“Christ, Fernando. I can’t be sure. Is that what you want me to say?” Matthew drove his fingers through his hair.
“I want you to listen to Marcus instead of building fences and seeing to the gutters,” Fernando replied. “Not you, too. It’s madness to even think of branching out on my own with Benjamin on the loose and the Congregation up in arms,” Matthew snapped.
“I was not talking about forming a scion.” Fernando thought Marcus’s idea was excellent, but he knew when to keep his own counsel.
“What, then?” Matthew said with a frown.
“Your work. If you were to focus on the blood rage, you might be able to stop whatever plans Benjamin is setting into motion without striking a single blow.” Fernando let this sink in before he continued. “Even Gallowglass thinks you should be in a laboratory analyzing that page you have from the Book of Life, and he doesn’t understand the first thing about science.”
“None of the local colleges have sufficient laboratories for my needs,” Matthew said. “I haven’t only been buying new downspouts, you see. I’ve been making inquiries, too. And you’re right.
Gallowglass has no idea what my research entails.”
Nor did Fernando. Not really. But he knew who did.
“Surely Miriam has been doing something while you were gone. She’s hardly the type to sit around idly. Can you not go over her most recent findings?” Fernando asked.
“I told her they could wait,” Matthew said gruffly.
“Even previously gathered data might prove useful, now that you have Diana and the twins to consider.” Fernando would use anything—even Diana—to bait this hook if it would get Matthew acting instead of simply reacting. “Perhaps it’s not the blood rage that explains her pregnancy. Perhaps she and the witch in Jerusalem both inherited an ability to conceive a vampire’s child.”
“It’s possible,” Matthew said slowly. Then his attention was caught by Sarah’s purple Mini Cooper skidding and slipping along on the loose gravel. Matthew’s shoulders lowered, and some of the darkness disappeared from his eyes. “I really have to resurface the driveway,” he said absently, watching the car’s progress.
Diana got out of the car and waved in their direction. Matthew smiled and waved back. “You have to start thinking again,” Fernando retorted.
Matthew’s phone rang. “What is it, Miriam?”
“I’ve been thinking.” Miriam never bothered with pleasantries. Not even the recent scare with Benjamin had changed that.
“What a coincidence,” Matthew said drily. “Fernando’s just been urging me to do the same.”
“Do you remember when someone broke in to Diana’s rooms last October? We feared at the time that whoever it was might be looking for genetic information about her—hair, nail clippings, bits of skin.”
“Of course I remember,” Matthew said, wiping his hand over his face.
“You were sure it was Knox and the American witch Gillian Chamberlain. What if Benjamin was involved?” Miriam paused. “I have a really bad feeling about all this, Matthew—like I’ve woken up from a pleasant dream only to discover that a spider has snared me in his web.”
“He wasn’t in her rooms. I would have caught the scent.” Matthew sounded sure, but there was a trace of worry in his voice as well.
“Benjamin is too smart to have gone himself. He would have sent a lackey—or one of his children.
As his sire, you can sniff him out, but you know that the scent signature is practically undetectable in grandchildren.” Miriam sighed with exasperation. “Benjamin mentioned witches and your genetics research. You don’t believe in coincidences, remember?”