“Do you have proof that Roberto sired Minh?” Valeria asked.
Antoine hesitated, but it couldn’t hurt to drop her name. Not now, when he’d laid all his cards out. “Proof? No. Lady Belle d’Aubigny told me.”
“Huh,” Valeria grunted. “Well, it fits.” She arched a brow when Lena glanced at her. “Don’t you remember? Minh was a toady little bastard at the Curia’s gathering, and Roberto was quick to support him.”
“Belle, you say.” Anastasia tapped her lip with one finger. “And why would she impart such critical knowledge toyou?”
“She’s his sire,” Valeria said quickly. “That’s it, isn’t it? My gosh, that explains your strength!” Her gaze lingered on him, lips slightly parted, the tip of her tongue teasing the lower one.
Antoine stayed silent, his attention on Anastasia, who watched him with open curiosity.
“He doesn’t outright deny it,” Lena observed. “That’s confirmation.”
“He didn’t deny it,” Anastasia agreed, “but that could simply be a ploy to make us persuade ourselves our error is truth.”
Valeria laughed. “What does it matter? Hereeksof power. Can you not feel it?”
Irritation flashed briefly across Anastasia’s face, an involuntary confirmation that she, unlike Valeria, could not in fact sense strength. She wasn’t alone in that; Antoine couldn’t either.
“If he had enough to take on Roberto,” Lena mused, “he wouldn’t be seeking our help.”
Antoine was tired of being referred to like he wasn’t present. “The question at hand is simple enough: do you want the Curia of Boston to be a vampire who acts as a dictator king?”
“The question is far from simple,” Anastasia said, her mild tone belying her disagreement. “We are vampires, not rebels, and strength is all that matters. Roberto has it; you do not.” She sniffed lightly. “Moreover, you have been banished.”
“As you may yet be,” Gabe added sharply, “as soon as you refuse him.”
She held his gaze, impassive and unflinching, as though to suggest it would never happen to her. But Antoine didn’t miss Valeria’s subtle narrowing of her eyes, or the way Lena looked thoughtful.
“It’s moot,” Anastasia said at last. “He is too strong to resist.” She turned her gaze to Antoine. “Until he is weakened, I cannot endorse this.”
He leaped at the offered branch. “Then you will, if he is?”
“Ifhe is,” she emphasized each word, “then you will have an ally, in exchange for a future favor owed.”
Antoine inclined his head. “I accept.”
She gave a small smile, rising from her chair as though the meeting were done, her two escorts flanking her. A crisp nod toward Gabe, and she gracefully walked from the room.
“Disappointingly inconclusive,” Gabe muttered when they’d left.
“I think we sowed the seeds,” Antoine said, contemplative. “They are sharks—put blood in the water, and they will circle.”
“Just make sure it’s not yours, my friend.”
Antoine chuckled in agreement. “But I have your support?”
“You don’t need to ask. Of course you do.” Gabe held out his arm, and Antoine clasped it.
“Why don’t we continue this at my place?”
“Sounds good. I’ve got a couple of matters to handle first, then I’ll be right behind you.” Gabe grinned, flashing fang. “We can figure out how to darken the water withRoberto’sblood.”
Forty-Two
Cally huffed in exasperation.
“What’s up?” Eve asked.
