Too long, but how long? She could no longer remember. She had seen him at Elysium perhaps, since the moment she had driven the stake through his heart, but not often. And they had not spoken intimately since then.
Acting on the thought, she dialed his phone number.
Bryon's phone rang. "Yeah?"
"Hello, Bryon."
"Who is... " Then he recognized the voice of his sire. "Ah, you. Hi."
"How have you been? I've missed you." Elizabeth listened to the brief interlude of silence before Bryon answered.
"As always."
"You should visit me." She knew she could compel him to her, but she really did not wish to. She wanted him to come back to her of his own volition. It was probably a foolish desire, she thought, but it was there nevertheless.
"Should I?"
"Yes." She paused. "You will, won't you?"
"Because you miss me?" Bryon's voice sounded cold, somehow. As though something were missing from it that had always been there before.
"What other reason?" Elizabeth kept her voice light.
"Heh. Sure." Bryon's voice seemed to return to what Elizabeth was used to. "How is your protege?"
"Cynthia? She seems worried, of late." She smiled to herself, realizing that curiosity about Cynthia would lure Bryon. "I can give you more news of her when you visit."
Bryon would drop by later that night.
Elizabeth heard the sound of his knuckles rapping at the front door. She stood, hesitant, then strode determinedly to the door and unlocked it. Poised, she admitted her wayward childe to her home. "Do come in, Bryon dear."
Bryon tipped his head. "Greetings." He shuffled his feet as he came inside. She led him to the parlor and sat down, arranging herself artfully on the sofa. He remained standing, going to gaze out the window. He noticed the mourning cloths were no longer draping it, nor were they any longer hiding the mirror from view. "How are you? Keeping busy?"
She answered him, but his eyes were caught by the movement out the window for a moment. He heard her say, "Please do sit, Bryon dear," and seated himself on the couch armrest. "And what has been keeping you busy, yourself?" she asked.
"Trying to keep up with the city. It always changes." He spoke emotionlessly.
Elizabeth let him stay on the arm rest, feeling indulgent, glad to have him with her again, even though she knew the span of time would be brief. "What changes did you note?"
"Religious fervor, pride. All very logical and banal, the state being the home of the new emperor." He meant the presidential elections.
"You commune with the emotionality of the local populace, then. Does it bring you anything you need? Other than vitae, I mean." Elizabeth did not keep up with the mortal tides of opinion and chatter. It was enough work to keep up with Kindred politics.
Bryon looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Not at the moment." He watched her stroke a lock of her hair, watched her place it in captivity behind her ear. "What faith do you confess to?"
"Bryon darling. What a question." Elizabeth found this a daunting leap of conversation, until she surmised that religion had somehow become important to Bryon. She would answer his question, she thought, then put it to him in return. "I was raised in the Church of England, but I have given it little thought since my Embrace. I had a new God then, and when he was gone, I had no need of one any longer." She heard Bryon chuckle softly, and she smiled to hear him laugh. "Have you found a new religion, then?"
Metal shutters seemed to shut firmly over Bryon's countenance. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as he answered. Perhaps she had guessed wrong. "No. And good for both you and the fundamentalists."
She tried to recover. "Indeed, those of strong and meddling faith seem quite pleased at their new, emperor did you not call him? They'll soon learn that politicians have no God beyond money and the next election."
Bryon smiled, though she thought the shutters remained in place behind the smile. "So, what's going on with Cynthia?"
Another abrupt shift, but one she'd known was coming, and was prepared for. "Ah yes. You did want to know about her situation." She paused, and he assented. "Something has been worrying her for the past week or so. I believe she has been contacted, perhaps even blackmailed, by one of the anarchs who... captured her before. I do not know how one escaped the recent purge." She smiled secretively, to provoke him to question.
"Interesting." His brow furrowed. "What do you think of this?"
"I think she will come to me soon and ask my help." With a slender forefinger, she traced a vein on her inner forearm, from the crook of her elbow to the pulse at her wrist, and turned the question back on him. "What do you think, Bryon?"
"I'm not sure I can leave it to that. History does not need to be dredged up that way." Bryon seemed to intensify.
Elizabeth tilted her head toward him. "What can you do about it, then?"
He answered her with only another question. "What else do you know?"
She affected distraction. "Of Cynthia? She continues her mortal professional practice, though it grows to be a strain on her."
"About the blackmailer."
Elizabeth lowered her eyes to her hands resting on her knees. "What do you know of whom it might be?"
In an annoyed tone, Bryon answered, "How the hell would I know? I haven't even talked to her."
"You knew the anarchs, though."
"Only the dead ones. I knew the Steel Fangs and nobody else. Four of them."
Elizabeth nodded, not knowing herself if the four he knew were among those slain. "The only other thing I know is the name Archie. For the rest, I am waiting for Cynthia to decide to unburden herself to me." She had planned to tell Bryon of this, in hope that he would be of help, whether in knowledge or effort. She changed her tone slightly as she continued. "Or perhaps she will go to you for help, Bryon. The young are so unpredictable."
"Maybe."
Elizabeth could detect on Bryon's face a bit of concern and interest now. She smiled at him affectionately. "I'm glad there are still things you care about, Bryon. That's very important."
He looked away distractedly. "Right... I gotta go. If you care to, let me know what happens with her."
"Drop by any time, and I will keep you abreast of the situation, dear." She reached her hand toward him, stopping just a hair's breadth before physical contact.
"All right." He stopped in moderated surprise.
Elizabeth got to her feet in a fluid motion. "Let me walk you out."
"Fine."
She smiled tightly and walked him to the door, seeing him out. After locking the door behind him, she went to the window Bryon had been looking out, and stared out it herself, thoughts of her sire in her head. Would Fox have been disappointed in her for Bryon's Embrace, she wondered, or would he have been proud of his grandchilde, for the apparent independence and darkness the man had lately achieved. She did not know, and for one moment she longed for him, and then she put that feeling away with all its sisters, where it belonged. Jewelry Directory | Business Grade Voip | Vertical Blinds | Yahoo Personals.Com | Discount Window Shades