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He stopped walking but didn’t turn around or come back. Even though chasing him wasn’t on the top of the list of things I wanted to do tonight, it looked like I didn’t have much choice. I cleared the distance at a jog, admiring how well the Jimmy Choo’s kept up. I’d taken my Choo’s through some pretty rigorous drills, and they never ceased to amaze me.
For six hundred bucks a pair, I should hope I could jog down a block and kill vampires in them.
When I was standing in front of him again, it was my turn to look pissed.
“What the hell is going on?”
“It’s nothing. I’m here. Let’s just go.”
“No.” I stood stock-still and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Don’t you have some sort of date I need to get you to?” His tone was cold and sarcastic but not angry. Under other circumstances I would have assumed he was jealous because I was going on a date with Lucas, the area werewolf king, but his voice indicated that wasn’t the problem here.
“Lucas can wait. What’s your problem?” Okay, so it sounded snippier than it could have, but if patience is a skating rink, I tend to stick to thin ice.
Holden grumbled and wouldn’t face me, which was unusual for him
even when he was being a grump. He stared out at the bustle of SoHo, the streets teeming with life in the midst of a cold February night.
“It’s Rebecca,” he said at last, huffing out the name as if it tasted bad on his tongue. Rebecca was a council elder, one of the highest-ranking vampires other than Sig, Juan Carlos and myself.
She was also Holden’s maker.
“Okay?” I responded, still not sure what his vampire-mother had to do with his surly demeanor.
“She wants me to demand a favor.” He gave me a pointed look, making me wish he’d kept avoiding my gaze. “From you.”
“Why didn’t she come to see us? We held open audience today. She could have asked us—”
“No, Secret. She doesn’t want a favor from the Tribunal. She wants one from you personally.”
A knot formed in my throat, and it hurt to swallow. I wish I could say Rebecca was out of line asking me for a personal favor, but the fact was I should have expected this a long time ago. It had been over two years, but I’d killed one of her children, and I was a fool if I thought she’d forget my execution of Charlie Conaway, sanctioned or not.
My partner, Keaty, had once told me every vampire death is a burden to their society, and the rogues I killed were part of someone’s family. Charlie had been Rebecca’s family, Holden’s family, and now I was going to be held responsible for his death. She couldn’t punish me, or call me out. I outranked her, and unless she wanted to challenge me in a fight to the death, she needed to be diplomatic about her actions.
So she got to me through Holden.
“What does she want?”
“It seems her consort is unhappy.”
“And I can correct this how?”
“I believe you know Genevieve Renard.”
The queen of the were-ocelots and entrepreneur extraordinaire. Of course I knew Genevieve Renard. Everyone knew her. I was aware she was involved with Rebecca, but I hadn’t realized it was so serious.
“What happened to Genevieve?” My tone grew serious. More than being acquainted with the ocelot queen, I also liked her immensely, and she was one of the rare exceptions where I believed she felt the same. If there was something I could do to help her, I’d do it without being forced by her vampire girlfriend.
“Rebecca was less than forthcoming with the details. She asked that I secure your assurances and—”
“Yes.” I could feel him building up to a big spiel, and I didn’t have the time for it.
He shot me a disappointed look, scolding me with his eyes for my impatience.
“What?” I replied to his unvoiced disapproval. “You came here to make a request on behalf of your maker. Request granted. Can you stop being such a grumpy bugger now?”
“Oh, Secret.” He hefted a sigh.
