I suppose I should have been surprised. But after all I've experienced in the time since I became vampire, it's damn hard to be surprised by anything. So instead of reacting with shock or incredulity, I ask the logical question, "And just how did you determine that the editor is the great-grandson of the vampire who sired you?"
I can hear the shrug in Jonathan's voice. How does one determine anything these days? I had Sophie do a Google search.We traced the genealogy of the mortal relatives of my sire. Steven Prendergast is indeed one of them.
"Steven Prendergast? He's the editor?"
Sophie nods glumly.
"But what makes you think he's behind the attacks on your life?"
"I saw him the second time. He was running toward the road after shooting my horse. He glanced back and I recognized him."
"Did you tell the police?"
"Tell the police what? That the editor of the vampire book I wrote is out to get me because he thinks I know the one responsible for turning his great-grandmother? Because that's what we suspect this is all about. We were able to access newspaper archives from the 1800's. The disappearance of Prendergast's great-grandmother's caused a scandal in the family. Her missing corpse, the fact that she was sighted long after her 'death', the bloodless corpses that turned up. The entire family was disgraced."
My head is spinning. "How in the world did you end up with the one editor who has connections to Jonathan?"
Sophie huffs out a breath. "How do you think? Jonathan when he was-" she pauses, as if searching for the right word, "corporeal had many contacts in the entertainment world. One was a lawyer in New York. Jonathan had me send the lawyer the manuscript under the guise of my new identity, Jonathan's niece. I told him it was a recounting of an old family story I'd heard from my mother. He read it, liked it, and gave it to an editor friend of his who just happened to be big in the genre. Steven Prendergast is editor to many of today's top vampire writers."
I place both hands on the desk and lean forward. "But why would he attack you immediately instead of waiting until he got you alone on that research trip he proposed? Wouldn't that have made more sense?"
Sophie's perfect brow wrinkles. "I don't know what he's thinking. He must know I'm human since he keeps taking shots at me. At the same time, he believes in vampires. We thought maybe we could convince him to meet with us before he goes too far. But he won't return my calls. I get the same message from his assistant every time I call. He's not available." She leans forward, hands clasped on the desktop. "I want this nightmare to end. I've told his assistant I'm backing out of the deal. That I'll return the advance. Still, nothing. I'm afraid to go outside, afraid to run a simple errand. I want my life back."
The emphasis she puts on the last words reflects more than a simple desire to resolve the issue with Prendergast. It's obvious to me she is tired of sharing her consciousness with Jonathan. When she says she wants her life back, she means all of it.
The fact that Jonathan does not immediately respond with a snarky remark is proof that he feels her frustration, too. The silence that stretches between us is fraught with tension. It sizzles in the air like static electricity until even my nerves start to hum.
I shift in my chair. Clear my throat to ease the strain. Ask, "So why did you come to me?"
Sophie closes her eyes a moment, shakes her shoulders as if shaking off the lingering effects of a bad dream. Then she meets my gaze. "We want you to come with us to Leadville."
"Leadville?"
"Leadville, Colorado. Where the story takes place. We figure we'll draw Prendergast out. It's a very small town, isolated. He won't be able to hide and we can confront him on our terms. Make him understand what happened and that I'm not the person he should be attacking."
Again, an undercurrent of meaning swirls beneath the surface of her words, subtle but aimed at Jonathan like the sharpened point of a stake.
I've never seen Sophie like this. Never felt such rage. When I killed her sister, she was angry with me but she knew her sister had crossed the line. She knew that Belinda Burke caused the deaths of many innocents and would undoubtedly have killed again. What she didn't know, what I didn't tell her, was that her sister had sworn revenge against Sophie, too, so I accepted her anger.
But the anger of this woman sitting across from me is like nothing I've ever experienced. It rages deep inside, tightly contained. If the door is ever opened, that rage will burst forth like a back draft, consuming everything in its path.
I pretend to consult the calendar on the desk in front of me when in reality I'm debating if I want to be around when Sophie lets go.
It's bad, Jonathan's voice in my head reminds me that I'd forgotten to shield my thoughts. She's wound so tight lately, I'm afraid she's going to do something drastic.
Is that why you want me along?
I know your relationship with Sophie is strained since what happened with Belinda. But she trusted you before. Maybe you can help diffuse this situation before it gets worse.
Sophie's eyes are downcast, she isn't privy to the conversation going on between Jonathan and me. You don't seem to be helping, I reply archly.
I admit, in hindsight, the book was a mistake. But I did it as much for Sophie as for myself. She lives like a recluse. I wanted to get her out in the world.
You wanted to get yourself out in the world.
Okay. Yes. I'm going crazy in that house. We have no friends. No social life.
You seem to forget. Sophie looks like a twenty year old. She's really over eighty. She needs time to adjust to her new reality.
Time? It's been well over a year. How much time--?
"Well," Sophie brings me back with a start. "Will you come with us? I'd like to leave immediately."
I'm fingering the corner of the calendar. David and Tracey can handle anything going on in the office.
And I owe Sophie. She saved the lives of two of my dearest friends. "I'll need a day or two. I have to wait for my business partners to get back. They're due tomorrow, Saturday at the latest. I can meet you in Denver. Will that be all right?"
"It will have to be." Sophie stands, pushing the chair out of the way with a jerk.
"How will you let Prendergast know what we're doing?"
"He's obviously been following us. He'll know. Just in case, I'll leave a message-another message-with his assistant telling him I'm leaving for Leadville on my own."
I rise, too, come around the desk. "Be careful. I'll call as soon as I'm ready to leave."
"Don't waste too much time." Sophie's tone teeters on the edge of a warning. "I want this over with."
She leaves, spine straight, shoulders tense. Nothing from Jonathan. He's probably wondering the same thing I am-which this does she want over?
I use the time waiting for David and Tracey to do a little research on my own. Leadville at 10,430 feet above sea level is listed as the highest incorporated city in North America-if you can call a place with a population under three thousand a city. Pictures show one main street running straight through town and lined with historic buildings, most dating from the 1800's. Not a mall or movie theatre in sight. Hunting, mountain biking and fishing are listed as the main attractions. None of which I find the least appealing. And when I read descriptions like "quaint" and "unpretentious" to describe lodging, I start to get nervous.
But Leadville does have an airport. I check with my pilot and he says we can fly directly there from San Diego. Good. From Denver it looks like a long car ride and being cooped up with Sophie and Jonathan is not my idea of a good time. I should feel guilty for not offering to stop for them, but if I do that, it means I have to take them back to Denver, too.
Call me selfish, but when our adventure is over, I want to be able to make a clean getaway.
David and Tracey make it back, skip in tow. They have no objection to my taking off for a few days. In fact, from the looks passing between the two, I have a feeling more went on during their trip then just bounty hunting. Fine with me. They're both unattached adults and I know Tracey has had the hots for David for sometime. I say, go for it, girl.
When I call Sophie to tell her I'll meet her in Leadville, she sounds calmer then before. She tells me she's made reservations for us in the best hotel in Leadville, The Delaware Hotel, right in the middle of town. We make plans to meet in twenty-four hours.
I can hardly wait.
