Page 6 of Sergi
“Forget what you’ve heard, Cressa. This is of no concern to you.”
She snapped awake and popped up. The earlier sweat that had dried was back. She glanced around. Devon’s room.
Her breath rushed out as if she’d been holding it for hours. She looked at the empty spot next to her. Devon was gone. Her gaze slid to the drapes, where enough light leaked around the edges to signal it was morning.
What the hell had just happened?
She threw the covers off and jumped in the shower to wash the sweat away, then quickly threw on jeans and a pullover sweater. The clock reflected thirty minutes before breakfast. She had to talk to Devon.
When she reached the stairs, she stopped and changed course to her bedroom. She had time for one quick call.
Devon Trelane rose early.He hadn’t slept well. Something nagged. Something he’d overlooked. He couldn’t pin it down, which only served to annoy him. Rather than having Cressa wake up to an irritated vampire, he dressed, stopped in the kitchen for a mug of coffee, and shuffled to his office, still half-asleep.
With his feet resting on the shelf behind his desk, he stared out the window at the breaking dawn as the caffeine cleared the cobwebs. It was unusual for him to be scattered, but he sensed a pending doom he hadn’t felt for decades, not since before hisparents’ horrific deaths. A tragedy he’d been unable to foresee or prevent.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake loose what lay just beyond his grasp. After twenty minutes in a meditative state that provided no solution to his quandary, a knock at the door saved him from further useless attempts.
“Come.”
The door opened to reveal Cook with a carafe of coffee and, if his nose wasn’t deceiving him, a beignet.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I knew you’d require more coffee, and I thought a bit of sugar might help start your day.” He placed the plate down along with a fork and napkin.
Devon smiled at the offering. “You’ve been speaking with Romero’s chef.”
“And I had to give up two of my most treasured recipes in exchange for her secret beignet recipe.” His voice held disappointment in what he perceived as an unfair exchange, but he winked. “She promised to share another secret, but she wanted to try the recipes I gave her first. She’s a tough one, but I have high hopes for many more exchanges.”
Devon smiled as Cook rushed out the door. Breakfast was a busy time for him, even though most of their guests had left while the Family planned for the next stage in the House war against Venizi. Once the sugary treat and another cup of coffee were devoured, he picked up the folder that held notes from the raid on the Underwood mansion where they’d removed Cressa’s mother and half-sister from under Venizi’s control.
So far, Jasper, the vampire Venizi had placed in charge at Underwood’s estate, had been unwilling to give them any useful information. They were, however, able to get a sample of his writing, which validated the journal Harlow had taken from Underwood’s office had belonged to the vampire. More time in acell might soften him, but Devon couldn’t shake the thought that time was of the essence.
The problem was, he didn’t know what could be so critical.
Devon refilled his mug and spread the contents of the folder across his desk. Most of the papers held nothing of interest. Security protocols and guard rotations that Sergi and Simone might find interesting if Devon decided to attack Lorenzo’s businesses. Then his focus turned to Jasper’s thin journal.
He was intrigued that a young vampire like Jasper would use pen and paper for notes rather than a tablet like most males his age would. He opened it and ran a hand over the first page. This would be his third review of the pages, and while he hadn’t found anything of interest the first two times, something made him go through it again.
It wasn’t a diary, nor did it retain critical notes from meetings. That information had likely been entered into a tablet or computer. The pages of the journal seemed to be nothing more than general observations of humans and brainstorming sessions—either from a meeting with his guards or his own private thoughts. The lines of script were a hodgepodge of incomplete sentences. Words and phrases that meant nothing to Devon. Perhaps they were ideas from previous missions or ones that were being planned. The various strings of information might be connected or simply random thoughts of a bored vampire. Sergi and Lucas were still reviewing them against reports from Trelane’s security details.
He was closing the folder when something caught his eye. Carpathian Mountains. The name was listed by itself with a space above and a space below. A single thought or something more?
He shut the folder and, unable to think about anything else, picked up the handful of folders Sergi had left for him. Themorning meeting wouldn’t start for another couple of hours, so he might as well return them.
Sergi was in his office, reworking the weekly security changes. He was surprised to see Devon. “I could have come for those.”
Devon dropped them on the desk and took a seat. “Not necessary. How else will I get my exercise?”
Sergi typed a few more words then closed his tablet and gave him a sour look. “It’s been too long since we’ve trained.”
“No time like the present.”
Two hours later, they sprawled on the training room mats, staring at the ceiling as their sweat slowly evaporated.
“I needed that.” Devon flexed his leg. “I think I pulled a hamstring.”
“There’s no excuse for that,” Sergi grumbled.
“We need to get back to our weekly schedule.”
