Isidoro #3
He is still young at twenty-five, not fully into his power.
He cannot touch me, and even if he could, soon the ruby will be able to protect me.
The way he talks suggests he thinks he owns the world like his father did, but he will learn who its real king is, and fast. He will break, and when he does, I will be ready.
I stand and smooth out the cuffs of my shirt. My stomach clenches with satisfaction. He thrashes and swears at me, but I don’t grace that with a reply. I have his company. I own his freedom. His willpower is the only thing left.
I will crush it. A week, two at most. That’s all it will take. By the time the coronation comes around, he will be docile. He will be on his best behavior, and he will do as I say.
There’s no question about it.
I leave Julian in the interrogation room and head upstairs, already dialing P.I.
Jefferson. He’s one of the few people in New York who knows about the existence of vampires.
Given the sensitivity of Andras’ disappearance and the truth about our existence, I can’t exactly go through official channels.
Once we’ve agreed on a time and place to meet, I retreat to my bedroom for some rest. I get the call from Samuel that the Mexico mansion is ready a couple of hours later, but I don’t bother to see Julian off as he gets put on a plane and taken down south.
“What do you mean the trail ran cold?” I raise from my chair and click my decorative cane into the floor at Jefferson, who winces at me from the other side of his desk.
It’s been a week since he picked up Andras’ case, and despite the promising CCTV we’ve collected, he keeps running from one dead end to another. My raids on the remaining supporters of the old king haven’t yielded anything useful either.
“It’s just a bar he frequents. I questioned all the regulars, the owners, the staff. They don’t know anything.”
I don’t let my frustration show. Setbacks are part of life, how you deal with them is what matters. I can’t let every little thing derail me. “What about this other witness? What was her name?”
“Anna,” he jumps in, leafing through the pile of documents on his desk. When he locates her file, he holds it up and skim-reads through it. “I looked into her. There’s nothing. She’s just a blood donor.”
I tap my fingers against the cane’s handle. How hard can it be to track a man down? Especially someone as recognizable as the former king of vampires. “So, what, are you telling me we have nothing? We are back to square one?” I say, crossing my arms as I scan his office.
Certificates and books decorate his shelves, which are as messy as his desk. A single orchid sits on the windowsill as the only source of color in the gray and beige symphony that reigns over the cramped space.
Jefferson strokes his trimmed beard and purses his lips apologetically as he runs his hand through his hair. For a man in his fifties, he’s fortunate to have kept all of it on his head. “I’ll keep trying, Mr. Altamirano. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you,” I say curtly and leave his office before my irritation manifests into something physical.
This was supposed to be a walk in the park. Jefferson is one of the best investigators in the country. He can find anyone.
I walk out onto the sidewalk and take a deep breath. The leaves of the trees nearby rustle from a gentle breeze. The traffic buzzes around me.
Good luck. You’ll need it. When you fail, I’ll be waiting for you.
Julian’s smug face surfaces in my mind. I grip the door handle of my SUV a little too hard, ripping it off. Jesus. I stare at it, then exhale sharply through my nose.
Damn him.
He’ll see. This is nothing but a setback. A small bump in the road. Another couple of days and I’m sure the P.I. will be right on Andras’ tracks.
Tucking the door handle inside my long coat’s embroidered pocket, I circle the car to the passenger side’s door. Climbing in through it, I haul myself over the central console and get to the steering wheel.
Julian snorts at me inside my head.
I snarl. I shouldn’t let him get to me, he’s not even here. Closing my eyes, I let my thoughts wander to him for a couple of moments. I study his contrasting features, his muscled frame, the spark that lives inside his gaze, the way he wouldn’t bow to me, then I kill the budding irritation.
A call connects to the car’s system. It’s from Samuel, and I take it, my equilibrium already in place.
“Yes?”
“The Dreke Clan wants to meet. They’ve run into an issue with their latest shipment and need your assistance.”
Ah. I wonder what it is this time. A human stepping out of line? Someone trying to skim more than they should? No matter, I’ll deal with it either way.
“Set something up for tonight at the cargo warehouse by the docks. And tell them it will cost them a premium.”
“Understood. I’ll arrange it.”
I cut the call and merge with the traffic, hitting a red light at the intersection a block down. As I wait for the signal to turn green, I stare out my window at the pedestrians queuing in front of a popular bakery on the corner, the line reaching the bus stop.
No setbacks will stop me. This hiccup is only temporary, and I’ll find Andras soon enough. It’s only a matter of time.