Bishop's Flight, page 9
They walked back out to the car, Miguel smirking at Carwyn. “So when she gets her archaeology degree, you going to come back and convince Cheryl to change the format of the club?”
“If you think there isn’t a market for beautiful women lecturing men, you clearly haven’t spent much time on the internet. Then again, I could be biased, coming from Great Britain.”
Miguel shook his head. “I do not understand you, but hey, at least we got a name.”
“Indeed.”
Miguel got behind the wheel of the car. “Where to?”
“We need to find out where Gary Preston lives,” Carwyn said. “I’ll call Lee.”
The phone rang and Lee picked up. “I’m here. What do you need?”
“Gary Preston.”
“Uh…?”
“Gary Preston is the name of the man Alina was trying to seduce at the car show. Summit Mountain Development. Can you see what information there is about him online?”
“You’ve given me more than enough. What do you want?”
“Address, financials. Any ties to Russia in particular. Clients maybe. Oleg owns a house here, why not Zasha?”
“Address shouldn’t take long.” Lee was already tapping keys. “Brigid came in and went out again. She looked stormy.”
Uh-oh. “Thanks, Lee.”
“No problem. I’ll text you when I get an address. Should be only a few minutes.”
He hung up the phone and called his wife. “Hello, my darling wife, this is your husband.”
“Carwyn.” She let out a sigh. “Alina Oorzhak is dead.”
Damn. Not that it was a total surprise, but it was still a blow. “The meeting with the Russian?”
“He ordered it. She’d been drugging one of their guards and it sounded like it wasn’t the first time. That one is ruthless when it comes to Zasha.”
“No love lost?”
“Oleg doesn’t want a hint of Zasha’s volatility rubbing off on his operation, that’s my read.” She took a breath. “Where are you?”
“At the Pink Daiquiri. The drinks are amazing!”
He could hear her smile through the phone. “Are they? Just the drinks then?”
“We spoke to Savannah, and she gave us a name. Lovely girl. She’d like to study archaeology.”
“Fascinating.” It sounded like Brigid was in the middle of something. “What’s the name?”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m maybe meeting Mika Arakas for a drink.”
“Mika Arakas? The most lethal Estonian vampire in history?”
“Is that a difficult title for Estonian vampires to achieve though? I always thought of Estonians as being fairly chilled. Great musicians. Not particularly bloody.”
“Mika Arakas is an assassin, Brigid.”
“And I’m a fire vampire, mo ghrá. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you going behind Oleg’s back?”
“Not… exactly.”
“Brigid.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “What are you doing?”
“Three nights, Carwyn.”
It hit him again.
Three nights. Two days. Lucas O’Hara’s life hung in the balance, and Brigid was being aggressive. He couldn’t blame her.
“Be careful,” he said. “Call me when you can.”
Twelve
Brigid didn’t meet Mika at the cowboy bar but at the quieter establishment that Gavin owned on the top floor of a very fancy casino. She walked through the hushed lobby after getting off the private elevator and was immediately struck by the quiet scent of blood-wine and money.
Mika was already sitting at a table with a woman wearing a low-cut black dress and a ruby necklace around her neck.
Brigid glanced around and saw other demure donors wearing ruby-encrusted jewelry and assumed they were the paid donors. This was a drinking club, but it also had the air of the social club that Murphy ran in Dublin. There were bookcases and low tables, small clutches of men and women speaking in hushed voices. It was the exact opposite of the cowboy bar Carwyn had told her about.
Brigid kind of wished Mika had picked the cowboy bar. People with money made her itch.
A hostess approached her. She wasn’t wearing a ruby necklace, but she was human. “Miss Connor, welcome to the Enclave.”
“Thank you. I’m meeting—”
“Mr. Arakas is already waiting for you. He asked for a table by a window. We employ sound-dampening technology to ensure the privacy of all our guests. Is that acceptable to you?”
“It is, thank you.” Many of Gavin’s clubs were the only places that vampires could safely and securely conduct business. They were tiny oases of neutrality, and there was good reason vampires paid the hefty dues needed to belong to them.
Brigid had never paid Gavin money, but she’d been added as an elite member after a favor years ago, and she didn’t take the gesture for granted.
Mika spotted her as she approached, leaned over to the donor, and whispered in her ear. The woman left the table with a smile and a satin clutch that was probably thicker than when she arrived.
As she passed, Brigid caught her lush scent and her fangs began to ache. She looked around the club, knowing that it would be a good idea to feed here before she continued in her mission. Gavin’s clubs were always safe places to hire a blood donor even if they were expensive.
He gestured to the chair across from him. “I ordered a bottle of blood-wine. Portuguese. Thank you for meeting with me.”
“Thanks to you as well. I appreciate your discretion.” She sat down and examined the assassin across from her.
Mika Arakas was the kind of vampire who fit into the role of an assassin perfectly. He was tall—nearly unavoidable for an Estonian—with brown hair and blue eyes. He was handsome in a low-key way with even features and the ability to blend in to nearly any crowd, save for his height.
