But I wasn’t going to let it stand as totally my doing, because no way was that the truth. At the same time, I also didn’t want to provoke him unnecessarily. It was one thing to annoy the alpha predator over the phone, and totally different to bait the vamp in his lair. I said, carefully, “You used me and my presence here to achieve some important goals.”
He shrugged elegantly, his head, shoulders, and arms moving as if choreographed. “I am the creature that nature and the Mithran blood has made me. I make efforts to rule with fairness and compassion, but I am not afraid to use the skills and abilities and people at my disposal as I see fit to accomplish ends that will keep my people and my lands safe.”
Behind him, the door opened. I smelled Bruiser’s scent even before he appeared. He was wearing a new cologne, subtle and citrusy, applied with the light hand of someone who lived with predators who had an excellent sense of smell and an aversion to strong perfume.
He entered the office proper and stood in the opening, his hands behind his back, as if at parade rest, though as far as I knew, he had never been to war. He gave a smile, his lips pulling slowly as he took in my boots on the table, my slouch, and Leo’s studied patience. “Leo. Jane,” he said, acknowledging us both, in order of social and dominant importance.
Bruiser—George Dumas—was elegance itself, some of that refinement coming from the upper-class British upbringing, and some from his years acting as Leo’s chief blood-servant, head of security, and Enforcer. Leo’s real Enforcer, as opposed to my part-time job as imitation Enforcer. Tonight he was dressed in slacks and a starched shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show his arms, lean and muscled, and worn, brown loafers, no socks. Which made me smile for reasons I didn’t bother to try to understand.
“Sit, my primo,” Leo said. When Bruiser sat beside me, Leo went on. “We have several things to discuss. First is the illness of several blood-slaves. It is not the plague. More . . . much like the common cold that is apt to infect humans who do not drink regularly.” To me he said, “George is attempting to discover if they share anything in common. Worse is the disappearance of a Mithran in what appears to be a hoax or perhaps a kidnapping. I speak of this only to keep you informed,” he said to me. “I do not wish you to engage in the search or the investigation at this time. George will deal with this issue. I have other needs for you.
“Tonight at dusk, I will receive a communiqué from the European Council. There have been rumors of what the call might mean, but rumors are faithless things, promising much and delivering little.” I almost smiled at that, but he went on. “There will be a meeting of the full New Orleans Mithran Council just after midnight to discuss this call.” He looked at his primo as he spoke and Bruiser nodded, understanding some unspoken command. “At that time, I will schedule a gather to announce to the clans the European plans and rulings, as well as to present the new Mithrans who have risen this season.”
To me he continued. “I wish you to oversee the security for this gather. In-house protocols, safety measures for parking, vetting the waitstaff, and overseeing the caterer’s arrival and exit.”
A gather was a meeting peculiar to vampires. A powerful vamp could announce a gather and command all the vamps who had sworn him allegiance to show up. Then it was like—and yet very unlike—a democratic meeting. They might party, drink a few humans, maybe have a little sex, because for vamps, dinner and sex went together, or they might get right to business and discuss. Said discussions were not always peaceful; some required persuasion and a battle of compulsive power. Then the gathered would come to some conclusion and act. At least that was what had happened at the gathers I’d seen. “Okay,” I said. “Standard security?”
“More than that. Many things may change in the next months and announcements will not all be met with joy.” His voice went steely. “There should be no repeat of the events of our last soiree.”
My lips tightened involuntarily, and I knew Leo saw the small movement. I had screwed up at the first vamp shindig I worked. Werewolves had gotten in by leaping from roof to roof and busting in through the stained glass windows in the ballroom. I had since figured out how they had gotten in and placed more security cameras to cover the roof system and the walls outside the grounds, and while no one could fault me for not knowing that werewolves could leap forty feet, my security measures had still been insufficient. I nodded once, feeling a bit as I had as a kid being reprimanded by a very proper and intimidating principal.
“We have arranged for enough human warriors to keep my people peaceful and safe,” Leo said. “Derek Lee has been informed that you will be contacting him, and will need his men. There is a meeting of the full security team tonight before dusk. At the meeting, Derek will place himself and his men under your command.”
Leo always meant more than just what was said, and my eyes narrowed as I took all that in. Derek was placing himself and his men under my command? I’d gotten the impression that he’d rather eat dirt than take orders from me again. It would undoubtedly tick off the former Marine . . . which could be fun. I should bring popcorn. Wisely, I didn’t say that.
Leo turned his Frenchy black eyes to me. I felt their weight and the leashed power in him as he added, “At the gather, you will be acting as my true Enforcer.”
If I’d been in big-cat form, my pelt would have spiked up. Leo had tried to make me his true Enforcer once before. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience. But he had said, You will be acting as my true Enforcer. Acting. Not actually being. I glanced at Bruiser, who had polite interest on his face. It wasn’t the expression of a guy who had just been fired in favor of the new girl in town. But something felt wrong with all this—wrong in a “Jane is about to be hoodwinked” kinda way. And Beast didn’t like it, which was odd, because she was bound to the MOC and should be happy about anything that brought her closer to him.
To make certain that Leo was saying what I thought he was saying, I said, “I won’t permit you to force a feeding from me again.” It came out half growl, and my upper lip curled to show my teeth as Beast leaned in hard, showing her displeasure at the memory of pure predatory dominance. “I will not be bound to you against my will.” Bound more, but I wasn’t saying that part, since Leo didn’t know. “I’ll stake you or die trying.”
Leo looked away and back up quickly. In a human that might have been a tell, a physical tic that indicated stress or a lie or— “Primo. A moment of privacy, please.” Bruiser glanced from me to his boss and stood, gave a formal-looking nod that could have been a modified bow, and silently left the room. When the door shut behind him, Leo said, “I wounded you. I am sorry.”
I sat up in my chair and put my feet on the floor. “Say what?” I felt Beast pawpawpaw into the forefront of my mind, and I breathed in through my mouth, taking in the MOC’s scent. He wasn’t lying. There were no stress hormones on the air. If anything, I smelled something that might have been called meekness, if such emotions had a scent at all. Inside me, Beast chuffed with confusion and flicked her ear tabs.
“A master,” he said, studying his hands on the desk, “does not force his will upon others to feed or to bind. A master does not use violence on those under his care without need. A master, by definition of the word, should never have to resort to such methods.” His hands went flat to the table as if holding himself down, and his eyes went unfocused. As if memories carried him to places he’d rather not revisit.