A bark of sound stole the silence. It took EJ a moment to recognize the sound aslaughter. Walter laughed again, but it wasn’t contagious; instead it was disbelieving, darkly amused, bitter.
EJ moved to the table and palmed amulets. Just in case.
Walter laughed louder, the sound echoing off the bare walls until it trailed away, and silence descended again.
“Walter?”
“Does your queen know what you proposed to me?”
“No.”
“I thought not.” Walter dropped his hands and slumped against the sofa back, eyes closed. “Boy, if we win this fight against Angelina’s ex-husband, and he and his sire, Terenzio Marrazzo, are removed from power along with their heads, your queen has reminded me that this city will change masters. She has formally offered the city…to me.”
EJ’s eyes dropped to the amulets in his hands. Small things clicked into place, and he set the feather and the stone on the tabletop. Toneless he said, “You’d be vampire Master of the City. With vamps and blood servants and blood-slaves.”
“No. Solo master: no scions, no blood family, except by temporary contract. I stipulated that, before I would even consider such a proposal. And…while the queen offered an enticement to me, she may offer a consulate to you.”
“I don’t understand.” But EJ feared he did.
“If she claims this building and you, it is possible that she will claim the entire city. That makes her political and/or personal hunting territory span from Charlotte, North Carolina,across the mountains of North Carolina, to Knoxville and Chattanooga, Tennessee—with the exception of your grandfather’s territory in Asheville. With one move, she would expand her territory and reclaim you and your sister. And claim me, at least on paper. And, if we are successful in taking down the vampire coven, and beheading Ravensport, the queen will become the de facto master of New York anditshunting territories, unless we chose to claim them by right of conquest.” Walter laughed again, that odd-sounding, almost grieving note.
EJ sat on a kitchen chair. He hadn’t looked at the potential offers from a vampire point of view. “Why wouldn’t New York go to us?”
“Your current position is contingent upon doing nothing that harms the queen. Allow me to walk you through the possibilities. First, if we found a legal way to challenge Ravensport, she would choose the weapons she loves best.”
EJ remembered the vids of the woman fighting. “Swords.”
“A challenge to Ravensport for Sangre Duello is contraindicated because you are not a skilled enough swordsman to defeat her without magic. I would have to challenge her and even I am unlikely to defeat her. Angelina’sbattle magicis unpredictable, making her unsuitable to fight. If any of us challenge her and die, the queen’s hand is forced. She would have to send her best swordsmen to take Ravensport down. If that swordsman or -woman survived, they would then have to challenge Konstantin, who would demand duel by magic.
“If we attack as a unit, without issuing or receiving a challenge, and without exigent circumstances, as Angelina’s detective would say, and are killed in battle, the queen could lose the city.
“If we take down the demon-magic-using enemies who stand against us, with no loss of life, and no public notification,the queen will be happy, but her banner may or may not still fly above the building. Her choice.”
“No matter what we do, we’ll be doing Aunt Jane’s dirty work,” EJ said.
“You will be doingthe queen’sdirty work. And while we may succeed, and have a type of autonomy, freedom is unlikely to remain open to us.”
“And we’ll be stuck with Shiloh.”
“She will be a very sharp weapon in your armory. The queen gave you her best assassin, a gift not to be underestimated.”
“Son of a witch on a switch.”
“At least your life won’t be dull.” The bodyguard sounded droll, as if life being dull was the very worst contemplation.
EJ could use a good dose of dull right now. And twelve hours of downtime.
Ojossent out a soft tone, the F flat breaking the acute silence. “EJ,” the system said. “Peg is sending video.”
“On screen. Audio up.”
On the wall screen was handheld video of the outside of the Sacred Heart of Mary Mission Church, which EJ took in at a glance: local gray stone façade, white steeple, two Gothic stained-glass windows and a Gothic front door centered between them.
In the video frame on the wall screen, the left window depicted Jesus in robes carrying a baby sheep on his shoulders, and in the right window, he led a herd of sheep. Both images had always been odd to him, as Jesus was supposed tobethe lamb, not carry it, and so far as EJ knew he had never been a shepherd. Unlike his own mother and his sister, EJ was no longer personally religious. He understood there were other, bigger, more powerful spiritual beings out there, but internalizingthem and worshipping them wasn’t something he was interested in experiencing.
Peg, off-screen, said, “Splintered front doorframe. Burn marks around the frame.” He zoomed in to show the marks then moved to the left, around the corner, boots silent on the snow except for an occasional icy crunch. The cam showed the left wall. “Side window busted out. Scorch marks on the stone. Faint smell of brimstone on the air, but old. Nothing recent. Lights on inside. Looks like fire or candles.”
He moved around back. The rear was different, the worship area having been added onto an old gas station. This part still had a service door for vehicles and two employee entrances, and it had been converted into a large kitchen for feeding the poor. This was the mission section of the church and was far larger than the worship add-on.
