Miguel was a lot more complicated. He wanted Alejandro and her to be safe and happy, that much was easy. But beyond that...he wanted Dimilioc to rebuild its power. She was almost sure her twin wanted that. But she wasn’t sure his ideas for how to do that, or his idea of power and what it was for, or even his definition of Dimilioc...she wasn’t sure any of her twin’s ideas for those things totally matched up with Grayson’s. That worried her.
When Grayson nodded to him, Alejandro let go of Herrod’s arm, but hesitated for a stretched moment. It took another, less patient nod before he withdrew. When the door shut behind him, the tension in the room only ratcheted up. Natividad looked at Grayson, but his hard gaze was fixed on Colonel Herrod.
The colonel looked exactly like himself. Even under these circumstances, even facing Grayson, his self-possessed composure didn’t tremble at all. He wore his own excellent suit. Everything had been cleaned and pressed, so somebody must have done that for him just so he could look like this now. Natividad was sure it had been Miguel; who else could it have been? It was the sort of detail that Miguel paid attention to.
If Colonel Herrod was afraid of Grayson, of all the gathered black dogs, that didn’t show either. If the colonel had gone pale, the darkness of his skin disguised it. Perhaps he looked a little ashen, his skin not such a warm brown as it should be, but the difference was subtle. Of course, Natividad couldn’t hear his heartbeat. It was harder to pretend to a black dog about things like that. She thought only a great fool would not be afraid in the colonel’s place.
She wondered what the colonel thought about power and the use of power, and how much he knew about Dimilioc’s role in controlling callejeros and—before the war—keeping down vampires and their horrible blood kin. Colonel Herrod might possibly know more about those things now than he had a few days ago—if Miguel had told him about Dimilioc, and if her twin had told the colonel the truth.
If Grayson also wondered how much the colonel knew about Dimilioc and black dogs, she couldn’t exactly tell it. But she was fairly certain he must.
“Colonel,” Grayson said. His tone was flat, heavy, censorious. Natividad had never heard him sound exactly like that. Not even when he was really angry. Actually, she sort of thought maybe she might never before have seen him when he was really angry, until the other day when he’d seen how badly Ezekiel had been treated by the Special Forces people. He was much quieter about it than a normal black dog. In a way...in a way, he was actually scarier than Ezekiel. She quietly traced a row of pentagrams down the arm of her chair with the tip of her finger, framing the wish for peace only in her mind. Grayson did not appear to notice. The corner of Ezekiel’s mouth crooked up, but he made no comment.
Herrod met the Master’s gaze for just a second. Then he came forward several steps and knelt, deliberately, down on both knees, and bowed his head. He stayed there like that, not speaking or moving. Natividad suspected Miguel had persuaded him actually to practice, because it was almost exactly the way a black dog would have done it. And her twin had made the colonel understand he must wait for permission to speak. That was almost the most astonishing thing: that a man like Colonel Herrod would listen to a boy like Miguel and respect his advice. Natividad discovered that she actually liked the colonel a good deal. It was too bad, because immediately she worried about him even more.
“Well?” Grayson said at last, in the same flat tone. “I had believed my people safe in your hands. I believed I could trust your repeated, explicit assurances. Evidently I was mistaken.”
The colonel lifted his head. “Yes. I deeply regret the harm that was done to your people when, as you say, they should have been safe. The fault was entirely mine.”
Grayson steepled his hands on the desk, regarding the colonel over the tips of his fingers. “Indeed. That was certainly my impression. Well. Explain to me how your mistakes led to this.”
Herrod nodded. He took a moment, maybe to organize his thoughts or maybe just to gather his nerve—though he still did not seem afraid. He had forgotten about not looking the Master in the face, but there was no challenge in his face or posture. After that little hesitation, he nodded again and said, “I had no reason to expect civilian interference at that particular time, but I suspected Connelly intended to move at some point. I should have anticipated the possibility that he would do so as soon as both Hannah Raichlen and I were out in the field. When I sent the children and your executioner to Albuquerque, I should have sent Ms. Raichlen with that party as well as Lieutenant Santibañez. She could have prevented Senator Connelly from maintaining control even if he had already gained entry to the compound.”
“I gather the senator was the Chair for the Committee for Management of Supernatural Threats, and thus in authority over all remaining Special Forces units. Yet Raichlen could have stopped him?”
