“You trusted Lux?” The man nodded. “Then you were a fool. Do you know the Blade of Auberon?”
The man’s red eyes narrowed. “Who the hell are you?”
“Did Paris Rossignol do this to you?” he asked.
Heat radiated from the other vampire, and Kova caught a whiff of that old power, the scent of a vampire who had been around far longer than he had. “How do you know that name?”
A familiar tug came at his wrists, and then he felt Armina’s voice in his head.
Kova, upstairs. Come now.
He backed away, dodging the man’s swipes at his feet. Once the cell door closed, runes ignited along the bars, sealing him in. Kova had so many questions, but there was no refusing the bitch’s call.
Dread prickled at him as he climbed the stairs and found Armina in the sitting room, eyeballing the lantern that Stella had made. Her nose wrinkled. “A bit sloppy,” she commented. “But useable.”
“Who’s the new guy?” he remarked.
Without looking up, she held out her hand. Lux scurried across the room and put a cup of tea in her hand. “Jealous?”
“Curious,” he said. “If you’d like to replace me and let me go, I wouldn’t complain.”
She let out a sharp laugh and sipped at her tea. “A long gambit has come to fruition. Mr. Shea has a great deal of power which has now become my power,” she said. “And he is very motivated to kill some of your former associates.” Her head tilted toward the lantern. “It’s nearly time to pay Julian Alcott another visit. Scarlett is ready and eager to take her revenge.”
He sighed. “Don’t you get tired of this? She did nothing wrong.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Nor did my husband,” she said. “You have one month to kill the witch.”
“And you’ll free my Lucia,” he said.
She nodded. “I gave you my word, did I not?”
“If you betray me…”
“What will you do, Kova?” she taunted, gesturing with her teacup. Red flashed in her eyes as pain licked up his arms, bone-deep and excruciating. She did it for no reason other than that she could.
“You understand that I will have nothing else to lose if you take her,” he said.
She chuckled. “I understand, dear. I will honor my word if you honor yours.”
“Then consider it done.”
32
With Carrigan Shea dead and his court scattered to the wind, some of the Durendal vampires had begun to fly the coop, seeking their own houses and apartments to live quietly with more privacy than the aged school compound. However, with an entire building for himself and Misha, Paris was in no hurry to relocate. Cinderblocks and rough sheets be damned; he had gone to sleep and woken up next to Misha every night for two weeks. Anywhere with him was a fine place to live.
Olivia and Nikko had remained too, though he suspected that was because Olivia enjoyed having her hands on everything and it was hard to be in charge from afar. Nikko had never been much for material possessions and was content to be wherever he could go to bed next to his human mate.
Dealing with Shea had left something of a void in everyone’s daily agenda, and Olivia was happily filling it with overseeing renovations and upgrades to the compound. While the court remained on the hunt for a hotel or another building that could be updated to serve as a more permanent home, she had brought in contractors to knock out dividing walls and turn some of the classrooms and dorm rooms into apartments. She continually promised that the dust-clouded rubble piles would turn out beautifully.
Meanwhile, Paris had dispatched a crew to reclaim Infinity. Some of the younger vampires had been patrolling the block for a week while the Nightwatch—the name they’d finally agreed on, thanks to Sasha and Kristina’s suggestion—had hunted down feral stragglers. Further investigation by Danielle and Olivia had led them down financial trails to those followers of Shea who had been lucky enough to miss the carnage. Soon, Misha and Shoshanna would work together to lay the groundwork for new protective spells at Infinity, allowing them to reclaim their space in the heart of the city.
But for tonight, the Durendal court celebrated a rare evening off. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a break like this, but Julian had insisted on it. After texting Misha to remind him that they were leaving in twenty minutes, Paris stepped into his office to pick up his new enchanted blade—better safe than sorry—and peeked into Julian’s office. He froze in the doorway when he saw his friend’s somber expression. His dark green eyes were fixed on something unseen, as if staring straight through the wall at an approaching storm.
“Julian?” he said quietly.
Julian startled and shook his head. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“I could practically hear the wheels spinning,” he said mildly. “You’re worried about Brigitte. Scarlett, rather.”