“I know about the boy.” Mika’s expression was blank. “So does Oleg. We didn’t want to bring it up in front of Bernard because my employer wants to avoid the impression that he is searching for power or supports Zasha’s attempts. Las Vegas is run well and discreetly under Agnes Wong and Rose Di Marco. A power shift serves no one’s interests.”
“Except Zasha’s.”
“Does it?” Mika’s expression remained blank. “Has anyone asked themselves what the motivation for this is? Zasha has money, and frankly, they don’t value it. It’s not interesting to them.”
“Power then.”
“Las Vegas is not a seat of power, and that kind of power isn’t the kind they crave. Fear. Intimidation. Zasha thrives on being the ghoul in the darkness not the emperor on the throne.”
Brigid sat back as the server came to the table, uncorked the blood-wine, and poured two glasses. Mika reached for the goblet, tasted it, and gave the server a curt nod. The man left the table, but Mika still didn’t speak.
“Me then.”
Mika cocked his head.
“Zasha has fixated on me. They sought me out in New Orleans. They seemed… interested. I don’t know why.”
“That is not implausible. You’re a young fire vampire, and your power is similar to theirs.”
“How’d you know about my power?”
“It’s my job to know those things.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Don’t you know who I work for?”
“I’ve zero quarrel with Oleg. He’s clearly older, more powerful, and more influential than me. I’m just trying to live my life, and Zasha Sokholov keeps poppin’ in to fuck things up.”
“You’re a do-gooder, you and your husband, the priest.” Mika looked amused. “Zasha would find that amusing.”
“Why?”
“Because they believe as the old ones did.” He spread his arms. “We are the gods of this world. Why not act like it?”
“Do you believe that?”
“I don’t believe in anything. I do what Oleg tells me to do.”
“Is he your sire?”
“None of your business.” Mika smirked. “I enjoy your boldness. I don’t think you’ve ever been truly afraid, have you? Sired into a powerful and respected clan. Not even your own dangerous element will touch you. It protects you, Brigid Connor.” He sipped his wine again. “You don’t understand fear as we do.”
In the center of her stomach, Brigid remembered nights of terror in her childhood bedroom, waiting for the light to shine through the crack of the door. She remembered cold, sick dread; it was bitter on her tongue.
“You mistake my boldness for courage. I was born into fear, Mika. There’s a reason fire claimed me.”
The man’s perceptive eyes locked with hers. After a few silent moments, he nodded. “That is it then. That is why Zasha is fascinated with you. I imagine they see your fear, and yet somehow you have not allowed hate to consume you.”
“Do you know where Lucas is?”
“No.” Mika shook his head. “I wish I did, because I dearly wish someone would defeat Zasha in their sick little games. They irritate me.”
“So they do see it as a game?”
“Everything is a game to them.” Mika looked around the room and leaned in. “I’ve told you that Zasha doesn’t care about money.”
“I believe that.”
“That does not mean others around them don’t.”
“Others?”
“Who benefits if Zasha takes over Las Vegas?”
“Zasha.”
Mika shook his head. “You’re missing it.”
“Who then?”
“The one who benefits from what Las Vegas has to offer.”
“The only one campaigning for power here is Zasha.”
“Openly? Correct.”
Brigid sat back. “There’s someone behind the scenes.”
“There is always someone behind the scenes. That is usually how our kind works. But Oleg doesn’t particularly want these people in power either.”
“If your boss has something to tell me, I’d appreciate him being more direct.”
“Direct isn’t his way except when it comes to violence.”
Brigid sat and waited. Mika clearly wanted to tell her something, so she could be patient. She wasn’t going to guess at answers like an eager schoolgirl when the man called for the meeting and clearly had an agenda.
Mika threw back his blood-wine and set down the glass. “Sometimes we overlook an answer because it is too obvious. Because it’s been the answer before.”
Who had they battled before? Who had known ties to Zasha Sokholov?
“The Ankers?” She shook her head. “The Ankers don’t trade in power; they deal in information. Their money comes from…” She blinked.
“Ah.” Mika smiled. “You see now.”
Brigid looked around at the hostess and the servers. They carried discreet card readers, tiny computers in their pockets.
The casinos had it all. Names, addresses, players’ club information, credit card numbers, gambling habits, travel plans, everything.
Las Vegas wasn’t just Sin City—it was a data gold mine.
“Zasha as the reluctant emperor,” she muttered. “Reigning over a city of chaos.”
“We both know they enjoy chaos. What do the computer people say?” Mika smiled. “Chaos is a feature, not a bug.”
“With the Ankers holding the keys to the treasury.”
Mika stood. “Zasha would never share power, but that’s fine with the Ankers. They don’t want to share power—they want to steal information.”
It made sense. They had thwarted the Ankers’ attempts to plant a data scraper in Gavin’s new software devices, but in Las Vegas, not only vampire data but human data would flow like water from a spring.
“I don’t know how this helps me find the boy.”
“Sadly, I suspect it won’t. If I had information to find him, I would give it to you. But know this—Zasha and the Ankers don’t have the power to take over Las Vegas on their own; the vampires here are too loyal. Agnes and Rose would have to hand it over. And would handing over control of an entire city to a criminal enterprise such as the Ankers be worth it to save a single human life?”
