Chapter Fourteen
Die Mitte was a different animal during daylight hours. Humans who served as daytime help ran things while the Vampires were at rest. They were the most loyal of all staff to be trusted in such a way.
She’d been attacked—more than once—at Die Mitte by Vampires. Never a single time by a human.
That afternoon John Liu, Clive’s human head of security, was at the front desk and when he saw her, he stood at attention.
“Stand down, John. I’m here to see the wolf shifters, please.”
“I heard what happened with that asshole Eduard,” John said, sneering as he said the Vampire’s name. “We had to watch the footage. More than once, you know, so we could be up to date on what was going on here. That chop to his neck was beautiful.”
Rowan chuckled. She hoped tales of just how soft Eduard had been had already spread like wildfire.
“I don’t want to talk to him just yet. But if you have anything to share regarding Jacques and Elmer or these Sanguis jackwagons, I’d appreciate the information.”
“I do have the report of the search that was done at Eduard’s apartment and through his work computer. Patience sent it to me with instructions to get it your way when you came to see the prisoners.”
It was...not altogether awful that Patience had done something helpful. On purpose. Though certainly Clive would have ordered all relevant information be turned over to her, they didn’t have to make it easy.
And... Rowan and Patience had a complicated history. Mainly it was that Patience wanted to bone Clive and instead, Clive had gone and hitched his wagon—and his bone—to Rowan. Nearly four years in though, the two had come to an understanding. Patience didn’t have to like Rowan’s place in Clive’s life. But she respected it. Rowan had earned that respect by being the sort of partner he was to her. She’d give her life for Clive and had not only protected him, but Vampires, over and over. In return, Rowan had come to grudgingly respect the courage and honor Patience had shown. She’d fucked up a time or two and Rowan had been the one to call her out. But she’d taken the critique to heart and had adjusted her training and the way the security teams within Clive’s domain were run.
This information was a peace offering.
She took the packet from him. Humans, she could thank. So she did.
He nodded. “I’m always at your service, Ms. Summerwaite. As for your questions? I wasn’t up here while Jacques was Scion. I worked downstairs with the human guests mostly. My predecessor in this job had a different set of priorities and was very close to Jacques.”
“I know.” She’d killed that human right before she’d killed Jacques. He’d come at her, shooting. Rowan didn’t much like having to kill human servants. But it had been her or him and she’d made sure it had been him.
That was all unsaid, but given John’s expression, he knew that.
“Good riddance to them both,” John said. “Even in those days I saw Elmer get into the elevators up to the private floors more than once. He was a sort of body man for Jacques. He’s not a good Vampire. He likes hurting weaker beings. He used to visit the house, I’m told.”
Jacques’s ridiculous house had been an over-the-top nightmare. The things he’d done there were even worse than the terrible decor. The humans she’d been able to free that day were still fucked-up despite years of treatment.
“I’m real pissed at myself for not knowing Eduard was a spy. I knew Jacques had Made him. I knew he was part of that circle. But that’s Vampires for you. When the new Scion came, some stayed. And thrived. But many of the inner circle of the prior one left this territory.”
Rowan wanted to laugh. Those Vampires who’d been in Jacques’s closest service had scattered like roaches. Not only because Rowan had killed their boss, but because Jacques’s sins against the Vampire Nation had been made known to the First. A few of them were still alive. She’d lay odds Recht, one of Theo’s Five, knew the location of every one of the remaining cronies who’d suffer a few centuries at the very least of being suspected and surveilled by the First.
Rowan blew out a breath. “Just because a Vampire is Made doesn’t mean they automatically believe all the same things their Maker does. And a Scion being replaced is a rarity to be sure, but the Vampires who hold large territories in the Scions change up regularly. This is what they do. And sometimes, well, no, all the time, there are political spats high-ranking Nation Vampires have to deal with in their regions. Even former friends can become enemies. Again, this is what they do.”
John nodded. “Understood. But I’ll be twice as suspicious next time.”
“Good. That’s how it goes. Were you friends with Eduard?”
John tried valiantly not to sneer so Rowan accepted that answer.
