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As vampires rose to object and guards stepped forward with katanas drawn, they made a river of black around the edges of the room, a barrier between the vampires and the rest of the world.
My first thought was for the guards—vampire and human—who’d been engaged to protect the floor below. They’d been prepared for violence, could have combatted it. I hoped they’d succumbed only to magic and hadn’t lost their lives to the supernatural ego.
With the vampires contained, this particular supernatural ego stepped inside. Her hair was down, waving locks that spilled across her shoulders. Her dress was white and gauzy, carefully embroidered with thread that glinted gold in the chandelier light. And in her eyes was fury that flamed as brightly as her hair, her magic sending the scent of salt spray and fresh grass into the air.
Ruadan stepped into the room behind her, also in his finery. Not a soldier, but a king. Or as close as he seemed likely to get with Claudia in power.
Some of the delegates looked afraid or confused. Others looked amused, as if this were part of some elaborate entertainment prepared for their benefit.
Chicago’s Masters rose from their seats. They knew better.
My parents both looked back at me; the instinct to protect their child. I nodded, tapped the handle of my sword to signal I was fine, and was glad they couldn’t hear the pounding of my heart. My fear didn’t matter.
Neither looked entirely convinced I was safe—but, then again, none of us were at the moment—so they gave their attention back to the threat.
My father shifted his gaze to Claudia as the other vampires looked at him, still trying to figure out what was happening and what they should be doing about it.
“Claudia,” he said. And in that word was an angry punch of power that rippled through the room like a wave.
My heart pounded with concern for him, for the risk he was taking, even though I knew he and my mother could handle themselves. I’d never seen them face down an army before—those days had been gone before I was born—and I didn’t enjoy it now.
But there was something more dangerous yet. With each drip of adrenaline into my bloodstream, magic began to drum again, eager to join in the fight.
“Bloodletter.” Her voice was hard, the word and tone an insult. “We are here to demand an end to this disrespect.”
My father’s expression showed no fear. He would show no deference to her. “What disrespect have you been shown?” He glanced around at the delegates, some of whom were showing their fangs, their eyes silvered with emotion. “How is a discussion about peace among vampires a threat to you?”
Lip curled, she looked around the room. “You gather your allies here to discuss revolution, to discuss that which bloodletters seek as much as they seek blood. Power over others.”
She offered Ruadan a knowing smile, and he nodded back, eyes narrowed with satisfaction.
My father lifted an eyebrow. “That is incorrect. We are here to lay the foundation to end violence among the Houses of Europe. To discuss the peace we’ve found—orhadfound—in Chicago. Peace that you appear to be breaching, Claudia.”
Claudia was either too egotistical to care that she’d angered him or oblivious to it.
“Then why were we invited to your party, but not to these serious discussions? It is insulting. And does it not prove you seek to hide your purpose from those who would bring it into light?”
“As the invitation explained,” my father said, voice flat, “the reception was to celebrate our peace. The discussions pertain to European Houses, and, as far as I’m aware, fairies have no quarrel with the Houses in Europe. Do I misunderstand? Do you have grievances to air against Dumas? Against Solignac?”
For a moment, Claudia looked unsettled—and maybe a little confused—by the question.
“You are planning revolution,” she said, her words as uncertain as her expression.
“We are not. If you have been informed otherwise, you have been misled.”
“Wait.” A vampire from Catalonia stood, a man with short, dark hair, tan skin, and suspicious eyes. “There is something suspicious here—shapeshifters in a room of vampires. If these discussions do not pertain to other species, why are they here?”
“Because they volunteered to provide security for this endeavor,” my father said. “And I’d note they are showing substantially more grace than you about that fact.”
This must have been Tomas Cordona, the Master of Casa Cordona. His House was one of the most conservative on the political spectrum, and generally believed sups shouldn’t mix. The reception and shifters’ presence was probably a challenge tothat nonsense, which was likely one of the reasons the Chicago Houses had arranged it that way.
Tomas shook his head, pointed at my father. “Deny that you’ve sought to strengthen your position, to consolidate the power of the vampires in this city, or that you’re content to share power with shapeshifters.” He leveled a menacing gaze at Gabriel. “We do not believe in such things.”
Gabriel’s expression was cool and unruffled. There was no insult there, at least not that I could see, but a mild disdain that he’d probably showed to vampires before.
“Tomas, you are insulting your hosts,” Marion said, disapproval clear in her eyes. “That is not befitting a vampire.”
Tomas snorted. “You are plainly on the side of Cadogan, because you shelter its Master’s child.” He fixed his gaze on me, which lit a fire in my father’s eyes.
