A Stone-Kissed Sea
Page 13
“Lucien, it’s nice to meet you.” She dropped his cold hand. “And please call me Makeda. Your reputation is unparalleled. I hadn’t read any of your published articles before Katya assigned me to this lab, but I have taken a look at some Dr. Pak directed me toward. You are an excellent writer.”
Flattering words, but her examination of him felt indifferent. No increase in heartbeat. Her expression, unlike her body, was impossible to read. Her eyes held no warmth, only speculation.
“You’re very young,” Lucien said. “I was expecting someone older.”
A slight narrowing of her eyes was the only reaction she gave him. “If you expect me to apologize for my age, you’ll be waiting awhile.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He detected skepticism in her eyes before she turned back to Baojia. “Thank you for the assistance at the house today,” she said. “The people you sent were very helpful, and the security system seems very thorough.”
“If you insist on living in town, increased security is something I must insist on.”
“And I appreciate it. If you could show me to my offices, I’d like to get settled in. I won’t be able to work a full night tonight, but I’d like to unpack a few things, take a tour of the facility, and meet some of the staff if you have time.”
“Of course,” Baojia said. “Why don’t I ride with you? There’s a road leading to the lab, and you’ll be able to park right behind your office. I can help you unpack and then show you around and introduce you. Almost everyone is working tonight.”
“Excellent, thank you.” Makeda walked back to the car without even glancing at Lucien.
Baojia waited a beat after she’d closed the car doors. He cleared his throat and spoke softly. “‘I expected someone older?’ Really, Lucien?”
Lucien shrugged. “I did.”
“This is where Natalie would say you have no game.”
“She’s a colleague. I don’t need to have game.”
“Right.” Baojia walked to the car and opened the door. The heater was on, and a current of warm air drifted from the driver’s seat and reached Lucien’s nose before the cold night wind snatched it away.
Citrus and cinnamon.
Seven nights later, he was reading another letter from his sire. This one was from Istanbul.
The vampire Zara has disappeared, but the boats loaded with this drug still move through the Black Sea and the Mediterranean unobstructed. There is no stopping it unless we want to draw the humans’ attention, as it is hidden within legitimate goods. A cure is the only hope to save the humans. And ourselves. It is a creeping death, but a death that will be inevitable unless you are successful, my son.
Let it never be said that Saba didn’t have high expectations for her progeny.
He folded the letter and put it in the locked drawer with the others just as someone knocked on his door and opened it only a second later.
“Not acceptable,” he barked, rising to his feet. “If my door is closed, I—”
“Are you serious?” Makeda placed a folder on his desk, tension evident in the clutch of her hands. “I know vampires tend to be archaic, but are you serious with this?”
Lucien crossed his arms and hated that his first thought was that Makeda looked stunning when she was irritated. His second thought was that she was far angrier than she was allowing him to see.
“You asked for copies of my original observation notes,” he said. “Is there a problem with them?”
“Reams of photocopies I can deal with because I know e-mail is an issue. But Latin?”
He shrugged. “You asked for originals. I take my notes in Latin, and I have for roughly two thousand years. If you expect me to apologize, you’ll be waiting awhile.”
Makeda said nothing, but Lucien couldn’t help but notice the color rising to her cheeks. Apparently the unflappable Dr. Abel could be pushed beyond the clinical. So far he’d heard only praise from the team he’d so carefully put together.
She was so friendly for a research scientist.
Such a good listener.
So quick with feedback and surprisingly organized.
There were even rumors she had a sense of humor.
It grated more than it should have.
Lucien asked, “Will you need an assistant to translate them for you? I believe more than one are fluent.”
Of course they were. He’d chosen them.
Makeda’s eyes frosted over. “It’s fine. It’s been a few years, but I’m sure it’ll come back to me. If I run into problems, I’ll call my father. His Latin is probably better than yours.”
“Since I spoke it as a child, I very much doubt that.”
If Lucien had to guess, there were more than a few Latin phrases she was thinking of at that moment. She picked up the file and walked out of the room a few moments before Natalie walked in with the baby.
Natalie handed Sarah to Lucien and took a seat, fighting a smile. Lucien’s instincts immediately calmed when Sarah was in his arms. He loved children, even if he’d never had the desire for his own. He found their presence soothing. Sarah smelled of milk and baby shampoo. She fussed at being away from her mother, so Lucien tucked her into his shoulder and rocked his chair a little so she’d fall asleep.
