More inflammatory talk. She was still trying to get the hang of vampire diplomacy. Maybe if you made it sound polite, anything was OK?
“What is or is not appropriate interest depends on your point of view,” Edward offered in his soft British accent. “I believe we have a legitimate concern about the future of such a large community of our brethren. A community to which you are a virtual stranger.”
“That’s the heart of it,” Bartholomew bellowed. His voice was as large as his person. “You’re not one of us.” He eyed Andreas with a dubious look. “You’re too young. I don’t think you have the power to rule.”
Andreas’s eyes flashed. “Your concern is noted.” He seemed to gather his next words. “Since you have all given formal notice of a challenge, I assume you intend to go beyond merely expressing your concerns. Therefore, I must digress long enough to make my own position clear.”
No one stirred.
“I will not abdicate the throne to any of you. Nor do I intend to share its management with you.” He held up one hand as Bartholomew started to speak again. “I am willing, even eager, to discuss an alliance and to participate in a larger community where all of you have an equal voice. A united Ontario province would be a much stronger territory. There is room for us all.”
“With you in the capital city.” Jamal’s mouth twisted in a sneer.
“Yes, that is a given.”
Ari didn’t like Jamal’s tone or his general attitude. He slouched in his chair, arrogant, disrespectful. He had not been prepared to listen to anything Andreas had to say.
Andreas wasn’t finished. He turned his head to pin Jamal with a daggered look. “This court is mine, Jamal, to handle as I choose. Rightfully won. I must insist you respect that.” He paused, as if prepared to force the issue, then seemed to change his mind. “Let us not squabble so early in the evening. There is always time enough to argue. Perhaps refreshments will clear our thoughts.”
At his words, several lycanthropes appeared with three large, round tables which they set on the main floor in front of the stage. Gold tablecloths were spread over each, glasses and bottles of wine, beer, and blood placed on top. Crackers, cheese and fruit were provided for those who ate such things. To Ari’s surprise, the vampires rose without protest and gravitated toward the tables. She joined them at what appeared to be an anticipated intermission. How come everyone but her seemed to know the program schedule? She watched as each of the bodyguards came forward and tasted the wine or blood before any of the four master vamps indulged. Not very trusting, these guys, but it was exactly what she would have done under similar circumstances.
She considered it just short of miraculous that conversation turned to mundane matters while drinks were served. Another part of vampire protocol? Or maybe the discussion was tabled simply because serving people were within the room. Despite the casual conversation and the bland, even friendly, faces, Ari sensed the tension in the room. She kept a wary eye on the rebels and their guards. Would the oh-so-polite hostilities reopen as soon as the servers disappeared?
“Have you no entertainment for us, Andreas?” Bartholomew’s voice rose above the noise.
“What, Bartholomew? You expected jugglers? I had not envisioned a social event. I could arrange a little music, if you like.” Andreas’s voice had grown careful, putting Ari on immediate alert.
“That will not be necessary. We brought our own amusement,” the giant vampire rumbled. He gestured toward the two robed human females. “Come, my dears.”
Ari tensed. This was trouble. She couldn’t imagine any amusement that involved human females was going to be acceptable to Andreas. Or to her. Keeping an eye on Andreas for his cue, she edged toward the door. Whatever happened next, she wanted Gilbert and his recruits available to back up Andreas’s position.
The women walked toward the bear-like vampire. With brittle smiles on their faces, they opened their cloaks and let them fall to the ground. The women were na**d, except for a red lace ribbon around each of their throats.
“What is this?” Andreas asked, his face expressionless.
“We have arranged a blood-letting,” Bartholomew said, watching his host. “An ancient tradition. As you can see, these women are willing donors.”
“Not tonight,” Andreas said quietly. “Not here. I have forbidden the sport within the confines of this court.”
“We had heard that,” Jamal said, swaggering forward. “But I, for one, thought someone was kidding. Such practices have been common for us throughout history. Are you actually forbidding one of our most sacred rights, the taking of human blood?”
“In this manner? Yes. You do not have the right to defy the treaties or demean another being. Blood-letting is punishable by execution.”
Jamal’s harsh laughter echoed in the silent room. “Are you afraid, Andreas? We’re not breaking any laws. These lovely creatures are here by their own choice. It’s no different than consenting sex. Not like the old days when our people took by force whatever they wanted.” His voice was wistful, yet taunting.
