Bloodlines (Bloodlines, #1)(5)

“There, you see, Jared?” Barnes sounded pleased with the answer. “The girl knows her duty. We’ve made a number of arrangements already that should make things run smoothly, and we certainly wouldn’t send her there alone—especially since the Moroi girl won’t be alone either.”

“What do you mean?” My father still didn’t sound happy about any of this, and I wondered what was upsetting him the most. Did he truly think I might be in danger? Or was he simply worried that spending more time with the Moroi would turn my loyalties even more? “How many of them are coming?”

“They’re sending a dhampir,” said Michaelson. “One of their guardians, which I really don’t have a problem with. The location we’ve chosen should be Strigoi free, but if it’s not, better they fight those monsters than us.” The guardians were specially trained dhampirs who served as bodyguards.

“There you are,” Horowitz told me, stepping back. “You can sit up.”

I obeyed and resisted the urge to touch my cheek. The only thing I felt from his work was the needle’s sting, but I knew powerful magic was working its way through me, magic that would give me a superhuman immune system and prevent me from speaking about vampire affairs to ordinary humans. I tried not to think about the other part, about where that magic came from. The tattoos were a necessary evil.

The others were still standing, not paying attention to me—well, except for Zoe. She still looked confused and afraid and kept glancing anxiously my way.

“There also may be another Moroi coming along,” continued Stanton. “Honestly, I’m not sure why, but they were very insistent he be with Mastrano. We told them the fewer of them we had to hide, the better, but . . . well, they seemed to think it was necessary and said they’d make arrangements for him there. I think he’s some Ivashkov. Irrelevant.”

“Where is there?” asked my father. “Where do you want to send her?”

Excellent question. I’d been wondering the same thing. My first full-time job with the Alchemists had sent me halfway around the world, to Russia. If the Alchemists were intent on hiding Jill, there was no telling what remote location they’d send her to. For a moment, I dared to hope we might end up in my dream city: Rome. Legendary works of art and Italian food seemed like a good way to offset paperwork and vampires.

“Palm Springs,” said Barnes.

“Palm Springs?” I echoed. That was not what I’d been expecting. When I thought of Palm Springs, I thought of movie stars and golf courses. Not exactly a Roman holiday, but not the Arctic either.

A small, wry smile tugged at Stanton’s lips. “It’s in the desert and receives a lot of sunlight. Completely undesirable for Strigoi.”

“Wouldn’t it be undesirable for Moroi too?” I asked, thinking ahead. Moroi didn’t incinerate in the sun like Strigoi, but excessive exposure to it still made Moroi weak and sick.

“Well, yes,” admitted Stanton. “But a little discomfort is worth the safety it provides. So long as the Moroi spend most of their time inside, it won’t be a problem. Plus, it’ll discourage other Moroi from coming and—”

The sound of a car door opening and slamming outside the window caught everyone’s attention. “Ah,” said Michaelson. “There are the others. I’ll let them in.”

He slipped out of the study and presumably headed toward the front door to admit whoever had arrived. Moments later, I heard a new voice speaking as Michaelson returned to us.

“Well, Dad couldn’t make it, so he just sent me,” the new voice was saying.

The study door opened, and my heart stopped.

No, I thought. Anyone but him.

“Jared,” said the newcomer, catching sight of my father. “Great to see you again.”

My father, who had barely spared me a glance all night, actually smiled. “Keith! I’d been wondering how you’ve been.” The two of them shook hands, and a wave of disgust rolled through me.

“This is Keith Darnell,” said Michaelson, introducing him to the others.

“Tom Darnell’s son?” asked Barnes, impressed. Tom Darnell was a legendary leader among the Alchemists.

“The same,” said Keith cheerfully. He was about five years older than me, with blond hair a shade lighter than mine. I knew a lot of girls thought he was attractive. Me? I found him vile. He was pretty much the last person I’d expected to see here.

“And I believe you know the Sage sisters,” added Michaelson.

Keith turned his blue eyes first to Zoe, eyes that were just fractionally different from each other in color. One eye, made of glass, stared blankly ahead and didn’t move at all. The other one winked at her as his grin widened.

He can still wink, I thought furiously. That annoying, stupid, condescending wink! But then, why wouldn’t he? We’d all heard about the accident he’d had this year, an accident that had cost him an eye. He’d still survived with one good one, but somehow, in my mind, I’d thought the loss of an eye would stop that infuriating winking.

“Little Zoe! Look at you, all grown up,” he said fondly. I’m not a violent person, not by any means, but I suddenly wanted to hit him for looking at my sister that way.

She managed a smile for him, clearly relieved to see a familiar face here. When Keith turned toward me, however, all that charm and friendliness vanished. The feeling was mutual.