Herrod’s tone was perfectly neutral. “As a civilian, Ms. Raichlen is outside the chain of command and would not have been subject to the senator’s authority. She would have found a way to derail the senator.”
“Given that he was in fact the Chairman of—”
“Ms. Raichlen is a remarkably resourceful individual.”
Natividad could not quite imagine how anyone could have stopped Connelly. Blackmail? Simply shooting him? She didn’t dare interrupt to ask.
“However, she was not there,” the colonel continued. “Once we knew some sort of problem had arisen, I should have sent her at that point. However, I chose to retain my greatest assets for the anticipated encounter with Gregor Kristoff. It did not occur to me that Senator Connelly could not only gain access to our base but also pursue such destructive personal ambitions so far in so brief a time. I was wrong.” He paused. Then he added in a level tone, “In the event that it becomes necessary for Dimilioc to seek a new ally in the Special Forces, I urge you to contact Ms. Raichlen. Her status as a civilian advisor to the Special Forces affords her certain advantages when dealing with the...awkward situations...that occasionally arise.”
“An advisor.”
“When necessary, Ms. Raichlen offers quite forceful advice. Particularly to civilian authorities who might otherwise get in my—our—way. Despite her civilian status, you would find her able to coordinate an alliance between Dimilioc and the Special Forces. She was Major Raichlen not so long ago. At the time when a good many of our personnel were reassigned, after the hot phase of our operations to eliminate vampires ended, we determined she might make better use of her particular talents in a civilian capacity.”
“I see. Your military superiors cannot command this woman.”
“No one can command Hannah Raichlen. Not even me. Because she is a civilian, and entirely outside the ordinary chain of command. However, if you find it necessary to restructure Dimilioc’s relationship with the Special Forces, I think you’ll find that my unit is...unconventional, and rather more likely to accept guidance from a civilian authority than is generally the case for military units.”
“For them, she is still Major Raichlen.”
“Not at all. Certainly not. No one salutes her or addresses her as ‘Major.’ Naturally that would be inappropriate.”
Grayson considered this.
“Ms. Raichlen is a practical woman who is entirely capable of dealing with the world as it is rather than as she would prefer it to be. You will need my people, Mr. Lanning.” Herrod took a breath. “Master.” He was a little stiff on the word, but he got it out. Natividad was impressed. He went on, “You will need the Special Forces. Admittedly, my people need yours: the demon that’s now been loosed on the world may well turn out to be a very serious problem; indeed, the forerunner of a very serious problem, as I think we may expect to find ourselves dealing with additional witches and demons in the near future. Ms. Raichlen will be aware that we need Dimilioc’s expertise. However, you need us as well. Kristoff is still out there, and I’m sure you wish very much to get your young wolf away from him and prevent any others of your people from falling under his swa
y. Dimilioc and the Special Forces are still natural allies. I urge you to work with Ms. Raichlen if necessary.”
Natividad understood. The colonel meant this woman would deal with Dimilioc even if Grayson tore his head off right now and threw it through a window. She hoped that wasn’t going to happen. But she couldn’t tell what Grayson was thinking.
Probably Colonel Herrod couldn’t either. But after a slight pause, he turned to speak directly to Ezekiel. “Lieutenant Santibañez understood I had committed to protect Dimilioc’s people. But he was under Senator Connelly’s orders the moment the senator stepped into our base. This put him in a difficult position. However, I’m sure it didn’t immediately occur to Santibañez that he would find himself standing by while the senator’s people actively tortured our prisoners. I must point out, in my lieutenant’s defense, that there is no such thing as an illegal order when it comes to black dogs. Nevertheless, I’m still astonished the senator would take such action under the witness of Special Forces personnel. He ought to have known I...well. He may have wished to demonstrate his authority over me. In any case, I’m certain that Lieutenant Santibañez followed the senator’s orders—legal though they were—only because in his estimation you were not actually in danger of death. If Senator Connelly had shown any inclination to kill you, I’m quite sure he would have taken action.”
Ezekiel tilted his head, cool acknowledgement of the colonel’s opinion, but with no suggestion he accepted it.
The colonel drew a slow breath, let it out, and turned back to the Master. “The senator must have been aware my people were recording everything. Plainly that did not concern him. I strongly suspect he meant to goad me into an actionable response, then arrest me—I could speculate upon the exact charge, but it’s not of practical importance. He would then have seized entire control of the base and created his own modified record of events. However, I was outside the response loop at the time, and that possibility simply did not occur to me. My failure of imagination subjected your people to hazard, discomfort, and, in one case, actual torture. I regret this extremely. Tell me what I can do to make amends.”
