I cocked a hip onto the doorjamb, crossed my arms, and stared at the envelope in the vamp’s hand. “He sends his favorite slave as messenger boy? Can’t be good news,” I said. “Give me one good reason why I should accept the note.”
Edmund Hartley smiled, an act that turned his nondescript face into something almost human, and certainly charming. “Because I have healed you and those you love several times, without asking for recompense, or requesting you in my bed or your blood in my fangs in return. Because I am fascinating and intriguing and you are curious about my history and my life.” His smile twisted slightly on one side, indicating a mischievous side I hadn’t seen before. “Because you like me and we have become friends of a sort?”
All of those things were true, but I wasn’t going to give in so easily, not to a fancy note from Leo. I scowled at him. “Friends with a vamp?”
Like Edmund, Beast thought at me. Would make good vampire mate.
Down, Beast. We have a mate.
Beast chuffed with amusement.
“It is true that if we were locked in a dungeon together,” he said, an innocent, practically winsome look on his face, “I would certainly drink you down. But other than situations resulting in starvation, you are safe from me, I assure you.” He was teasing me. It was a novel conversation to have with a vamp.
I looked at the note. The previous note, delivered by Bruiser a long time ago, had been a scroll, tied with a ribbon. This one was inside a handmade envelope constructed from heavy cloth paper, and had my name written on it in Leo’s own handwriting, with a real fountain pen, all the scrolls and twirls and dips and stuff, like they used to write way back when. And like the last one, it was closed with a bloodred drop of wax and Leo’s seal.
I had been avoiding Leo and his messages and texts, which may be the reason he had sent a messenger. It was harder to ignore a human-shaped face than a beep or two or three dozen on my cell. I stared hard at the envelope, hoping it would disappear. It didn’t.
I was pretty sure that the note was a request—make that a demand—that I take up my responsibilities as Leo’s Enforcer, which I hadn’t done since I tracked and captured the Son of Darkness. I’d been hurt in that job and so had my team. We deserved some time off. But Leo probably thought a week was long enough, hence the increased number of unanswered texts and voice mails and phone calls. And now the note. Which was surely some form of orders, and I had never been partial to getting ordered around.
Leo Pellissier was a . . . I couldn’t think of a word bad enough to call him, even silently, except for corrupt CEO or debauched king. He was a high-handed, demanding, megalomaniacal, exacting, meticulous, fussy, taxing, body-part-of-your-choice fanghead. According to the contract we had signed, he was also my boss, or had been until the SoD incident less than a month ago.
“My master wishes you back in his employ.”
“Uh-huh.” I jutted out my jaw, thinking. I hadn’t even closed the door on the messenger or opened the dang note, and I was already mad. I snapped out my hand and Edmund snapped the envelope into my palm, practically choreographed. I broke the seal and pulled out the note, which was written on equally fancy, heavy paper. The note said:
My Dearest Jane,
As per our agreement, there are duties awaiting your return. If you wish a longer holiday, that can be arranged, however, the Clan Blood-Master of Bayou Oiseau, Clermont Doucette, has requested your presence. If you are not available to assist him I will send another.
I am placing the Mercy Blade and Edmund Hartley at your disposal.
Leonard Pellissier,
Blood-Master of the City of New Orleans
I grunted. Not too long ago, I had stopped over in Bayou Oiseau, a pretty little Cajun town on the banks of the bayou of the same name, and solved a problem that had been brewing between the witches and the vamps for a long time. After my visit, Leo and the chief suckhead of the town, Clermont Doucette, which was pronounced in the patois of the region as Clermon Doo-see, had been supposed to parley together and settle the long-standing difficulties between them, but I hadn’t seen Clermont in New Orleans, and Leo hadn’t gone south to Bayou Oiseau, so maybe any peace I had created between the two had evaporated after I left. That had been known to happen.
Both vamps had overly high opinions of themselves, and I could easily see where problems might arise. Leo was an even bigger predator than I am—and I’m half–mountain lion—and he could be a mite off-putting when he got into a snit. Clermont could too.
I held the note over my shoulder and it skated from my fingers, tugged away by one of my partners, Alex Younger, the younger Younger. The smart one of the team. The stinkiest too, when he hadn’t showered in a while, and he had been playing World of Warcraft for the last couple of days. Edmund’s nose wrinkled and he took a half step back before he caught himself. It was that nearly human reaction to the stench that made me chuckle and relax. I said, “I know, right?”