Chương 40: Chapter 39 - Conrad's Apology

The rest of that day got a little crazy. Darius knocked, then barged into my room without even waiting for me to call to him. Without a moment's consideration for my well-established sulk, he informed me that he was going back to Wayde's house, and I was damn well going with him. Since this was exactly the kind of thing I wanted to hear, I couldn't be mad about his intrusion. I almost had to run to keep up with the count's pace as we went down the hall. We passed Conrad on the great landing.

It looked like he wanted to say something, but we were down the stairs before he could. When I got in the SUV, I hurried to put on my seat belt before Darius peeled out. As we were driving down the winding roads that led to the highway, I made a mental note to ask Jacky for more details about the "couldn't die, but could be destroyed" thing, and how that fit in with car crashes and rolled vehicles.

"What are we going to do when we get there?" I asked.

"We're going to search for the object you were holding," Darius said.

"The stone cylinder. It's a device created by the Egyptian priests. Summer probably bought it with the scroll. That's why he was still looking around when you cornered him in the study—he was searching for the device. When Both told them the scroll was fake, Summer and Wayde must have assumed the device was fake as well."

"Is it?" In a bitter voice, the vampire said, "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Do you think we'll find it?"

"I think Olivia would have found it if it was still there, but we're going to check anyway." Using Big Jacky's patented, systematic search method, Miranda and I tore apart Wayde's entire house, while Darius made calls and asked questions. Drix said she'd never heard of or seen anything like the device. Frost said he'd seen it, but not recently. I waited to report to Darius while he was talking to Aubert.

"I understand that you can sense magic when you touch an object." Darius paused.

"Does that include dormant magic or waiting magic? …So you could sense a device?" Another pause.

"I see." I took a step into the room. Darius nodded to me, to acknowledge I was there. He said, "Thank you, Mr. Aubert. I'll call if I have any further questions." He hung up and turned to me.

"Well?"

"Nada. What did Aubert say?"

"He said he never touched it and he doesn't remember seeing it. The Torr only asked him to look for the scroll."

"What now?"

"Now we can assume we know what the murderers were after." Darius's face was clouded with frustration.

"But that's good, right?" I said.

"It would be better if we had it in our possession."

"Well, I mean, yeah, but—""Iset called me a half-hour ago. It takes at least three souls to make it work." When the shock released its choke hold on my vocal cords, I said, "How many people did they kill to create it?"

"They didn't say. I'm not sure I want to know." As we were driving home, the count told me he'd made an appointment to see Ashworth the next day. Until then, he'd be going over his notes, looking for any hint of the device buried in the details of the case. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"Don't you need sleep, Darius?" said the biggest hypocrite in the world.

"I'm usually nocturnal."

"Usually. Not recently."

"As a vampire, my stamina works differently. I can build up a sleep debt without losing functionality. I make up for it by sleeping longer a few days later."

"Geez. Where can I sign up for that superpower?"

"That would require you to sleep at some point."

"Trust me, Count Vasil, it's on my to-do list." A sudden silence descended. As I mentally reviewed my weak joke, trying to figure out if I'd said something wrong, Darius said, "Thank you for helping us."

"Yeah. Sure. I mean, for what little help I could give."

"You pointed us in the right direction." I wasn't a vampire; my sleep deprivation was affecting me. Otherwise, I never would have said anything except a socially acceptable "You're welcome." I said, "You would have started looking for the device as soon as Iset finished translating the scroll."

"But we wouldn't have known for certain that it was there. We also know we're looking for two murderers, not one." This time, I managed to keep my mouth shut, but my traitorous brain pointed out that Special Agent Darius Vasil probably would have found one of the murderers, and that would have led to the other. Really, I wasn't going to let me have anything. The count interrupted my brooding.

"Emerra, I know you're trying, and I know what it's costing you. You've put all your energy into this. And those nightmares—it isn't easy, and I won't let you pretend it is. You've taken your suffering and used it to help us catch a murderer. That's not nothing, and we're grateful. Thank you." My throat was suddenly too tight to answer, but I nodded. When we got home, we walked up the back lawn toward the house. The glow of the kitchen lights through the French doors reached out to welcome me.

My rumbling stomach reminded me that I'd missed lunch because I was hiding in my room. I tried to imagine what delicious thing Igor might have cooked up for dinner. A shadow detached itself from the wall and stepped into the light. I stopped. There was no mistaking that silhouette.

"Can I talk to you, Mera?" Conrad said. I felt a brief rush of air. When I turned to see what it was, the vampire was gone. Just gone. No poof! No dash lines or cloud of dust! Nothing but a notable absence. How polite of him to give us some privacy, I thought. Too bad I would have preferred some backup and any possible excuse to avoid this conversation.

"Sure," I said.

"What can I do for you?"

"I want to apologize." Lift both shoulders for the appearance of a careless shrug.

"What for?"

"I know I didn't tell Darius—""You didn't tell Darius." Nope. Your voice is slipping. I forced it back to the nonchalant setting.

"So you didn't break your promise."

"Bullshit." I felt the blood rise to my cheeks. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be relieved that I didn't want to make a big deal out of it and play along. Conrad stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets.

"You were furious." He added in a mumble, "And hurt." My nonchalance vanished as fast as the vampire.

"So what?" I snapped.

"You thought the nightmares might be important, so you told Jacky about them. You did it for a good reason. I get it. It was good that you did it. God knows, I'm dense enough, it probably wouldn't have occurred to me. So it's fine. Let's not worry about it."

"But you're still upset."

"I'll get over it." I tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of me.

"I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to do that. What kind of a stupid world would it be if you had to apologize for doing the right thing?" I stepped to his side. He put a hand out and caught my arm so I'd turn to look at him.

"Please, Emerra. I like it better when you're comfortable around me." I gazed at him—his sad eyes, his drooped ears—and I laughed.

"You have to stop," I said.

"I'm going to get in trouble." His ears flicked up. I explained, "You look like a puppy, Conrad. It makes me want to pat you on the head and tell you you're a good boy." He looked away. His ears twitched between upright and various levels of flatness. He looked annoyed. Or embarrassed. Maybe both.

"Well, I'm sorry," I said, "but you do."

"How can I make it up to you?"

"I told you not to worry about it." I meant it this time. That embarrassed expression had cheered me up a lot.

"There's got to be something," he said. Well, he was the dope who insisted.

"Let me pat your head," I said.

"What?"

"Let me pat your head. We'll call it even."" That's what you want?"

"Your fur's soft! It's not my fault you take it for granted." With his hands once more in his pockets, he bent at the waist until I could reach his head. I put my hand between his ears and pressed it into his coat. The fur tickled the sensitive skin between my fingers. I patted him a few times, ran my fingers toward the back of his neck once or twice, and finished by wiggling my hand back and forth to ruffle his ears.

"There," I said, grinning.

"Good wolf-boy." I was rewarded with another embarrassed expression. I hooked my arm in his and pulled him toward the kitchen.

"Tell me Igor has dinner ready."