Page 31 of Bishop's Flight
“We have two leads,” Brigid said quietly. “And limited time. I’ll take Bernard. You and Miguel should go find Savannah and see if she knows who the businessman is.”
He raised an eyebrow. “My darling girl, are you forcing me to go to a strip club in Henderson?”
She smirked. “Better you than me.”
Brigid sat inthe back with Bernard as their driver was waved through the gates of a large compound in a gated neighborhood along the shores of Lake Las Vegas. There were thick walls around the property, and shaded walkways, stark landscaping, and bubbling fountains decorated the grounds.
The house itself was a brutal concrete facade with very few windows and broad balconies stacked on three levels. Ornate tiles decorated the front of the house, which was painted a stark white.
“So warm and cozy,” Brigid muttered.
“Oh yes, when Oleg Sokolov comes to mind, the first word I always think of iscozy.”
Guards were everywhere, nearly all of them with the heavy black tattoos on their neck and face that characterized Russian organized crime.
Scattered among the human guards, the vampire lieutenants were conspicuous for their clear complexions and neat suits. The humans might be wearing the uniform of a gangster, but Oleg’s own men looked like business professionals.
“He was cooperative about us comin’?”
“More than cooperative—he seemed happy on the phone.” Bernard pursed his lips. “Damn near jolly.”
“Why is that more frightening?”
“I don’t know, but I agree.”
They drove up to the main gate, and a man in a suit opened the car door. Brigid and Bernard slid out, nodding at the collection of vampires around them.
“Brigid Connor.” A tall man appeared at the top of the steps and spread his arms. “Dear friend of my friend Anne.”
Oleg Sokolov was tall and barrel-chested with a thick brown beard and closely cropped dark brown hair cut to military precision. His face was angular and handsome with high cheekbones and a honed jaw marked by a vicious scar that crawled down his neck to his collarbone. His eyes were a smudged grey, and his lips were sensuously full.
Rumors in the vampire world cast him as a lover of many women, but there were none in view that night. His rumored relationships read like a who’s who of powerful women in the vampire world.
He wasn’t wearing a suit like most of the men around him but a Cuban-style embroidered shirt and a pair of linen pants, suitable for the warm spring weather in the desert.
“Oleg Sokolov.” Brigid walked up the steps with Bernard behind her. “It’s been years since I’ve seen you. How are you?”
“I am doing well.” He ushered them into the house. “Can I take your coats and weapons please?”
“Of course.” It made Brigid nervous to remove her coat, then her 9mm, then the two daggers strapped to her chest. The ankle holster was the last to be removed; then she stood in Oleg’s front room, utterly naked except for her clothes and her fangs.
“My friend.” Oleg leaned down and hugged her. “How is Anne? It has been too long since I have seen her.” Oleg smelled like pine and woodsmoke. It was a more-than-pleasant scent.
“I video chatted with Anne last month. She’s doing well. Spending more time at the country house in Galway these days, I think.”
“It’s a beautiful refuge; I cannot blame her.”
“And you’ve met Bernard of course?” Brigid turned to introduce the taller vampire. “Agnes’s first lieutenant. Bernard, did you have the…?”
“Of course.” Bernard turned to the driver, who was following them with a large pink box from the Del Marco bakery. He took the box and handed it to Oleg. “We brought something for tea.”
It had been Brigid’s suggestion, based on her experience working with Katya, and the gesture was obviously taken well.
“So thoughtful.” Oleg snapped his fingers, and a tattooed human rushed forward to take the pink box. “I will have the cook add it to the tea service. Come, join me in the sitting room. It’s most beautiful this time of night.”
The sitting room where he led them was a glass-paneled wonder with a glass roof and walls that overlooked the glittering lakeshore and the hills in the distance. The lights of the Strip lit up the night sky, casting the desert black in a deep blue velvet with only a few scattered stars.
“Is that a dock?” Brigid looked down the hill to a square house that seemed to hover over the water. “You have a boathouse too?”
