There was an attachment with three proposals from different sculptors, depicting preliminary drawings of sleeping wolves for Glen's grave. He was buried in a cemetery in Dallas; I'd checked into that earlier. I liked one of the three best, even as Winkler's email tried to apologize. Well, screw him, and not in the physical sense. I told him which one I liked and that's all I told him.

Merrill's email was next, telling me that a shipment of blood should be arriving at the hotel the following day. That was a good thing—I was about to run out and had let him know a few days before just what my remaining supply was. He was taking care of it for me.

* * *

"Charles was the one who brought this to my attention." Wlodek studied Gavin, who sat before Wlodek's desk inside his private study. Charles, who stood nearby in case he was needed, cleared his throat a little and looked guilty.

"Charles?" Wlodek knew what his assistant's expression meant.

"Honored One, I was talking with Lissa last evening and she turned my attention to this," he said, hanging his head a little. Gavin lifted an eyebrow. He'd been the one to mention the last Council meeting to Lissa; she must have called Charles immediately after. He was glad she was in the states and nowhere near this. This was turning into a huge debacle.

"Since, then," Charles went on, "I took the liberty of talking with Rad—sorry, Radomir—and he told me exactly what happened at Vilmos' cottage. I managed to pull up Vilmos' last bank charges. Sir, I don't think you're going to like this." Charles handed over an itemized list of charges. Wlodek frowned as he took the papers from Charles. "I highlighted the ones that you might be interested in."

Wlodek scanned the sheets. Charges for diapers. Charges for formula. A crib. Several other items that might be used for a baby and all charges made on Vilmos' card by his human companion. This was why he hadn't wanted to give her up. The Council had not received this information.

"Who was in charge of delivering the final warning to Vilmos?" Wlodek growled. He was about to drag a vampire in and have an interrogation. Charles cleared his throat again.

"Honored One, Radomir was sent to help Ian in Barcelona. Sebastian was the only one in the country so he took it."

"Did he bring a reply?"

"No, Honored One. He called and said the papers were delivered. We never received anything from Vilmos."

"How far back do these charges go?" Wlodek's eyes were beginning to go red.

"Nearly six months before, well," Charles hesitated, watching Wlodek. He didn't want to be present when Wlodek lost his temper. What Charles did know was that this had happened before. He'd done additional research, finding corresponding disappearances of children in nearly every city where Sebastian had been assigned for more than thirty days in the past ten years.

"Charles, I see you have other information," Wlodek growled and the growl was that of an animal. Charles handed the information over quickly and backed away. Wlodek's claws were a sight to behold as he sliced through a heavy oak bookcase as if it were tissue paper, flinging books and papers away from him as he did so. Several priceless volumes were ripped into halves or thirds with one sweep of his hand. Charles ran out of the study. Gavin sat still and watched as Wlodek destroyed nearly everything within reach.

* * *

Senator Duff and his two guards came in from a golf game at a nearby country club and checked in with the front desk for messages. "We have these," the young woman at the desk handed over several messages. "And a delivery service dropped off something for one of your party."

"Which one?" Senator Duff asked absently, leafing through his messages.

"Lissa Huston?" The desk clerk went over to peer at the label on the foam container. "It says perishable on the labels." Senator Duff's eyebrow lifted just a little. "The driver said to be sure and deliver it only to the recipient, but I was afraid it would ruin sitting down here and I didn't get any answer when I called her room."

"Oh, we'll take it," Senator Duff said casually. "I'll make sure she gets it." The girl lifted it; it was heavier than it looked. She hefted it onto the desk. One of the security guards picked it up and the three men walked toward the elevator. The Senator made sure there wasn't anyone around when he motioned for the guard to take the package into his own room before locking the door behind him. "Open it," he ordered and one of the guards drew a knife from his pocket and slit the security tape surrounding the container's lid.

* * *

Bill had gone with Tony for a late lunch down the street; there was an Italian place not far away and they stopped at the bookstore for a couple of magazines before making their way to the hotel. Tony and Bill were nearly silent as they walked down the carpeted hallway toward their room, interrupting Senator Duff as he was swiping a key card to get into Lissa's room. Duff's guards and an uncomfortable hotel employee stood behind him.

"What the f**k are you doing?" Tony growled. Bill had a hand on his gun, ready to take it from the shoulder holster.

"I'm just checking on Lissa; we couldn't get an answer when we called," Senator Duff backed up a little. "And I don't like that language."

"She's a night guard and sleeps during the day," Tony said, holding his hand out for the key card. Senator Duff refused to hand it over. One of the guards snickered and Tony turned to face him. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"I'm going to call the police," the hotel employee backed away when he saw Bill remove his gun from the holster.

"We outrank the police," Tony snarled. "Let's go back to your room, Senator. You're going to tell me what this is about."

"All right, but I think she's deceived you," the Senator huffed. "And after we talk about it, I'm sure you'll see things my way and we'll discuss what to do about the situation."

Tony was seething but had to deal with the hotel employee first. "You, what's your name and position!" he barked.

"Andrew Marshall and I'm an assistant manager," the man meekly replied.

"Well, Andrew Marshall, assistant manager, if you'll check your records—the ones your staff made when we checked in, it says under no circumstances should this guest be disturbed during the day. Now, would you care to tell me why you're trying to help the Senator break into her room?"

"I, uh, he said she might be in trouble, and I, uh," Andrew was babbling.

"Those same notes say to contact me first if there's any problem. Now, I've had my cell phone with me all day. Did you try to call?"




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