She brought her thoughts back to the table. Andreas had returned to brooding, his shadowed gaze focused on the flame of their table candle.
“Are you ever going to clue me in?”
Andreas’s eyes popped up to hers, and the corners of his mouth curved. “Run out of patience, madam witch?” He steepled his long fingers. “I am sorry to be so inattentive tonight. This latest development has been particularly hard for me to comprehend. We intercepted a courier last night. A vampire running information back and forth between Riverdale and Sebastian in Toronto. Unfortunately he did not reveal his local contact.” Andreas’s jaw tightened. “But the courier was here, in my club. And I fear I know who the contact may be.”
“Who?” Ari leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Somebody on your staff? A member of the inner court?” Most of the vampire community hung out here from time to time, so she wasn’t surprised the contact had been in the club.
Andreas’s face clouded. “Forgive me, Arianna. But I hesitate to make such a serious accusation, even to you, until I am certain. Be patient for one more day. By tomorrow night my suspicions will be confirmed or refuted.”
Ari frowned at him, tempted to push for a better answer. But how could she fault him? The community was teeming with suspicion and a mob mentality. A false allegation overheard in the club could be lethal. If waiting a few hours made Andreas feel better, she’d go along—unless she got an opportunity to quiz him in private.
She shrugged in tacit acceptance. “And the courier, are you going to tell me what happened to him?”
“No, probably not.”
Better leave it alone, she thought. Vampires had their own idea of justice…and matching interrogation techniques. Someday she might try to change his mind. But to be honest, she didn’t have much interest in the fate of some traitorous thug. She was more curious about the suspect, who could be Sebastian’s candidate for the next Riverdale prince.
She studied her dinner companion. Now there was her candidate for prince. But he wouldn’t make Sebastian’s list. She almost smiled imagining Andreas as anyone’s puppet.
No, Sebastian’s choice would be someone weak, who only looked strong. She didn’t know a single vampire who fit that description. She’d like to suspect Lucien, simply because he was a prick, but he was too arrogant to let Sebastian take control.
“I can’t figure Sebastian out,” she said, thinking aloud. “If he has the wolves and some hand-picked prince on the scene, why the drugs and the mind-control experiments?”
“A tough question. One I have thought about for days.” He signaled the waiter to refill their wineglasses. When the young man was finished, Andreas continued. “Perhaps Sebastian hoped to keep us from seeing the bigger danger. Keeping the community in an uproar while he worked quietly behind the scenes. You have to admit it was effective.”
“Well, maybe.” She looked unconvinced.
“Or perhaps he fantasized about his own army of robot vampires. Whatever he envisioned, it is hard to believe even Sebastian would be foolhardy enough to want a drug perfected that controls vampires. A drug that could be turned against him.”
“A good reason for him to have the wizard killed. Maybe Dubrey was close to success, and Sebastian finally realized how dangerous it was. I wonder what Sebastian’s thinking now. Knowing we suspect him, what will he do?”
“Unpredictable. I am not even sure who is running the show. Master or puppet. Sebastian’s pet may have struck out on his own.” Andreas leaned back, picking up his wineglass. “Vampire ambitions have few boundaries.”
And what were Andreas’s ambitions? Ari wondered. When this was over, assuming they all survived, would he be content as a lieutenant forever? Somehow she doubted it.
Ari settled down to sleep early that evening. The short nights had taken a toll. She had a dull headache, and the wine had made her sleepy. As she waited to doze off, she tried to recapture those small things that kept nagging at her. The tattooed guy, something about Frederick’s friends… She drifted into a restless sleep.
She woke with her witch senses shrieking. A vampire was in the room. Not Andreas. Not his magic. Her hand closed over the dagger under the pillow. Heart racing, she forced herself to lie still until she could identify the enemy’s location. From the corner of one eye, she saw a dark shadow glide toward her. A citrusy scent drifted toward her, one she'd smelled before. Ari forced her breathing to remain even. As the figure bent toward her, she lunged against his legs, tumbling them both to the floor. The vampire let out a sharp hiss near her ear, and she slammed him with her fist, connecting on hard bone. Sharp fangs slashed open her arm, and Ari screamed. Striking blindly with the knife, she tried to roll away.
Pain seared her scalp as the vampire yanked her head back by her hair. She slashed upward with the knife, and the vamp reared back to avoid the blade. Ari wrenched free and scrambled away on all fours, knocking chairs out of her way. Surely the racket would bring someone soon. She heard her cell phone ring. An iron grip clamped onto her left ankle, pulling her toward her attacker.