Brigid wasn’t going to answer that question.
Mika looked at her, shrugged, and poured another glass of blood-wine. “I suppose that is not your decision to make. I wish you luck with your search, Brigid Connor.” Mika looked over his glass. “I would feed before you leave. Your eyes are hungry and your blood is young.”
Brigid waited for Agnes in her office after asking Bernard to summon her. She was flush with fresh blood and feeling fidgety. She wanted to be out searching the streets for Lucas, but she knew that was useless. She needed to wait on Carwyn for their current lead to pan out. She also needed to update Agnes and Rose.
She sat in front of the chess game set up on the coffee table, examining the pieces.
Whoever was playing was in the middle of a game. Pieces were in motion across the board, and several pieces were lined up on the side, having been taken out of play.
“He captured my queen.”
Brigid turned to see Agnes standing in the doorway. “That’s the most powerful piece on the board, right?”
“Undoubtedly yes.” She came and sat across from Brigid, picking up the glossy black chess piece topped with a crown. “But taking the king is the only move that wins.”
“I remember that part.”
Agnes stared at the board. “He’s a very gifted chess player.”
“Was he good at other games?”
“Any games of strategy. Any games that depended on wit more than luck.”
“You taught him that.”
“Some people call the children our pets.” Agnes leaned back against the couch. “I hear them. I ignore them. It’s better that they don’t realize how much Rose loves them.”
And you. Brigid didn’t need to say it aloud. “How is she?”
“I’m forcing her to spend as much time with Anna as possible. The girl keeps her steady.” Agnes set down the chess piece. “What have you come here to tell me? Why aren’t you out looking for Lucas?”
“Are you familiar with the Ankers?”
“The Dutch Ankers?”
“Yes.”
Rose frowned. “They died. The brothers died years ago.”
“They died, but their children lived.”
“What does that have to do with Lucas?”
“Maybe nothing, but I believe that Zasha targeted you in cooperation with Otto Anker. The power and influence…” She grimaced. “That’s not really the kind of motivation that Zasha craves. They prefer being feared but remaining in the shadows. Have any of the Ankers visited Las Vegas recently?”
“Not that I know of, but you’ll have to ask Bernard. Look into aliases, look at face recognition, that sort of thing. If you have pictures, I’ll set our team on it.”
“I’ll get pictures. And speaking of pictures…?”
Agnes handed over another envelope. Brigid opened it to find a single picture of Lucas looking much the same. Again, he was staring right at the camera, holding a newspaper from that day.
Brigid looked for any clues in the picture, but she was still disappointed. The walls were stark white. The floor was black. Lucas was sitting in a chair with no unique features.
They had to lead to something. “How are these being delivered?”
Agnes said, “They’re dropped off in different places; then we get a call to go and fetch them. Parks. A bus station. None of the places have video surveillance. Bernard already checked.”
“Give me the locations anyway. Lee might be able to find doorbell cameras or traffic cameras or some kind of surveillance that give us a face. It’s a long shot, but we can try.”
Agnes nodded.
“Carwyn got another name tonight. Gary Preston. Does that sound familiar? He was a man that Alina—the girl Lucas knew as Angel—was cozying up to at the car conference weekend before last.”
Agnes shook her head. “Not familiar to me, but I’ll have Bernard search the casino records.”
“How about Summit Mountain Development? That was Preston’s company.”
Agnes frowned. “That does sound familiar.”
She touched the intercom and a voice came back. “Yes, Miss Wong?”
“Call Bernard to my office.”
“Yes, Miss Wong.”
A few minutes later, Bernard entered the room. “Agnes, has there been—?”
“Gary Preston was a man connected to the girl who tricked Lucas into leaving his guards to meet her. He was the owner of Summit Mountain Development.”
“They put a bid in for the planned community,” Bernard said immediately. “They didn’t place the winning bid, but it was in the top four.”
“That’s right.” Agnes looked at Brigid. “Rose and I are building a planned community via a private LLC. It will be tightly controlled and cater to vampires and their people. Elemental considerations taken into account, of course. Summit put in a bid for the project. They had experience with the Lake Las Vegas development.”
The lake where Oleg had his house. “Does Preston have property in Lake Las Vegas?”
“I have no idea, but I’m sure we can find an address.”
“Our man is already working on it,” Brigid said. “I imagine we’ll have an address soon. Carwyn and Miguel are waiting for it.”
“Good.” Agnes rose and started to pace. “Bernard, leave.”
“Yes, Miss Wong.”
The man left the room and closed the door behind him.
“Tell me what your best guess is,” Agnes said. “Are you going to be able to find Lucas?”
It was an impossible question. “We’ve made good progress so far, but there are no guarantees.”
She continued pacing. “At what point do we evacuate our people and give this vampire the city?”
“I wouldn’t advise doing that. The minute you hand over the city, they’ve no reason to keep Lucas alive.”
“They say they’ll return him if we leave.”
“And you believe them?”
Agnes sank onto the couch and closed her eyes. “I never should have allowed Rose to get attached. We should have hidden them better. We’ve put the children in danger.”
