The meeting was held in the downstairs conference room, necessitating only a short walk through the corridors. I had put on a pair of slim pants, my thigh rig, and a short-sleeved, dark copper sweater I found in my locker, which looked pretty good against my lighter copper skin tone. Black slippers. With my slicked-back hair and red lipstick, I looked striking. Not beautiful—I’d never be beautiful—but striking I could do. Striking was easy for tall, slender women.
When I entered the room, the chatter, heard through the door, stopped instantly. I moved to my place, Eli to my left, this time, and looked around the room, searching faces. Leo, Gee, and Grégoire were all missing. My heart stuttered painfully. The rest of the gathered were seated and wore remarkable expressions: a third of them looked expectant; the others looked either furious or gloomy, or a combo of the two.
I pushed my rolling chair away and stayed standing, leaning forward to balance some of my weight on my balled fists, a little like Leo had stood not so long ago. My gold double chain swung forward, the gold nugget and the wired lion tooth focals catching the light as they swung. I looked at Wrassler. “Update on Leo, Gee, and Grégoire.”
Wrassler leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his muscle-bound midsection. His face took an expression I didn’t know how to read, and his body was too far away from me to read his pheromones. “You broke Grégoire’s neck.”
I didn’t blink. I didn’t move. I didn’t even breathe. To my side, Eli still stood as well, and I could hear his breath tighten, but he didn’t move either.
“He’s never had his neck broken before,” Wrassler said, “and he’s unhappy.”
I still didn’t react.
“He’s also impressed. He says, and I translate his quote, ‘Our Jane fights well. She will not be killed in an Enforcer blood duel.’” Wrassler smiled, and now I could smell his satisfaction. “Word went out on Mithran social media that you brought down our best fighter. Now almost all the European Mithrans who had queued to fight you have backed down.”
A little zing of surprise shot through me. “Vamps wanted to fight me?” I asked.
“Ernestine was keeping a list of interested parties—blood-servants, and Mithrans—to be allowed to challenge you when the Europeans arrived. Ten of our own swordsmen wanted to test themselves against you in nonlethal matches. Five of our expected guests in Blood Challenge. Only the European Enforcers’ names remain on the list.”
“Rais—” I stopped in time. Raisin was my nickname for her, but might be interpreted as lacking in respect. “Ernestine was keeping a list of people who wanted to fight me?”
“Ernestine keeps all the lists,” Wrassler said. “And the pools.”
I shook my head in confusion. Beside me Eli asked, “So how many of you lost money when Janie kicked Grégoire’s butt just now?”
“About ninety percent of the people gathered here and about ninety-five percent of the city’s blood-servants and Mithrans.” There was a lot of satisfaction in Wrassler’s tone.
Eli said, “I’m guessing you were one of the few who were betting on Jane.”
Betting on me? Holy crap. These crazy people were betting on who would get hurt? A hot flush that had nothing to do with vamp healing went through me like a brush fire in a high wind. Trying to sound mild and not angry, I said, “How long before Grégoire’s spine is a hundred percent?”
Wrassler shrugged, evaluated my expression, and apparently found something there he hadn’t expected. He sat up in his chair and laced his fingers together on the large table. The springs in his chair squeaked. “Couple of days. Between them, Leo and Bethany can heal most anything. And if they can’t, then Katie can.”
I never thought much about Katie and healing. She had special blood since she’d been buried in a coffin full of mixed vamp blood. “Huh.” The sound was full of challenge. “And Leo? How long before he’s fully back to himself after the bite by the light-dragon thing? Just asking because he looked a little pale tonight.”
Wrassler, his tone now all business, sat straight and dropped his arms to the chair arms. The pheromones in the room changed too, all jocularity vanishing under the weight of my expression—whatever that was. “The priestess Sabina spent the last day with him,” Wrassler said. “He was pretty close to ninety percent until he fed Grégoire.”
“And Gee? He seemed fine on the gym floor beating my partner’s butt. Is the Mercy Blade the only one in a position of authority who’s up and at his best?”
“Gee’s fine,” Wrassler said shortly. Beside him, Derek sat straighter too, his face thoughtful. Across the table Adelaide Mooney shifted position as well.
“Del, are Leo and Grégoire up to speed on Satan’s Three? That they may be in town?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “They have not presented themselves to Leo, according to the Vampira Carta; therefore they are interlopers in his hunting territory,” she said formally, as if handing down a sentence against a lawbreaker. “You have carte blanche in any dealings with them.”
“Good. As part of Protocol Aardvark, I want Katie here on-site until Leo is fully recuperated. Once everyone is on-site, all travel is to be curtailed, and any travel that the vamps insist upon is to be by armored vehicle with standard three-vehicle precautions, a definite itinerary, and no deviation. And if you can distract them from travel, all the better.” We all knew that distract meant blood or sex. It didn’t have to be said. “Bethany is with Grégoire. I want blood-meals—the strongest blood we have in the city—for Leo and Grégoire until they’re fully healed and a hundred and ten percent. And whatever they need to be made totally well. If that means dragging the clan blood-masters to help, then that’s want I want to happen. I want this city’s vamps at full power in two days, without giving up the protection of Protocol Aardvark. I also need a private audience with Grégoire. ASAP. You have an hour before dawn to see that my orders—the orders of the Enforcer,” I corrected, “are carried out. Take whoever you need to get the people in place. Then get back in here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wrassler said, standing and motioning to three others at the table.
As they left the room, I went on. “The next person who wants to bet on me in a fight gets to fight me him- or herself. Personally.” I looked around the room. “In case you didn’t get it, a foreign creature got in to va—Mithran HQ and bit Leo. It messed with our minds and our memories. We have a parley with European Mithrans to plan for. The electrical system isn’t working properly. The elevator’s screwy. And we have someone in town targeting me, who I think is a rogue EuroVamp named Peregrinus.” That made them sit up and take notice. I could have added, And there’s something scary on the bottom basement level. But I didn’t say that, not until I asked some questions of the powers that be. There was a time for everything, and the thing in the basement wasn’t for now. “Peregrinus is Grégoire’s brother and we don’t have much data on him yet. I’ll be talking to Grégoire and others in HQ and will update those who need to know as I obtain info.
“For the record, I screwed up when I hurt Grégoire. Not because it was wrong to do my best, not because I should have let him win to be nice, but because timing is everything and this is not the time. We have a lot of crap going down, and while I don’t give a rat’s fuzzy behind what you bet on in downtimes, this is not that time.”
Del said softly, “Betting is expected among the Europeans.”
“Fine. When we get everything and everyone back into top shape, when the Europeans arrive on American soil, I’ll rescind my orders. Until then, I want you all to turn that excitement and energy to figuring out why we’re having brownouts and why the elevator is wonky. And if you have enough energy left after that, I want you feeding the Mithrans. Got it?”