Dark Descendant

TEN

I sat in the hotel lobby for a good half hour after Konstantin and Alexis left, trying to pull myself together and think clearly. I didn’t have much luck.

What was I going to do now? I couldn’t let Alexis hurt Steph. And yet I couldn’t live with myself if I tracked down the people on Konstantin’s list and thereby got them killed.

Of course, it was still possible Anderson had been lying. Maybe the people on Konstantin’s list were all bad guys, fugitives from justice, just as he had described them. I didn’t actually believe it—the threats he’d made against Steph told me all I needed to know about the strength of his moral fiber—but I clung to the unlikely possibility.

I finally managed to get myself moving again. I collected my spy camera from under the chair, then left the Sofitel, keeping a careful eye out for any sign that I was being followed. I was pretty sure Konstantin was convinced he had me over a barrel and therefore wouldn’t waste his time having me tailed, but you never can be too sure.

I took a very long and roundabout route back to my hotel, then retreated to my room to do a little research. I couldn’t see complying with Konstantin’s demands—surely I would find some other way out of this mess without endangering Steph—but I figured it couldn’t hurt to see what I could dig up on the people he was asking me to find.

He’d given me very little to go on. Just names, and dates and places of birth. Under normal circumstances, I would have refused to try to locate someone with so little information. I’m good, but I’m not that good. But these were not normal circumstances. And besides, everyone seemed to think I had some kind of supernatural hunting ability. I’d seen the evidence that I’d become a ridiculously good shot, but so far I had no idea how that could translate into finding someone. Maybe once I tried, I’d unlock a special ability I didn’t know I had.

I started with the first name on the list: Joseph Swift. Born March 15, 1955 in Madison, WI. At least that gave me a starting place for my search, although it was obvious Joseph Swift wasn’t in Madison anymore, or the Olympians could have found him easily without my help.

I didn’t need any fancy new supernatural abilities to find out some basic information about Swift, not when the local papers had a gruesome story to revel in.

Swift had lived a fairly ordinary life as a child. His parents were working class, but steadily employed. He was a straight A student, and a star of his high school football team. Colleges were recruiting him aggressively, and his future looked almost unbearably bright. Until the spring of his senior year in high school, that is.

Just a few days shy of his eighteenth birthday, there was what was described as a failed burglary attempt at Joseph Swift’s home. Several masked men broke into the house around midnight. According to Joseph, everyone in the household had gone to bed, and all the lights in the house were out. He, however, had been having trouble sleeping and had gone downstairs for a glass of water. He was in the kitchen drinking his water when he heard his father’s startled cry, and then his mother’s scream.

Joseph sprinted to his parents’ aid, having no idea what was happening. When he was halfway up the stairs, his eight-year-old sister came running out of her bedroom, pursued by one of the masked intruders. The girl was stabbed to death before Joseph’s eyes. When he saw two more masked men with bloody knives emerging from his parents’ room, Joseph ran for his life. He managed to escape, but his entire family had been slaughtered.

I read several newspaper accounts of the murders. Everyone seemed to think that the masked men were burglars, and that Joseph’s father had surprised them at their work. But the theory made little sense. The “burglars” sounded like a sophisticated crew, but the Swifts hardly seemed wealthy enough to attract them. Plus, what self-respecting professional burglars would break into a house when they knew there were four people inside? Far less risky to wait until the house was empty.

It was hard to see the murders as anything other than a premeditated slaughter of a family of Descendants perpetrated by the Olympians.

Joseph seemed to drop off the face of the Earth after the murders, which I supposed was why the Olympians wanted my help to find him. I tried locating other members of his extended family, thinking maybe he’d gone to live with them, but not only did I not find any sign of him, I found even more evidence that pointed to a purge. I couldn’t find evidence of a single surviving family member on his father’s side. There was one maternal aunt who survived until 1963, when she died of natural causes, and a couple of distant cousins—also on his mother’s side—who seemed to have lived—or still be living—long and ordinary lives. But the more I delved into his father’s family, the more unexplained deaths I discovered. Car accidents. House fires. Mysterious disappearances. Everything led me to the conclusion that Joseph’s divine blood had come through his father’s side, and that the Olympians had managed to eliminate them all one by one.

