Dead Spots (Scarlett Bernard #1)(85)
I admit, for a second, I thought about it. I pictured bringing Corry on jobs, teaching her about crime scenes and the Old World and how to survive. We could be a team, and I could be there for her, but not at all in the way Olivia was for me. I could do it right. And Corry could have a whole new future. A job, a friend, an entire new world.
The only problem was, it would be just like mine.
“No. That’s not happening.” Although I’d just promised myself not to antagonize Dashiell, my tone came out harsh and final.
He raised an eyebrow at me. I looked away quickly again. I felt suddenly cold. It’s very scary, I realized, being around actual vampires. I had never appreciated being a null more than I did at that moment.
“We could make her a very nice offer, Scarlett.” His voice was soft and dangerous.
“No. She’s out of this.” This time there was definite belligerence in my voice, and I glanced back at him, waiting for him to slap me or scream or something. Instead, when I looked over, he was calmly playing with his little silver phone. Then he held it up to me again, showing me a new video.
“Scarbo!” Jack’s tinny voice was cheerful and filled with excitement. “Can you believe this? You and I work for the same guy!” My stomach churned with horror, and I felt my hands begin to shake. In the little video, Jack was standing outside of some sort of office building, talking right to the camera. His red hair had grown out a little, and it looked as if he’d been working out, too. He looked good. “Dash owns the company I’m working for now, and I was talking about you today, and it turns out that he uses your cleaning service. How cool is that? Anyway, he told me you were out of town for a couple of days, but he was going to see you soon, so we thought it’d be fun to make a video.” His smile grew a little embarrassed, as though he didn’t know how to sign off, so he just waved and winked at the little camera. “Call you soon, Scar!”
Oh God. Dashiell didn’t just know about my brother, he’d taken steps to get Jack under his thumb. That’s what Jack’s whole move to LA had been about—Dashiell wanting to have better leverage over me, in case I got too uppity.
“You son of a bitch,” I hissed. “He’s my family. My only family.”
Dashiell’s vampire glow hummed as he gave me a mild smile and tucked the phone away, too quickly for my eyes to follow it. “Come, Scarlett, you must have realized I would have to take some measures to keep you...content with your place, let’s say.”
“But Jack...You started this with him way before we knew that I could do this!”
“Yes, wasn’t that lucky of me?”
I stared. Had he anticipated my new ability? It was entirely possible, even likely, that he knew way more about my power than I did. And I was pretty frickin’ sick of it. That will have to change, I thought grimly.
“Now, I have absolutely no intention of harming Jack. He’s quite a good researcher, or so I’m told. Lots of promise to go to medical school as well.”
My mouth snapped shut. Message received. Scarlett has to play well with others. I fully intended to do...something about this, but now wasn’t the time for that, either.
“Now, because you were so helpful to Beatrice and me,” Dashiell continued, “I will drop the issue of your young null friend—for the moment. You will spend a little time recovering, and then you’ll be back to work. For now, things will continue as they have been.” He looked at my face, his eyes narrowing, and I looked away. “But remember who you are, and who you work for, or things could become much less pleasant.”
I said nothing. The first thing I would do when I recovered, I promised myself, was go track down one of the other nulls.
After a moment, Dashiell stood up from his seat. “You are tiring, Scarlett. I will let you rest.”
“Wait,” I said, and he turned to face me. “Ariadne, she said something when Jesse and I talked to her...”
He frowned. “Beatrice told me she sent the two of you down to see her. What did she say?”
“She said to tell you...” I began and paused for breath. I really was tiring. “She hoped your writing was going better. What did that mean?”
Dashiell just stared at me until I started to feel uncomfortable. Finally, he sat back down in his chair. “All right, Scarlett. You saved Beatrice. I suppose I owe you a story. Do I need to go into why this must remain between us?”
I tried to shake my head, but it hurt. “No,” I whispered. I could have stopped him then—I didn’t really need to know—but now I was curious.
“I’m not as old as I may seem, Scarlett. With most vampires, power comes from age, but I was turned only two hundred years ago. Do you know anything about English literature from that time?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “Nothing past the average public school education.”
He allowed me a faint smile. “Let’s just say that while many vampires will boast about a relationship with a celebrity in their long lives, mine came before I was turned. In eighteen sixteen, I was a personal physician to the famous poet Lord Byron. That summer, he and I rented a house in Lake Geneva with some friends—Percy Shelley; Mary Godwin, his bride; and Mary’s stepsister, Claire.”
“Frankenstein,” I whispered.
“That’s right. The weather was horrible, and we were stuck indoors. One night, Byron read aloud from a book of horror stories and suggested we each write one. Mary started writing The Modern Prometheus—Frankenstein—on that trip. Percy wrote a number of short ghost stories, and Byron started a story, which came to be called Fragment of a Novel, about a vampire. Something spooked him, however, and shortly after the trip, he abandoned it.”