Blood Born by Linda Howard Read Free Book Online Page B

disappear—literally—so that wasn’tthe problem; the resulting hue and cry was the problem, and that was exactly what he was supposed to help the kindred avoid.
    Enoch hung up the phone. “Hector didn’t answer. He must have left his quarters.” He glanced at the ornate grandfather clock that dominated the foyer, a slight frown creasing his forehead as if he wondered what Hector was doing wandering around the building during daylight hours. Luca gathered that Enoch didn’t like Council members to deviate from their routine, which was understandable. If he were the one responsible for meeting the wants and needs of nine very powerful, sometimes capricious vampires, he’d want them to be where they were supposed to be, too.
    “I’ll find him,” he said to Enoch, striding to the elevator.
    Enoch looked appalled at the idea of Luca doing his own wandering through the building, and hurried to enter the elevator with him. As Luca hit the down button, he hid his amusement; maybe Enoch also suspected he might be here to eliminate one of the Council members, though in that case what he thought he could do was a puzzle. Open a door for Luca, perhaps? Hold down the target in case he or she struggled? Bring him a glass of blood afterward, in case Luca needed refreshment? The one thing he wouldn’t do was try to interfere with the executioner, which would sign his own death warrant.
    Then another thought struck. Hector was old, but age didn’t matter to vampires when it came to one particular area: sex. Could Hector be having an assignation, and Enoch knew about it? On the other hand, why would anyone care? And as worried as Hector had been yesterday when he called, would he then blithely settle down for a long round of sex when he knew Luca was due to arrive? Not likely.
    The private apartments of the Council members took up two of the three underground floors of the building, which had originally been built in the eighteen nineties, then extensively remodeled in the nineteen twenties, when the Council had relocated from Paris. Even though the Council members were each able to withstand sunshine, without doubt they all rested more comfortably belowground, where they were more relaxed.
    The bottom subterranean floor consisted of storage and three very sturdy cells, not that any vampire who might require a cell was likely to survive long enough to make use of one. Still, they were there, for the rare occasion when the Council wanted a vampire held for questioning. Aboveground were the public rooms where business was conducted and meetings were held, as well as the rooms a human would expect to see should one be allowed inside: a dining room (unused), a kitchen (also unused), a parlor, some private offices, regular bedrooms. To the outside world, the vampire headquarters was an old, elegant, privately owned building with nothing to distinguish it from the rest of the neighborhood.
    The private apartments were opulent; each furnished according to the Council member’s individual taste. They had all the modern conveniences, including whirlpool tubs, Internet, big-screen televisions, music systems, saunas—anything and everything they desired. Hector’s apartment was on the first basement level; the elevator opened onto a richly appointed foyer, decorated with antique furniture probably bought directly from the maker, or plundered from a palace. Luca had never been much on furniture, so he didn’t know a Louis of any number from a Hepplewhite or a Brandenburg or whatever the hell those guys’ names were; he was much more of a weapons collector. Froma hatchet to a fine Toledo blade to a Browning shotgun to a Sig Sauer nine millimeter, he knew his killing instruments.
    He paused, but even with his sensitive hearing he heard nothing. If any of the Council members were awake, they weren’t moving around or talking. There was something else, though … he stopped, the hair on the back of his neck rising in response to the