I never got around to doing any serious research on Swift’s current location, because I’d already learned everything I wanted to know. There was not a single doubt left in my mind: if I located Joseph Swift, he was a dead man. And if he had any children, they, too, would either die or be kidnapped and indoctrinated by the Olympians.

I couldn’t do it. Not even to save Steph. And as horrible as Konstantin’s threat had been, I knew my sister well enough to be certain she’d agree with my decision. I was just going to have to find some other way to protect her. Reluctant as I was to admit it, that meant I was going to need help. And there was only one person I could go to for said help.

Perhaps I was digging the hole deeper, both for myself and for Steph. Perhaps Anderson was just as cruel and ruthless as Konstantin. But there was only one way to find out.

It was almost five before I found the nerve to pick up the phone and call Anderson. I couldn’t help remembering all the hostility he and Blake and Jamaal had shown me on the other night, and the idea of placing myself at their mercy made me want to hide under the bed. But honestly, I could see no other option, aside from giving up my entire life and making myself disappear, which still wouldn’t guarantee Steph’s safety. It was possible that by calling Anderson, I was handing myself over to the enemy. It was also possible that I’d already soured any potential we’d ever had of working together. But I had to try.

My heart raced and my palms sweated as I waited for Anderson to answer. Was this my gut trying to warn me away? Or was it just a very natural fear reaction, after all I’d gone through in the past forty-eight hours? I couldn’t tell.

Anderson finally picked up the phone just when I thought sure my call was about to go to voice mail.

“Nikki,” he said by way of greeting. Guess he had caller ID. “What a pleasant surprise.” There was a dry humor to his voice, but no hint of irritation. I chose to take that as a good sign. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I’d debated how much to tell him about my current situation, but decided that full disclosure might be my best shot at getting the help I needed. “I met Konstantin today.”

He grunted softly. “My condolences.”

I surprised myself by smiling. “Yeah. I’m not a big fan.”

“Neither am I.”

“So I gathered.”

“Let me guess what he wanted: he’s asked you to use your unique abilities to find some people for him.”

Not that impressive a guess, considering he’d pretty much predicted it earlier. “There wasn’t really any asking involved.”

Anderson sighed. “No, of course not. Konstantin considers his desires to be everyone else’s commands. Is he still trying to court you, or has he begun making threats yet?”

“I wouldn’t even have met with him today if there hadn’t been a threat involved.” My heart constricted with fear for Steph. “He’s threatened to let Alexis … hurt my sister if I don’t do what he wants.”

Anderson hesitated a moment before answering. “I didn’t know you had a sister,” he said. “If she’s still alive, it’s only because Konstantin thinks he can use her to control you for the time being. He won’t allow another Descendant—even a Descendant of Artemis—to survive when he can harvest her immortality for one of his pets. He won’t destroy you as long as you’re useful, but your sister…”

“Steph and I aren’t related by blood,” I clarified. “I’m adopted.”

“Ah. Good. Otherwise, all your family members would be in danger.”

Yeah, I’d already figured that out. But if Konstantin was going to use Steph against me, I had no doubt that he’d be just as happy to threaten my adoptive parents if he thought that might make me more pliable. I could only thank my lucky stars that they were out of the country and out of his reach, at least for now.

“If I do what Konstantin wants, he’s going to kill anyone I track down for him. Right?”

“Yes. He always makes his purges of Descendant families as thorough as possible, but sometimes people slip through his fingers. I suspect he’s worked up detailed genealogies of all the families he’s ever identified and has extensive lists of people he’d like to locate.”

“He gave me a list of three.”

“Trust me, that’s not even the tip of the iceberg. He’d rather present you with a short list and try to lull you into a sense of complacency than let you know that once he’s got the leverage he needs, he’ll set you to tracking down hundreds of people for him to kill.”

I winced. “Hundreds?”

“At least. The Olympians have been around a long time. Konstantin has been their leader since the early fifteenth century.”

I felt momentarily dizzy at the concept. I was finally getting around to accepting that the Liberi were immortal, but it was still hard to absorb the idea that I’d talked to a man who’d been alive since before Columbus discovered America.

“He was bent on destroying Descendants even then, though of course it was a lot harder before the days of modern transportation and computerized records. But just think—if he missed a family member in one of those Descendant purges back in the fifteenth century, how many Descendants might that person have running around today?”

I saw his point. And I once again saw that I couldn’t do what Konstantin ordered, no matter what the risk. I blew out a frustrated breath. “Listen, I need your help.”

