"You didn't. I had to get up to go to the hospital," Karzac assured me, pulling out a cup for himself and setting it beside mine on the kitchen counter. "Tell me what happened tonight."

"Damn, I didn't even get a chance to go check on the damage," I grumped, remembering that finally.

"It's a huge hole in the ground. No reported casualties. Not humanoids, anyway. Did vampires die?" Karzac lifted the boiling kettle off the flame and poured hot water over tea leaves in both cups.

"A few," I said, watching him calmly make tea. He set a cup in front of me and we both waited for it to steep. "The bad ones," I continued when Karzac didn't say anything. "I got the rest out."

"And how many was that?"

"More than five hundred, I think."

Karzac is a good physician, even if he is a little on the curmudgeonly side. "Are you well? Do you need assistance?" he asked, doing his best to give me a visual once over without appearing too obvious about it.

"I'm okay," I said, sipping my tea. "There were a few broken bones among the others, but there were enough vamps there that had experience with that, so the injured vampires were taken care of. They'll heal with a good sleep."

"How did you get that many out?"

"By turning them to mist. Karzac, Solar Red wants to expose the vampires so the people will be afraid of them and not Solar Red. Are there any werewolves on this planet? They might be targeted, too."

"No, little vampire. The werewolves were exterminated long ago. There was a race war for centuries and the werewolves lost that battle. It isn't often that the two races can coexist upon the same world."

"Too bad," I said softly. There were many werewolves I liked very much. I'd hate to see them taken down.

"As you say," Karzac nodded and drank his tea. I offered to make breakfast for him but he pointed to the time, suggesting that a hot shower might help before I went to bed. He was right. What I didn't expect, however, was to find Kifirin waiting inside my bedroom when I was done.

"I only want to make sure you are well," he said, his angel's face filled with concern.

"But that doesn't explain how you're here inside my bedroom. Did Dragon or Karzac let you in?" I had fists on my hips, glaring at him a little.

"Little Queen, you have nothing to fear. Get into bed before you fall over with the sunrise," he pulled the covers back. The bed did look good, but not while he was standing next to it. He laughed as the thought crossed my mind.

"If it will make you more comfortable, I will leave. I only wish to do what others do—is 'tucking you in' the correct phrase?"

"Tucking me in? Kifirin, I don't know what you are. You smell like snow and flowers in meadows. And waterfalls, maybe, with a volcano thrown in. I don't know what to do with you and I need to go to bed or you'll be picking me up off the floor."

"We cannot have that," he was laughing suddenly, and just as suddenly, he disappeared. Well, as exits go, it was a darn good one.

* * *

"This stack I have been able to eliminate from the suspect list," constable Streetbrick laid a pile of papers onto the High Priest's desk. "This stack contains the questionables."

Seturna Phipik thumbed through the stack of questionables; there were about fifteen of them. "Very well," he pulled a drawer open and held out a flat folder. "The codes are on the sheet; you can transfer the funds to your account immediately."

Constable Streetbrick left the priest's office elated. He could do so much with the added funds. He was nearly off the property when Seturna Phipik ordered him followed and killed. The guard who took the order bowed smartly to the High Priest and left the office in a hurry. A second guard was handed the papers containing names of questionable new citizens. "Check every one of these and kill any that seem suspicious to you," The Seturna ordered. The guard nodded and followed the first guard out the door. "Good, imbecilic hounds," The Seturna mumbled to himself, stuffing the list of names that checked out into a desk drawer before turning to other things.

* * *

"René, I'm afraid I have bad news," Wlodek spoke over the phone. René was in London and checked in regularly with Wlodek through his private number.

"Honored One?" René barely kept the surprise from his voice.

"Radomir just contacted me from Barcelona. He and Russell are attempting to pick up Xenides' trail there, but in the course of their investigations, they were led to your villa outside the city. Local police were already investigating the death of a human housekeeper there—is that correct?"

"Alejandra is dead? Why have I not heard of this?" René was uncharacteristically upset. "I do not understand why Aubrey has not informed me of this. He and Alejandra are quite close."

"That is the difficulty, René," Wlodek said quietly. "The local authorities failed to find the ash, but Radomir and Russell recognized it easily enough—Aubrey was killed as well. Now, I have heard rumblings that you declared Blood Vendetta against Xenides. While I am in agreement with your reasons, Aubrey may have been murdered in order to harm you."

René remained silent for several seconds, attempting to get his emotions under control. His Aubrey—dead. And in retribution for his declaration of Blood Vendetta? Xenides was more of a coward than he'd thought. René growled low. "Honored One," René said after a moment, "I will do whatever I can to bring this criminal to justice. I have attempted to make contacts with others so I might track him. I want him dead. I want him more than dead—I want him tortured, mindbroken and dead."

"René, Aurelius did not teach you to torture."

"Yet this one is responsible for Aurelius' death."

"I will appreciate your efforts to track Xenides—we must cooperate in any way we can to bring this terror down. I curse the day Saxom was made and I curse the sire that made him," Wlodek hissed. René listened as Wlodek expressed his anger. "And now, Saxom's whelp Xenides is likely carrying out his maker's last command—to destroy all of us. We must find him and his collaborators first, René. I will contact you if I have information that might benefit us both. At the moment, Anthony Hancock is also chasing after Xenides. Perhaps we will profit from his collaboration."

"He desires our little rose. That is why you hear from him." René snorted derisively.




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