In desperation, Ari snagged the wooden foot of the couch with her good arm and held on. The maneuver left her on her stomach, and when she tried to kick herself loose, she lacked leverage. She released the couch and flipped over to make another strike with the knife. Her elbow struck the floor, sending the blade flying to drop with a clatter.
The vampire laughed, low and mocking. Ari saw the flash of white fangs lowering toward her throat, and she head-butted him. A hard fist retaliated, making her ears pop. She finally heard voices in the distance. She groped along the floor, searching for a weapon, finding only her unzipped bag of clothes. As the fangs reared again, set to strike, Ari did the only thing she could. She dumped the bag over his head.
The door crashed and the lights came on. Victor’s body was ripped away and slammed against the wall. Andreas pinned the assailant by the collar of his shirt. Victor’s feet dangled in air, his face brought nose to nose with his furious boss. Victor’s eyes bulged, his throat close to being crushed.
“Wait,” Ari whispered. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Ask him about the wolves, where they’re hiding.”
Andreas hesitated, as if reluctant to allow Victor even a small reprieve. Finally, he said, “She has given you another few minutes of life. The longer you talk, the longer you survive.” He loosened his hold enough for the tips of Victor’s feet to touch the floor. “Begin talking now.”
“I’m not telling the bitch anything,” Victor gasped.
“Fine with me,” Andreas growled, tightening his hold again.
“Are you willing to die to protect them?” Ari demanded. Her head throbbed, and she was slow getting to her feet. Blood dripped from the gash on her forearm. “Or maybe you think you’re protecting Sebastian?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” was the sullen response.
Andreas shook him like a terrier with a rat.
“Don’t delude yourself,” Ari said. “Sebastian’s sitting safe in Toronto while you take all the risks.” She was on her feet now, next to Andreas’s shoulder. “He doesn’t care what happens to you. But you can help yourself. Tell us where Sheila is. Tell us their plan. And we’ll talk about sparing your life.”
“It is your only chance.” Andreas’s voice was harsh.
Victor hesitated. His eyes rolled toward Ari. He wanted to believe it. He focused on his former boss. “You’ll kill me anyway.”
“Perhaps,” Andreas admitted. “But I can make it less painful. What more do you have to lose?” Contempt crept into his voice. “You have betrayed your prince. Betrayed me. And for what? Sebastian used you.”
Victor struggled against the choking grip, his voice a ragged whisper. “You don’t know anything. Riverdale was supposed to be mine.”
Andreas’s laugh was ugly. “You would have nothing. Sebastian would always hold your chain.”
“Last chance,” Ari said. “Where’s Sheila? Tell me where I can find her.”
“Go to hell.”
“Oh, not me, buddy. But you have a nice trip. You’re not only a traitor, you’re a moron.” Ari backed away. Unless Andreas had some mind thingy up his sleeve, they weren’t getting anything from Victor. The would-be prince was at least smart enough to know he didn’t have a remote chance of surviving the night.
Andreas leaned forward and whispered in his ear. Victor’s body went rigid. Andreas released his grip, turning Victor over to the other staff now crowding into the room.
“Get rid of him,” Andreas ordered. “Make this his last sunrise.”
Victor didn’t resist as they hustled him out. The fight was gone; his face was blank once again.
“What’s that mean, his last sunrise?” Ari asked.
“Have you seen a vampire execution?”
She nodded. Andreas didn’t need to tell her any more. The condemned vampire had burst into flames as soon as sunlight touched his body. It was a quick but painful way to go.
“You are hurt,” he suddenly said.
Ari looked at her arm. She hadn’t noticed the blood dripping on the floor. “Yeah, sorry about the mess.” She grabbed a shirt from the clothes strewn on the floor and dabbed at the wounds. “Guess I could use a bandage.”
Someone found a first aid kit. Andreas cleaned and wrapped her arm. The blood was starting to clot and the gashes smarted, sure signs of healing.
“Was Victor the one you suspected?” Ari asked as he put the extra supplies back in the box.
His hands paused. “Yes. I regret not telling you. If I had thought…” He closed the first aid box with a snap. “After the failed raid, I hired a private firm to investigate my staff, including the four men who were with me. The background reports arrived last Monday, and Victor’s revealed he was born in Canada. That did not mean he had been a vampire in Canada or knew Sebastian, but it raised concerns. Since he came to us four years ago from South Carolina, we had no prior suspicion of any Canadian ties.” Andreas’s mouth formed a thin line. “He hid his ambitions well.”
