"No. I killed the creature that took his body."
His lips pulled back, exposing his teeth, a killing grimace. "You," he whispered. Vamps didn't need to breathe much except to talk, but he took a breath, deep and slow. "Killed." Anger built in him. I could smell it, strong and sour. "My son!" he roared into the night.
Beast lifted my own lips, exposing my human teeth. Change, she demanded.
But it was too late. A dozen possible reactions and scenarios buffeted me. I could attack, but they'd set fire to the house. I could run inside, but they'd set fire to the house. I could--
"Hi. My name's Angelina."
The vamps froze, an unearthly stillness in the fluttering flames. The stillness of death. His head moving slowly, Leo looked up, from me to the veranda above.
"I like the fire. Can I come play?"
Leo breathed in, scenting her. Scenting child and witch. His body tensed. Held.
The eyes of Leo's scions flickered to their blood-master, then to me. I saw uncertainty, worry. Clearly they hadn't signed on for killing a child. Two vamps retracted their fangs with little snicks. The one with the open kerosene container looked at it, then back up at the little girl, deliberate and measured. His pupils contracted and he swiveled his head to Leo. Waiting.
"What's your name?" she said, her footsteps pattering out to the edge of the veranda, directly above my head. "Are you Aunt Jane's new friends?"
"Angie, go inside," I said, striving for calm and not succeeding. My heart raced like a doe in flight. Like prey. I knew they could smell my terror.
Leo pulled in another breath, his chest rising, then falling, the sound of the breath whispering through his fangs. We were balanced on the blade of a knife. Leo could go either way: kill his son's murderer and the witches he now smelled in my home, or withdraw and save the child. The Vampira Carta prohibited the killing of children, even witch children, and killing a witch could revoke the unstable peace between the races. But his grief was out of control. Had been for days now. And witches were the sworn enemies of vampires, though I didn't yet know why.
"Are you a vampire?" Angelina asked, for once ignoring me.
The torches flickered in a sudden gust, bringing her scent down from the upper porch. Bubble bath and the warmth of her skin caught in the humid night breezes, swirling down to the ground to mix with vamp pheromones and smoke. The vamps with Leo each took a step back. "Mama says you eat people."
Leo swallowed. "We do not eat people," he said, his voice carefully neutral, laced with his refined, formal French accent. "And you may not play with fire. It is dangerous. We . . . we will return to visit at a later time," he said.
He looked at me, his hatred so bright it burned in his black eyes. "This is not finished. My son will be avenged."
"I already avenged your son," I said. "I killed his murderer. I paid his blood debt and left you the body of your enemy." I had said the words before--the last time he'd visited me, insane with grief. They had worked then. I could hope they worked now.
Leo blinked. The fire in his eyes seemed to flicker and die. Something else filled the void, a hint of some softer emotion--confusion, uncertainty, perhaps--swimming through the grief. He met my eyes, held my gaze with that hypnotic focus the very old ones have.
And he was gone. Just . . . gone. Air currents swirled hard after his passage. The vamps stared up at the child on the porch above.
"Come inside, Angie," Molly said from overhead, her voice rough with fear. "You too," she said to me, though she couldn't see me from her position. I heard boards creak, and the door to the veranda closed.
"He would have led us to murder a child," a female vamp said.
"He didn't know," another said, closing the kerosene container he had opened.
"He is the master. He should have known," the female vamp insisted. "He should not have led us here."
"Dolore," a third vamp said. I didn't know the word, but there was a hushed reverence in her voice that lent it importance. "We must decide."
"I will not chain my master," the fourth vamp said. "I will not. I warn you now. There will be war."
The four vamps looked from one to another. Then, as a unit, they turned to me. And stared. I felt the weight of their eyes, holding me in place, my cross held high.
"We will uphold the Vampira Carta," the woman said. "It is law."