Bloodlines (Bloodlines, #1)(18)



Eddie frowned. “Without drinking or killing? That is really weird. That doesn’t sound like normal Strigoi behavior.”

“I’m not sure you can really expect Strigoi to do anything ‘normal,’” pointed out Abe. I gritted my teeth, wishing he wouldn’t engage Keith in this. Please don’t ask about the eye, I thought. Let it go. That was too much to expect, of course, because Abe’s next question was, “They only took the one eye? They didn’t try for both?”

“Excuse me.” I rose before Keith could answer. I couldn’t sit through this conversation and listen to Abe bait Keith, simply for the fun of tormenting me. I needed to escape. “I . . . I don’t feel well. I’m going to get some air.”

“Of course, of course,” said Clarence, looking as though he wanted to rise as well. “Should I have my housekeeper get you some water? I can ring the bell—”

“No, no,” I said, moving toward the door. “I just . . . I just need a minute.”

I hurried out and heard Abe saying, “Such delicate sensibilities. You’d think she wouldn’t be so squeamish, considering her profession. But you, young man, seem like you can handle talking about blood . . .”

Abe’s ego-stroking worked, and Keith launched into the one story I most definitely didn’t want to hear. I went back down the dark hallway and emerged outside. The fresh air was welcome, even if it was more than twenty degrees warmer than what I’d come from. I took a deep, steadying breath, forcing myself to stay calm. Everything was going to be okay. Abe would be leaving soon. Keith would return to his own apartment. I would go back to Amberwood with Jill and Eddie, who really didn’t seem like bad companions, considering who I could have ended up with.

With no real destination in mind, I decided to walk around and scope out Clarence’s home—more like an estate, really. I picked a side of the house at random and walked around, admiring the detailed sculpting of the house’s exterior. Even if it was hopelessly out of place in the southern California landscape, it was still impressive. I had always loved studying architecture—a subject my father thought was pointless—and was impressed by my surroundings. Glancing around, I noted that the grounds didn’t match the rest of what we’d driven through to get here. A lot of the land in this region had gone brown from summer and lack of rain, but Clarence had clearly spent a fortune to keep his sprawling yard lush and green. Non-native trees—beautiful and full of flowers—were artfully arranged to make walking paths and courtyards.

After several minutes of my nature stroll, I turned around and headed back toward the front of the house. I came to a stop when I heard someone.

“Where are you?” a voice asked. Abe. Great. He was looking for me.

“Over here,” I just barely heard Adrian say. His voice came from the far side of the house, opposite the side I was on. I heard someone walk across the gravel driveway, the footsteps coming to a halt when they reached what I gauged to be the back door where Abe stood.

I bit my lip and stayed where I was, concealed by the house. I was almost afraid to breathe. With their hearing, Moroi could pick up the tiniest detail.

“Were you ever coming back?” asked Abe, amused.

“Didn’t see the point,” was Adrian’s laconic response.

“The point is politeness. You could have made an effort to meet the Alchemists.”

“They don’t want to meet me. Especially the guy.” There was concealed laughter in Adrian’s voice. “You should have seen his face when I ran into him at the door. I wish I’d had a cape on. The girl’s at least got some nerve.”

“Nevertheless, they play a crucial role in your stay here—and Jill’s. You know how important it is that she remain safe.”

“Yeah, I get that. And I get why she’s here. What I don’t get is why I’m here.”

“Don’t you?” asked Abe. “I’d assume it’s obvious to both Jill and you. You have to stay near her.”

There was a pause. “That’s what everyone says . . . but I’m still not sure it’s necessary. I don’t think she needs me close by, no matter what Rose and Lissa claim.”

“You have something better to do?”

“That’s not the point.” Adrian sounded annoyed, and I was glad that I wasn’t the only one Abe had that effect on.

“That’s exactly the point,” Abe said. “You were wasting away at Court, drowning in your own self-pity—among other things. Here, you have a chance to be useful.”

“To you.”

“To yourself as well. This is an opportunity for you to make something of your life.”

“Except you won’t tell me what it is I’m supposed to do!” said Adrian irritably. “Aside from Jill, what is this great task you have for me?”

“Listen. Listen and watch.” I could perfectly picture Abe stroking his chin in that mastermind way of his again as he spoke. “Watch everyone—Clarence, Lee, the Alchemists, Jill and Eddie. Pay attention to every word, every detail, and report it to me later. It may all be useful.”

“I don’t know that that really clears things up.”

“You have potential, Adrian. Too much potential to waste. I’m very sorry for what happened with Rose, but you have to move on. Maybe things don’t make sense now, but they will later. Trust me.”

Richelle Mead's Books