minute.”
“Sure.” He clutched his satchel to his chest and hurried away.
Cáel turned back to face them both. His gaze was steady. Calm. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
“Do you?” Ryan insisted.
“You think I don’t know about Salathiel?”
Nayara flinched.
“About Eire, Ryan?”
Ryan drew back, his face shocked.
“About the fact that you’re really Basque, Nayara, although you let people think you’re from the Mesopotamian basin?”
Nayara couldn’t stop her gasp of shock. “No one knows that, except...” She glanced at Ryan and saw that he was staring at her. She shook her head. “I don’t tell people because...” She stopped. How could she even speak the words?
“Because then you would have to explain that you came to Constantinople as a slave, not a free woman,” Cáel finished softly. “And you bargained your way out of the slave pits using your body and sex. But by then, you were already a vampire.” He glanced at Ryan. “A slave’s life was a harsh one.”
Ryan exhaled heavily. His knuckles on the back of the iron chair were white.
Nayara gripped the rich cloth on the table. “But how do you know that?” she demanded of Cáel.
Cáel shrugged. “Lyle Bean. I said he was a researcher. He’s very good at his job.”
“He’s already done the research?” Ryan said.
Cáel nodded. “I just want him to put the...well, the human face on the facts and figures now. He has to tell the story that they make up.”
“It’s a story that covers at least three thousand years, Cáel,” Nayara said. “He will have to be very selective.”
“Is he very good?” Ryan demanded.
“I think so. He pulled together the facts about you two. I have hopes.”
“Facts are one thing. What you’re asking for now...that’s something else entirely,” Ryan said. He pulled in another breath, one that lifted his shoulders and settled them. “I will make a deal with you, Cáel. We will do this, Nayara and I, with some provisos.”
Cáel rubbed at his jaw, considering. Nayara watched his pitch black eyes glittering in the low candlelight, the thick bordering lashes surrounding them, as he considered the matter. He really was an extraordinarily attractive man...for a human.
“State your terms,” he told Ryan.
“The book only covers the time from when Nayara and I met. Nothing about our lives before then. Nothing about her slavery. Or my life in Ireland.”
Cáel looked like he might protest, but then he nodded. “If we’re to have a book that comes in under one thousand pages, that seems like a good place to start it. Alright.”
Nayara carefully let out her breath to hide her shakiness as relief left her trembling. She didn’t know if Ryan had done it deliberately, but he had allowed her to avoid revealing just how old she really was and just how long she had lived in Constantinople before she had met either Ryan or Salathiel.
But Cáel must know. If Lyle Bean had done his research, as clearly he had done, then the only way he could have learned of her slavery was if he had spoken to her maker. That her maker still survived was a pleasant surprise to her. He was still passing as human, for he was not amongst the Agency personnel.
Cáel had read the research. Cáel knew.
Nayara wasn’t sure if she liked that or not.
“My second proviso,” Ryan continued.
Cáel grinned. “Go.”
“I’m presuming this Lyle Bean is intending to do some sort of interview process? We spill our life stories and he tidies up the narrative?”
“Something like that,” Cáel confirmed.
Nayara could feel herself tightening up just at the idea.
Ryan shook his head. “Not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Cáel asked, his tone reasonable.
“That kid is way too young and he’s too nervous around us. He doesn’t know vampires. He’s not used to us. He’s not comfortable. How are we supposed to open up and talk about stuff we haven’t spoken about for centuries to a kid who jumps
“Sure.” He clutched his satchel to his chest and hurried away.
Cáel turned back to face them both. His gaze was steady. Calm. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
“Do you?” Ryan insisted.
“You think I don’t know about Salathiel?”
Nayara flinched.
“About Eire, Ryan?”
Ryan drew back, his face shocked.
“About the fact that you’re really Basque, Nayara, although you let people think you’re from the Mesopotamian basin?”
Nayara couldn’t stop her gasp of shock. “No one knows that, except...” She glanced at Ryan and saw that he was staring at her. She shook her head. “I don’t tell people because...” She stopped. How could she even speak the words?
“Because then you would have to explain that you came to Constantinople as a slave, not a free woman,” Cáel finished softly. “And you bargained your way out of the slave pits using your body and sex. But by then, you were already a vampire.” He glanced at Ryan. “A slave’s life was a harsh one.”
Ryan exhaled heavily. His knuckles on the back of the iron chair were white.
Nayara gripped the rich cloth on the table. “But how do you know that?” she demanded of Cáel.
Cáel shrugged. “Lyle Bean. I said he was a researcher. He’s very good at his job.”
“He’s already done the research?” Ryan said.
Cáel nodded. “I just want him to put the...well, the human face on the facts and figures now. He has to tell the story that they make up.”
“It’s a story that covers at least three thousand years, Cáel,” Nayara said. “He will have to be very selective.”
“Is he very good?” Ryan demanded.
“I think so. He pulled together the facts about you two. I have hopes.”
“Facts are one thing. What you’re asking for now...that’s something else entirely,” Ryan said. He pulled in another breath, one that lifted his shoulders and settled them. “I will make a deal with you, Cáel. We will do this, Nayara and I, with some provisos.”
Cáel rubbed at his jaw, considering. Nayara watched his pitch black eyes glittering in the low candlelight, the thick bordering lashes surrounding them, as he considered the matter. He really was an extraordinarily attractive man...for a human.
“State your terms,” he told Ryan.
“The book only covers the time from when Nayara and I met. Nothing about our lives before then. Nothing about her slavery. Or my life in Ireland.”
Cáel looked like he might protest, but then he nodded. “If we’re to have a book that comes in under one thousand pages, that seems like a good place to start it. Alright.”
Nayara carefully let out her breath to hide her shakiness as relief left her trembling. She didn’t know if Ryan had done it deliberately, but he had allowed her to avoid revealing just how old she really was and just how long she had lived in Constantinople before she had met either Ryan or Salathiel.
But Cáel must know. If Lyle Bean had done his research, as clearly he had done, then the only way he could have learned of her slavery was if he had spoken to her maker. That her maker still survived was a pleasant surprise to her. He was still passing as human, for he was not amongst the Agency personnel.
Cáel had read the research. Cáel knew.
Nayara wasn’t sure if she liked that or not.
“My second proviso,” Ryan continued.
Cáel grinned. “Go.”
“I’m presuming this Lyle Bean is intending to do some sort of interview process? We spill our life stories and he tidies up the narrative?”
“Something like that,” Cáel confirmed.
Nayara could feel herself tightening up just at the idea.
Ryan shook his head. “Not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Cáel asked, his tone reasonable.
“That kid is way too young and he’s too nervous around us. He doesn’t know vampires. He’s not used to us. He’s not comfortable. How are we supposed to open up and talk about stuff we haven’t spoken about for centuries to a kid who jumps
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