A hand went up and it was Tattoo Dude’s. “I worked San Quentin for ten years. Know all about the entrance protocols. If you got mirrors and other equipment, I can set it up.”
“Get with Wrassler,” I said. “Make it happen.”
When Tattoo Dude looked confused, Wrassler lifted a hand. “Me. If Janie likes or hates you, she’ll rename you.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Derek asked.
“I’m guessing she’s withholding final decision.”
Derek stared at me. That wasn’t quite right. I didn’t know Hawk Head or Tattoo Dude, but they got names. That said, Derek and I had issues—like, even though he worked for the fangheads and for me, he didn’t like nonhumans. I shrugged at him and went back to my notes.
“Night of the gather, I want all hands present. All leaves are hereby canceled.” Several people groaned, and I shook my head with a slight smile. “Next, I want everyone in teams. I’ll be going over the list for security personnel, and will be putting everyone in place on the night of the soiree. Go over the protocols, especially the amended procedures, and watch your e-mail in-boxes.” I made several more announcements, all of it boring stuff, and then said, “Derek, get with me early on the night of. Any questions?” No hands went up and I said, “Last thing. As of seventy-two hours ago, we have a new vamp in town. Rented a limo in Texas. Anyone know about it?” No hands went up, no one looked secretive. Wrassler looked baffled and troubled. Vamps did not enter another’s territory without certain procedures being followed. To him, I said, “Take it up with Bruiser and Leo. See if they know anything. See if one of the visitors for the gather is coming from Texas.”
Wrassler said, “No one is coming from Texas. No one.”
That wasn’t good. Vamps making trouble at a gather wasn’t unknown. A new vamp in town just before a gather was worrisome. “Meeting’s adjourned,” I said. “Let’s eat.”
Moments later, Adelaide brought me a bowl of chili with beans, over rice, and a loaf of bread on a wood paddle, with a serrated bread knife. We sat with Wrassler and caught up on Asheville, and the new personnel in HQ, and shared info and files on our electronic tablets, including the dossiers on the new people. It was homey. Chatty. Fun.
Until Beast sank her claws deeply into my brain.
I saw movement. A smear of red and blue. A glint of metal—a blade, moving fast. I whirled to my left, lifting that hand in an instinctive block. Caught the descending arm on the meaty part of my lower arm. My right hand went for the bread knife on the table as I moved. Right foot shoved my weight, left ball of foot pivoting. Twisted my left arm around the attacker’s right, securing it. Knocked away the attacker’s knife with a right fist to his wrist. Heard the bone break.
Rising but still ducked, I blocked his other arm. Twisted my body under the attacker’s arm. Slammed my shoulder into his stomach. Brought the knife in hard. Felt it penetrate clothes and slide off of leather, like a belt. Felt it press against flesh. Stopped at the first faint smell of human.
I chuffed in disgust and continued my pivot, torquing more power into the shoulder, drawing on Beast’s strength. Tossed my blunt table knife into the corner. Lifted my attacker off his feet, his weight change part of the move. Whirled and dropped him.
He landed flat. The sound was like a dozen sandbags hitting, and an “Oomph” of lost breath. I fell across him, one hand under his chin, clawing at his throat, the other clawing into his abs.
“You’re dead,” he managed. It was a promise.
Hunter attacked in safe place, Beast thought at me. Pack hunters!
I blinked away Beast before she/I ripped into his soft belly. In the same instant, I hit him in the side of the neck with my fist, with enough force to knock him out. His eyes rolled in his head. I leaped to my feet and put my back to the wall. No one else was attacking. I risked a glance down. Dang. Hawk Head was out cold.
I growled low, the vibration filling the room. Fun! Beast chuffed at me. More!
Everyone stared. No one else had moved. I was pretty sure no one was even breathing. Wrassler stood slowly and walked to my side of the table. He nudged Hawk Head with a pointed toe. “Derek, secure the prisoner,” he said.
“Not just yet,” I whispered. I swallowed, forcing Beast back down. I managed a breath that hurt all the way to my toes. Chuffed it out.
“Why not?” Wrassler asked.
“Whose clan is he?” I asked.
“Clan Arceneau,” Wrassler said. His face fell as he put it together. Grégoire and his heir were both gone, leaving the clan home in the hands of Grégoire’s secondo heir—who was well known to be my enemy, Adrianna.
The memory came back in an instant, rushing through me like a steaming deluge.