And now the enclave wanted to talk to him. Have I made an error?
“Sir?” the host said, pausing at the open door to the patio.
Kal looked up, appreciating the cooling breeze coming off the ocean to shift his fine hair. He hesitated briefly at the empty tables, remembering the host saying the patio was closed, but then he saw Sa’han Ulbrine, looking like a tan, somewhat overweight tourist in bright clothes and flip-flops, his bald head shiny with sweat even under the shade of the palms.
He wasn’t alone, and Kal’s pace slowed as he took in the three men with him. The most striking was a small but tidy man in an army summer uniform, clean-shaven and trim, with a panel of ribbons on his chest. A businessman with a decidedly Asian cast sat opposite him, seemingly oblivious to the heat in a suit and tie, one leg propped up on the other knee as he smoked a thin cigarette. The third looked uncomfortable in his trendy, tight dress pants, his silky, wavy hair almost to his shoulders. His face was pale, and he was squinting despite being in the shade. A suit coat was carefully draped over an adjacent chair, but he still looked hot, even with his narrow tie loose about his neck and his top two shirt buttons undone to show a soft, old scar about his collarbone.
Ulbrine’s voice rose in welcome upon seeing Kal, and everyone stood. With a shock, Kal realized the one with the long hair was a living vampire; the grace he moved with and the uncomfortable squint at the sun gave him away. Not to mention he looks like a god, Kal thought as he scuffed to a halt.
“Dr. Kalamack,” Ulbrine said, beaming as he extended his hand. “Thank you for joining us on such short notice. I ordered iced tea for the table. Would you like something stronger?”
He did, but not with a vampire present, even if it was noon. Though living vampires could tolerate the light as their undead masters couldn’t, meeting when the sun was high would help tamp down any urges for blood that afflicted even the living ones. Ulbrine had probably rented out the entire patio for privacy.
“Iced tea is fine,” Kal said as he shook the elf’s hand. His eyes went to the military stiff, realizing that for all his smooth face and collected mien, he was a Were, an alpha by the look of it. A NASA pin hung at the end of his bank of ribbons, and Kal’s eyebrows rose. Good news, maybe?
“Colonel Jason Wolfe, with an E,” the small man said to his left, his handshake firm as he pumped Kal’s hand once and let go. “Right on time. I like that in a man.”
“Timing is everything,” Kal said, his flash of hope that this might be a job interview faltering as he realized the man with the cigarette was a witch. The scent of redwood coming off him was detectable even over the reek of tar and nicotine. Shit, Kal thought. He might be in trouble. Interspecies meetings to discuss territory rights, population control, and long-running plans weren’t unheard of, but they usually didn’t involve genetic engineers.
“Max Saladan,” the businessman said, voice rough as he extended his hand, and Kal shook it, feeling the tingle of the ley lines as their internal balances tried to equalize. He was a ley line practitioner, and fairly competent, judging by the pressure imbalance between them.
There was a decided coolness about him, and Kal decided he was using a charm to block the heat. Not a drop of sweat marred his severely straight black hair or lightly lined face despite his wrinkled black suit. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and he looked nearly asleep. A cup of coffee steamed beside him in opposition to the three other half-empty glasses of iced tea.
“Dr. Trenton Kalamack,” Kal said, reclaiming his hand. “But Kal is fine.”
“Kal,” the vampire said, smiling a politically polite but warm smile. “I’m Rick Rales. CEO of Global Genetics.”
Kal stifled a shudder as he shook his hand, not liking that the man probably enjoyed his sex with blood and wasn’t picky about the container it came in. “That’s where Trisk Cambri works, is it not?”
Rick nodded as he sat down beside him, his satisfaction obvious as his gaze strayed to the distant servers in more than mild interest. “It is indeed where Doctor Cambri works.”
“Sit, sit,” Ulbrine said as he took his own seat, clearly comfortable in his lighter clothes. “It’s hotter than the demons’ ever-after out here. Kal, I asked the colonel, Rick, and Max to join us. I have a proposition for you that involves them.”
Uneasy, Kal handed his suit coat to the server who had darted forward to take it. He kept his hat, though, dropping it carefully on the table beside his chair before sitting down between the vampire and the Were. An ice-clinking drink dripping moisture was set before him, but he waited until the waiters vanished before sifting a spoonful of sugar into it with a casual slowness. A witch, a vampire, a Were, and an elf go out for lunch, he thought sourly, hoping he wasn’t the punch line. That he was by far the youngest man at the table didn’t bother him half as much as the fact that all four major Inderland species were represented.
“My research is far from a dead end,” Kal said to try to head off the coming accusations. “Once we have a stable host, the possibilities are endless.”
But Ulbrine held up a restraining hand. “You misunderstand. It’s not your research we have a question about, but Trisk’s—er, Dr. Cambri’s.”
Intrigued, Kal settled back under the shade of the shifting palms and took a sip of tea. “She’s working on coding new information into germ cells by way of a virus, is she not?” he said, looking at Rick in expectation. “Creating a true-breeding tomato that will save the world.”