“This Sanguis Principatus business? Now and again, it would pop up. In a whisper like they’re something to be awed over. Also in derisive tones, if you catch my meaning.”
Vampires did love power and position. Not as much as they loved gatekeeping so no one they thought was unworthy got much of those things.
“But I’m in the employ of the Scion. I run the daytime security operations of this building. I’m not a person who gets included in any sort of Vampire supremacist organization activities or gossip. I do, however, get sought out by those who have been told or invited and found whatever they were told to be so dangerous or repugnant they felt the Scion needed to hear it.”
Rowan did like the idea of Vampires feeling protective of their Scion.
“If you remember anything else, or can think of someone who’d be willing to talk with me about it, let me know.”
“Got it. So, I saw on social media there’d been an explosion at a house and when they said the address, I realized it was the Procella mansion,” he told her.
She went with frank. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you without making a political mess because none of the Vampires in this territory will know this for another three hours. The First knows. I’ve spoken with the Voice.”
John’s brows rose quickly.
“It’s fine. He’s been assured I’m unhurt.” Unhurt adjacent because her hip ached like a motherfucker. Still, if Theo got into a place where he decided he had to come to Las Vegas to see to her safety himself, the potential for things to get dire very quickly was high.
It would be hard to enough to deal with Clive when he awoke for the evening.
“And Mr. David?” In his gaze, Rowan saw he worried she might lose another person she was close to.
“Fortunately, everyone on our team is all accounted for and unharmed. There’s no way for Hugo or Sergio to know this yet. I want to be the one to tell them. Which means if Felix shows up or anyone from outside—other than Ms. Aubert or her father—attempts contact, they need to remain sequestered. I’ll tell them when they need to know, but that’s not now.” There’d be a time when it would get her somewhere.
“I’ll make a note in the logbook here and when Patience comes on at eight, I’ll tell her myself. Will you inform the Conclave guards, or shall I?”
“Konrad has been in contact with them so that’s handled. I’m just going to pop in on Sergio and Hugo. Just to poke at them both. And then I want to chat with some wolves.”
Twenty minutes later, she walked out. Rowan hadn’t bothered with an interview room for either Procella. She wanted the sameness to drag on them. Wanted them to sit in the reality that they had no power whatsoever in the situation. It was working. Sergio’s argumentativeness had softened past sullen and into hopeless. Soon enough he’d break down. Then she’d pounce.
“I’ll come back tonight,” she told John.
At the doorway to the interview room Patrick Shank waited in, something caught Rowan’s eye, a flash of light. She went to her haunches to examine it closer.
“What is it?” John asked.
“It’s,” she picked it up with a pair of tweezers from her tool pack, “a dick. A metallic phallus. Ha!” She stood and John leaned closer with a laugh.
“I know what that is. One of our people is getting married and is having bachelor party. It’s penis confetti. They were put in the envelopes for all the invitations. I spilled some when I opened it too.”
“When did these invitations show up?”
“Today. About two hours ago when he got to work. Shift change. You know.”
Rowan nodded.
“You want to see the feed for the time between when he got to this floor and now? It shouldn’t take too long.”
Clive had made an excellent choice in this human. Efficient. He anticipated what she’d need and provided it. All while controlling what data was shared with an outsider. Even an outsider married to their Scion.
At his station, she sat at his side as John scanned the surveillance in that time frame and then sat back. “Here. The human male in the center of this group of three walking down this hallway? That’s Matthew. The guy who’s getting married.”
They watched as the two others with Matthew opened their envelopes and one of them spilled tiny glittery wieners they all tried to pick up.
“Looks to me like how it got there was innocent enough,” she said. She wanted to soothe John’s worry.
But it was absolutely no coincidence that she found it right outside the interview room where Patrick waited.
Over the last weeks she’d been having prophetic dreams and waking fugue states. Various symbols echoed through them that had led to the Procellas over and over. Storms at sea. High waves. Waves battering shorelines. Empty spaces like malls and schools. And confetti. She’d gone back and forth on the meaning and symbolism of confetti, but those sparkly little dicks had been a metaphysical arrow pointing at the wolves.
