Hope and Vengeance (Saa Thalarr, book 1): Saa Thalarr, book 1 Read Online Free
Author: Connie Suttle
didn't look to be a problem.
I was surprised to find myself willing to work with her. Before tonight, I wouldn't have considered it. Still, things could sour quickly. If so, there was always compulsion—and I hadn't seen a single piece of evidence that gave me any idea she was the psychic she claimed to be, a bit of good guessing aside.
"I'm not a particularly good guesser," She turned to me once more. "I'm good with possibilities and absolutes." She stood, letting me know that somehow, I'd offended her. And possibilities and absolutes? I had no idea what that meant. She'd certainly picked those thoughts straight from my mind, however, and that sent a worried tingle through me. I would be forced to report this to Xavier and police my thoughts better.
"I'll walk you to your car," I offered. It was the polite (and gentlemanly) thing to do.
"It's not necessary," she informed me coldly and walked away. I caught up with her. She walked faster; I lengthened my stride. It made me wonder why I was bothering. I hadn't bothered with a woman—not for a very long while.
Her automobile was a small import—a hybrid. Plucking the keys from her fingers, I opened the door for her. Without a word, she slid into the driver's seat. Reaching in, I leaned over her and inserted the key before pulling the seat belt and buckling her in.
"Safety first, huh?" she looked at me as I pulled back.
"Always," I said, a slight smile tugging at my mouth. "Drive carefully," I added as I shut her door.
"Always," she echoed my words. I waited until she drove out of the parking lot before going to my rental and climbing in.
* * *
Hartshorne Oil was located two miles outside Corpus Christi's city limits. I parked on a deserted farm road half a mile from the refinery entrance, hid my keys beneath the mat and concentrated on turning to mist. It takes roughly five minutes for me to become mist, but that talent is rare and highly sought by the Council.
Xavier always said it was quite the blessing that I'd developed the ability after my turning. He'd found me late one evening, bleeding to death on a dark London street after I'd been attacked by six men. Those men had stolen my money purse, my boots and my human life.
Pulling my thoughts away from a very great tragedy in my life, I focused on my misting. Once it was completed, I flew in a direct line toward the refinery. Misting is employed for stealth only, as it takes much too long to make the change. Another vampire would have ample time to destroy a mister in the minutes it took to turn. There are only three known misters in the vampire community, and all three work for the Council.
Passing high over the refinery, I could see men on the ground, large storage tanks, pipes and equipment, lighted towers and buildings. Shifting toward a single-story building with many automobiles parked around it, I lowered my mist to slip cautiously behind two men walking through the entrance. Inside, I found a lobby of sorts as I floated behind the two, both of whom were speaking Spanish. They were discussing a trip to Mexico, to visit family.
A dimly lit corridor was their destination, where rows of time cards were mounted on a wall. A faint beep echoed as each swiped an employee card through a machine. If I'd had a mouth at the moment, I would have smiled. They were clocking in. There were records somewhere. This was a job for Joey.
Chapter 2
After returning to the safe house, I sent a message to Xavier, asking him to send Joey as quickly as possible. I ground my teeth when I reported on Anna Madden; perfect recall was one of my gifts after becoming vampire. I did—and didn't—appreciate its accuracy.
Joey Showalter was the Council's expert on computers and information technology. He'd been responsible for bringing the Council into the modern age. Prior to Joey's turning, Charles, Wlodek's assistant, had taken handwritten notes at Council meetings. Now, Charles had the latest in technology, access to
I was surprised to find myself willing to work with her. Before tonight, I wouldn't have considered it. Still, things could sour quickly. If so, there was always compulsion—and I hadn't seen a single piece of evidence that gave me any idea she was the psychic she claimed to be, a bit of good guessing aside.
"I'm not a particularly good guesser," She turned to me once more. "I'm good with possibilities and absolutes." She stood, letting me know that somehow, I'd offended her. And possibilities and absolutes? I had no idea what that meant. She'd certainly picked those thoughts straight from my mind, however, and that sent a worried tingle through me. I would be forced to report this to Xavier and police my thoughts better.
"I'll walk you to your car," I offered. It was the polite (and gentlemanly) thing to do.
"It's not necessary," she informed me coldly and walked away. I caught up with her. She walked faster; I lengthened my stride. It made me wonder why I was bothering. I hadn't bothered with a woman—not for a very long while.
Her automobile was a small import—a hybrid. Plucking the keys from her fingers, I opened the door for her. Without a word, she slid into the driver's seat. Reaching in, I leaned over her and inserted the key before pulling the seat belt and buckling her in.
"Safety first, huh?" she looked at me as I pulled back.
"Always," I said, a slight smile tugging at my mouth. "Drive carefully," I added as I shut her door.
"Always," she echoed my words. I waited until she drove out of the parking lot before going to my rental and climbing in.
* * *
Hartshorne Oil was located two miles outside Corpus Christi's city limits. I parked on a deserted farm road half a mile from the refinery entrance, hid my keys beneath the mat and concentrated on turning to mist. It takes roughly five minutes for me to become mist, but that talent is rare and highly sought by the Council.
Xavier always said it was quite the blessing that I'd developed the ability after my turning. He'd found me late one evening, bleeding to death on a dark London street after I'd been attacked by six men. Those men had stolen my money purse, my boots and my human life.
Pulling my thoughts away from a very great tragedy in my life, I focused on my misting. Once it was completed, I flew in a direct line toward the refinery. Misting is employed for stealth only, as it takes much too long to make the change. Another vampire would have ample time to destroy a mister in the minutes it took to turn. There are only three known misters in the vampire community, and all three work for the Council.
Passing high over the refinery, I could see men on the ground, large storage tanks, pipes and equipment, lighted towers and buildings. Shifting toward a single-story building with many automobiles parked around it, I lowered my mist to slip cautiously behind two men walking through the entrance. Inside, I found a lobby of sorts as I floated behind the two, both of whom were speaking Spanish. They were discussing a trip to Mexico, to visit family.
A dimly lit corridor was their destination, where rows of time cards were mounted on a wall. A faint beep echoed as each swiped an employee card through a machine. If I'd had a mouth at the moment, I would have smiled. They were clocking in. There were records somewhere. This was a job for Joey.
Chapter 2
After returning to the safe house, I sent a message to Xavier, asking him to send Joey as quickly as possible. I ground my teeth when I reported on Anna Madden; perfect recall was one of my gifts after becoming vampire. I did—and didn't—appreciate its accuracy.
Joey Showalter was the Council's expert on computers and information technology. He'd been responsible for bringing the Council into the modern age. Prior to Joey's turning, Charles, Wlodek's assistant, had taken handwritten notes at Council meetings. Now, Charles had the latest in technology, access to
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