I had been at a vamp party. I had slid open the pocket door to the darkened powder room, seeing myself in a slanted mirror, haloed in shadows. Stepping in, I flicked on the light.
A blur swept toward me from the left, crossing the mirror. Time dilated and slowed. Beast screamed deep inside, shoving her strength and reflexes into my veins with a rush of power and heat. Vamp fangs and claws flashed in the mirrors, falling toward me.
The weight of two vamps crushed down immobilizing me. Fangs biting. The next few moments were desperate as I tried to fight my way free. But I was losing. Above me, another vamp watched, icy power flowing from her. Red hair, curly and wild, fanned out, a gold torque etched with Celtic symbols hung around her neck, a gold cuff shaped like a snake climbed one arm. I staked her just as Leo appeared. “Adrianna,” he had said, the word so full of power, it had made my skin ache.
Yeah. That had been a bad one. Me bleeding in a building full of vamps. It was amazing that I had survived. And later, of course, I’d staked her properly. But for reasons of his own, Leo had brought her back to her undead life, and kept her somewhere until she recovered from her own double death and the mind-breaking separation of anamchara with one of the Damours—black-magic-practicing witch-vamps I had killed. Yeah. We had a history. None of it important, but all of it bad.
And now, with Grégoire and Dominique out of town, Adrianna was in control of Arceneau, one of the most powerful clans in the U.S. Adrianna, who had flaming red hair, like the person in the car with Katie’s missing girls. And the girls had gone to Adrianna’s territory and then disappeared. Crap! No way was this gonna end well.
I breathed in slowly and let the tension ease away from me. To force my body to calm, I walked across the room to the blade Hawk Head had dropped and studied it. It was a short blade, about four inches long, better suited to cutting than to stabbing, having a wide, curving edge and spine and a rounded point. I swiped a paper napkin from a table, wrapped it gently around the butt, and lifted the knife with two fingers. I carried it to the table where I had eaten and opened out several more paper napkins, placing the blade in the fold. I sniffed along the edge for anything odd. Because why would he try to hurt me with such a puny knife? It was hard to parse the scents with my human nose, especially with the pheromones and spice scents in the room, but . . . there was something there, something herbal and chemical both.
Like poison.
“Secure all personnel from Clan Arceneau,” I said. “I want them in separate rooms. No food, no drinks, no TV, and no personal items.” When no one moved, I snarled, “Now!” And they moved. Bliss and Rachael had been planning to leave the vamp party at Guilbeau’s and go to another party at the Arceneau Clan Home. Something was really hinky.
CHAPTER 7
Sold Me to Leo
“So Leo’s not in,” I quoted.
A look of discomfort flashed across Adelaide’s face for a beat, before she squared her shoulders minimally and lied to me. “No.”
I pursed my lips. I didn’t often tell people that I could smell the stress when they lied, and I wasn’t about to tell Adelaide, but I wanted her to know I didn’t believe her. “Leo’s new clan home won’t be ready to move into for another month. What’d he do, go dancing?”
“Really, Jane. Dancing?”
A tight smile set itself free on my face. “Leo can dance. Get him to take you for a spin on the dance floor. The fanghead is sex on a stick.”
Adelaide’s face turned faintly pink, and I realized she was blushing. “Perhaps another time,” she said, and I wondered at the blush. Before I could ask, she went on carefully. “Even if he was in tonight, he will not be dealing with this issue.”
Oh. I looked down at the names of the sequestered members of Clan Arceneau. All of them had been here for weeks, plenty of time to have been dinner for Leo—which meant something important. It meant that whatever was going on, Leo had to know something about it. Got it. “He wants me to deal with it so his hands are clean.”
She shrugged, a delicate move of shoulder blade and collarbone that a ballerina might have envied. The light caught the purple fabric of her silk shirt, creating shadows and hollows and warming her skin.
“It wasn’t a test?” I asked. “A way for Clan Arceneau security to see if the new part-time Enforcer was able to handle herself in a dicey situation?”
“No. Not without Leo’s approval.”
“Which he didn’t give,” I said, just to make sure.