There was a faint hesitation before Raisin continued. “Yes,” she said. “Things change. Often. And sometimes in dangerous ways not expected by those who rule.”
Which sounded like a threat. Or a promise. But her words made Eli smile that cold battle smile that said he had an enemy in his sights. “Continue, Ernestine. And tread carefully around your queen and her faithful and loyal servants.”
Raisin said, “The journal is not old, only from the 1920s. However, I found mention of a Cherokee woman and thought you might be interested. I recall thisCherokee woman,”she said, her tone making it a racial slur against native people.
I narrowed my eyes and glanced at Eli. His eyes were watching out the window, but his body was relaxed, too calm. Battle ready.
“She was well known as a blood-servant, though few were allowed to sip of her.” Raisin’s tone said that was unusual and wrong. “She had eyes like yours.” More insulting tone.
Raisin had never liked me, but she had never been so totally without manners or respect. It was almost as if she felt there would be no reprisals for her attitude. We had traitors in HQ. Was Raisin aligned with them? From Eli’s reaction, he had the same questions.
Raisin continued, “While I do not recall the events in the text, I thought that My Queen might be interested.”
The messenger at the door.Right.Old vamps and old blood-servants seldom used text. The phone in Raisin’s office still had a wire into the wall... I nodded to Eli and said, “Ernestine. Your many years of service to the Mithrans of the city, and your current manner, have been noted.”
“My Queen.” She ended the call without being dismissed.
I thought about the scents I had caught from Raisin when she appeared outside Leo’s bedroom door. The mixture had been more than animosity and fear. It also hadbeen strong with fresh blood, and Raisin had never smelled so strongly of blood in the past. Raisin had fed and been fed on. A lot.
Eli, weapon in hand, held down and at his side, opened the door, accepted the package from the messenger, and carried it to the kitchen table. Carefully, he inspected the envelope for mundane traps, like miniature explosives and poisons.
From his desk, Alex said, “I had Derek drill through the floor above and install hidden cameras in Raisin’s office while we were in Asheville. It’s not downloaded to the main security system, but to a separate system. Just in case someone talked. I’ve scanned it once a week for the last three months, but I’m overdue for a look-see. I’ll access it and go back over the footage.”
“What about her quarters?” Eli asked, shining a Wood’s light over the package and the palm of his hand where he had touched the legal-sized envelope.
“No cameras there. There’s some things I do not need to see. Might scar me for life.”
Eli’s mouth softened in his version of a smile. “Tia hasn’t already done that?”
Alex didn’t look away from his systems. “She’s working on it, but we’ve only been back to NOLA for a few days. So far, I’m holding my own.”
“Too much information, guys,” I said.
Tia was a former member of Katie’s Ladies, and she was also learning about computers from Alex, which was odd because Tia had always appeared to be... not stupid, but... slow, intellectually. Alex and Tia had been on and off again in virtual reality for months. I really didn’t need to know what they had been up to in person, though if Tia and Alex were involved, that might be a good thing. She had been broken as a young woman, and Alex would be an innocent and gentle partner.
Alex ducked his head farther to hide his grin.
Oh yeah. Something-something between them. Good.
“Nothing I can detect on the envelope,” Eli said, after spraying the envelope with something vinegary and then something alkaline. He went to the back of the house to the old laundry room, which he had remodeled after one ofthe bloodbath events over the years. He came back carrying a heavy-duty shield made of clear, thick polycarbonate, a riot shield like cops use, but this one had a sky-blue band across the bottom, signaling that it was a null shield too, giving him resistance to active magical workings.
My heart shot into my throat. Beast-fast, I grabbed Alex’s shoulder and pulled his rolling chair across the living room and along the wall that placed the weapons room between us and the kitchen. It was a testament to our violent lives that Alex didn’t resist or ask why. My last vision of Eli was him pulling a knife from a pocket. I heard the sound of paper being cut, slicing sounds, followed by the shush of leather and paper and the ripple sound of pages flipping. A plastic-clatter followed as the shield was placed on the floor.
“All clear,” Eli said.
Alex slid back to the desk, the chair rollers whirring over wood and the fancy new rugs. I walked into the kitchen. Eli looked fine, not even a sheen of perspiration, while I was ever so slightly clammy.
Eli said, “Ernestine sent over a journal kept by a vamp named Malita Del Omo. She says to read pages sixty-three and sixty-four.” Eli opened the journal to the pages and the translations to the same. Comparing back and forth, he read, “I am distraught. I shall be given to another master. The life I have lived here is over. My Ka and my Adan have been sent away by the Master of the City, the terrible Leo Pellissier. He has judged that they have performed unspeakable black arts, using Mithrans and blood-servants as test subjects. But I am still here. I still live. I am to be given away as scion to another. Given away.”
“Like a slave,” I murmured.
Eli slid his finger along the translation, and also along the original text. “It’s some version of Spanish. Here it says, ‘Adan and Ka were separated, and Ka was sent to two outclan priestesses in Europe’.”
“Which ones?” I asked.
“Bethany and Edith.”
“Well dang,” I said mildly. “Bethany is dead, and I never heard of an Edith.”
