Ari returned her wandering thoughts to the conversation. Yana continued to reminisce. “Great-Gran was so happy when you were born. The family had blamed her for tainting the bloodlines by marrying a human. Then you came along with the birthmark, and she was determined to make you the best.”


“Why the walk through history, Yana?” Ari interrupted, growing increasingly edgy. “Is something bothering you?”


“No, dear.” Yana reached out and patted Ari’s hand. “Just the ramblings of an old woman. And you’re right, it is history. The past is behind us. We should leave it there.” She smiled and withdrew her hand. “Now tell me about this meeting with Andreas. That is most unusual. And hardly a coincidence, I think.”


Ari was taken aback. Not only by the abrupt shift in the conversation but by the certainty of Yana’s conclusion. “You think he planned it? I accused him of tracking one of us. But why would he follow me? It must have been the wolf. Of course he denied it. Claimed he’d come to help.”


“I didn’t mean to imply he was stalking you. But I do think it was more than just being in the area. He had some kind of hidden agenda.” Yana pursed her lips. “Talaitha wouldn’t like this.”


“What’s Great-Gran got to do with it? Did she know him? He mentioned her name.”


Yana shook her head. “She never told me. Only mentioned him once, a warning. There was something about his life before he became a vampire that worried her.”


Before? That was weird. Interesting even, but Ari was more concerned about this hidden agenda. Had she missed some obvious clue? As if she hadn’t already replayed the meeting with Andreas in her head a hundred times. “So, back to the park, are you thinking he was blood hunting?”


“No, no. Goodness, I would never suggest that.” Yana fluttered her hands in protest. “Andreas is much more in control of his actions. He simply wouldn’t do it. And if he did, he wouldn’t reveal himself to you.”


“Now you’re talking like you know him.” Ari’s face made it a question.


“Met him,” Yana corrected. “But I know quite a bit about him. Made it my business after your Great-Gran warned me off.” For an instant Yana’s face glowed with younger defiance, then she turned serious again. “You shouldn’t underestimate him. He is more dangerous than most of the vampires you’ve met. Maybe than any you’ve met.” Yana peered at her. “I don’t like that he sought you out. Make no mistake, he did just that by revealing himself. Even if he was in the park for unrelated reasons, introducing himself to you seems quite deliberate.” Yana tapped her chin with one finger as if sorting through some mental puzzle.


“I don’t understand. Why are you so worried?”


“Because I don’t understand his behavior. That’s what worries me. He contacted me once in the seven years he was in Riverdale.” She raised an eyebrow. “And you’ve met him in less than three months on the job. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Yana gave her a sly look. “I assume you noticed his charm. It’s hard not to notice. But there’s more to Andreas than a handsome face. How old do you think he is?” Yana leaned forward to make her point and didn’t wait for an answer. “Born to an Italian aristocrat in the late 1700s. Educated in Regency England.”


Ari stared at her, realized her mouth was hanging open, and closed it.


“That’s not all. Have you felt his energy? His power is advanced beyond his years. While rare vampires have inborn abilities, vampiric power is usually acquired through horrific acts of violence. I’m not saying that is Andreas’s history, but the suspicion is there. We see the charismatic facade. I suspect he is more, and possibly less, than he seems. Did you know he was a favorite of the vampire court? Arrived in Riverdale with the current prince nearly seven years ago.”


“I can’t believe this,” Ari protested. She was still stuck back on the age thing. “That makes him over 200 years old! Where’s the cold, creepy look? Instead, he’s got the laughter, the sexy eyes…” Ari stopped before she said too much.


“Proves my point. As long as I’ve known him, Andreas has moved among the human community. Perhaps he took care from the beginning to retain his human likeness. Or at some point he learned to mimic the behaviors of the living. In any case, it takes unusual ability that you cannot discount. He has all the cunning of two centuries of vampirism behind him.”


Ari struggled to take it in. Andreas acted so alive. Her instincts had tried to tell her the animation and the power were contradictions—but 200 years! No wonder she felt the almost irresistible pull of his magic.


“A favorite of the local vampire court,” Ari said, repeating Yana’s earlier words. “What does that mean? Is it a political position? Is he a guard? An heir to the throne?”


“Maybe all of those or none. He’s acted as a liaison to the Magic Council once or twice before Lucien was assigned. Some of the members trust him.”


“So where’s he been? Why am I just hearing about him?”


Yana gave her a shrewd look. “And how many vampires do you know?”


