Six
They walked through the gardens, the sound of snow and gravel crunching beneath their feet. She knew Clive was more than capable of walking without a sound, and if she worked at it she could too. But it was a waste of power, and she relished the humanity of that crunch with each step.
“No one else is out here. Well, apart from the guard over there keeping an eye on us. But he can’t hear. Or he won’t.” She shrugged.
“You’re so sure about that?”
“He’s one of Theo’s. Even if he heard everything, the only one he’d reveal it to would be The First. And let’s be honest, if I wasn’t supposed to know about it, he’d have come to you and told you to keep it quiet. Also? We both know you won’t tell me anything that would harm the Nation. So who are they?”
He sighed. “She’s three hundred.” He shrugged. “Not exceptionally old.”
The heavy silence of the things he didn’t say made it clear to Rowan that Victoriana’s maker most certainly was old. “Who was her maker?”
He paused again and she began to get annoyed. She knew he weighed all he knew and would tell her what he could, but she didn’t want to work so hard for it. He should tell her or not.
“Look, like I said, I can get this info on my own. Tell me or don’t, but I didn’t come out here to get naked with you in the snow or anything. If that was your cunning plan, you need to remember I don’t do the sex outside. It’s cold and there are bugs. And bark and grass and stuff.”
A strangled sound came from him and she smiled, satisfied that she’d ruffled his feathers.
“I could have had you just minutes ago in your room if that had been my design.” He straightened his lapels and she shrugged.
“But you didn’t. So?”
“Her maker was Italian. Roman to be more specific.”
“Hedging is so boring. It’s like something a decades-old Vamp does. I thought you were smoother than this, Scion. So let’s add it all up and move on. She’s not that old, but she’s coming at Theo openly so she’s powerful. She’s young so that means her maker had to be really old. And you say her maker was Roman. Meaning dead now but old then. Meaning she’s most likely old school given her origin. One of the humans are nothing but meat servants crowd, I’d wager.”
Most likely an enemy of Theo’s. As her maker was dead and Roman, it would imply a certain worldview. Also, killing a Vampire that old was a rare thing. She’d have remembered if she’d done it herself. She thought hard and seemed to recall some stories about...
“Holy shit. Her maker was Flavius.” She pushed away to pace, letting the sound of her steps soothe as she worked through the information. Flavius had been one of Theo’s compatriots for a thousand years until they’d had a falling-out and had settled in different sectors of Europe to avoid a battle that might tear the Vampires apart.
Eventually they’d come across one another again just two centuries before when Flavius had cut down one of Theo’s children. Another ancient. Theo had hunted him down to deliver a death sentence himself. Leaving the pieces of Flavius in the sun afterward.
So, Victoriana would have a hard-on for Theo because he killed her daddy.
Rowan turned back to face Clive, who looked very handsome in the moonlight, and she suddenly kicked herself for telling him she wasn’t gonna bang him in the snow.
Back to business. “And her cravat-wearing buddy?”
“Just what is wrong with a cravat? I’ll have you know—”
She rolled her eyes. “Really? This is going to turn into some butthurt, impassioned defense of the cravat? Focus , Clive. I’m sure back in the Dark Ages when you wore one it was stunning and appropriate and not douchey in any way. Now, can we get back to the subject, please?”
“Butthurt?”
“Google it later. So? Who is her little sidekick?”
Rowan knew he wanted to sniff and be all stiff and British, but he also knew she expected it and was amused