Dark Heir

I took a look at the two weaker witches, mother and daughter. They looked and dressed alike, wearing filmy skirts and peasant blouses, pastel feathers and shimmery crystals in their earrings. They had been injured last time I saw them, but they looked okay now.

“This—” Lachish stopped. She looked at Sabina, sitting cross-legged to her left, the old vampire looking more peaceful than I had ever seen her. Sabina’s white, white skin and her white wimple gleamed in the darkness, her humongous vampire teeth were retracted on their hinges, and her eyes were almost human looking. “Did you know about this?”

“It is no secret that the Master of the City of New Orleans intends to parley with the Witch Coven of New Orleans and the Witch Coven Council of North America,” Sabina said. “As I have spoken, Leo Pellissier knows that the Mithrans are guilty of much evil against witches and have great reason for contrition. There is ample sin for which to pay penance. And though the evil against witches began long before he had the power to end it, he accepts responsibility for foul deeds. This is the beginning of . . . not payment for the lives lost, for that is never possible, but an offering to show that he intends peace and protection for qui operatur magicae, the opus virtutis, in his hunting grounds.”

Lachish looked to me and I shook my head before she could ask. “I’m thinking Latin,” I said.

Lachish’s teeth flashed white in her witch-light. “I know what the words mean, Jane. I was about to ask if you knew what this was.” She indicated the envelope.

“I have no idea. All I can tell you is that looks like Leo’s handwriting on the outside, and his seal was intact until now.”

“He chose an interesting messenger boy for his offer,” she said, and I was pretty sure the “messenger boy” comment was meant to be both demeaning and full of curiosity. Fortunately I’m hard to insult.

To Molly, Lachish said, “The Master of the City has deeded a piece of property to the coven to be used for the conclave and for future coven needs.”

“Wait,” I said, feeling suddenly sick. “Is it the property on First and Chestnut streets?” Lachish nodded and I settled to my seat in the grass, our eyes now level. I said, “There may be a problem. It may be a while before the house is released by the police.”

Lachish’s eyebrows went up in affront, as if I meant that Leo had deliberately deeded a problem property to the witches.

“Leo didn’t know when he wrote the letter,” I said quickly. Or maybe he had. He had to know about the blood inside. “A man was shot there today, and also crimes took place in the recent past. It’s a crime scene at the moment. But it won’t involve the witches. I don’t think.” Well, that certainly made her feel all better. Not. “There’ll be quite a few bullet holes to repair, but Leo is handling that. Or I will. And the place needs a good smudging, according to Leo’s head of security and new Enforcer.”

Lachish’s eyebrows were still up. I realized I was running on at the mouth, and also that what I had said made Leo sound like a tightwad or a guy who would deliberately give a bad gift.

“Look,” I said. “The mess with the shooting today was all my fault. I kicked a guy in the nuts earlier after he jumped me in a hallway. Then my partner shot him in the legs.”

“Both of them?” Lachish asked politely.

It took a sec, but I realized she was smiling at me. Well, laughing at me with well-bred restraint, of course. “Yeah. Both nuts, both legs. Eli’s a good shot. I’m thinking a traitor vamp set him on me.”

Lachish said, “We can discuss this offer and its ramifications later. For now, we’re wasting time. The moon won’t be up long tonight, and we have a monster to find.”

Crap. I breathed in a slow, relieved breath and the witch-light fluttered. It looked like I was going to have help after all.

Molly said softly, “Jane, we’re aware that you’re tied in some way to Joseph Santana. The sun’s down and he’ll need to feed. Soon. He may already be hunting humans to drain and kill. Are you willing to be bait for us to track him and possibly lure him here and capture him?”

I knew why Molly was saying it all aloud. Stating the obvious and getting permission were part of the ceremony, making certain that it was clear to all assembled that I was a willing . . . sacrifice was the wrong word, but it was close. Closer was her word choice and Eli’s. Bait. But there was something in her eyes, some warning, that told me Molly hadn’t yet informed Lachish about the blood diamond, which happened to be in my gobag. I wasn’t sure how to deal with that, but I had trusted Molly all my adult life, so I nodded to let her know it was okay to tell if and when it was necessary. “You’re going to try to make him come to us, here,” I said, tapping the gobag so she would know I had the gem with me. “Yes, I’m willing.”

Molly hesitated, then nodded. We were good to go.

Less than two minutes later, I found myself in the middle of an inner circle, sitting like the witches, cross-legged, Eli’s and my gobags between my knees, our weapons and metal equipment—knives, stakes, guns—still in a pile outside the biggest circle. Not having them near me made me more than uncomfortable, but Lachish assured me I would be safe in the warded circle. Yeah. Right.

Sabina, the old outclan priestess, was watching me through the dark, her gaze piercing and steady, as cold as a block of ice. At her right knee was the black velvet bag holding the sliver of the Blood Cross, the greatest weapon the vamps owned. It struck me as odd that she had it, as there was no silver cage to herd Joseph Santana into, and Leo wanted him alive-ish. Heart removed, of course, however dead-ish that left an old vamp. I formulated that question aloud to her, but more along the lines of, “I was hired by Leo to take his heart. Do you plan to kill Santana true-dead?”

Lachish answered for her. “Sabina has informed us that our prey is a truly powerful vampire. It’s possible that no steel or silver cage will hold a vampire that strong; therefore, we’ve devised a cage of energy. We’ll place you within, call him here through your tie to him, and pull him to the boundary of the outer circle. The moment his flesh touches those energies, we can cage him in the inner circle, within the snare of thorns, the ward devised by the Everhart sisters and granted as a gift to us.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I’m inside the cage meant for Santana?”