Ari counted them off on her fingers. “Lucien, Rita. I’ve seen Prince Daron on TV and several on the streets. Not many, I guess. Never thought about it before. Was he the vampire rep when you met him?”


Yana shook her head. “No. Before Lucien became the official representative to the Magic Council, Andreas approached me on behalf of Prince Daron. He offered to deliver a renegade vampire who had killed four humans. I accepted his offer, and the rogue was tried and executed.”


“Why would he do that? Andreas, I mean. The vamps must have wanted something.”


“Yes, that’s what I thought, but when I asked, he said Prince Daron believed in a different kind of vampire society, less autocratic, more cooperative.” Yana gave a dainty snort. “Maybe that was true, but they’re still secretive.”


“So, Andreas is some kind of spokesman.”


“His authority has never been clear. But enough talk of vampires.” Yana picked up the plate of scones, offered her the last one. “Let’s finish up, and we’ll go for a walk in the garden.”


Ari grabbed the last pastry. She vowed to make tomorrow morning’s run twice as long. As Yana puttered around the kitchen, Ari nibbled and considered everything she’d heard. A more detailed picture of the mysterious vampire was emerging—a picture with numerous warning flags. No matter how sexy or interesting he might be, Ari vowed to stay out of his way.


Besides, she had a murder to keep her busy.


Chapter Six


By the time Ari left Yana’s, dusk had fallen. Olde Town was coming to life. As she approached the waterfront district, the excited voices of tourists and Gothic wannabes floated down the hill from the vampire bars and clubs. She began the climb in their direction. Time to hunt some vampires.


As Yana had pointed out, Ari didn’t have many contacts among the undead, but she did know Rita. She’d met the vampire a year ago when Rita was a newborn and abandoned by her sire. Rita was in a bad way, starved and desperate, hiding in an alley, fighting urges that were alien to her. While abandonment was rare and illegal under both state and vampire laws, it happened from time to time, and shelters had sprung up to meet the need.


Ari had taken her new charge to one of these vampire shelters, where staff provided for Rita and taught her to control her instinct to hunt. At the time, Ari was mostly concerned with protecting potential human victims, but her intervention had saved Rita from certain execution. While they weren’t best friends, Rita still spoke to her. Since Rita was a creature of habit, Ari knew where to find her.


Maurie’s was an undead hangout on State Street, an unassuming bar with one asset: pinball tables. Rita liked to play, and she liked to drink. Maurie’s had both. Ari read the sign on the front door advertising today’s 2-for-1 special. Bloody Marys. Go figure.


“Guardian, are you lost?” Rita threw out the challenge from a back table as soon as Ari entered the door. “Need someone to show you the way home?”


Rita always dressed like a hooker. Hell, maybe she was one, but a lot of vamps dressed in that come-hither way. Today she was all in red, from the spike heels to the silk blouse that dipped dangerously close to her navel and the matching leather skirt that barely covered her thighs if she tugged hard. She lounged in a chair, one long leg crossed over the other, revealing a good bit of skin. She sipped a tall, reddish drink that Ari assumed was a Bloody Mary, vampire style.


“Now, Rita, be nice,” Ari said without rancor. She felt the watchfulness of other vampires as she crossed the room. Ari swiveled a chair from Rita’s table and straddled the seat. “Maybe I’m here to see how you are. Chat with an old friend. You taking a drink break from your hard play at the machine?”


Rita snorted. “Yeah, sure. What do you want?”


So much for small talk. “Know a vamp named Vince or Victor?”


Rita frowned, uncrossed her legs, and squirmed in her seat. “Know lots of dudes. Why you askin’?”


“Just want to talk with him. About his girlfriend, Angela.”


“Don’t know Angela.”


“Didn’t ask you that. I’m looking for the dude.”


They wrangled back and forth awhile. First Rita didn’t know him, then she might, finally let it slip his name was Victor. Rita leaned forward, more guarded now. “I’m no snitch. It ain’t healthy to be askin’ about people. Why you buggin’ me? Go bother somebody else.”


“Just tell me where I can find him.”


Rita got a mulish look on her face and stared across the room.


Ari knew how to play the game. “Got all night. I’ll just sit here until you tell me where to look.” Ari could tell Rita knew something, and she’d eventually give in. Just a matter of time.


The bartender, openly eavesdropping while he polished glasses, and probably anxious to avoid a disturbance, cut short their fun. “You don’t find Victor, little lady, he finds you.”