“Making friends already, I see,” Natalie said. “That didn’t take long.”
“I can’t imagine why she doesn’t like me.”
Flattering words, but her examination of him felt indifferent. No increase in heartbeat. Her expression, unlike her body, was impossible to read. Her eyes held no warmth, only speculation.
“You’re very young,” Lucien said. “I was expecting someone older.”
A slight narrowing of her eyes was the only reaction she gave him. “If you expect me to apologize for my age, you’ll be waiting awhile.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He detected skepticism in her eyes before she turned back to Baojia. “Thank you for the assistance at the house today,” she said. “The people you sent were very helpful, and the security system seems very thorough.”
“If you insist on living in town, increased security is something I must insist on.”
“And I appreciate it. If you could show me to my offices, I’d like to get settled in. I won’t be able to work a full night tonight, but I’d like to unpack a few things, take a tour of the facility, and meet some of the staff if you have time.”
“Of course,” Baojia said. “Why don’t I ride with you? There’s a road leading to the lab, and you’ll be able to park right behind your office. I can help you unpack and then show you around and introduce you. Almost everyone is working tonight.”
“Excellent, thank you.” Makeda walked back to the car without even glancing at Lucien.
Baojia waited a beat after she’d closed the car doors. He cleared his throat and spoke softly. “‘I expected someone older?’ Really, Lucien?”
Lucien shrugged. “I did.”
“This is where Natalie would say you have no game.”
“She’s a colleague. I don’t need to have game.”
“Right.” Baojia walked to the car and opened the door. The heater was on, and a current of warm air drifted from the driver’s seat and reached Lucien’s nose before the cold night wind snatched it away.
Citrus and cinnamon.
Seven nights later, he was reading another letter from his sire. This one was from Istanbul.
The vampire Zara has disappeared, but the boats loaded with this drug still move through the Black Sea and the Mediterranean unobstructed. There is no stopping it unless we want to draw the humans’ attention, as it is hidden within legitimate goods. A cure is the only hope to save the humans. And ourselves. It is a creeping death, but a death that will be inevitable unless you are successful, my son.
Let it never be said that Saba didn’t have high expectations for her progeny.
He folded the letter and put it in the locked drawer with the others just as someone knocked on his door and opened it only a second later.
“Not acceptable,” he barked, rising to his feet. “If my door is closed, I—”
“Are you serious?” Makeda placed a folder on his desk, tension evident in the clutch of her hands. “I know vampires tend to be archaic, but are you serious with this?”
Lucien crossed his arms and hated that his first thought was that Makeda looked stunning when she was irritated. His second thought was that she was far angrier than she was allowing him to see.
“You asked for copies of my original observation notes,” he said. “Is there a problem with them?”
“Reams of photocopies I can deal with because I know e-mail is an issue. But Latin?”
He shrugged. “You asked for originals. I take my notes in Latin, and I have for roughly two thousand years. If you expect me to apologize, you’ll be waiting awhile.”
Makeda said nothing, but Lucien couldn’t help but notice the color rising to her cheeks. Apparently the unflappable Dr. Abel could be pushed beyond the clinical. So far he’d heard only praise from the team he’d so carefully put together.
She was so friendly for a research scientist.
Such a good listener.
So quick with feedback and surprisingly organized.
There were even rumors she had a sense of humor.
It grated more than it should have.
Lucien asked, “Will you need an assistant to translate them for you? I believe more than one are fluent.”
Of course they were. He’d chosen them.
Makeda’s eyes frosted over. “It’s fine. It’s been a few years, but I’m sure it’ll come back to me. If I run into problems, I’ll call my father. His Latin is probably better than yours.”
“Since I spoke it as a child, I very much doubt that.”
If Lucien had to guess, there were more than a few Latin phrases she was thinking of at that moment. She picked up the file and walked out of the room a few moments before Natalie walked in with the baby.
Natalie handed Sarah to Lucien and took a seat, fighting a smile. Lucien’s instincts immediately calmed when Sarah was in his arms. He loved children, even if he’d never had the desire for his own. He found their presence soothing. Sarah smelled of milk and baby shampoo. She fussed at being away from her mother, so Lucien tucked her into his shoulder and rocked his chair a little so she’d fall asleep.
“Making friends already, I see,” Natalie said. “That didn’t take long.”
“I can’t imagine why she doesn’t like me.”
