“We all know about the drop-off in numa activity since Lucien’s death. It’s as if they’ve disappeared. But why? What could they be waiting for?”
“May I?” Gaspard asked, raising a trembling finger and facing us. “They’ve always been undisciplined in the past. Although Lucien was their leader, he could never seem to stop them from occasionally acting on individual initiatives. But, as we’ve mentioned, judging from their recent behavior, we suspect they may have a new leader—one who is actually able to keep them under control. And Violette has now confirmed that suspicion.” He waved a hand toward the revenant beside me, as if handing her the mic.
“I can not say that it is exactly ‘confirmed,’” Violette piped up. “But there have been rumors. My sources have mentioned a numa from overseas—from America, more specifically—who has begun positioning himself as an international leader.”
There were exclamations of surprise around the room. Ambrose spoke up. “I’ve never heard of something like this. I mean, we have our international Consortium, but the numa? I can’t even imagine it. It’s not in their nature to work together.”
Violette nodded. “I agree that if it is true, it is unprecedented. But from what I have heard, the numa in question was a man of great power during his lifetime. People trusted him with their fortunes, and he deceived them all, sending many to ruin and several to suicide.”
“How did he die then?” I asked.
“Killed in prison,” she replied simply.
“So what’s this mean for us?” asked Jules. For once, his expression was serious.
Jean-Baptiste took the imaginary podium. “Violette has her sources, and we hope that they continue to feed her information. But we can begin to contact our kindred elsewhere to see if they have heard anything else on the matter.
“In the meantime, we should strengthen our defenses. Step up our surveillance. And, as I discussed with a couple of you, I am lifting the ban on offensive—” I felt Vincent’s body tense behind me, and as Jean-Baptiste’s eyes flitted to him, the older revenant stopped in the middle of his sentence, casting the room into an uncomfortable silence.
“May I interrupt at this point?” came a melodic voice from across the room. Everyone stared at its source. This was the first time I had heard Arthur speak: He was constantly brooding away in some corner, scribbling in a notebook. Everyone else seemed just as surprised by this uncharacteristic outburst.
Arthur shot a look at Violette, who clenched her jaw and glared at him. Okay, I thought, this must have something to do with the argument I interrupted.
“Perhaps I am stating the obvious, but we are discussing sensitive strategic information in the presence of one who is not of our kind.”
What? The blood drained from my face as I felt everyone stealing glances my way. I stared at Arthur, but he avoided my eyes, smoothing a blond lock behind his ear, as if he needed to do something with his hands.
Vincent’s hands clamped my shoulders like steel vises. I looked up to see that his face had turned to stone, and had a hunch that if revenant superpowers included shooting flames from their eyes, Arthur would be a revenant barbecue.
Everyone was silent, waiting. Arthur cleared his throat and glanced back toward Violette. Her tiny fingers clenched the arm of the couch, her fingernails digging into the leather.
“Although I allow that humans have interacted with us throughout history, except for the rarest of cases, like our own Geneviève’s marriage, serious interaction with humans has always been on an employer-employee basis. I realize that this human has done you a service by killing your foe. But I must question her presence in a tactical meeting involving the protection and survival of our own.”
He might as well have slapped me in the face. Tears came unbidden to my eyes, and I wiped them angrily away. Within a second Jules and Ambrose were on their feet, facing Arthur like they were in some kind of gang rumble. Vincent pulled me back toward him as if he could physically protect me from Arthur’s words.
Arthur held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Wait, kindred. Please hear me out. I do not know Kate as well as you, but I have seen her enough to know she is a good and trustworthy human.” He finally dared to meet my eyes, and his look was apologetic. I didn’t care. Apology not accepted. “I am not suggesting that she is not welcome here among us,” he continued. “Only that she not be involved in this meeting. For her own safety, as well as our own.”