Sierra Dean - Secret Unleashed

I pursed my lips and did a quick perusal of the other files on the computer. It didn’t seem to be Maxime’s personal laptop because nothing on it was related to him. My best guess was it was a general-use computer, and as such there was nothing of any value on it.

I took a last look at the photo of the window, zooming in to see if there were any clues within that might tell me what I was searching for, but there was nothing. It was just a window. A pretty one, sure, and I could see why Eilidh hated that it wasn’t able to face the sunlight, but it wasn’t anything other than a window.

“Well, it’s as good a place to start as any,” I said with a sigh. According to the website there would be a guided moonlight tour two nights from today, which would be an ideal way to get in after-hours without resorting to a B&E. “Maybe once we’re there, we can get a better feel for what’s missing. Or find Sutherland’s trail.”

“You want to go all the way to San Jose to see what the Tribunal is lying to you about?”

“They asked me to find my father. I’m going to do that. Whatever else I find along the way is fair game. I don’t know Sutherland, so I have no idea if he’s honorable or not. He might have gone rogue, and I’m prepared to deal with that if it comes to it, but in the meantime I want to know what he might have gone rogue for . You don’t up and decide to betray your government one day without a mighty good reason.”

“Unless you’re mentally disturbed,” he reminded me. “Which most government traitors are.”

Closing the laptop and setting it down on the table, I angled myself on the couch to face him. “Are you coming with me or not?”

He seemed surprised by the question. “Of course I’m coming with you. I think we’re beyond the point of that even being an option anymore. I’ve followed you to another frigging plane of existence, for Pete’s sake.”

I had to smile. “Look how well that turned out.”

Since it was still early in the evening, with hours to go before sunrise, we were able to arrange for the jet to take us from Los Angeles to San Francisco. Virgin Air had planes jaunting all over California at a moment’s notice, meaning we could have flown in a passenger jet instead, but Holden put the kibosh on that plan straightaway.

“No. We are not putting three vampires on a plane with a hundred humans. Worst possible idea.” He’d been adamant. I tried to convince him it would be fine as long as he and Maxime had eaten.

I wanted to fly in a real plane.

I’d been on jets before and understood I should be grateful to have avoided a genuine travel experience, but I still wanted to try it. I didn’t get to do a lot of standard human things, and sitting side by side with bored, irate travelers seemed like fun to me for some reason.

It was just so undeniably normal , which was something I didn’t get to experience often.

Too bad it wasn’t meant to be.

My only victory in the whole thing was this time we were allowed to fly inside the passenger compartment rather than the cargo hold. Maxime and Holden showed little interest in the view from the small cabin windows, but I practically had my face glued to them.

Los Angeles from above was stunning, a far-reaching grid of lights spreading farther than the eye could see. New York was so small in comparison, one glowing island as opposed to this huge, illuminated blanket.

I called Desmond since our pilot didn’t seem to mind if we used our phones on board.

“I was just thinking about you,” he told me, sounding close in spite of the thousand miles between us.

“Good things, I hope.”

“Is anyone in earshot?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll stick with good things then, yes.”

“I miss you.” I watched the lights of L.A. get farther away. “Things here have been so strange. I’ll have some unbelievable stories for you when I get home.”

There wasn’t time to get into the whole Sutherland issue over the phone, and I wasn’t in the mood to rehash it right then, anyway.

“You’ve only been gone a day.”

“I know. Doesn’t take long to stir up drama with the vampires.”

“Something they have in common with us.”

“I’ll call you in a day or two, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too.”

After I hung up, the remainder of the flight was uneventful. My impression of San Francisco from the air was marred by cloud cover, but I did get a good view of the Bay Bridge lit up at night, and it reminded me of home. The sweeping wires and towers were more modern than the Brooklyn Bridge, but living on an island made me compare every bridge to the ones I saw at home.

We landed at a small private airport where a town car was waiting to take us to our residence for the next two nights. Although the West Coast council no longer made their home in San Francisco, they still had a number of local connections to make it easy for them to spend a night or two in their old haunting grounds should they choose to.

Which worked out well for us.

We’d be staying in the same hotel suite Sutherland had last been seen in, which I hoped might give me some clues as to what my father had discovered, and perhaps where he’d run off to. Galen informed me the room had been thoroughly inspected by his wardens, and they’d come up with nothing, but maybe my father and I had something other than just DNA in common. Perhaps I’d be able to see something the wardens had missed.

It was probably wishful thinking, but all the same I was hopeful.

Holden’s tension had eased some since we’d left Los Angeles, but he’d kept his distance from me on the plane and opted to sit up front in the car rather than next to me in the back. It wasn’t the most ideal way to sell himself as my full-time lover, but now the only person we had to convince was Maxime, and Holden didn’t seem too interested in keeping up the ruse around his brother.

Maxime didn’t appear to care one way or the other. He was so excited to be out of the Los Angeles keep he kept nattering on about the history of San Francisco and all the places that had been former vampire playgrounds. Under normal circumstances this would be exactly the kind of history lesson I would love to listen to. Right now, though, I was more interested in Holden and the sulky state he’d fallen into.

I’d tried to tell him I wasn’t upset about what had happened in my bedroom, but he was carrying the burden of guilt with him all the same. He was angry with himself, and nothing I was saying helped ease his mind. Shouldn’t I be the one to decide if he should feel guilty about his actions? And if I said there was nothing to feel bad about, why couldn’t he shrug it off?

Our driver took us to an old brick warehouse where a car with our belongings was waiting. Maxime hadn’t stopped talking since we’d landed, and continued to chat about the storied past of the building and the work that had gone into restoring it after the 1906 quake. From what I gathered—I wasn’t listening to everything—it sounded like the council made a handsome income by renting the space to several pornographic film companies as a soundstage.

Maxime assured me several times we wouldn’t be disturbed during our stay, and all upcoming bookings had been rescheduled. I think he was worried I’d be offended by the double life of the warehouse, but quite to the contrary, I thought it was the most interesting piece of information he’d provided since we arrived.

We wouldn’t be sleeping at the warehouse, but it would be our nightly base of operations since the hotel we’d be using was a busy tourist stop, and we couldn’t come and go without drawing unwanted attention. And we certainly couldn’t bring in three coffins without questions being asked.