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Karoly held out a hand. “The knife, Victorine.”
The guards moved closer and surrounded the four of us like a noose tightening. Victorine looked at me, as if even now, she expected me to help her.
I stared back. “You heard Primus Kral. You want to negotiate, fine. Otherwise, that information is going out to the world.”
Victorine drew herself up to her full height, eyes glittering like an outraged cobra.
“The knife,” Karoly repeated.
I readied myself to pull out my dagger. But she gave a tight nod and handed it over.
“Wise choice,” Karoly said. He jerked his chin at his people. “Check her for weapons.”
A male and a female moved forward. Victorine hissed and flashed her fangs.
Karoly flicked up a single black brow. “You have a problem?”
Her glare should’ve fried him where he stood. “No,” she said between her teeth.
The two vampires patted her down. My mother tolerated it, stiff-backed, her mouth white around the edges.
“She’s clean,” the man told Karoly, and they stepped back.
Karoly waved a hand, indicating the restaurant door. “After you, Prima Tremblay.”
We went inside along with two of the guards. The other pair remained on guard outside. The restaurant was elegant but cozy, with dim lighting, tomato-red tablecloths and a distressed wood floor.
The tall, brown-haired guard remained by the front door. The other took a stance by the only other exit, the door to the kitchen.
A server in black pants and a crisp white shirt ushered us to a round table. Karoly took one side, and my mother the opposite. Rafe and I sat together with Karoly next to Rafe and Victorine next to me.
The server bought us each a glass of blood-wine, then left us alone in the room except for the guards.
Victorine had composed herself, but I was growing tenser by the second. I knew my mother. Her stillness was the contained pressure of a volcano about to blow.
Karoly sat back in his chair. “Why don’t we lay our cards on the table?”
She inclined her head. “Please.”
“You broke the truce,” he said. My mother started to object, but he raised a staying hand. “There’s no use denying it. Your own daughter has shown me the evidence.”
She went so rigid I was surprised her spine didn’t snap. “This is true?” she asked me.
I gazed back calmly. “Yes.”
“Philippe is no longer part of your scheme,” Karoly continued. “In fact, Primus de Froulay has reprimanded Philippe for his part in detaining my sons, and stripped him of his rank as enforcer. I think you’ll find you won’t be welcome in Paris for a long, long time. If you persist on this path, your allies will know it. Your own daughter is willing to shout it to the world. You’ve lost. Admit it.”
My mother looked like she’d sucked on a lemon. “Very well. What do you propose?”
Karoly’s long fingers toyed with his wine glass. “We have interests in common, you and I. And now my son and your daughter have mated. Surely we can put this feud behind us once and for all?”
“Easy for you to say. Your mate survived the feud. Mine didn’t.”
“And I was responsible.” Karoly studied his wine. “But why was Romanov in Maryland, I wonder? In my own home.”
I stilled. That wasn’t how I’d heard the story. Victorine had always said Karoly had vowed he wouldn’t stop until he’d killed everyone in her immediate family—her, my father, and me.
My mother opened her mouth. Shut it.
