Nikolai didn't have to work to imagine that look. He'd seen it once or twice himself since he'd met Renata. "What was your gift for her?"
The old man shrugged. "Nothing much, really. I had an old set of daggers I picked up in Nam. I took them to an artist fella I knew who worked with metals and had him customize the handles for me. He hand-tooled each of the four grips with a few of the strengths I saw in Renata. I told her they were the qualities that made her unique and would see her through any situation." "Faith, honor, courage, and sacrifice," Nikolai said, recalling the words he'd seen on the blades Renata seemed to treasure so much.
"She told you about the blades?"
Niko shrugged. "I've seen her use them. They mean a lot to her, Jack."
"I didn't know," he replied. "I was surprised that she accepted them in the first place, but I didn't think she'd still keep them after all this time." He blinked quickly, then busied himself with the box he'd pulled out of the file cabinet. He opened the lid and Niko caught the glint of dark metal resting inside the felt-lined case. Jack cleared his throat. "Listen, like I said before, I'm not going to press for details about what the two of you are involved in. It's clear enough that you're in some pretty big trouble. You can stay here as long as you need to, and when you're ready to go, just know that you don't have to leave here empty-handed."
He set the open box down on the floor in front of him and gave it a little push in Nikolai's direction. Inside were two pristine semiautomatic pistols and a box of rounds.
"They're yours if you want them, no questions asked."
Niko picked up one of the .45s and inspected it with an appreciative eye. It was a beautiful, well-tended Colt M1911. Probably military-issued weapons from his service time in Vietnam. "Thank you, Jack."
The old human warrior gave him a brief nod. "Just take care of her. Keep her safe."
Nikolai held that steady stare. "I will."
"Okay," Jack murmured. "Okay, then."
As he started to get up, someone shouted his name from outside in driveway. A second later, footsteps were pounding up the wooden stairs to the garage apartment.
Niko shot Jack a sharp look. "Does anyone know we're in here?"
"Nope. Anyway, that's just Curtis, one of my newer kids. He's fixing my dinosaur of a computer. Damn virus attack again."
Jack went over to the door. "He thinks I'm looking for a boot disk in here. I'll get rid of him. Meantime, if you think of anything else you two might need, you just ask."
"How about a phone?" Niko asked, replacing the pistol next to its mate.
Jack reached into his front pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He tossed it to Nikolai. "It should have a few hours of battery time. It's all yours."
"Thanks."
"I'll check in with you again later." Jack grabbed the doorknob and Nikolai backed into the shadows, as much a reflex because of the daylight outside as it was an effort to stay out of sight from the unwanted visitor who'd arrived at the top of the stairs. "Well, I was mistaken, Curtis. I checked everywhere and there's no disk in any of my boxes up here." Niko saw the other human's head trying to peer around the edge of the door as Jack closed it firmly behind him. There was a clopping shuffle of feet on the steps as Jack escorted the other human away.
Once he was certain they were gone, Nikolai dialed a remote access number that was maintained by the Order's Boston headquarters. He typed in Jack's cell phone number and a code that would identify him to Gideon, then waited for the callback.
Midday in a compound that housed a bunch of vampires was generally a dead zone of inactivity, but none of the seven warriors gathered in the weapons room of the Order's subterranean headquarters seemed to notice the time, not even the handful of them blessed enough to have loving Breedmates warming their beds. Since regrouping at the compound before daybreak, the warriors had kept themselves busy reviewing current mission statuses and laying out objectives for the night to come. Hashing out Order business for hours on end was nothing new, but this time there had been none of the usual good-natured smacktalk or joking squabbles over who was grabbing up the best assignments.
Now, a few yards away, at the area used for target practice, a quintet of pistols were being fired one after the other, paper bull's-eyes at the other end shredded into minuscule confetti. The compound's shooting range was used more for entertainment than necessity, since all of the warriors had dead-on aim. Even so, that never stopped any of them from testing one another and busting asses just to keep things lively.
There was none of that today. Only the steady hail of all that thundering noise. The racket was oddly comforting, if only because it helped mask the silence, and the fact that the entire compound was vibrating with a low-level current of unrest. For the past thirty-six hours, the mood there had been sober, draped in a collective, if unspoken, dread.
One of their own was missing.
Nikolai had always tended to be something of a maverick, but that didn't mean the male was unreliable. If he said he was going to do something - or be somewhere - you could damn well count on him to follow through. Every time, no exceptions. And now, when he should have been back from Montreal a full day and a half ago as planned, Niko was off-grid and out of contact.
Not good, Lucan thought, sensing he wasn't alone in that sentiment as he looked at the other warriors who also waited for word of Nikolai and dreaded what it eventually might be.
As a Gen One Breed and the founder of the Order in the Middle Ages, Lucan was the de facto leader of this cadre of modern-day vampire knights. His word was law in this compound. In times of crisis - for better or worse - it was his response that set the tone for the other warriors. He was well conditioned not to show worry or doubt, a skill that came naturally to that part of him that was virtually immortal, a powerful predator who'd been walking this Earth for some nine hundred years.