“I’m getting there. Growing more comfortable every day.”
“And Hector? How is he working out?”
“Very well. His blood is exceptional.” She nodded at Octavian, who was hovering at the door. “Thank you. That will be all.” She sat back down at her desk but Luciano remained standing. “Is it possible that his blood can change over time?”
He stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“The taste of it seems to be changing.”
Luciano stuck a finger into the collar of his shirt, loosening it. “Yes, of course, this is natural. You wouldn’t know this as you are such a vampling, but it is typical. Think nothing of it.” He waved his hand as if her concerns should be dismissed the same way.
She let it drop. “And how are you doing?”
“Così-così.” He tipped his hand back and forth like a balance and sighed. “I wish I was here on better circumstances.”
Octavian suddenly came in. “Did you call me?”
She scowled at his intrusion. “No. You must be hearing things.” Hopefully after he closed the door he would go back to his desk and stay there. Since their night at Seven, she’d kept him at arm’s length in punishment for his disrespect. He may be a more experienced vampire but he was still her assistant and she was still the mayor, and while she desperately wanted whatever information he could give her on the ancients, she would have to go about getting it from him another way. She turned her attention back to Luciano. “Why better circumstances? What’s wrong?”
He pointed to the sitting area across the room. “Perhaps we can sit where it is more comfortable?”
“Of course, yes.” She walked over to the loveseat while he took the club chair. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No, I’m fine, grazie.” He planted his elbows on his knees and leaned in. “There has been a murder.”
She nodded. “I know. Two of them now. The police are working on it, but unfortunately everything is pointing to a vampire killer.”
He frowned. “No, not a human murder. A vampire murder.”
“What? Where?”
“At Seven.” He sat back a bit. “I know you and Dominic aren’t on… the best of terms, but this is something that affects us all.”
She waved her hand. “I agree. I’m sure we can move past what’s happened in light of this news. Who was it?”
“A close friend of Dominic’s who also worked at the club. Katsumi Tanaka. Did you ever meet her?”
Lola went still, her head going in a hundred directions as she searched for an answer. They’d just been there. Just met with her. What had happened after she and Luke had left? Could Octavian have done something? But no, he didn’t seem the type. “Yes, but I can’t say that I knew her. What happened?”
He shrugged. “When one of our kind dies there is so little evidence left. All we know is that her ashes were found in her office this evening.”
“How awful.” Truth would serve her best. It would take only a little questioning for him to find out she and Octavian had met with Katsumi, but Octavian was her link to the ancients. She had to protect him, at least a little while longer. “I just saw her last night. I was at Seven with my assistant. He even talked to her about the possibility of purchasing his own comarré, but he wasn’t feeling well and we left before anything happened.”
Luciano stared at her, dragging time out until the urge to speak again became nearly unbearable. It was a technique she knew well and often used at meetings. That knowledge saved her. She smiled back, despite his calculating gaze, and folded her hands comfortably in her lap.
Finally he stood. “Very well. I will inform my uncle that I’ve made you aware of the situation.”
She walked with him to the door. “If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.”
He stopped before opening the door. “We will. It’s good to know the mayor is on our side. With a killer on the loose, one can never be too careful or have too many resources.” He let himself out.
She shut the door behind him, her nerves on edge. He didn’t believe her. She felt it in her bones. What if Octavian had done it? Would he kill her too? What did she really know about him, other than he had information she desperately wanted.
She couldn’t take things slowly anymore, trying to piecemeal the information out of him. Steeling herself, she opened the door. “Octavian, will you come in here please? We need to talk.”
The Claustrum erupted in a deafening roar. Fi ripped the cell door open, then went back to ghost form as soon as Chrysabelle got out of the raptor’s cell.
“Out. Now,” Chrysabelle mouthed, motioning for her to follow. Fi nodded and Chrysabelle took off running. She kept her feet to the path and her eyes straight ahead, only looking back to make sure Fi was still there.
As soon as they hit the ramp, she slowed to yell behind her, “Stay with me.”
“I am,” Fi yelled back. “Twelve floors. Let’s go.”
Chrysabelle nodded and took off again. Her heart pounded in her chest and by the seventh floor, her lungs burned with the effort of breathing the thick, hot air. Still she ran, counting the floors as they ascended. Finally, at twelve, she stopped and bent over, trying to catch her breath. This time, it wasn’t just the wretched air. Something else about this place was wearing her out. Fi said something but she held her hand to her ear to show she hadn’t heard over the wailing and crying and shouting.