34. Treaty Politics
Chapter 34
Treaty Politics
Ehukai Beach, Oahu—Moments later
T he woman laughed and clapped her hands together. “Yes, I do. And I know you’re married to a man who was a driving force behind the treaty. Not everyone wants to be part of a community. The ones like Jill must roam. You cannot fit her… How do you say? The square hole.”
It hadn’t occurred to Cerissa that forcing every vampire to join a community might hurt those who didn’t have the desire to settle in one place. Could individuals like Jill sign the treaty if they agreed not to create more vampires but retain their independence?
“You’re a member of the Hawaiian community?” Cerissa asked.
“Me? No. Any of my children would welcome me into their communities, but I prefer to travel the globe.” The woman landed her hand on Cerissa’s knee, her jeweled fingernails shining.
Startled by the touch, Cerissa pivoted in her beach chair to face the woman, knocking her hand away. Chills nipped down Cerissa’s spine, spreading over her arms and legs, her initial fear spiking again. Henry had mentioned his attacker wore jeweled fingernails, had white skin, and was shorter than him.
The stranger had all of those characteristics. And now Cerissa knew where she’d seen her before. On the front porch of her home—this was the person who’d delivered the stake.
Did the woman intend to threaten her? Every muscle in Cerissa’s body tensed. She was alone—all the other vampires surfed the waves while their mortal mates slept. Could she flash away in time?
Fast as a snake, the vampire wrapped her fingers around Cerissa’s wrist, covering her watch, and Cerissa froze, staring at the intruder, mapping her to memory.
“Relax. I mean you no harm.”
Cerissa gave a pointed look at the woman’s hand. “Then do you mind letting go?”
“Oh. Of course.”
The woman’s face looked relaxed—or was that the product of being an ancient vampire?
Cerissa ran a hand over her skin, brushing aside the strange feeling left behind by the stranger’s fingers. “What do you want?”
“I want to apologize for attacking your mate.”
Cerissa startled. “Why?”
“I thought he was imprisoning Jill. As I said before, I try to defend the unaffiliated. They have no one else to protect them. I saw him lock her in the cargo container. When he turned, I recognized him, and, knowing his involvement in the war, I thought he had captured Jill to destroy her.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I spoke to Jill on the ship—after I fought your mate, I circled back and let her out. I realize now I misunderstood what I saw.”
Cerissa unwrapped the towel covering her legs. If she had to leave quickly, she didn’t want to be trapped, in case the woman reacted hostilely to her next question. Not all vampires liked to identify themselves. “Who are you?”
“Most know me as Inanna.”
Another chill ran through Cerissa. She knew that name. “Jonathan’s maker?”
“I learned…my son hurt you. I’m sorry.”
Jonathan’s madness wasn’t Inanna’s fault, and Cerissa felt only sympathy for her loss of a child. “He kidnapped me and another woman to force Henry to fight a duel. He’d gone revenant.” She cocked her head to one side, thinking of everything Tig had told her. “Were you the one who broke into the Sierra Escondida police station?”
“I had to know the truth. I found his diary. After reading it, I realized he’d been losing touch with reality for some time.”
“Why didn’t you just ask Chief Anderson to see it? She would have briefed you, since you’re his maker and Jonathan had passed away.”
“Passed. What a gentle word. Evelina brutally killed him.” As harsh as Inanna’s words were, her tone was wistful.
Cerissa couldn’t quite tell whether Inanna was angry over Jonathan’s death or grieving the loss of her child. Maybe both. “Evelina was defending Jonathan’s child. Is that why you gave her the silver stake? Because she killed Jonathan? It’s a threat, or a warning, or—”
Inanna laughed softly. “Not at all. I sent the weapons as a thank you.”
Cerissa huffed out a breath. She had a hard time believing the woman’s explanation. “It’s not normal etiquette to send a dangerous implement as a show of gratitude.”
“I am so old. I forget the modern sensibilities.” Inanna averted her eyes and brushed her fingers over her shawl, straightening the fabric. “Perhaps I should have included a note. But the ancient ways—a vampire from a millennium ago would have recognized the gift. Solid silver is valuable, and a stake like that is a priceless way to defend oneself.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s one of the quickest methods to kill another.”
“But why? Why do they need a weapon at all?”
“To protect themselves.”
Now Cerissa was completely confused. She knew of no current threats. Or had the vampire dominance movement resurrected itself?
Inanna clicked her tongue. “There are dangerous creatures out there. More threatening to mortals than we are. I’ve been tracking them for centuries, but they are elusive.”
“Other than vampires?” Cerissa felt her eyes widen. The Lux knew of no supernatural predators. At least, she didn’t think the Lux were aware of any. “What creatures?”
