Dark Heir

Which was in the basement. Right. I started to comment but Jodi rushed on. “The media is bitching about witches and vamps, and to make my day even better, the state senators, representatives, and the oh-so-not-helpful governor are heading down for photo ops in time for the evening news. Which I have to attend,” she barked.

“Ah,” I said, understanding. Jodi was an investigator first and foremost, not a pretty-faced spokesperson for the TV screen. “How about the Master of the City asks you and the government bigwigs to his headquarters for a little tête-à-tête about the ongoing investigation?”

“I have a better idea. Ask him to invite the PTBs over and do a press conference. Without me!”

I gave an uncertain huff of breath. Leo was a totally political animal, and on-screen, he practically glowed with elegant bonhomie, but informing him he needed to play kiss-up wasn’t what I had planned for tonight. The MOC didn’t like it when I got bossy. “Ummm . . .”

Jodi pushed. “I can get the politicians to vamp HQ in time for the ten o’clock news. Tonight.”

“I can ask.”

“Do that. Call me back.” The call ended.

“You need a girls’ day, you two, manis and pedis and gossiping about boys.”

“Bite me, Eli.”

My partner just chuckled.

* * *

The crowd of protestors and spectators was bigger than I had expected. Way bigger. They lined the sidewalk beneath the second-story gallery across from the Council Chambers six deep, and the smell of booze and weed was strong. So was the smell of aggression. I could hear them muttering through the body of the armored vehicle. Muttering and shouting the usual vamp hate slogans. Vamps go home. (Where was that?) Humans only. Kill the vamps. Stake the vamps. The usual. But there was an underlying energy to it this time. Aggression. Anger. Purpose. They got louder as we pulled into the circular drive in front of vamp HQ.

Cops, both on scooters and mounted—on horses—patrolled up and down the street itself, keeping the travel lanes open. There were two marked cars patrolling the side streets. When we emerged from the vehicle, the shouting got louder. They knew who I was. The entire group took up the catcall. “Vamp whore! Vamp whore! Vamp whore!”

Wasn’t that sweet?

They got louder with the insults as we climbed the steps to the front entrance; the armored glass did little to mute the taunts. We were decked out in vamp-hunting gear, the new headsets, and weapons, which meant we had to go through the usual pat-down by HQ’s armed security guys. These were the new guys, who had come in from Atlanta after I beheaded the master of that city, and while I had worked with them, I didn’t know them as well as I did some of the older men. They weren’t good ol’ boys, but they were just as jumpy as the rest of the New Orleans populace, maybe more so, because the Son of Darkness had to have a grudge against anyone at his former prison, and he had mad powers. If he wanted back in here, he could make that happen, and that meant he’d likely come through them. No one would be safe. In fact, I seriously doubted that anyone would be left breathing. Or unbreathing.

At the elevator, Eli said, “I’ll be on sub-four.”

“I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”

Leo’s office door was open. I had never arrived there to find it open, and seeing it wide made me feel off-kilter. The MOC looked fine, however, and was sitting in his swivel chair to the side of his desk, where I could see him, staring at the large screen mounted behind his desk. One elbow rested on the desk, his head on that hand, his legs crossed. He looked like a human city boy, a metrosexual, dressed in slacks and a loose shirt, relaxed, and gorgeous enough to make women and most men drool.

The security monitor was synced to his TV screen, giving Leo a vision of both main and back entrances in continuous view, and a rotating series of screens from other cameras. There were too many cams for one person to monitor, and before the current troubles, I had been working to arrange it so that the less-used cameras were run by simple computer programs that would collect data, collate the changes—people passing, whatever—and show only the changes, when called upon. That job wasn’t finished yet. A lot of things weren’t finished yet. If I died, someone else would have that responsibility.

Was I morbid or what?

I decided on a good offense being the best defense. “Evening, Leo. Two things. One, I need access to Adrianna. Two, Louisiana senators and representatives are flying in from Washington. A press conference with the Master of the City, at his Council Chambers, with the mayor and the governor would be good PR and might help to settle the humans.” Leo didn’t move, didn’t react, and I couldn’t tell by sight or smell if he was tense, terrified, or relaxed. “I’d like Jodi to arrange it.”

Leo still didn’t react, and I hated it when vamps did that still-as-a-block-of-marble thing. It made me want to do something annoying. So I walked over to the gold chaise longue, jumped up into the air, and landed flat on my butt and legs. It made a satisfying creak of springs and a very solid whump, followed by a sound that might be best described as a sproo-OOO-ooiing. “Oops,” I said. “I think I broke your feeding couch.”

Leo was watching me from the corners of heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth curled in amusement. “Yes. I do believe you did,” he said. He cocked his head and his black hair slid along the curve of his jaw, as soundless and gleaming as black silk, until it rested against the edge of his hand. I knew how it felt to touch that hair and curled my fingers under at the memory. “As of dusk tonight, you are no longer my Enforcer,” he said. “You cannot be bound. You are not a blood-servant, whose thoughts and loyalties are known to me. Tell me, Jane Yellowrock. Why do I keep your blood in your veins? Why do I allow your continued existence?”

“I amuse you. And I’m valuable to you, both now, to catch Santana, and when the ESs get here.”

“Ee-eses?” he asked.

“European suckheads.”

Leo let the small smile widen across his face. “Amusement is important to the very old among us,” he agreed. “You may not have access to Adrianna.” Which confirmed that she was still undead. Undead with scrambled brains, but undead.

“Adelaide has collated what information I have on the Son of Darkness, though my people are still looking for a safe, filled with deeds, that was rescued from the clan home and delivered here.