"He swears he has created a device that will warm a unit of blood in less than ten minutes," Charles snorted. "You know how many times we've tried something like this and it just ruins the blood."
"I realize that. Why don't you ask him to submit the schematics instead and we will decide whether to allow him inside the Council chamber."
"I'll do it." Charles held out a hand and Wlodek handed the paper over, holding it by a corner with an expression of distaste. Gilbert wasn't one of his favorite vampires.
"Has Radomir arrived, yet?" Wlodek asked. "I wish to speak with him."
"I'll find out," Charles said, lifting the walkie-talkie from the holster at his belt. "Rolfe, has Rad come in?" he released the button on the walkie-talkie.
"Not yet," came the crackling reply.
"Send him up when he arrives," Charles said.
"Will do," Rolfe sent back.
"Anything else, Honored One?" Charles asked.
"Nothing at the moment," Wlodek told him. Charles turned quickly and left the office.
Radomir, the youngest of Wlodek's three remaining vampire children, arrived in Wlodek's study less than fifteen minutes later. "Father?" Radomir dipped his head respectfully to Wlodek.
"Child, I want you to contact Gavin Montegue," Wlodek sighed. "And keep it quiet. This must be between the three of us, do you understand?"
Radomir's eyes widened only a fraction but Wlodek caught it. Radomir knew things were serious if Wlodek was asking for their most effective Assassin. Gavin had served the Council as an Enforcer for three hundred years before taking on the assignment as Wlodek's elite Assassin. If Gavin went after a rogue, their death was assured and would come swiftly.
"What shall I tell him, father?" Radomir asked.
Wlodek watched his youngest turn carefully. Radomir was more than eleven hundred years old. Flavio was nearly eighteen hundred. And the other—only that child and Wlodek knew that Wlodek had made him. He was quite old indeed.
"I have had word from someone operating on my behalf in the U.S.," Wlodek shuffled papers on his desk. "He tells me that two of ours accidentally turned a female and she is running loose and feeding from the populace without guidance."
"Do you know where she is?" Radomir wanted to know. His breath had caught when his sire said female.
"Not exactly," Wlodek frowned and signed his name to the top paper. "We've narrowed it down to a general area. I also want those two imbeciles taken into custody and brought to me. I wish to question them before we pass sentence."
"And the female?" Radomir was still holding his breath.
"She will be eliminated," Wlodek said softly. "If those fools had taken responsibility in the beginning, this might have been avoided. As it is," Wlodek signed his name to another paper, "I am considering her rogue, my child. That is why I'm calling Gavin."
"I'll bring him tomorrow evening, father." Radomir nodded to Wlodek again and left the study. Radomir knew why Wlodek was asking him to contact Gavin. All of Wlodek's calls came through Charles. Wlodek didn't want to upset Charles with this for some reason. Radomir would never say it, but he found Gavin's involvement and Wlodek's decision just as distasteful as Charles might.
* * *
Davis was forced to take Winkler's date home. He'd grumbled about the assignment and then Phil had done a little grumbling of his own so Davis loaded the woman in the car and pulled through the iron gate. She was humming and applying lipstick when he dropped her off. Davis made a mental note and pulled away a little, turning a corner before stopping to watch the woman.
"We need to run a check on the person living at this address," Davis walked into the kitchen later with a slip of paper in his hand, interrupting Winkler at breakfast.
"What's that?" Winkler wiped his hands on a napkin.
"The real address of your lady friend from last night," Davis growled. "She asked me to drop her off at an apartment complex in Fort Worth, but I pulled around and waited while she made a call on her cell and a cab came to pick her up. I followed until the cab dropped her off at this address." Phil and Glen were helping themselves to pancakes the cook had just served up, but Phil was the one who reached over and took the address from Davis.
"Lissa was about to have a hissy fit over the woman last night," Winkler smiled and cut into his own pancakes.
"Maybe you should listen to Lissa more often," Davis said. "She had that reporter collared before he could even blink."
"And that's why there's no footage of me all over the news this morning," Winkler agreed. "Perhaps we should make ourselves a little more public. Do you think she'd like to go to a basketball game? I have tickets for tonight."
"Are you sure this is what you want? You know they'll broadcast your image all over the place."
"A game is harmless," Winkler observed. "Lissa can appear to be my date. She's quite attractive."
"I haven't failed to notice," Davis said dryly. "But she said last night she only has jeans to wear."
"Here," Winkler passed over his credit card. "Go find something for her. Size six."
"How do you know these things?" Davis muttered, slipping the credit card into his pocket.
"Why do you think they're all after me?" Winkler replied, grinning. "I'm a genius."
* * *
Davis was pounding on my door when I got out of the shower at six-fifteen. Yeah, I know I hadn't bought a robe and the motel room I'd rented hadn't been classy enough to provide one that I could steal. And yes, I'm probably going to hell for even thinking about stealing a robe. If hell exists. Truthfully, I think I've been there for a while. "What?" I flung the door open, clothed only in a big, fluffy towel that I'd wrapped around myself. At least Winkler provided his guests (and employees) with big fluffy towels.
Davis just stared for a minute, shut his mouth a few seconds past that and handed a bag over to me. "We're going to a Mavericks game tonight and Winkler wants you to pose as his date. Wear something in the bag." He turned to leave. I was too shocked to thank him at first. In my experience, men didn't normally buy anything you'd pick for yourself and it usually didn't fit on top of that. Remembering my manners when it was nearly too late, I yelled, "Thanks," at his retreating back. Davis just flung up a hand and kept walking toward the stairs.
Okay, the long-sleeved top was really pretty. A royal blue with some sort of beading, designed in a crossover style that would accent the br**sts. There were two other tops; one pink, the other a plum color, but I liked the blue best. Then there were two pairs of slacks and a skirt. The skirt I tossed aside right away—it was short. The shoes at the bottom of the bag were only a half-size off. Davis must be good at sizing people up; the clothes were all in a size six.