Page 71 of Thirst
I sat cross-legged on the mattress, the plate on my lap, and bit into the still-warm croissant. “Ohh...” My eyes slit with pleasure.
“Good, huh?” Rio stretched out long legs clad in ripped jeans, his back against the cot. He appeared relaxed, but underneath he was alert, sizing me up. “We buy them from a bakery in Bluebeard’s Cove.”
“It’s as good as you get in Paris,” I said around a mouthful of flaky goodness.
“I’ll let the baker know. I brought you coffee, too.” He passed me a spoon wrapped in a cloth napkin and a cup with a sip-lid. “I figured you being from Quebec City and all—you know, French. Café au lait.”
Actually I took my coffee black, but I took a sip, trying not make a face at the milky taste. “Half-French,” I said. “My mother was born in Spain. But they love their coffee, too.”
“Yeah? I have some Spanish in me—or that’s what my abuela says. My parents came from Mexico, but I grew up in Ohio. I’ve never even seen Mexico.”
“So you didn’t grow up here on the island?”
“Nah. I came here last fall with Eden—Talon’s mate. This is the first time I’ve been out of the U.S.”
“So you knew her in New York?”
His open expression faded. “Yeah, but how did you know that? She said you’ve never met.”
I took a sip of coffee. “When a lieutenant mates with a thrall, it’s news.”
The shockwaves had rippled through the QCS. My father had gloated, said it proved how weak Brien was, how unfit to be primus. A lieutenant of his claiming a human? A thrall? That was practically unheard of.
Rio still looked suspicious, so I changed the subject, even though I couldn’t help being curious about Eden—how she was doing, how old the baby was now.
“I like your hair, by the way.”
“Yeah? Thanks.” He ran a hand over his colorful locks. “I met Eden in New York—she saved my life. No lie. I was living in a park.”
“I’m sorry.”
He moved a bony shoulder. “It’s all good. Here on the island, I’m her companion—and Talon’s PA.” He added that last part like it was nothing, but pride radiated off him.
I let my brows lift, just enough admiration to make him glow. “A lieutenant’s PA? They must trust you.”
His chest puffed. “Guess so.”
I finished the croissant and started on the eggs, keeping my tone light. “Tell me about Bluebeard’s Cove. It’s here on the island?”
“Yeah.” He crossed one booted foot over the other. “Other than the castle, it’s the only place to hang. But it’s not bad.”
By the time I finished eating, he’d painted a vivid picture of his new home and its inhabitants. I hadn’t realized how many people lived on the island—both human and vampire—and how self-sufficient they were.
The Maritime Syndicate owned the land, letting the local humans live on it rent free. The homes and businesses were theirs to buy and sell as they pleased. In return, the syndicate enjoyed a steady supply of thralls—locals who were paid well and bound to service for only three years.
“Impressive,” I murmured. It explained how the syndicate had grown so powerful, despite their start on an island in the middle of nowhere.
“The whole freaking island is descended from pirates,” Rio added. “That’s how Bluebeard’s Cove got its name.” He gathered the remains of my meal and packed them in the basket. “Look, I gotta bounce.”
I came to my feet along with him. “Any chance you could get me a toothbrush and some paste? And a hairbrush—if it’s not too much trouble.”
“I’ll see what I can do, okay?” he said, and started for the door.
“Wait,” I blurted. “Could you get me pencils and a pad of paper?”
He turned back. “To write on?”
“No. To draw on.”
