Chris had never wanted, or worked so hard for, anything in her life. They had to say yes.
There was only one thing she hadn’t told Burke, the council, or even Sam. As soon as she became a tresora, Chris had no intention of giving her oath of loyalty to Lucan. Instead she’d planned to offer her service to the only Darkyn she wanted to spend the rest of her life with: Jamys Durand.
Naturally she wasn’t supposed to be in love with the Darkyn lord she wanted to serve, she thought as she absently fingered the shard of glass. Burke had explained it to her before he’d agreed to help her train. You must understand what our masters desire from us: absolute loyalty, unshakable trustworthiness, and unwavering devotion to their protection and well-being. The Darkyn have great affection for mortals, and often form close relationships with their tresori, but our bodies are too frail and our existence too brief to make us suitable life companions. They cannot permit themselves to love us.
So to them we’re like dogs, she’d said. Except we talk, take care of the house, and balance their checking accounts.
Her analogy had startled a laugh out of Burke. Something like that.
Herbert Burke’s office lay tucked in the corner of the club, and once Chris made her way through the thinning crowd of patrons, she took out her key card to release the electronic lock and let herself inside.
Although Lucan had a reputation for being arrogant and lofty, no doubt reinforced by the languid contempt with which he treated most people, the suzerain on his own handled a good deal of the jardin’s business concerns. Chris knew he had an active interest in the hundred or so businesses he had purchased since taking charge of Alenfar, and often came up with clever ways to make them more profitable.
He also invested in the very latest in computer mainframes, which controlled satellite terminals stretching from Jupiter to the Keys and constantly monitored his various investments. Everyone who worked for him in the stronghold had been networked with the mainframe. It also served as the central command center for his stronghold, and his massive wall of surveillance monitors kept watch over the club’s interior as well as every inch of the properties surrounding the building. Concealed behind an Alan Pollack painting at the far end of Burke’s office, a vault held enough weapons for the suzerain to stage a respectable coup.
Should Castro’s brother decide to invade, we must have the means with which to blow him back to hell, Lucan had told her once. Besides, one can never have too many AK-47s.
Chris went to the desk, gingerly lowering herself into Burke’s chair before she faced his teleconferencing terminal, on which he still had the Darth Vader screen saver she’d installed for his birthday. When Lucan had seen it for the first time, Burke had told him—with a perfectly straight face, no less—what a huge fan of the Star Wars movies he was.
This was no time for joking around now, though. Chris straightened her jacket, smoothed a hand over her hair, and reached out to input the access code on the terminal’s keyboard.
Her hand shook as it hovered over the keys. I can do this, she told herself. It’s the only way Jamys and I can be together, and I can make something of myself.
Vader dissolved, re-forming into the deeply lined face of a gray-haired man in a beautiful Italian suit.
“Good evening, Padrone Ramas,” Chris said, silently thanking Burke for making her memorize the faces of all the men on the tresoran council. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” Lord, she was already apologizing. Be professional. Show him that you’re already a tresora in attitude if not name. “How may I be of service?”
“The council has deliberated over your request to be granted official status within Suzerain Lucan’s household,” Ramas said. “Is it still your desire to attain the rank of tresora?”
“Yes, sir.” Under the keyboard shelf she crossed her fingers. “I want that more than anything.”
“We appreciate your service to the suzerain, Miss Lang. The letters of recommendation you sent from Mr. Burke and Lady Samantha were most persuasive. Burke indicates that you have successfully completed your training in all aspects of protocol and household management.” He steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “However, attaining the rank of tresora is no small thing. Only a very few humans are trusted with our masters’ secrets and livelihood. Your service would be for the duration of your lifetime, and you would be expected to attend to and protect your lord’s well-being and safety, even at the cost of your own. Once you embark on this path, Miss Lang, there is no turning back or changing your mind. If you have any uncertainty, now is the time to act on it.”