Chapter 6 #2
Thaddeus smiled after a long moment. “Suffice to say, my tribal affiliation has been erased. Forgive me if I don’t expound further. All you need to know is that this…mutation…is something Vesper would very much like to capitalize on, and it’s crucial that she does not.”
Gideon frowned, trying to read between the lines. He assumed that whatever the vampire was alluding to equated to Vesper somehow gaining more power.
“Then why hasn’t she come here in force?” he asked, playing Devil’s advocate. Lord knew she wouldn’t hesitate if she thought the risk was worth the reward, federal jurisdiction and anything else be damned.
The vampire clucked his tongue. “Who’s to say she hasn’t?”
Gideon’s eyes flicked back to him, that shiver of caution traveling up his spine again.
Thaddeus laced his fingers over his abdomen.
“A very long time ago, we reached a détente. Not that she hasn’t seen fit to test it every so often.
” He smiled, and Gideon repressed a shudder.
“This lawsuit is nothing more than an evolution of tactics, and I’m embarrassed to admit that it falls into a rather large loophole in our original agreement. ”
“May I?” Gideon asked, reaching for the sherry.
“By all means. Delightful, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s exceptional, really.” He poured himself another glass and sat back. “But as interesting as this conversation has been, I fail to see why I should care about any of it.”
“No. Not yet. But you will.” The vampire’s eyes glittered as he pulled a folio from beside the chair and tossed it onto the table.
Gideon’s brow quirked. “Do you expect me to read that now?”
“Indulge me.”
Gideon sighed and leaned forward to pick the folio up. It wasn’t particularly thick, but he was tiring of the cloak-and-dagger byplay. He sat back and flipped it open, perusing the pages. Photocopied documents. Emails, surveillance photos.
His fingers tightened at a grainy shot of himself and Ophelia leaving the apartment they’d once shared. “What the hell am I looking at?”
“Mmm.” The vampire hummed, holding his glass up to the light. “You know, a great many things have changed for my kind since the Purge, with all of the government regulations. Our numbers are down. Donations falling off beneath the mountain of paperwork required—”
“Forgive me if I don’t give a shit,” Gideon growled.
“Fair enough,” Thaddeus grinned, “but were you aware that all of that oversight has necessitated in the tribes engaging in targeted recruitment campaigns?”
Gideon’s gaze fell back to the photo, his stomach roiling. He abruptly had a very bad feeling where this turn in the conversation was going. Gods, no…
“The bulk of volunteers are made up of those with limited options. Physical. Financial,” the vampire continued.
“However, that’s not how the tribes maintain their, ah, lifestyle, for lack of a better term.
To do that, they discreetly solicit and groom professionals to join their ranks.
Their mandatory tithes fund the tribe’s expenses, and/or they fill a need; a friendly ear in government, lenient law enforcement, or say, legal representation.
The promise of immortality can be quite tempting to those in high-powered positions.
More so when the individual feels they have no other recourse. ”
Gideon wet his lips, a lump in his throat. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”
“Oh, it’s not insinuation.” The vampire chuckled.
“It’s a fact. As is that once an individual is marked for indoctrination, they become the target of an elaborate grooming program playing into their fears.
” Thaddeus picked up his glass, rolling the sherry to examine its legs in the firelight.
“I’m very sorry to inform you that Ms. Diamondé fell prey to their tactics. ”
“That’s preposterous, Ophelia would never…” Gideon trailed off, his hand shaking as he turned the page. But wouldn’t she? A closeup of her stared back at him. That last argument they’d had… She’d always been so insecure about her mortality.
… “I can’t, Deo! The thought of growing old while you—no. I won’t do it!”…
He ran a hand over his face. Is that where she’d gone? What had happened? That ruse of a conference, her engagement ring left at the side of the sink. He’d been so sure she’d abandoned him.
Dear Gods, what if he’d been wrong?
“Is it?” Thaddeus asked softly. “Despite my imbroglio with Vesper, I have associates at the Citadel. As you can see from Ophelia’s recruitment file, they’d been grooming her for quite sometime before she capitulated.”
Gideon paled. And he’d left her in their clutches.
No. He threw the folder back onto the table, trying to convince himself it was impossible.
Goddamn it, he couldn’t. Whether he trusted Thaddeus or not was irrelevant.
As much as he hated to admit it, this was exactly the kind of reckless move Ophelia would’ve made, and with all of the surveillance photos, the details of their lives, her signature on the volunteer’s application, for Christ’s sake!
His stomach dropped. Vesper knew. That pause. The line going dead. She knew what Ophelia had meant to him and had known when to strike him—them both—at their weakest to further the Court’s machinations.
And recruited or no, they’d both signed on willingly, but why hadn’t Ophelia returned? Thaddeus had just said that was how the tribes were funded, and she’d been making money hand over fist as a litigator.
“Then why isn’t she prosecuting this case?” he growled. “Why defend Havers?”
“I’m afraid that part of the story isn’t mine to tell,” Thaddeus said, his gaze intent on something past Gideon’s shoulder. “But someone’s here who can.”