Bloodshot - Cherie Priest [109]
Finally we were all settled, served, and left alone, and there was no further excuse to keep us from talking. I broke the ice, since nobody else would.
“All right, guys,” I opened. “I know this is awkward, but we’re going to have to have a civilized conversation about some uncivilized stuff. Speak in euphemisms if you feel the need, since we’re in public, but there are some things that have to come out into the open.”
Ian bobbed his head gently, and asked, “Did you bring the paperwork? Do you really have my files?”
Adrian answered for me. “We have them. I’ve been sitting on them for years.”
The vampire’s head continued to bob as he took this in. He said, “I understand you had a sister in the program.” It came out with difficulty, and I almost felt bad about having pushed this. But I thought it couldn’t hurt, and maybe it’d even help him to have someone to tell … and it’d definitely help Adrian, hearing about his sister, even if what he heard wasn’t very nice. Without even thinking about it very hard, I trusted Ian not to share anything too jarring.
Adrian said, “Yes. Her name was Isabelle. Did you know her?”
“I knew no one by name. And after the first few weeks, I likewise did not know anyone … on sight,” he finished softly.
“She was … she was quite young,” Adrian tried a different approach. “Sixteen or seventeen, or at least that’s how she would’ve seemed. Since she had become … like you. She would’ve sounded like a girl, still. With an accent,” he said suddenly, as if it’d just occurred to him. “Like mine. But hers was stronger.”
If I were to guess, I’d say he’d spent some time deliberately uncultivating his own, in order to better hide himself. But I didn’t accuse him of it, in case it was a sensitive subject. And anyway, it was none of my business.
“Spanish,” Ian murmured.
“Cuban,” Adrian clarified. “Our mother came over on a raft before we were born.”
“Such strange stories we have. All of us.” Ian sipped at his wine. He grimaced faintly, but not at the vintage, I didn’t think. And he said, “Please understand, Adrian—I am a vulnerable man in a dangerous position, even now. It is not in my nature to discuss my past and my infirmities with anyone apart from my doctor.”
Adrian almost cut him off. “But—”
“But in a case like this,” he carried on, “I suppose I must make an exception. Though I’m not entirely sure what you’d like to know, or what I could possibly tell you.”
“Anything. Everything.”
“I can’t tell you much; I saw almost nothing. And I never saw her. But I heard her, as you said. And her scent …” His nostrils flared so barely that I could hardly see them move. “It was something like yours. I believe you, when you call her kin.”
Eager and desperate, and reining it in with some difficulty, Adrian asked, “She was there, with you?”
“Yes.”
“What did they do to her?”
“I …” Ian hesitated. “I could not say. Most of us there, we were different, as you can guess. Someone, somewhere, had the idea that our abilities could be tapped—and taken. Or at least designed for use in a less … conspicuous person. For example, they wanted my night vision. There was talk of developing a bio-hack that could be introduced to soldiers, to special forces. To men like you once were,” he added quietly.
Adrian glared at me.
I shrugged. “Yeah, I told him. We’re operating on a need-to-know basis here, and he needed to know. But don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he’s not going to lord the information over you. Or … I don’t know. Use it to get you into trouble. I mean more trouble than you’re already in.”
Ian said, “Now, now, Raylene. Do you mind if I call you Raylene? I feel like surely we’ve endured enough together at this point that first names shouldn’t be so far out of bounds.”
“Go for it.”
“Raylene,” he said again, and I kind of liked hearing it. “I have not at any point used any of my information to bring you harm, have I?”
I said, “No, and I’m trusting you to