“Oh, do you now?” he responded, and there was no missing the calculation in his voice.

“You keep trying to convince me you’re one of the good guys,” I forged on. “If that’s the truth, then you won’t let Konstantin and Alexis hurt an innocent woman, right?”

He thought about that a long while before he answered. “I hate to sound like a mercenary. But I can’t forget you’re the woman who killed Emmitt and shot Blake. I’m not a hundred percent sure that you’re one of the good guys. I’m sure your sister is a lovely woman, and she doesn’t deserve whatever Konstantin has threatened. But why should I stick my neck out for her when you’ve been so terribly … disobliging?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” I swallowed the lump of anger that rose in my throat. He had a point, and I knew it. He wasn’t even fully convinced I hadn’t killed Emmitt on purpose, so there wasn’t any particular reason for him to feel kindly toward me. That didn’t mean I had to admit it.

“I’m sure that’s very clear-cut from where you’re standing, but from where I’m standing … not so much.”

“So that’s it? I didn’t fall at your feet and adore you after you threatened to torture me, and therefore to hell with me? And to hell with Steph? If that’s the way you feel, then why the hell have you called me about a billion times?”

“I didn’t say to hell with you,” Anderson responded quietly, his calm making me feel like a child throwing a tantrum. “I was explaining why I’m not going to help your sister unless you give me something in return.”

I guess it had been foolish of me to hope that Anderson would help me out of the goodness of his heart. It sucked that I wasn’t in a position to tell him where to shove it.

“What do you want?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“I want you to find someone for me as well, but I promise it’s not for nefarious purposes.”

Too bad I didn’t have a clue what Anderson’s promises were worth. But I also didn’t have a whole lot of options.

“Who?” I asked, trying not to sound as wary as I felt. “And why? And please don’t give me the runaround the way Konstantin did.”

“I won’t. But it’s rather a long story. Perhaps you should come to the house so we can talk in person. I’ll make dinner, and we can have a civilized conversation.”

“We can have a civilized conversation anywhere,” I countered, not at all anxious to set foot in the mansion again. The place didn’t exactly fill me with warm, fuzzy memories. “If you want to make it a dinner meeting, choose a restaurant.”

He hesitated a moment before answering. “If we come to an agreement and I am to protect your sister, then you will have to come live here. My … arrangement with Konstantin is that he will not harm those who live under my roof or the families of those who live under my roof. It’s not a perfect arrangement, and he wouldn’t hesitate to break it if he thought he could get away with it, but it would provide your sister a great deal of protection.”

As usual anytime I had a conversation with one of the Liberi, I had about a million questions. However, they were all drowned out by my outrage.

“You want me to come live with you?” I cried. “Are you crazy?”

“Perhaps so,” he said drily. “Offering you my protection won’t be my most popular decision ever, but this is my house, and my rules.

“At least come have dinner with me. I promise you’ll have safe passage, even if you and I can’t agree on a single thing.”

I shook my head, though of course he couldn’t see. “Why should I believe you won’t just shove me back in that basement jail of yours the minute I show my face?”

“You’re asking for my help. What good is that if you trust me so little?”

Reality check time. I couldn’t protect Steph on my own. Sure, I could warn her that my problem-client had threatened her, and she could hire some security. But I couldn’t warn her without having to give her an explanation of the threat. If I told her the truth, she’d never believe me. If I made up an explanation that left out all the supernatural stuff, she’d insist we call the police. And even if I thought of a way to overcome those obstacles, who was to say human security would be able to protect her? I had no idea what Konstantin and the rest of the Olympians were capable of.

But Anderson did.

“All right,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll come to the house. But you’d better guarantee you won’t let Blake or Jamaal near me. I catch sight of either one of them, and all bets are off. Got it?”

It was an empty threat, of course. We’d already established that I needed Anderson’s help, which left me very little bargaining power. But Anderson didn’t press the issue.

“I’ll make sure you don’t run into them,” he promised.

That didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. Anderson might be the leader of his people, but they hadn’t so far shown themselves to be the most obedient lot.

“Would seven o’clock work for you?” Anderson asked. “Or do you need more time?”

The sooner we got this over with, the better. “I’ll be there at seven.”

“I look forward to it.”

Too bad I didn’t share the sentiment.