Ari froze in place. Jamal was deliberately picking a fight. She looked at the faces of the rebel group to confirm her suspicion: they had orchestrated this confrontation. She tipped her head at Lilith, and the lioness nodded. Trouble was about to erupt.
“We have a different view of willing,” Andreas said. He glided toward one of the women and stopped to study her face. “These women have been drugged or enthralled. Even if they were not, I still would not condone the entertainment you propose. Like consenting sex, consenting blood sharing should be private. It is not a public sport.”
“You are more foolish than I imagined,” Ezekial said. “No one will follow a leader who ignores the old ways.”
“It does seem a bit radical, old boy,” added Edward.
“Some of the old ways are no longer useful, they are merely old. Tell your women to cover themselves. There will be no blood-letting tonight.”
“Is this you speaking, Andreas? Or your witch?” Ezekial waved a hand toward Ari. “Are you bespelled? I have heard this one has great influence over you and is opposed to many of our rituals.”
Ari’s witch power flared. She ordered herself not to react, to allow Andreas to handle this. Her intervention would only prove the rebel leader’s point. He was right in saying she wouldn’t like vampires drinking blood from drugged, human women, but she couldn’t take credit for Andreas’s prohibition. He’d made the decision without any help from her.
And he told them so. “Whatever Arianna might think of this arcane practice, the decision was mine. Bloodletting is outdated and barbaric. It serves no practical purpose in today’s world.” Ari heard the steel in his tone. Andreas was on the verge of losing patience. She was afraid that was exactly what their visitors were waiting for. While she was deciding what to do, Gabriel must have read the same signs and plunged into the conversation.
“So true. Many other practices have passed out of usage from time to time. Take coffins, for instance.” He began a long, drawn-out litany of antiquated fads and protocols, some abandoned over time, others serving no purpose. Garlic sniffers, decorative whips, kneeling in court, gold fang caps. Ari turned a laugh into a cough as she saw boredom grow on the rebels’ faces. One or two tried to interrupt, but Gabriel refused to yield the floor. By sheer tenacity, his vampire version of a filibuster managed to avert a crisis. The atmosphere in the room was no less hostile, but Ezekial and his rebel group were thrown off their game plan.
As Ari checked the faces in the room, she couldn’t find Marta or Percy. Ari hadn’t seen either of them leave, but they weren’t here now. After Horatio’s phone call, Ari didn’t trust them out of her sight. She caught Lilith’s eye again and strode toward the door.
“You’re not leaving us, are you, witch? I hope it was nothing I said.” Jamal’s drawling voice brought her to a momentary halt.
“Not at all. I’ll be back shortly. Enjoy your drinks.” Ari smiled sweetly. Trying to look innocent was hard for her, and she hadn’t had much practice in the last ten years. She grew up looking so much like the wholesome, blonde kid next door that she’d worked hard on perfecting a tougher image. A witch in law enforcement had to look competent, command some respect. Now she found herself trying to reverse the process. She widened her eyes and blinked her lashes at him.
“Are we boring you?” he pursued.
OK, so he wasn’t going to make it easy for her to check on Marta. He was deliberately trying to keep her here. Or delay her. Ari’s witch senses went on alert, adrenaline spiking. She needed to get out of here, find the vampiress. ASAP.
Everyone in the room was watching by this time. Ari couldn’t think of anything better, so she gave him another vacuous smile and said, “Oh, no, not bored. But I’m going to have an accident if I don’t visit the little girls’ room very soon.”
Jamal’s mouth snapped shut. Lilith snickered, although she tried to smother it. Why does any mention of a woman’s bodily functions have that effect on men? Ari was afraid to look at Andreas. Laughter would be so inappropriate right now. But Gabriel wasn’t so inhibited. He burst out laughing.
Ari ducked her head as if embarrassed and hurried toward the door.
Most of the crowd lost interest immediately, but Jamal continued to watch her. Aware of his intent gaze on her back, she kept her head lowered and her mouth shut until she and Lilith escaped the room.
“Something’s going on,” Ari whispered. “Marta’s not here.”
“I saw her consort leave, and then Marta followed him. Is that a problem?”
“I’ll tell you while we look.” As they started checking the hallways, Ari related what Horatio had told her about the tail at the airport.
“Why would he follow us?”
“Makes me think he’s plotting something on his own or Marta’s not as supportive as she acts. I’ll feel better when I can lay my eyes on them.” When she did, she intended to keep them under surveillance. Better yet, maybe she’d lock them in an empty room until the rebels were gone. If they’d just stepped out for a innocent quickie, she could apologize later.