The thought made her smile faintly. Sarita’s grandparents on her mother’s side had died while she was quite young. Her memories of them were fuzzy at best. They consisted of a grandfather who always had a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand, and a grandmother who had smelled of lavender. That was it. It looked like having a grandparent was going to be interesting.
Shaking her head, she began to pull the borrowed clothes on over her swimsuit.
Thirteen
“You must be tired after swimming all night.”
Domitian tore his eyes away from the closed door to Mrs. Dressler’s room at that comment from Sarita’s grandmother and turned his attention back to the people seated at the tiny kitchen table with him. Mrs. Dressler, Maria Reyes, and Thorne. The table seemed almost too small for the three of them to eat at. He hadn’t thought they’d fit five chairs around it. They’d managed it, though. It was tight, but would serve for having tea.
“Yes, I am a bit tired,” he said finally, mostly because they would expect any normal person to be tired after such a trek. But while Domitian was tired, he was also in pain. He’d definitely used up a lot of blood with the swim here and needed more. However, he wasn’t going to feed off any of the people here at the table. The women were both in their late seventies by his guess, and fragile. Feeding off them could cause a heart attack. As for Thorne—
His gaze shifted to the man. Thorne looked to be in his early thirties, but there was no way he was that young. This house was old and the walls thin, Domitian had had no trouble hearing what Mrs. Dressler had told Sarita about her marriage and her son’s birth. If he’d been born eight months after she and Dr. Dressler married and moved to Venezuela, then he knew Thorne was in his fifties.
It wasn’t Thorne’s age, however, that removed him from consideration as a blood donor. It was the fact that he wasn’t wholly human. Domitian had no idea how the DNA splicing had affected Thorne’s blood, or how his blood would affect him. He wouldn’t risk it.
“Oh well—” Sarita’s grandmother began, and then paused as the bedroom door opened and her granddaughter stepped out.
Domitian was on his feet at once, and moving behind the empty chair next to his own. He’d fetched it for her from the living room as they’d arranged the table. It was a straight-backed cushioned chair and he now pulled it out slightly, his eyes sliding over Sarita as she approached in a pure white peasant blouse with a slate-blue peasant skirt. She looked beautiful and he smiled and murmured, “Lovely,” as she approached.
Sarita smiled at the compliment as she settled into the chair he held for her. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he murmured, easing the chair in.
“Domitian was just saying that he was tired from swimming all night,” Sarita’s grandmother commented as he reclaimed his seat.
“Yes,” Mrs. Dressler agreed. “And actually I could do with a little rest myself. I’m not used to getting up this early.”
“Neither am I,” Maria Reyes admitted and then confessed, “I seem to sleep in later and later the older I get.”
“Then I think we should all go to bed after tea,” Mrs. Dressler announced. “Sarita, you can have the guest room upstairs. It used to be my room until . . .” She gestured to her wheelchair with distaste.
“Domitian can have my room,” Thorne said. “I’m not tired, and someone should keep an eye on the guard on the beach anyway. Make sure he doesn’t come up to the house.”
“Well, good then. It is all decided,” Sarita’s grandmother said brightly. “We will finish our tea and then all get some rest. That way we will be bright and well rested when we decide how best to get the needed information to the police waiting to raid the island.”
Domitian eyed the old women, noting their satisfied expressions and got the distinct impression they had planned this between the two of them. They obviously didn’t want Sarita doing anything as risky as accompanying him to the house to use the phone, and he agreed with them. In fact, they’d just made things easier for him. He could pretend to go to bed, wait until he was sure Sarita was sleeping, and then slip out and go make the call himself . . . stopping along the way to feed on one of Dressler’s security men of course. Or two, he added, and then noticed that Sarita was eyeing him with concern.
No doubt she’d noticed his pallor, Domitian thought with an inward sigh. Unfortunately, the sun was now climbing the sky and streaming through the windows and there was no way she would miss it. The woman didn’t miss much of anything from what he could tell.
“Yes, sleep sounds a good idea,” he said now, smiling at Sarita’s grandmother and Mrs. Dressler.
Much to his relief, Sarita nodded in agreement and her grandmother then asked her if she’d received her last letter before leaving for Venezuela. As she turned to answer her, Domitian considered his plan. Telling his uncle that the island had been purchased under the name Elizabeth Salter would be helpful in getting them here, but it certainly wouldn’t prepare the Rogue Hunters for what they would encounter once they arrived. Part of his coming had been to get as much information as he could about the security on the island and whatnot.
Turning to Thorne, he asked, “Do you know how many security men and domestic workers Dr. Dressler has on the island?”
The man hesitated, but then shook his head regretfully. “Other than a couple of trips to check out where the cameras were and to see if I could not take one of the boats and get my mother and Maria away from here, I stay away from that side of the island as much as possible.”
“At my request,” Mrs. Dressler said solemnly. “The last thing I want is Ramsey to get his hands on Thorne and experiment on him as he has the others. So he stays here at the cottage for the most part.”
“We all do,” Maria Reyes said sadly, breaking off her conversation with her granddaughter. “Our whole life is this cottage, the garden, and the beach below the cliff.”
Domitian nodded with understanding, but wished it was otherwise. Some information about what the Rogue Hunters would be facing would be helpful, and so far he had very little.
“He has a fair number of people here,” Sarita said quietly, drawing his attention as she began to tick them off on her fingers. “In the house there was the cook, Aleta. She rarely leaves the kitchen so shouldn’t be a problem. But there are at least four other people inside the house who help with cleaning and whatnot. There were also three or four men and women working outside in the gardens.” She paused briefly and then said, “That’s it for domestics. At least at the house.”
“And security?” Domitian asked.
“There was a ton of security,” she admitted. “He had four men at the front door, two inside and two out, and two more at the back door out to the garden, one in and one out. But I saw a good twenty of them coming from every direction at meal times, so I think there must be a lot of them who walk the beach, the yard, and the jungle. And that’s not including the guys in the towers and gatehouse down by the labs.”
“Towers and gatehouse?” he asked with interest.
Sarita nodded. “Aside from the guy in the gatehouse, there were four towers. One on each corner of the fencing around the labs,” she said succinctly. “There were two men in each tower. But they were more interested in staring at the buildings inside the fence than anyone coming from outside.” She paused, and then said, “Now that I know about the people they’ve kidnapped, I suppose their job is really to watch for possible escape attempts rather than intruders getting in.” Her mouth twisted slightly. “I did think when I saw it that the setup looked more like a prison than labs.”
Shaking her head, she said, “But while there are lots of men around, like I said, his security is a joke. At least by the labs. The guy in the gatehouse was watching porn. I just walked right past him. And the guys in the towers didn’t notice me walking to the buildings until I was halfway to the first one. I was inside before they could climb down the ladder to the ground.” She paused and said, “He may have more people inside the buildings, though. In fact, I know he has at least one other person working with him. His assistant, Asherah,” Sarita said and then added, “She was a tall blond Amazon, cold as a fish and snarky. Didn’t seem to like me much.”