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“They were vampires. They were… us.”
Wrath’s brows dropped under his wraparounds. Okaaaay, now he got it. “Have the families been notified.”
“The identity of the most recent one—well, ‘ones,’ probably—hasn’t been established yet—”
Rehv spoke up. “All of the males had documented histories of violence and criminal behavior. They fucked around and found out. That’s what it is.”
Nodding in agreement, Wrath asked, “When did this happen?”
“About a week ago.” Xhex came forward, and there was a thump-and-rattle on the floor in front of Wrath. “And then a week ago. And… last night. So I’m turning this in.”
Flaring his nostrils, he noted the scent of gunpowder. “It’s not my birthday. What’s with all the weapons.”
“I’m disarming myself,” the female announced, “and whatever has to happen to make this right—I accept.”
Wrath opened his mouth to tell her to come-on-get-fucking-serious.
But then he thought of Saxton leaving. And slowly closed his piehole.
For the majority of his adult life, he had walked away from his birthright—birth demand, really. It wasn’t like he’d volunteered to be the son of his First Family parents, and after watching them get slaughtered in front of him as a young, he had bolted from his responsibilities. And that had been true both in the Old Country, and after he came over here, to Caldwell.
Meeting his Beth had changed everything, and year by year, he had pulled the species back together, revising the Old Laws, establishing order, resuming traditions.
And that meant that whereas in the not-so-distant past, Xhex offing a couple of assholes who were hurting other people wouldn’t have been an issue—now? He’d made rules about homicide. What kind of leader would he be if he bent them in favor of somebody he was close to?
A bad fucking one.
“I’m going to have to get V to look into the deaths,” he said in a low voice. “I need to follow the procedures I’ve set up.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” Xhex cleared her throat. “I imagine it’s going to take him some time, so I’m going to go away for the duration. And again, whatever you decide, I will accept.”
He believed that. He could scent her intention. But there was something else.
“What aren’t you telling me.” When there wasn’t an immediate response, he shook his head. “You’re gonna want to get it all out right now. Trust me.”
There was another long pause. And then, in a reedy voice, “I have no memory of the killings. None… I literally had to go through Basque’s security footage to find out when and where I intercepted the last one.”
There was a sharp whistle and then some soft brushing noises, and Wrath kept quiet as John Matthew communicated with his mate using ASL.
“He, ah…” Xhex murmured something—and got another whistle in response. “John wants you to know that the male… the male I killed last night drugged and raped a woman he met in the club.”
As Wrath became aware of a loosening of his own tension, he had to cop, at least to himself, that he wanted there to be a good reason for it all. The amnesia? He didn’t fucking know about that—but as long as there was a justification?
Except he couldn’t go very far down that route. In this situation, he was the King, first and foremost, and a person second. His feelings could notcome into play. And if she was going off, with no memory? As some kind of vigilante?
That was going to be a big problem for everybody.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” Xhex said roughly.
Well, that was a “No” if he’d ever heard one. “Can you talk to Mary? One of the other therapists at Safe Place, maybe?”
“I’ll be fine. This is the first step… I have to take.”
He wanted to tell her she should stay put in her own damn bedroom back with the rest of everyone. But if she was killing and blacking out? Fuck, what the hell was going on with her.
“We need to be able to get in touch with you,” he said.
