While only a handful knew what he had been doing in his central Texas facility, the loss his company had suffered as a result of the immortals’ raid had been a big one. And the lies told to cover up the research he had been hired to conduct had severely damaged his credibility.
All of that, however, was about to change.
“As was I,” Emrys said at last.
“I heard you ran into some trouble two or three years ago. This is a tricky business, is it not?”
Just keep smiling. You need this asshole’s money. “It certainly is. But things are looking very good for me right now.”
Donald exchanged a skeptical look with Nelson. “Are they?”
“How so?” Nelson asked.
“What we’re about to discuss doesn’t leave this room,” Emrys warned.
“All right,” Donald verbalized as both nodded.
“I’ve recently discovered something that will make me a very wealthy man. I might even go so far as to say one of the wealthiest men in the world. And, if you play your cards right, you can join me in my triumph.”
“What, did you sleep with the lotto girl?” Nelson joked.
Emrys shook his head, his smile genuine now. “Something even better.”
“What are we talking here?” Donald asked. “Weapons? Bioweapons? Drones? Software?”
“I’ve discovered the means of creating what every nation and rebel army on the planet wants: the ultimate supersoldier.”
Donald snorted. “Shit. We already have supersoldiers: men who don’t give a rat’s ass who they kill as long as they get paid to do it. It doesn’t get any better than that.”
“Oh, but it does.” Leaning forward, Emrys planted his elbows on his desk. “I’m not talking about psychological supersoldiers. I’m talking about physical supersoldiers. An army of men who are faster and stronger than anyone else on the planet. Men who can heal from any wound inflicted upon them in minutes. An army of men who will spark bidding wars throughout the world, because everyone is going to want them on their side.”
He had their interest now. Again the two shared a look, this one both dubious and intrigued.
Nelson spoke. “If you’re talking about steroids or—”
“Steroids don’t make you heal spontaneously when shot. They don’t enable you to see in the dark without night vision goggles either.”
“What the hell does?”
“Before I show you, I want to know one thing: If I can deliver what I promise, I want our companies to merge. I have the product. You have the capital and the connections.”
Nelson opened his mouth.
Donald placed a hand on his arm. “If you can deliver what you’ve described . . . we’ll get you the money you need. It will be a joint venture.”
“We have a verbal agreement then?”
“We do.”
Emrys rose. “Then I suggest you come with me.”
Bastien watched Melanie wolf down the pot pie and felt guilty that he hadn’t offered her food earlier. “I’m sorry.” He took another bite of the tasty dish.
Sheldon hadn’t lied. The shit was good. Richart was an excellent cook.
What was it with the Immortal Guardians? Wasn’t there anything they didn’t do well?
“For what?” Melanie asked between bites.
They were ensconced in Richart’s cozy dining room. Melanie sat at the head of the table, which was about half the length of David’s, with Bastien on her left.
“I didn’t think to ask if you had dined before you went hunting with Richart and I.”
She waved her fork. “Don’t worry about it. To be honest, I forgot. I do that sometimes.” She sipped her tea. “I get busy, get distracted, go hours without looking at the clock, and just forget to eat.”
“And today was busier and more distracting than most, I would imagine.”
She laughed. “Yes, it was.” She scooped a small brown square onto her fork. “If this pot pie doesn’t contain meat, what do you suppose these little things are?”
He smiled. She must not be a health food nut like the immortals. “Tofu.”
Her face lit with surprise. “This is tofu?”
He nodded.
“I thought tofu tasted like feet. This is delicious.”
He laughed. “I imagine anything can taste like feet if it isn’t seasoned properly.” He sipped his own tea, took another bite of pot pie, and watched her do the same.
When was the last time he had shared a meal with a woman?
As best as he could recall, he had not done so since his transformation. Everything after that had been about survival and avenging his sister Cat’s death.
And helping his fellow vampires.
Inwardly he cursed. He’d been with the immortals for almost two years now and still thought of himself as a vampire on most days.
Melanie grinned. “Which is why I’ve never invited you to dinner. I can’t cook worth a crap.”
As Bastien took another drink, he studied her over the rim of his glass. “You considered asking me to dinner?” He lowered the glass to the table. “Before . . . all of this, I mean?”
She nodded and moved the vegetables around with her fork, eyes on her plate. “I liked talking with you when you came to visit Cliff and Joe.”
He had, too. And, though it shamed him to admit it, he had looked forward to seeing Melanie more than his friends. And not just because she was prettier. “I enjoyed it, too.”
She looked up with a smile. “I probably would have gotten up the nerve to ask you out eventually. I assume you guys are allowed to date?”
Were they? “Richart does.”
She nodded. “And tonight he saved me from having to comb the Internet for a recipe I could actually follow that might satisfy you.”
He smiled. “Cheese and crackers would satisfy me as long as you were my dining companion.”
Melanie reached over and rested a hand on his forearm. “That’s so sweet.”
Bastien took her hand in his and stroked her fingers. “If you say that in front of the immortals, they’ll swear you’re delusional.”
She shrugged. “That’s just because they don’t know you like I do.”
If she thought him sweet, then she didn’t know him as well as they did. And part of him hoped she never would. He didn’t want her to see that side of him.
“Should we consider this a date then?” he teased.
She smiled. “The first of many, I hope.”
Hope had long since abandoned Bastien. “I can’t resist asking . . . how am I doing?”
She squeezed his hand. “Very well. I freely admit I’m smitten. Isn’t that a word someone from your era would use?”
“It is.” And he was beyond smitten.
They tucked into their meal again, hands still clasped.
“I’m curious about something,” he said after awhile, almost afraid to break the silence it was so pleasant.
She raised her brows in question.
“How did you come to work for the network? I’ve never learned how exactly they go about recruiting members.”
“They didn’t so much recruit me as find me,” she said. “My freshman year in college, my roommate was killed in our dorm room.”
Considering how prevalent violence was in society, he didn’t know why that surprised him as much as it did. “I’m sorry. Were you harmed?”
“No. It happened while I was out cramming with my study group. I found her body when I returned to our room.”
“Were you close?”
“Not really. She pretty much annoyed the crap out of me, always blasting music and bringing guys over to screw while I was trying to study my ass off so I could keep my academic scholarship. I was the nerd to her party girl, I guess you could say. She had moments when she wasn’t the worst roommate in the world. Not nearly as many as I would’ve liked, but . . .” She shook her head. “Irritating or not, I would never have wished that on her.”