before she could manage, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“I’m delighted to say the same. That’s a V.S.S. insignia on your uni, isn’t it, dear?” The woman’s eyes narrowed as she studied the stylized golden V pinned on Zara’s high collar.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, that’s one way to solve the hemosynther problem.”
Rand blinked. “How’d you find out about that?”
“I make it a point to be well informed about my only son. Especially since you won’t tell me a damned thing. I would have sent you the ‘synther, Rand.”
“It’s not your job to provide me with supplies. It’s my employer’s.” Frowning, he changed the subject. “So. Are you on Falara yet?”
“Oh, yes. I’m meeting with Godsson in an hour, in fact. We’re supposed to be discussing those ideas I have for his new Falaran territories. So far he seems to be very enthusiastic.”
A muscle worked in Rand’s jaw. “I trust your bodyguards are staying on their toes.”
“I can handle myself, Nick. I used to be a merc too, if you remember.”
“Which won’t keep you from getting blood all over that pretty suit.”
“It’s in Godsson’s best interest to make sure I stay safe, given his eagerness to cut a deal.”
Zara had held her temper about as long as she could. “You might want to keep in mind that Godsson doesn’t have this planet yet. He’s not in a position to make deals.”
Adela studied her in the fraught pause that followed. “It’s only a matter of time, I’m afraid. The Falaran Army is outnumbered and outgunned. The newsies say the capital is expected to fall in a week -- perhaps two at the outside. I’m afraid you find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position.”
The woman was so calm about discussing the virtual enslavement of a million people. As if Falara were some corporation she was buying. Zara opened her mouth for a hot retort.
But before she could spit out something ill advised, Rand covered her hand where it lay fisted on the table. “Enough, Zara.”
“But…”
“Zara.” Something about the look in his golden eyes made her close her mouth. It wasn’t anger, or even a dominant’s arrogant demand that his sub shut up. It was more like a plea for understanding, and a promise that he would explain. Just not now.
Adela’s lips pursed as she eyed him, then flicked a glance at Zara. “The lieutenant’s not just a solution to the hemosynther problem, is she?” She sat back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “It’s about time.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mom, she’s a prisoner of war.”
“You don’t fool me, Nick. You always know exactly what you want, and you get it. And then you don’t let go.”
Zara found her tongue at last. “Ma’am, we just met last night.” She grimaced. “Under circumstances that were far from ideal.”
“He rescued you somehow, didn’t he?”
“Ma.”
“That’s what I thought.” She nodded, satisfied. “She’ll do, Nick. You always were a smart lad.”
“That’s not what you said when I was seventeen.”
“You were seventeen . Too much testosterone, not enough brain development.” Seeing Zara’s confusion, Adela explained, “On the night he’s talking about, we fought over his wrecking his brand new sports zipper. Damn near killed himself plowing into a traffic buoy.”
“There was barely a scratch on me.”
“Because you were incredibly fuckin’ lucky. There wasn’t enough left of that flyer to flatten into a sheet of aluminum foil. I almost passed out when I saw the remains.” To Zara she added, “I said something unwise about his need to be more responsible and told him he was grounded. The next thing I knew, he’d ditched his bodyguards and poofed . I was still losing my mind when he finally called three days later and told me he’d become a vampire -- and joined Valentine’s Vamps.”
Zara studied him, bemused. “Why in the hell did you do that?”
He shrugged. “I figured otherwise
“I’m delighted to say the same. That’s a V.S.S. insignia on your uni, isn’t it, dear?” The woman’s eyes narrowed as she studied the stylized golden V pinned on Zara’s high collar.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, that’s one way to solve the hemosynther problem.”
Rand blinked. “How’d you find out about that?”
“I make it a point to be well informed about my only son. Especially since you won’t tell me a damned thing. I would have sent you the ‘synther, Rand.”
“It’s not your job to provide me with supplies. It’s my employer’s.” Frowning, he changed the subject. “So. Are you on Falara yet?”
“Oh, yes. I’m meeting with Godsson in an hour, in fact. We’re supposed to be discussing those ideas I have for his new Falaran territories. So far he seems to be very enthusiastic.”
A muscle worked in Rand’s jaw. “I trust your bodyguards are staying on their toes.”
“I can handle myself, Nick. I used to be a merc too, if you remember.”
“Which won’t keep you from getting blood all over that pretty suit.”
“It’s in Godsson’s best interest to make sure I stay safe, given his eagerness to cut a deal.”
Zara had held her temper about as long as she could. “You might want to keep in mind that Godsson doesn’t have this planet yet. He’s not in a position to make deals.”
Adela studied her in the fraught pause that followed. “It’s only a matter of time, I’m afraid. The Falaran Army is outnumbered and outgunned. The newsies say the capital is expected to fall in a week -- perhaps two at the outside. I’m afraid you find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position.”
The woman was so calm about discussing the virtual enslavement of a million people. As if Falara were some corporation she was buying. Zara opened her mouth for a hot retort.
But before she could spit out something ill advised, Rand covered her hand where it lay fisted on the table. “Enough, Zara.”
“But…”
“Zara.” Something about the look in his golden eyes made her close her mouth. It wasn’t anger, or even a dominant’s arrogant demand that his sub shut up. It was more like a plea for understanding, and a promise that he would explain. Just not now.
Adela’s lips pursed as she eyed him, then flicked a glance at Zara. “The lieutenant’s not just a solution to the hemosynther problem, is she?” She sat back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “It’s about time.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mom, she’s a prisoner of war.”
“You don’t fool me, Nick. You always know exactly what you want, and you get it. And then you don’t let go.”
Zara found her tongue at last. “Ma’am, we just met last night.” She grimaced. “Under circumstances that were far from ideal.”
“He rescued you somehow, didn’t he?”
“Ma.”
“That’s what I thought.” She nodded, satisfied. “She’ll do, Nick. You always were a smart lad.”
“That’s not what you said when I was seventeen.”
“You were seventeen . Too much testosterone, not enough brain development.” Seeing Zara’s confusion, Adela explained, “On the night he’s talking about, we fought over his wrecking his brand new sports zipper. Damn near killed himself plowing into a traffic buoy.”
“There was barely a scratch on me.”
“Because you were incredibly fuckin’ lucky. There wasn’t enough left of that flyer to flatten into a sheet of aluminum foil. I almost passed out when I saw the remains.” To Zara she added, “I said something unwise about his need to be more responsible and told him he was grounded. The next thing I knew, he’d ditched his bodyguards and poofed . I was still losing my mind when he finally called three days later and told me he’d become a vampire -- and joined Valentine’s Vamps.”
Zara studied him, bemused. “Why in the hell did you do that?”
He shrugged. “I figured otherwise
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