“There are advantages to being treated like furniture,” Yasha said. “I have been treated same way.”
I glanced from one to the other. That was some seriously big furniture to ignore.
“It’s more like an attack dog,” Vlad noted. “Until it’s needed, it’s ignored.” He nodded to Ian. “Yes, I have heard things lately. For the past eight months, I have been working for Ambrus Báthory.” He flashed a grin. “Today is my day off.”
“What do you do for Mr. Báthory?” I asked.
“He has personal bodyguards who are members of his family, though in my opinion, it is not in his best interests to trust them with his life. Other heads of vampire Houses do the same. I guess the old man feels safer keeping his enemies close. If so, he is doing a fine job. He hired me to keep watch over his enemies in his own family, and to oversee security when he leaves his compound. I am not of his House, so Ambrus knows I have no ties, loyalties, or obligations to those who want him gone. But most of all, he knows I cannot be bought or successfully threatened.” One side of Vlad’s mouth curled in a crooked half smile. “Sometimes he has even been known to take my advice.”
I glanced at Ian and Yasha. They seemed to get the logic of what Vlad had just said. I didn’t. “Why would members of your own family want to kill you . . . permanently?”
“Vampires live to be very old. Those of us who choose our risks wisely can live even longer. Those who are not in power can have a long time to wait to be in power—unless they take matters into their own hands.”
I nodded in understanding. “And hurry things along.”
“Exactly.”
“But then you’d be in the same position as the guy you just conspired to bump off—constantly looking over your shoulder and trusting no one.”
Vlad shrugged. “It is the game they play. I choose not to play. A long life can mean much boredom. The games can make your time more interesting.” He smiled. “I don’t have that problem since I am a simple man and more easily amused.”
I seriously doubted either one. Vladimir Cervenka was playing a dangerous game right now, especially if Ambrus Báthory found out he’d been talking to us. Though Vlad seemed like the type who had successfully taken care of himself for a long time.
“What would anyone gain by kidnapping Bela?” I asked.
“Ambrus had tapped Bela to be his heir. There is much jealousy in the old man’s inner circle, and throughout the family. Bela is not popular.”
Rake had told me as much before the party Friday night. I’d just put Bela in the same category as many young, rich, and power-hungry men—mortal or immortal. Such men made enemies almost as quickly as they accumulated wealth. However, when the only way to get rid of them was a stake through the heart and decapitation, impatience and frustration was bound to build up.
“Has there been any communication from the kidnappers?” Ian asked. “Ransom demands?”
Vlad shook his head. “And I don’t think there will be. Even if there was, Ambrus would not pay. He is not exactly grieving for the loss of his nephew.”
Now I really was confused. “But you said he’d made Bela his heir.”
“Only to keep his most dangerous enemy closest of all. Bela wants—or wanted, if his head has now parted ways with his shoulders—his uncle out of the way. Permanently. You must understand that Ambrus Báthory comes from the Old World, and sees no need to change for modern times. Nor does he believe the time has come for him to step down in favor of Bela. The young one has long been a fang at the old man’s throat. I’m surprised he has not killed Bela himself.”
“So why would anyone kidnap Bela?” I asked.
“He knows things. Things the old man wanted to keep secret.”
“Like what Ambrus keeps in his safe deposit boxes?” Ian asked.
“When you are constantly surrounded by your enemies, it would be best to keep the possessions you value the most away from you. This way you would only need to protect yourself. Whatever it was young Bela had discovered, last night the old man swore to snap Bela’s head from his body if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut.”
“Okay, on Friday night, Bela Báthory was taken from his yacht by a team of swamp creature commandos,” I said. “During the early hours of Monday morning, Ambrus’s safe deposit boxes at the Gotham Bank & Trust were robbed by ghouls. The kidnap/robbery angle doesn’t sound like a coincidence. As to the kidnappers and the robbers, I can’t imagine what swamp creature commandos have in common with ghoul bank robbers.” I opted to leave out that said robbers were led by an ancient being obsessed with having my partner for its next meal.
Vlad shrugged his massive shoulders. “I’m merely a paid attack dog, but Ambrus trusts me—to a point. I will test where that point is and try to dig something up for you.”
11
MOREAU had been true to his word. By the time we got back to headquarters, he had the photos of the Prime Bank crime scene in our e-mail inboxes. Ian had Kenji Hayashi’s enhanced image of the spearhead on his screen. He was leaning back in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed in intense concentration.
I pushed my feet on the floor to roll my chair over next to his.
“Recognize it?” I asked.
“No . . . and yes.”
“Uh, care to clarify that, partner?”