Page 27 of Maker

“I don’t believe that,” Ivan snorted.

Having his throat ripped out was bad but being confronted with this simile of Will who continued to mock him by simply existing was worse. Maddox would have done anything to hold his boy close in this moment, to be comforted by Will’s love. Instead he had nothing.

“If Gideon cannot be killed, then what can we do about him?”

Maddox wrote one word in very large capitals, so it could not be mistaken, nor argued with:

NOTHING

13

Adark shadow skulked around the exterior of Maddox’s home. It scuffled and shuffled toward the bins, pale fingers pulling off the lids and then going through the garbage.

Ray watched, amused, and slightly confused. It was his job to secure the house, such as it was. Maddox had chosen to live in a brutalist sculpture to meaningless angles. He’d hoped his younger brother would develop some kind of taste over the years, but Maddox didn’t have much in the way of aesthetic taste.

He did, however, seem to have the respect of the local vampires. Nobody had come near the place since Ray and Gideon took up residence. Until now. Now there was a short little vampire getting into the bins. Fascinating.

Ray reached for the vampire and grabbed him by the back of the collar, pulling him away. The young vampire made a hissing sound that was probably supposed to be intimidating but was actually quite adorable.

“And what are you doing, little forager?”

“Conducting my investigation.”

Ray inspected his captive more closely. He was short and light, dark-eyed, pocked-sized, and cute in a petulant sort of way, at least to Raymond’s way of thinking. This one couldn’t have been a vampire for more than a few months.

“Where is your maker, fledgling?”

“I don’t know. I woke up like this, and since then things have been… busy.”

The fledgling still had so many human traits. He was pale too. Probably hungry. The sickness stalking the streets made it harder for fledglings like this to feed. Under normal circumstances they could usually snatch someone and have a quick meal, but now the pickings were slim and often sick.

“What is your name, and why are you here?”

“My name is Skip Chauvelin, and I am, was, an FBI agent. I’m conducting an investigation on the owner of this home. Maddox is responsible for a litany of crimes.”

“Is he, now.”

The little thing really took himself seriously. Chauvelin’s head barely came up to Raymond’s shoulder. It didn’t seem to have registered in his mind that he was being confronted by someone much more powerful and much older than he. These new vampires were just such lost little things. Uneducated and untended.

“Yes. I…”

“You’re coming with me,” Ray decided. “There’s someone you should meet.”

* * *

“Father, I found this.”

Raymond dropped Chauvelin on the floor before Gideon. The maker had not been in a good mood since eating Maddox.

“What is this?” Gideon barely glanced at Chauvelin. He was distracted, perhaps even guilty, though Raymond didn’t think Gideon was actually capable of guilt.

“A fledgling who claims to have been kept captive by Maddox for most of his existence.”

The name Maddox brought Gideon’s attention more directly toward Chauvelin, who had risen to his knees, and seemed to know better than to get to his feet. Ray felt himself stirring at the realization this young, untamed fledgling nevertheless knew how to conduct himself among his betters. Good manners had become so rare among the moderns, they didn’t even know when they were being rude. They thought their lack of manners charming. Raymond did not agree.

“Sire,” Chauvelin said, bowing his head to Gideon.

Gideon glanced at Raymond, who gave a little shrug. The poor thing was so confused. He had no idea who he was before, but he had the sense to know it was someone with great power.

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