Just to be totally certain, she had a brief chat with Matthew and a few others. Everything they said backed up what she thought had happened. She made a mental note to have a present sent to the wedding.
And then she went to talk to Patrick Shank.
He didn’t complain he’d been kept waiting. Rowan was fairly certain he’d been in jail or prison at some point because he seemed very at ease with the truncated freedom of incarceration. So she commented on it.
“Doing time is doing time.” He shrugged, answering her question with a nonanswer that worked just the same.
“I imagine doing time here instead of county is preferable. Especially when you don’t have to pretend you’re not a being that can shift into an animal form.”
He shrugged again.
“I just stopped by to see if you were feeling chatty about the Procellas. They’re here too, by the way.”
His blank mask faded, replaced by...satisfaction. Well. She couldn’t blame him really. They’d fucked him and his crew over, and he’d fucked his own family over because of it.
“What do you want to know?”
“Has the Shank family worked for the Procellas before?”
“Yes. For years now. My dad used to do jobs for him before we were born. Mainly body work. Rough someone up. Burn their shit to the ground. Extortion. That sort of deal. The grandson? The one who wanted to move the hit on you up?”
“Hugo.”
Patrick nodded. “Yeah, that little fucker. He hired us to find some women a time or two. One had run to London. The other to Manhattan. Both had high security protection.”
Rowan sat, seething. It hadn’t been enough that Hugo had tormented those women, he’d continued to do so after they’d reached an agreement with the family that he would stop.
“Did the family have to pay for that? I mean, I’m certain you’re aware the Procellas were ordered to cough up a lot of money to pay those women off because of Hugo.”
Patrick laughed and Rowan was glad. It meant she didn’t have to feel bad for whatever was coming this shifter’s way when she was finished with him. She curled her lip.
“We informed the old man about it before we made a move. We didn’t do anything without his say-so. He told us not to supply the exact locations to Hugo, but that we could give him surveillance photographs of the women.”
Each new thing she learned about Hugo made her hate him more. Keeping him off the streets would make a lot of people safer.
“What else have you done for them?”
“I’m not doing this for free,” Patrick countered.
That made her laugh so hard tears came to her eyes before she managed to say, “I’m not paying you shit. You don’t have the power to make demands like that. We both know I don’t need you to handle this. There are other shifters in these cells.” She wiped her eyes and sobered a bit. “Your information will help bury the witches who fucked you over, paid you in magic paper, and exposed your failings to your father and uncle, who, I’m given to understand, are the ones who control everything within the Shank pack. Maybe they’ll even let you come home again if you do this right.”
They totally wouldn’t, but she didn’t care.
An hour later, her head hurt so severely she texted David, asking him to come to Die Mitte to drive her home. She’d hit her limit, and it wasn’t such a surprise. She’d been gravely injured less than a week before. All the goddesses, Scion blood, and excellent medical care in the world wasn’t going to heal her instantly. It was happening but at an accelerated rate. That was why it seemed like all she did was eat and sleep.
“ Deesse ,” he murmured as he caught sight of her. “Are you certain we shouldn’t be taking you to see Dr. Jenkins? Or upstairs to the Scion’s apartments? You can rest there until you’re ready to move elsewhere.”
“I’m fine. Dr. Jenkins told me headaches might happen as I heal. If I’m not better when I wake up from a nap, I’ll call her. I promise.”
She pretended not to see the look David and John shared. She held that pretense in place even as her vision had begun to gray at the edges. It wasn’t just a headache. That heavy blanket of unconsciousness that frequently came with her prophecy dreams had begun to descend.
Rowan needed to get home. Be safe. Before the dream settled in.
“I just want to rest,” she told David. “Then I’ll tell you about this afternoon with Patrick Shank.”
He drove quickly home and once there, Elisabeth clucked and Betchamp stepped to Rowan’s other side and helped David get her to her bed, complete with pulling her boots off and placing a lightweight blanket over her body.
The last thing she remembered was the familiar thump on the mattress followed by the warm weight of Star, who’d jumped on the bed and laid herself over Rowan’s legs.