My heart fell and shattered into a thousand pieces.
Shiloh.Molly Everhart’s niece, my scion, also part of Clan Yellowrock, according to my claiming and according to vamp law.This.This is why they hadn’t told me. They knew what this news would do to me. I closed my eyes to shut out the world. Shiloh was a witch as well as a vamp. If any vamp had her and figured out what she was, she’d be killed in a heartbeat. She was young and not well trained as a witch, not a powerful vamp. She was mine to protect. I had let her down. I had let all of them down.
The old familiar guilt wormed through me, telling me I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t enough in any way. Especially now.
The more rational part of me suggested that if they were being held together, maybe Tex and Ronald could protect Shiloh. That part of me also suggested that if Shiloh was dead, Molly would kill me.
Alex murmured, “Janie knows about the missing vamps. Yeah. All of them. Tex Cooper, Ronald, the heir of Clan Bouvier, and Shiloh Stone.” I realized he was updating Eli in the field, on comms.
“I’ve instituted new protocols since Derek Lee’s car went off into a bayou and he went missing. And since Janie isn’t here,” Wrassler said.
“Derek’s missing too?” I asked, louder. “When? How?” Heat flared through me, anger I hadn’t experienced in months. “And why wasn’t I told?” I demanded of Alex. Derek was the number one security guy at HQ now that I had other titles and responsibilities. “I should have been told.”
“With all due respect, Legs,” Wrassler said, his words clipped, his voice laced with anger, “youleft New Orleans.”
My mouth opened in protest but I said nothing. What could I say? I was sick. Dying. I had abdicated. I stared at Alex. He was tapping away on one of the multiplekeyboards and he had an old-fashioned mouse at each hand, a gaming stick, and two finger pads lined up within reach. Beneath his naturally dark skin, he was flushed with mortification. I looked at Bruiser who met my eyes with... was thatpity?
Wrassler went on. “Ed was Leo’s heir. And Ed was your heir, but everything came through the grapevine, not official notification, no ceremony, no pomp and circumstance, and you elected not to send a prefect or cede dominion of the city to another. With you out of the picture and Ed in Europe, we’ve done the best we could to protect New Orleans and keep the peace. Under the circumstances, the city is doingoutstanding.”
Unspoken was the sentimentNo thanks to you.
My running away had resulted in a long and heated tirade by both Youngers that had included accusations like selfish, spoiled, dispassionate, nonaligned, and detached. And cruel. Their charge that I had been cruel in running away had been the one that hit home. I had thought I was saving them the torment of watching me die. Instead I had hurt them. They hadn’t yet let me live it down, and this thing with Wrassler wouldn’t help.
“Before Edmund Hartleytook off,” Wrassler said, his voice rising in pitch and tone, “he instructed us not to initiate contact with you unlessyouwere in danger.Youare not in danger. We know you’re sick, but skinwalkerslive forever, so what thehell do you want me to do, Janie?” he shouted.
“Holy crap on a cracker,” I said. “I’ve got cancer; I’m not dead.” And I felt, now that anger was coursing through me, more like myself.
“Cancer,” Wrassler said, startled.
“Got it,” Alex said, without taking his gaze from the screens. “I’ve pulled up the police report on Derek.” His fingers had been tapping as Wrassler and I argued. “Derek Lee’s vehicle was found in a bayou about twenty-five miles out of New Orleans after a hard rain. Official reading is that he tried to cross a bridge that was running deep with runoff and was swept off the road. But no body’s been found. According to the written report, therewas damage to the back panel that could suggest he was rammed. Here are the investigating officer’s photos. They show a gray smear of contact paint. Sending all this to you at HQ.”
Alex had obviously accessed official law enforcement records. Illegally. I should have stopped that, but... we needed the info.
“Cancer? What the hell do you mean you have cancer?” Wrassler said. Then, as he caught up on everything, “Rammed? I never got any photos. Let me look. I was assured by the sheriff—” He stopped. We waited. After several seconds, Wrassler cursed. “This was in Plaquemines Parish. I screwed up. I’m sorry, Empress.”
Empress. Me.Wrassler was great at security and tactics but wasn’t quite as competent on politics and law enforcement. He should have called me personally, no matter what, even against Ed’s orders. But he was mad at me for disappearing, so he didn’t. And the Youngers and Bruiser knew how sick I was so they didn’t tell me. And the Plaquemines sheriff had reason to hate vamps. And me. I had, after all, helped Leo to muck up her current job, and had thrown her future political aspirations into the toilet.
I pushed my thoughts back to Derek Lee. Despite having each other’s backs in some pretty hairy situations, he and I never really got along. Derek was afraid of vampires and the sexual stimulation that resulted from being a blood-meal to one of them. But Derek was under the protection of Edmund Hartley, so in a convoluted way, Derek was mine to protect, even if he himself didn’t want to be. I had failed him too. My eyes burned, dry and aching.
Alex talked over my silent thoughts. “I’m sending a request from NOLA fanghead HQ up the law enforcement ladder to the governor. I’m requesting that the official investigation into the accident not be closed until someone has considered the possibility of a hit-and-run and kidnapping.”
“Whose signature goes on that?” Eli asked his brother.
“Jane’s, as Dark Queen.”
“Who’s Edmund’s heir?” I asked, as a thought occurred to me. Last I’d heard, Ed had appointed Katie to manage things, but if he had an heir, that person could be my—what term had Wrassler used? Myprefect. Yeah. Ducky!
“He didn’t have one. All you have are the local Mithrans. Vamps need a leader, Legs, someone to rule the office of Master of the City. Edmund’s office.Youroffice.”
My office. Crap.
“You said something about protocols changing after Derek left. What protocols?” I asked.
Wrassler said, “No one leaves anywhere, anytime, without sending a text to HQ first, and then another when they return. Anyone missing is reported to HQ. We follow up every twenty-four hours. Most of the Blood Masters are complying.” Which meant that some were not.
“Derek was the Pellissier Enforcer. Now he’s missing. I need an Enforcer in NOLA,” I said. “Someone everyone would obey. A vamp Enforcer.”
“That...” Wrassler made a softhmmmingnoise. “That would actually work. Someone to take names and break a few jaws.”
