Vampire's Kiss (The Watchers #2)

“That is good, querida. Because it is in secrecy that we will be traveling.”

I shivered, wondering if I’d wear a mysterious traveling cloak, or carry an attaché. “When do we leave?”

“One week. We shall travel by boat.”

I got goose bumps. This was it—our moment was approaching. I’d go on a mission, real good-against-evil stuff. I’d be tested; I’d show myself worthy.

And then I’d make my getaway. Sweet freedom would be mine. I bet I could get any job I wanted once I escaped—I could join the CIA, or be a celebrity’s bodyguard.

But then I remembered the whole waitressing thing. “You said I’ll need to wait tables?”

“You will be in disguise, mijita. These vampires we infiltrate—the leaders call themselves the Synod of Seven—are a force of evil. They have captured one of our own, whom they would keep locked away for eternity. He is somewhere on their island, and they are starving him, endlessly torturing him for information they think he can provide.”

“Who is he?” I whispered, enthralled.

“A vampire by the name of Carden McCloud, from eighteenth-century Scotland.”

I heard myself gasp and shut my trap. I was being entrusted to help find an ancient vampire. Me. Annelise Drew.

The name was familiar, and then I remembered that Ronan had mentioned an elder named McCloud, who’d hailed from the island. I tucked that fact away, images of a kilted, fanged version of Sean Connery flashing in my head.

But one thing stuck in my craw. “If he’s Scottish, why did I need to brush up on German?”

“The Synod of Seven members still speak the language of the ancient monastery in which they reside.”

I had a nerdy aha moment. “Back in the Middle Ages, Christian missionaries settled on small islands throughout the North Sea. The monks all spoke Old High German—all their books, all their prayers, everything was in that dialect.”

“Exactly.”

Although I loved being right, the notion gave me kind of a hinky feeling. “So…they’re priests?”

“No,” he said firmly. “They are vampires. But they are not like those of us on Eyja næturinnar. These are monsters, representing everything we are against. Of this I have no doubt.”

I rubbed my hands together, my fingertips gone numb. I thought of the monsters I already knew, my battered body, the casual evisceration, the sick competitions that turned teenaged girls into gladiators. There were vampires more evil than that?

I still didn’t understand what my role would be. I mean, surely Alcántara spoke a dozen ancient dialects. Why bring along a seventeen-year-old who’d only (almost) graduated high school? They trained me hard; they’d taught me how to fight and how to kill. Was it in preparation for this moment? I asked gravely, “Will I have to kill anybody?”

He looked amused by the question. “No, querida. You couldn’t kill one of them if you tried. If they discover your intentions, you won’t emerge alive. Our goal is only to retrieve Carden McCloud. His well-being is our only concern.”

Meaning: While my fate was iffy at best, as long as Carden lived, it was all good.

“Why is this Carden so important?”

“They were a ragged bunch, those old Scottish soldiers, but Master McCloud is one of our own, and we stand by our people.”

“So we’re going to figure out where they’re holding him hostage?”

“You will figure it out. I cannot risk sending in my men, and yet we must confirm that he still lives, and where they keep him.”

My initial reaction was, But he can risk a girl? Then the first half of his statement registered, and my resentments faded to the background. I sat up straighter, feeling electrified, energized. “I’ll figure out where he’s being held? By myself?”

I was discovering a whole aspect to life on this island I’d never suspected. It was so much more than a high school from hell where cheerleaders were killers and the stoners were sociopaths. I was training to be a force for good. Soon I’d leave here and could use my knowledge in the real world—maybe be a Secret Service agent, or move to Geneva and work for Interpol…whatever that was.

His eyes glinted, seeing my excitement. “Yes, querida, working alone, you will determine his location. But then I have others who will join you, and with them, you will do more than just find him.”

“We’ll rescue him?”

He nodded. “Together, you and I will sail him to freedom. Are you ready?”

All this we…us…together stuff—it made me feel close to Alcántara. And so, despite the intense topic of conversation, my posture, my tone, all of it was at ease. “I was born ready,” I told him with a smile on my face.

He laughed then, loud and rollicking. I guess he’d never heard that line, though how it’d escaped him through the centuries was beyond me.

And I couldn’t help it. I laughed, too, but then I thought, Oh my God, this is me, bonding with a vampire. Crazy.

