Allegiance(84)

Aidan sat at the end of the sofa, one leg jostling up and down in a nervous twitch. Mirren sat in the adjacent chair, on the phone, filling in Will and Randa about the latest developments.

But first, Robin had told them about her and Nik’s fishing expedition at the tunnel. Cage didn’t know what it meant—the images of the jaguar and of Fen and of that poor woman who had yet to regain consciousness. Guilty or innocent, nobody deserved to be brutalized in that way. Krys, Melissa, and Glory were with her now, trying to figure out how to help.

But he knew this: should it turn out that Fen Patrick had anything to do with what had been going on in Penton, he would kill the man. If it took the rest of his long vampire days, he would see him dead.

“This isn’t your fault—you told them from the beginning that you didn’t really trust him.” Robin’s voice was whisper soft.

“She’s right,” Aidan said, and Cage stifled a small smile at Robin’s surprised expression. From a whisper to a scream, all sound was the same to a vampire. “You had no way of knowing he was up to something. Hell, we still don’t know. We just need some answers.”

Cage shook his head. “I knew that I never trusted him when he was human, mostly because he was cunning and treacherous and good at his job. And I know that becoming a vampire doesn’t make a lamb out of a lion—or a jaguar.”

Aidan shrugged. “All I know is, we—” He turned to Mirren with a frown as the big guy finished his phone call and slammed the phone onto the end table. “What’s wrong? Is it Will?”

Thunderclouds had nothing on Mirren’s expression. “Will’s fine, but seems we haven’t been keeping up with the news.”

Cage rarely watched the news anymore. Over a long life, another war or another feud or another deadlocked American political system seemed like just so much empty drama. “What happened?”

“Ten bombings, scattered around the country in ten cities.” He got up and began pacing. “Only one thing in common—all the buildings housed new blood banks containing unvaccinated donations. The media hasn’t put that piece of it together yet, but they probably will. The colonel figured it out and just briefed Will and Randa.”

Bloody hell. “How many blood banks had been set up?”

“That was it; they took out every goddamned one of them.” Aidan’s voice was hard and as cold as a fierce London winter. “Wiped out all the progress we’d made so far in a matter of seconds.”

Shit. Cage knew it had taken a virtual act of Congress to get those blood banks opened to begin with. The CDC didn’t see the need; not enough people had been allergic to the vaccine; blood supplies could be segregated within existing blood banks with less expense; blah blah blah.

“The likelihood of getting them started again anytime soon is nil.” Cage shifted to put an arm around Robin, who’d fallen asleep. Insomnia, he’d noticed, was not a problem for her. “The only way we can get them going again is to do it through private clinics, if that’s even possible.”

Aidan leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “The only reason we haven’t had the problems the UK is having—the protests and threats to reveal the existence of vampires to the public—is that our people knew those blood banks were about to become operational. We were two weeks away. I don’t know what will happen once word gets out.”

“A shitstorm,” Mirren said. “And you know Frank Greisser will get the word out immediately.”

Aidan stood up and looked at his watch. “I’m going to set up a conference call with Meg Lindstrom and Edward and our other Tribunal allies and try to get the colonel in on it before it gets any later. Where’s Nik?”

Cage didn’t have a clue, but Robin sat up, apparently wide awake. Sneaky little bird.

“He’s with Shawn, doing . . . something. Feeding, maybe.” She shrugged and laughed, but Cage sensed an undercurrent of worry. “I know he wanted to talk to you guys tonight. He can describe the images of Fen better than I was able to.”

“Go and make your call, A. I’ll stay here with Glory and see if Nik shows up. Robin, why don’t you and Cage do some patrols tonight and see if you can locate Mr. Patrick.”

Cage nodded, and Robin was already on her feet and halfway to the door. “Can we kill him if we find him?”

Mirren and Cage exchanged glances. “No idea,” Cage mouthed to him. She could be joking, or she could have a knife with Fen’s name carved into it hiding inside her boot.

“Don’t kill him,” Mirren shouted after her, then pointed a finger at Cage. “Keep her in line.”