The short battle began to replay on the screen. Walter leaned close, watching every move.
I didn’t look at the screen. I watched our bodyguard. As his friend’s head fell again, I saw movement in his neck as Walter’s heart beat rapidly, an unaccustomed drumming in his chest.
“Julietta Ravensport will die a painful death,” he said, “along with Willim Yorath.”
I knew what an oath of vengeance looked like, how it burned. The power of magic in the oath.
“Next video,” Walter commanded the system, his heartbeat now gone, his body still as stone.
In it, Julietta Ravensport decapitated a vampire woman I didn’t know. Her secondo, I assumed. The timestamp was one week after the death of Yàn Zhao.
The third video was the duello with the Emperor of Europe, fighting as the vampire primo to the blood clan leader of Clan Yellowrock. Edmund had come to the United States to defend his clan leader, a lowly position, one based on love and chosen family.
The battle took ten seconds. In the first nine seconds, Edmund the First cut her to slivers. Walter’s eyes lit, as if he was pleased with the punishment, though his expression could never be described as a smile.
He said, “I must send Edmund a very pricy gift for the wounds he delivered.”
In the tenth second, the finest swordsman in the world beheaded his opponent, Ravensport. Or almost. She stepped back at the last moment. She fell, her head attached by a sliver of her spine and a bit of tissue.
Edmund’s scions crowded him away and carried him fromthe field of battle. No one beheaded her fully. Instead, Ravensport’s scions rushed in and took her away as well, carrying her head and body carefully.
“His people were too concerned about the emperor and not enough concerned with the duello. Ravensport disappeared from public view,” Walter said. “Two years later, she had healed and began to fight her way up the chain of command and into the position of Master of the City of New York. And now she has aligned with Angelina’s ex-husband.”
“She’s aligned with someone with access to demon containers,” EJ said, “and too many of our enemies.”
I had no doubt that everyone had been informed: the queen, the Emperor of Europe, the Everhart-Trueblood coven, our grandfather Lincoln Shaddock, Vampire Master of the City of Asheville and Surrounding Hunting Territories.
Vampire politics were always layered and compacted. Every step into them could be deadly.
Walter closed the screen.
Chapter Nine
Angie
My stomach was a sour burn as I put it all together.
This case wasn’t just a missing woman. There were too many powerful players involved in what was an attack on the queen, on Walter, and on me. It was a high-level conspiracy that EJ, Walter, and I couldn’t handle alone. The only reason we knew about it was Tony Montgomery’s failure and Londyn’s jealousy.
If it came to a Sangre Duello, there was no way I could defeat Ravensport without my undependablebattlemagic. Battle magic was internal, not a working or a curse. It was something I was. If could access it. Without it, I would die. EJ and Walter would die.
I pressed my bad hand to my middle, swallowing down fear and acid.
I needed reinforcements, and though I knew it was necessary, it still stung. I had to make sure we all survived, and despite what our attackers might think or guess, I had weapons to put in play.
With my good hand, I sent a note to Alex on my unicom:There’s a gold and quartz medallion, one that is likely still in Asshat’s bedroom. I’m getting ready to activate it. It will send you theaccumulated video of everything it recorded in that room in the last 365 days. It overwrites all older video, after that. No audio.
Instantly, I got a text in return:Da-yum. When did you plant that? Never mind. Gimme gimme.
I added:If anyone is in that room, they’ll know they had a watcher. They’ll know it was me, since I gave him that medallion on his birthday the year we married. I infused it with a passive working the day I left. There’s no way to reactivate it. Once I send, it’s done.
Understood, he replied.Send.
Walter turned to me and breathed in two quick sniffs. There were some things it was difficult to disguise from a vamp. Scent was one. “Angelina,” he said, going all mesmeric vampire. “What are you doing?”
When I didn’t reply he said, “We have used the standard of the queen, Angelina. We cannot interfere in politics.”
I punched a code into my unicom.Vengeance delayed.It wasn’t sweet. It was a musty bitterness caught in my throat.
