Sins of the Undead Patriot. a.c. Mason

Чтение книги онлайн.

      “The President will see you now, Mr. Louchian.” A bright-faced young man stopped a few feet away. His tailored taupe suit draped strangely. Not so much that a human would notice, but either the cut of the fabric was off or one side of the man’s body was minutely higher than the other.

      Vaihan stood. Let this be good news. If the Bill was buried in committee again, another long process of revival would start all over. With the instability of the country and the last term of the current president coming to an end, Vaihan would need to begin from scratch with the new president-elect, whoever that would be. Not the kind of news he needed right now.

      The long dim corridor stretched before him. Each step held more trepidation than the last. The Oval Office was saturated with uneasy feelings, impressions left behind by others. Many dark times were survived by the decisions made in that very room.

      “In here.” The young man opened the door and gestured him in.

      She stood and walked toward him, holding out her hand. “Vaihan.” Dark, wavy hair flowed around Kirsten Yamaguchi’s slender face. Rouge coated her lips, accenting their fullness as her mouth quirked to one side. The navy fabric of her tailored dress lay snug on her figure.

      There was always that moment, a fraction of a second pause, when he questioned what he should call her, when he remembered her not as the commander-in-chief, but as the vibrant young senator from Hawaii.

      “President Yamaguchi.” Vaihan gripped her soft hand.

      The lines around her beautiful slanted eyes creased. “It’s Kirsten, same as always.” She shook his hand with a firm grip.

      An outgoing, energetic young woman transformed into an assertive yet calm, mature leader. Now and again, he saw glimpses of the person she was, but those were less frequent. Though he’d found her physically attractive when she was younger, the passage of time had aged her into a swan.

      “Of course, Kirsten.” Vaihan bowed, hands behind his back. The gesture had become a reflex, as it always eased humans’ tension around him.

      “Would you like a drink?” She smiled, stopping by the nook. “Scotch, right?” A mind for details was an asset in her line of work.

      He checked that the door was closed and the windows were vacant too. An eerie quietness hummed in the air. There was no such thing as being too cautious when it came to the president’s life.

      Four forty-five in the afternoon, earlier than he usually drank, though he wouldn’t refuse her. “I appreciate the offer.”

      “Good, as I refuse to drink alone.” She filled two glasses with doubles.

      He wondered what this talk was about. “Rough week?” Two violent hate crimes against zombies caught on tape with the police force of jurisdiction standing by, watching the attacks, had fueled further tensions between the undead and the living.

      She tossed back the contents of her glass and refilled it. “You might say that.” With a smile, she handed him a glass, took a seat and patted the spot next to her. “I did appreciate your call for calm as the investigation into the two horrific cases got under way.”

      Humans didn’t understand that though his kind didn’t die, they felt pain one hundred times greater than they did. Due to a zombie’s constant state of renewal, nerve endings never dulled. “Retaliation won’t advance our cause. We must show empathy even when none is afforded to us.”

      “Did I ever tell you who you remind me of?” The corners of her eyes softened.

      As he sat, he shook his head. A lesson was at hand. She always used relatives to illustrate points.

      “My great uncle Jimmy Yamaguchi. The first Japanese American senator. You’ve probably heard me speak of what my family faced during WWII when martial law was enacted in Hawaii? The hatred.”

      He nodded.

      “Despite all that, Jimmy worked to make a difference. You embody many of his qualities, controlled power and a presence that draws everyone in.” She sipped her drink. “People who contain their power are often revealed to be out of control in one aspect or another. He hid a gambling addiction that eventually ruined him.”

      Vaihan lifted the rim of the glass to his lips. The liquid burned a trail down his throat.

      “Humans need to see each other’s flaws. Weaknesses. When we don’t, we will dig, poke and prod, until we find some.” She gulped back her Scotch. “We’ve never been this close to the approval of the Bill of Undead Rights. The pressure is going to mount and the temptation for whatever dark side of you exists is only going to escalate. If you don’t think you can handle the pressure, tell me now, and I’ll pull in Isay or Lev while you take a leave of absence.”

      At least she cut to the chase. He liked that about her. “Have I conducted myself in a way that has given you reason for concern?”

      “Yes.” She nodded.

      What could he have done? “I have?”

      “Yes, unless you are castrated. And, let me tell you that from the feel I copped and your physical reaction, I know that isn’t the case.”

      When his day had started, he could not have imagined being in the Oval Office with the president, speaking about his erection the night she’d propositioned him over a decade ago. He had been a gentleman. “I don’t believe I’m following the conversation.”

      “You have no love slash sex life to speak of. It’s an issue. People need to see something or they assume the worst. You’re an attractive male of your kind and yet in the years since the undead came out, you haven’t been linked to anyone romantically, undead or human. Are you frequenting hookers?”

      As he sipped his drink, the smoky flavor washed over his tongue. The working girls willing to see his kind were not his type. Nor was he attracted to undead females. Human women didn’t make viable companions. Too many risk factors. Was that why the Homeland СКАЧАТЬ