Archangel's Prophecy (Guild Hunter #11)(61)

Andreas’s scary “record keeper” gave her what she needed without hesitation.

When she walked into the kitchen a couple of minutes later—a large and gracious space that boasted shining metal ovens and a huge obsidian slab of a central island—everyone froze, the room abruptly a painting devoid of breath.

Elena fought the urge to pull out her crossbow. Vampires could be seriously creepy when they did that no-movement thing.

“Consort.” The greeting came from a petite vampire who wore a white apron and had flour on her hands. “What may we do for you?”

“I was hoping to talk to members of staff who know Harrison Ling.”

A sigh seemed to ripple through the room, the others within it spinning back into motion now that they knew she brought no dangerous tidings.

The vampire who’d spoken—she had to be the head cook—said, “Most of the young ones have gone out into the gardens to clear the snow.” She waved over the taller woman who’d been working beside her when Elena first came in. “Iris supervised Harrison for a time.”

“Only the two months he was in the kitchen,” Iris said, a flush high on her cheekbones as she twisted a tea towel in her hands. “Not to speak ill of the wounded, but oh that man was terrible in the kitchen.” A flash of fangs as she grimaced. “I spent half my time overseeing him so he wouldn’t burn whatever it was he was meant to be watching.”

“Did you ever speak about anything that might’ve caused someone to hold a grudge against him? Even in passing?”

Iris shook her head. “He was too young and foolish for conversation. I simply tried to teach him some skills before Cook here finally abandoned the idea that he might be useful in the kitchen.”

“It was right when he first came to us,” the chief cook added. “I do always have hope, but so many of the young have no comprehension of good food and the skill of preparing a nutritious meal.”

“Yes.” Iris pursed her lips. “Fast food and store-bought rubbish.” A snort. “Then they become vampires and suddenly don’t see the point in cooking.”

The cook nodded darkly. “As if an art form has no value.”

Elena decided not to confess to her less-than-amazing skills in that area. “Thank you for the help. I’ll head out to the gardens to speak to the younger staff.”

Once outside, she asked the Legion if they’d seen anyone in the garden, and they pointed her toward the far west of the sprawling area. It took her ten minutes of brisk walking to find the three vampires, all in good spirits. Digging their shovels in, they were throwing the snow to the side in neat piles. Elena figured this couldn’t be a major part of their day. Andreas was too smart to lose people out of boredom.

As it was, the three seemed to be enjoying their task, their conversation peppered with laughter. The first one to see her spluttered to a stop in the middle of a sentence. “Elena!”

She halted, looked at him more carefully even as his coworkers paled. Sharply pointed face with bright brown eyes and pink-flushed white skin, a height just over five feet, a small dark brown goatee . . . and an ability with cards that had made a pauper out of her one long-ago January.

Smile cracking her face, she held out a hand. “Phineas. It’s good to see you.”

Phineas took off his glove, shook her hand with open enthusiasm. “I heard you became an angel. Thought me mates were having a good laugh at old Phineas’s expense at first.” Breaking their handclasp, he peered around at her wings. “Blimey.”

“You still fleecing innocent hunters out of their earnings?”

“I’m an honest man now,” he said with a grin that was as infectious now as it had been when they first met. “I even cheat honestly.”

Elena remembered why she’d liked Phineas, despite his cardsharp ways. “Introduce me to your friends.”

“These miscreants aren’t friends,” he said with a scowl. “They’re silly boys I’m breaking into the real world.” The younger vampires grinned despite the dark words. “Andreas would go mad if he had to deal with their idiocy.”

That explained what Phineas was doing here. He’d completed his hundred years of service decades ago.

“The one with the ridiculous fluff on his upper lip is Vernon, and the one who thinks purple is some kind of color for a shirt is Tepe. The youth of today.” A shake of his head. “What brings you to us, then?”

Phineas’s face fell at her explanation. “Sad business, that. Harrison’s a good man.”

One of the “silly boys” choked back something before bending to industriously shovel away at the snow again. “Too late, Tepe.” Elena kind of liked the purple shirt he’d paired with a thick black coat that boasted a gold zipper. “You may as well tell me.”

The younger vampire looked at Phineas and waited for his “Go on” before saying, “Look, Harry’s all right—I actually like him now, but back when I was newly Made, he’d been a vampire for . . . what? About a year?” A glance at Vernon, who nodded. “And honestly, he was a total asswipe.”

Vernon found his voice, his words coming out in a puff of white as his breath froze in the cold air, his bushy mustache—nothing flufflike about it—coated with shimmering flecks of frost. “Before he tried that dumb escape attempt, he thought he could get into Andreas’s good books by snitching on other vampires.”