Bound by Flames
Page 9My hopes began to lift. Maybe, Vlad was closer to learning how to compromise than I realized. This was practically him completing Step Two, in fact.
But still . . . “How will Maximus find Szilagyi? We sure haven’t been able to. Plus, even if he does, why would Szilagyi let Maximus close enough to learn anything useful, even if he doesn’t suspect him of being a traitor?”
“All my enemies are rooting for Szilagyi,” Vlad said shortly. “There will be plenty of people for Maximus to express his interest to, and one of them will relay it to Szilagyi. Since he recently lost his two best spies, he’ll be keen to recruit someone who knows my operations as well as Maximus.”
Okay, true, but that left the other thing no one seemed to want to talk about. “If he gets caught, Szilagyi will kill him.”
Vlad glanced at the ruined structure around us. “And how tragic it would be for Maximus to leave all this behind.”
“This isn’t all I have,” Maximus said, his expression changing from shock to defensiveness.
“Yes, but you aren’t touching the rest of it, are you?” was Vlad’s instant response. “Instead, you’re punishing yourself by staying in the same pile of rocks you went off to war to avoid when you were human. I’m offering you a better way to atone for your betrayal.”
“Why?” The word was so soft, I almost didn’t hear it. “You could find another way to defeat Szilagyi. Why are you really offering me this?”
Vlad said nothing for a long moment. At last, he shrugged. “Because of my promise to Leila, I can’t kill you, so I may as well get some use out of you being alive.”
“Now I believe your offer is real.”
“And are you accepting it?” Vlad asked, his emerald-ringed gaze never leaving his former friend’s.
Maximus let that twitch slide into a smile that looked anticipatory and relieved at the same time.
“Oh, yes.”
Chapter 5
Gretchen slid her plate away with a groan. “For creatures that only drink blood, your people can cook,” she told Vlad. “It’s their fault I’ve gained five pounds since I’ve been here.”
“Nine,” he replied blandly.
Gretchen’s eyes narrowed. “Mind reader,” she muttered.
“Right. That’s how I knew.”
“How’s Dad?” I asked to change the subject.
My sister gave a final glower at Vlad before she answered. “His knee’s been bothering him, but he refuses to let anyone look at it. Says he’ll wait until we’re home and he can see a living doctor, which is stupid, right?”
She raised her voice until she was yelling the last few words. I winced, both at the assault on my supernaturally sensitive hearing and the reason behind it. Gretchen had run out to see us when we arrived at the lovely Tuscan house Vlad had hidden them in, but my father stayed in his room. He didn’t join us for dinner, either, yet he was listening. Gretchen didn’t need super senses to know that and neither did I.
Vlad caught my gaze, his brow rising. I shook my head. No, I didn’t want him to forcibly heal my father’s knee, just like I refused to use my new mesmerizing powers to make him forget how much he hated my turning into a vampire. Hugh Dalton would have to come to terms with that on his own. If that meant we didn’t speak for a while . . . well. It wouldn’t be the first time my father and I had been estranged.
“How much longer do we have to hide out here?” Gretchen asked, giving up on my dad coming out and answering her taunt. “This place is better than Romania, but one day, I’d like to quit playing hide-and-seek and get on with my life.”
I winced hearing her give voice to my guilt over their circumstances. “I know, and I’m sorry. We’re working on it.”
She blew out a sigh and then gave Vlad a speculative look. “It’s Szilagyi, isn’t it? He’s not dead after all.”
She huffed. “You’re Dracula, so everyone knows your enemies don’t live long, but my dad and I are still locked up, so whoever’s yanking your chain must be the king of badasses. The only person I know who fits that description is the same old vampire you couldn’t kill before.”
Vlad’s nostrils flared while I stared at my sister in disbelief. First calling him Dracula, then bringing up Szilagyi successfully faking his death twice? The nine pounds Gretchen had gained must’ve come from her new brass balls.
“You are correct,” Vlad said, the words barely a hiss. “That is why staying hidden is your only hope. If I’ve had trouble killing Szilagyi, what do you think your survival chances are without my protection?”
“Zero,” she said with a sigh. Then her mouth quirked as she looked at me. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re already dead, sis. Harder to kill you a second time, right?”
“Right,” I said, my voice catching as Vlad’s feelings briefly crashed through his shields, searing my subconscious with echoes of rage and a darker, stronger emotion. To say he didn’t like remembering how I’d died was an understatement. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">