortable car than Weldon’s rental—he’d driven his Mercedes. Trace and Trajan had been left in Dallas, although they complained about letting him go without any guards. Neither knew he was meeting the Grand Master.

"I prefer North Dakota to this heat," Weldon felt like taking his shirt off.

"You’re just not used to it," Winkler grinned, turning the air conditioner up a notch. Winkler backed out of the parking space and drove away.

* * *

"I left the power on, just in case," Winkler shut the car door quietly after they parked beside the Evans home in Cloud Chief. "Water was on a well and septic," he added, fishing for a note in his pocket. There was no true front door to the house—the Evans family had always come and gone through the garage door. It was the vampire way of making sure a prospective break-in had as many solid walls placed between the outside and the residents inside as possible. Winkler punched in the code written on the note and watched the garage door rise. Another code let him in through the back door and into the kitchen, with Weldon following close behind.