I’d suspected Alcántara had helped me win last semester’s challenge, and now I knew why: I was clearly the best girl for this mission. I mean, what other Acari even knew what Old High German was? But now, the way he was looking at me and laughing with me, I thought of another possibility. Maybe he’d also helped me just because he liked me, plain and simple.

The notion made me comfortable enough to ask, “Where does the waitressing come in?”

“The Synod of Seven members have called a summit, summoning vampires from around the world.”

I cut him off, astounded. “Around the world?”

He tilted his head, looking amused. “Consider it, young one. Vampires only in the North Sea? Truly? We favor darker, colder climes. But why not Russia, or Finland, or Alaska? And so they are in such places, but they are coming here, to a ruined monastery on a private island so isolated, the only ones who give a care to its existence are vampires. These vampires bring with them armies of domestic servants. There will be an influx of butlers, maids, chefs, footmen, and so forth.”

I nodded, because that part didn’t surprise me at all. Vampires were old-school—they’d have a staff as mannered, uniformed, and extensive as any high-class estate of old. It all clicked—my role, our mission, the dancing, and the table manners—everything became clear. “And you’re going to sneak me on the island posed as a waitress.”

He gave a displeased wave of his hand. “Stop using such a crass term, mijita. Not waitress. Let us simply call you an…attendant.”

“I’m going undercover,” I said, marveling.

“Indeed. With all the comings and goings, security will be lax. I hope to arrive undetected, and from there I have a connection who will spirit you inside, clothe you, place you.”

Alcántara was relying on me. And I wouldn’t let him down. I knew I could do it. “Place me?” I asked, eager to hear more.

“You will play dumb, just another pretty serving girl. But all the while, you, querida, you will be the brightest star in the room.” He stroked my hair, and a shiver ran up my spine, leaving warmth in its wake. Never before had anyone been so confident of my potential, and it was an even greater rush than his tingling touch.

The more time we spent together, the more we talked, the less wary of him I felt, and for a split second, I was a girl and he was a guy, and I leaned my head into his hand. Perhaps a first kiss with a vampire wouldn’t be so bad after all. It’d be just the sort of daring fling a woman on a secret mission might enjoy.

I thought of Ronan, and of how we’d shared a few moments. But Ronan had always kept a cool distance, whereas Master Alcántara was flattering, demonstrative, appreciative. It was nice to feel wanted for once.

He stroked his hand down to cradle the side of my neck, and his fingers were cool on my nape. He gave the slightest squeeze. “You will serve their soup and pour their wine, all the while eavesdropping and seeking the clue that will lead us to Carden—if he still lives.”

“I can do it.” Confidence made my voice ring strong.

“I knew the moment I read your profile, querida. The moment I saw your photograph. I knew you were a gift.” He took my hand in both of his and began to stroke his thumb in my palm, making slow circles. “Brains, beauty, but such strength and humility, too. You are perfect for this.”

Ronan might’ve been acting cold and distant, but this hot Spanish vampire sure wasn’t. The reluctance I’d once felt in his presence faded, leaving only my fascination.

“I feel it, too.” It was such a thrill. I’d be James Bond and Lara Croft, all rolled into a five-foot-two-inch frame. My mind went to all sorts of clandestine, sexy-spy places. “It all sounds so exciting.”

“Temper your enthusiasm, Acarita. Where we are going, if you are discovered, you will know a fate worse than any you have ever imagined.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I was going undercover. Alcántara’s trust made me want to do my very best, and that week I prepared harder than ever. He wanted decorum, and not only did I pour myself into the class, I totally went Martha Stewart on Dagursson’s ass. Hell, I could’ve set a table blindfolded and with one arm tied behind my back if the need arose…though, from what Alcántara warned about these new, bad vamps, maybe craziness like that wasn’t out of the question.

Exactly seven days passed before we got in that boat. It was seven days of learning how to curtsy, to pour wine without spilling, and to slick my hair into a perfect bun.

I ran into Ronan just once all week, walking across the quad. “Annelise,” he’d said, “you must be careful.” His voice was intense, but the look he gave me was blank, almost sad. Did he think I was going off to my death, or did he just not like the idea that I was going off with Alcántara? Either way, Ronan was the one with the girlfriend—I didn’t know what he had to be sad about.

But then it struck me: If I was going to escape—and I had every intention of succeeding—this was good-bye. Forever. Never again would I see him.