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Brigit.  Just trust me.
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
My apartment on West 52nd was walking distance to the coffee shop, but with a bloodied vampire in
tow, driving made things a little less complicated. I was thankful the busiest hour for coffee lovers had
passed and the Starbucks was relatively vacant. When Brigit and I vanished in the doorway, Desmond was
left alone, but with so few patrons it was unlikely any of them noticed there had been two girls with him. I
felt bad leaving him there without any answers, but Brigit s docile state wouldn t last long. The hunger
would take her before the night was through. We were lucky Peyton had thought to feed her before sending
her after me, otherwise she wouldn t have made it to me. She would have gone after the first available
blood source instead and another innocent would have been dead.
Rather than finding ourselves in front of the cash counter at Starbucks, we were standing in the foyer
of a majestic house. House wasn t the right word to describe where Calliope lived. Mansion would have
been much closer to the truth, but even that didn t really fit. Her estate transcended the laws of physics
binding other homes to a fixed size. It had a limitless number of rooms that could expand and recede to
accommodate guests as necessary. Whether it was used to heal those who were injured or safeguard new
vampires too unstable to be among the public, Calliope s home was whatever it needed to be.
The foyer was larger than my entire apartment and probably larger than Lucas s mammoth bedroom.
The floor was covered from end to end in overlapping Persian rugs Calliope had acquired at bargain prices
when there d still been a Persia.
An immense variety of portraits all depicting hauntingly beautiful women hung from the walls. It
wasn t until my fourth or fifth visit that I realized every painting in the room was of Calliope. Done by the
most famous artists in the world, she was portrayed in every era and style, from Renaissance to
Impressionist to Pop. The crown jewel of the group was a Warhol painting of one of the women Calliope
had claimed to be in her many lives.
The room was dimly lit in colorful jeweled splendor by dangling Tiffany lamps casting kaleidoscope
shadows over the floor. Color was a mainstay of Calliope s world. The rugs, lamps, paintings all a
dizzying array of red, blue, green and pink. Scattered along the walls were large, plush leather armchairs
that made the ones in Keaty s office look like they were for children.
Slumped in one of those chairs was a small, pale teenaged boy wearing a Pizza Hut uniform. His eyes
were hazy and unfocused, but he was alive. And judging by the smell of him, completely human.
Something Secret This Way Comes
I wasn t the only one to smell his true nature. Brigit s eyes widened and darkened to the oily black of
a hungry vampire. Her nostrils flared and her fangs were out before I could yell,  Calliope! It was lucky I
was still holding Brigit by the hair, so when she lunged for the boy, she was yanked back to me by the leash
of her own body.
On cue, Calliope entered the room.
As entrances go, Calliope rarely did things subtly. She swished through the door in a flourish of red
material. Her hair was done in tumbling black waves held back by ruby stickpins. She was barefoot, and
trailing behind her was a snow-white tiger. Seriously.
 Secret! Her voice sounded like a song, and she never seemed unhappy to see anyone, regardless of
how they came to be in her presence.  You ve brought me something. I was expecting you.
I couldn t help but smile.  Of course you were. She was the Oracle, after all.
Brigit turned her attention from the boy to the woman who had just walked in. To a vampire s
heightened senses, Calliope was a confusing jumble of fragrance. She smelled intoxicating and alluring, but
there was a pungent edge of warning to her blood. Something in the fiber of her being warded off potential
predators.
 Who is this you ve brought me?
The tiger smelled my legs and then the hem of Brigit s dress. It bared its teeth at her, growling, and
she knew enough to stop struggling against me.
 Brigit is new. Unsanctioned. Alexandre Peyton turned her to make a bit of an overly dramatic point.
My voice wavered as I spoke.
 You feel responsible for her?
 Yes.
She didn t need to hear more. She came to us and put one arm around Brigit, releasing her from my
hold.
 We ll get her settled in no time, don t you worry. Then you can get back to that handsome wolf of
yours. No sense in leaving him there too long. Wolves and caffeine are a terrible combination. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]