“John, certainly you don’t feel this way, too? You’ve worked for me for years.” Kept her alive more than once. Been with her through her divorce. Through the estrangement of her daughter. Every time the press had hounded her, he’d been there to shield her and protect her when no one else had.
John rose, his mouth a hard line. “I do, and until the situation changes, that’s how it’s got to be.”
She exhaled hard as his words sank in. “That curfew protects both sides.” He couldn’t leave her. She needed him. “You’re being ridiculous.”
John pushed his shades up onto his head and leaned over her desk, his hands firmly planted on the wood top. “You know what’s ridiculous? You put a good man to death this morning without cause.”
“A good man?” Did they really think that? Doubt curled through her thoughts, but she forced it away. The time for doubt was past. “That good man was a vampire. And my cause was the protection of the city. I cannot allow things to degrade any more than they already have. That man was a killer by nature. Now the rest of his kind will think twice before they take a life in this city.”
Luke straightened. “If being a vampire is a death sentence, when do you extend that to varcolai?” He shook his head. “He wasn’t even the one who broke the curfew. Your reasons don’t justify your actions.”
“I had the full support of the city councilmen, too.”
“Then they’re just as guilty.”
She jumped out of her chair. “Since the two of you were so busy planning your resignations last night, let me give you one more reason for my actions. Another vampire broke into this house last night and tried to kill me.” She pulled the scarf down on her neck. Their gazes went to the puncture wound. “I had to make a statement.”
“You made one all right,” Luke started, “but it doesn’t change our decision.”
“Fine.” She fixed the scarf back into place, picked up a pencil off her desk, and squeezed it. It was that or break down from the overwhelming sense of betrayal. She ground her back teeth together, drawing strength from the new anger the situation provided. “I don’t want anyone working for me who doesn’t want to be here.”
Without another word, John and Luke left.
She sank into her chair and stared blankly after them. Losing John was like losing a member of her family. She rolled the pencil between her fingers. The sense of being powerless to stop the chaos around her was overwhelming. Her stomach felt like it might rebel at any moment. She had to get control of things again. Had to stanch the bleeding before Paradise City was an empty husk.
The pencil snapped. Lola dropped the pieces. Enough was enough.
Tatiana leaned into the butter-soft leather desk chair and crossed her legs, the sound of her silk trousers like a summer breeze. After all the excitement of Svetla and the heightened sense of power the incident had given her, dealing with Damian should be easy. “Bring him in.”
Octavian nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you, my love.” Tatiana was not about to visit Damian again in his new quarters. He could come to her. In this space, no one would get the best of her.
Lord Ivan’s former office was impressive with its black marble, dark wood, and bronze furnishings. Many times she’d sat on the other side of this desk while Ivan held court about some new idea or grand scheme. Many times she’d dreamed of knocking him out of his chair and taking his power for herself. Never had she thought it would taste so sweet.
The new computer Octavian had purchased for her sat on one corner of the desk. A small light on the monitor’s frame blinked. Octavian would need a few minutes to bring Damian in, so she tapped the screen to bring it to life. The news site she’d selected as her home page opened up instantly. Keeping an eye on kine activity, especially now that they knew they weren’t alone in this world anymore, had proved less interesting than she’d expected.
One particular headline caught her eye. NEW FLORIDA PUTS VAMPIRE TO DEATH. She tapped the article to bring it full screen. Well, this was something. A video was imbedded. She tapped the screen again to play it.
The sound was off, but there was no mistaking the vampire suspended by chains between two posts. Malkolm. Her ex-husband. As she watched, a smaller figure dressed in black came into view. Then the video cut away to a reporter. Tatiana dragged her finger along the progress bar to fast-forward through the talking. When Malkolm reappeared, the sky had begun to lighten and the figure in black had pushed her hood back. Blond hair shone with a glow that only one creature possessed. A comarré. The comarré. Rapt, Tatiana stared as Malkolm sank his fangs into Chrysabelle’s neck. A frisson of joy shook Tatiana. Perhaps they would both die. Knowing Malkolm as she did made her intimately aware of the consequences of him drinking straight from the vein.
The comarré pushed away from him. He strained at the chains as sunlight crept up his legs. A car barreled up behind him, throwing a flash of light into the camera. When the light disappeared, so had Malkolm.
The video cut back to the reporter. Tatiana tapped the screen twice to darken it and sat back. Had she really just seen Malkolm die? The comarré would have no one to defend her now. If not for the blasted Dominus ball, Tatiana could swoop into Paradise City and take the comarré easily.
Before that fantasy went any further, the office door opened and Octavian shoved Damian through, his hands bound. A fresh bruise marked his cheek. “Bloody prat took a swipe at me.”