“I’ve said enough. But do not worry about my gifts. I merely wanted my children armed and capable of defending themselves.”
“That may be. But someone has turned one of your gifts into an offensive weapon.”
Inanna’s brow furrowed. “I do not understand.”
“Someone killed Petar Petrov using one of your stakes.”
Inanna’s brilliant blue eyes pinned Cerissa. “When?”
“Uh—” Cerissa was married the evening of October twenty-first, and the murder occurred a few days later. Since Tig wasn’t sure whether it happened during the predawn hours, or after sunset, Cerissa gave the date instead. “October twenty-third.”
That covered both time periods.
Inanna opened her phone and tapped on a calendar app. “Before you accuse me of any crime—I can see the accusation in your eyes—I was in New York that morning, being loaded on a commercial jet as cargo by the local mortuary the Collective uses. So it couldn’t have been me.”
But she could have hired an assassin to commit the deed. Still, even if she wasn’t involved, she might help them narrow the suspect pool. “Who did you give the stakes to?”
“I commissioned twenty-two. I sent them to my children and those vampires who stopped Jonathan from wantonly killing again.”
“Well, someone used it to murder Petar Petrov—and he was tortured, too.”
Inanna looked aghast. “It was not in battle?”
“No. Petar was killed execution style, tied to a bed with silver chains. Doesn’t sound like a fair fight to me.”
“Perhaps he was going revenant?”
“No. I saw him a few nights before he was murdered. He performed magic at my wedding reception and was perfectly sane.”
“I see.” Inanna clutched at her shawl’s neckline, which had ruffled in the wind. “I will delve into this. If one of my children is the killer, I will find out.”
If Inanna wasn’t involved, and the note left with Petar’s body wasn’t about Jonathan, then what was it about? Cerissa brushed the loose hair back from her face. She’d have to think through that later. For now, it made sense to ask everything she could—she might not get this chance again.
“How many children do you have?”
Inanna shrugged. “Sixteen that are still alive.”
“How old are you?”
“Is that a question asked in polite company today?”
Cerissa lifted Inanna’s hand, pumping a bit of aura into her to make her cooperative, and studied her long, pointed fingernails. Pronounced ridges meant the affixed rhinestones sat at odd angles. “I’ve never met a vampire with fingernails this warped, and I’ve met some who have lived a millennium.”
Inanna shook her hand free and narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”
“I don’t understand.”
“When you touched me—I felt strange.”
“I’m sorry. I should have asked if I could examine your fingernails.” Cerissa took a sip of wine. “If you don’t want to tell me how old you are, it’s all right.”
Inanna scrunched her brow for a moment, and then her expression relaxed. “I’m three thousand years old, at least.”
Cerissa choked and dropped the wineglass. It shattered on the rocks lining the bonfire. A piece of glass bounced back and sliced her ankle.
Swiftly, Inanna kneeled and pressed the end of her shawl against the cut. “I did not mean to startle you. Would you like me to heal that for you?”
A polite enough offer under the circumstances, one Cerissa couldn’t accept, and a small white lie would have to do. “Henry will take care of it when he returns. But thank you for the offer. I’m sorry you stained your shawl.”
Inanna dabbed at the cut one last time. “Not to worry. I have many shawls.” Then she sniffed the blood. “Something about you smells familiar.”
“Maybe you fed on one of my relatives. We’re a large family.”
“Perhaps.” Inanna sniffed again, a peculiar look on her face, then stood and fished into her bag. She pulled out a business card. “If you are all right, I should be going. But take this. My answering service. I check in periodically. I owe Henry for hurting him. If either of you ever needs a favor, please call me.”
“Uh, thanks?”
“My pleasure.”
Inanna whooshed away then. Cerissa morphed the cut closed and started picking up the glass so no one else would injure themselves. During the day, she’d test Henry’s shirt and hopefully find Inanna’s V-DNA.
A surfer jogged from the water, returning to the beach. She recognized the coco bead necklace he wore and waved. “Hey, Kai.”
He stopped by her, holding his board, water dripping from his short hair.
“Do you know Inanna? She was just here a moment ago. Do any of her children live on the islands?”
“Inanna? Never heard of her. Are you sure she visits us?”
“Well, she chatted with Jill and then me, implied she’d traveled here before.”
“Hmm. That’s strange, but I don’t know her. I’ll have to ask my assistant if she sought permission from our community to be here. I’m going to go shower. Catch you later.”
Cerissa stared out into the night sky. Inanna was a puzzle, and not all the pieces fit. Her thoughts whirled and when they stopped, she landed on one piece of the puzzle: Inanna was a three-thousand-year-old vampire.
Could she be the mother of all vampires?