The Master considered him for a long moment. Then he said to Ezekiel, “You are the one owed. This man is yours. I will not limit your actions in any way, save that if you kill him, I would prefer the body remain recognizable. Other than that, you may do whatever you wish.”
Natividad hastily drew another pentagram on the other arm of her chair. Ezekiel was smiling. His scary smile. It was a role he played, but...it wasn’t only a role. She looked at Colonel Herrod. His expression hadn’t changed, but his breathing quickened. Though he didn’t move or speak, she could tell he was definitely afraid now. Anyone would be. She would have been terrified.
But Ezekiel did not immediately move. He said to the Master, “His death would complicate things for Dimilioc, I imagine.”
“If it is widely believed that Dimilioc may be taken lightly, our people tormented and abused without hazard, that will also complicate matters for us,” the Master told him. “I am quite willing to make the strongest possible statement on the matter. You may therefore take whatever vengeance you wish. You may feel quite free, in Thos Korte’s memorable phrase, to make this man an example for the ages.”
Natividad had believed that was Ezekiel’s own special phrase. Certainly he used it now and then, and she’d never heard it from anyone else. She was positive that the Master meant something by his reminding Ezekiel of the phrase, but she couldn’t guess what. Grayson practically never mentioned the unlamented former Dimilioc Master; certainly he never held him up as an example anybody should follow.
She knew it was Thos Korte who had first made Ezekiel into Dimilioc’s executioner, and into his personal killer. His personal torturer. And she knew Ezekiel had, in the end, killed Thos Korte himself, allowing Grayson to step into the Master’s place. That name had to have some deeper meaning for them both. But she couldn’t tell what either of them were thinking.
Ezekiel straightened and stepped forward.
Colonel Herrod got quickly to his feet—neither to retreat nor to fight; Natividad saw that immediately. But refusing to meet Ezekiel on his knees. He stared the Dimilioc Executioner directly in the face, but he folded his hands together and didn’t say a word.
Stopping a pace or two in front of the colonel, Ezekiel looked him up and down, a slow, measuring look. He wasn’t smiling now. Not even Natividad could guess whether that was a good sign or a bad one.
Sweat gleamed on the colonel’s forehead, but he didn’t back away. He was still looking directly at Ezekiel, but Natividad didn’t dare warn him to stop that. She didn’t dare make a sound. If Ezekiel actually...surely he wouldn’t...if he did, he wouldn’t do it here in this room. If he started to take the colonel somewhere else, she would have to say something—
“You’re mine,” Ezekiel told Herrod softly. “I can do anything to you I wish. Anything. I can be very creative, believe me.”
Herrod gave him a small nod of acknowledgment.
Ezekiel said in that same soft voice, “I want an apology.”
The colonel stared at him.
Ezekiel said in a level tone, “None of that should have happened. You should have prevented it. I want an apology.”
Colonel Herrod cleared his throat. He said, “You’re entirely correct. You were harmed because of my actions and because of my failures to act. I am sorry for the harm that was done you, and I apologize and beg your pardon.” He glanced at Natividad. “And yours as well, Miss Toland; and your brother’s.” He turned his attention back to Ezekiel. “Shortly before I arrived back at the base, Lieutenant Santibañez finally found a chance to tell me what Senator Connelly had been doing to you. I should have ordered him to take the senator into custody at that time. I intended to do it myself rather than put the task on Santibañez. But I could have—should have—ordered Santibañez to do it, then found a way to protect him from the consequences of that act. I did not do so. The cost of that decision fell on you. I most sincerely apologize.” And, in a gesture Miguel must have taught him, he carefully, deliberately, turned his head and tipped his chin up, offering Ezekiel his throat.
Natividad pressed a hand over her mouth and didn’t make a sound. Grayson lifted one sardonic eyebrow, but said nothing.
Ezekiel didn’t look at either of them. His attention seemed entirely focused on Herrod. For a long moment, he didn’t move at all.
Finally he reached out and touched the colonel’s throat lightly, just with the tips of his thumb and fingers. His hand was almost entirely human, but shadow claws glittered like jet at the tips of every finger. The skin of Herrod’s throat dimpled under the pressure of those claws, and a single drop of blood showed suddenly, shockingly crimson against his walnut-dark skin.
The colonel stood perfectly still, seeming not even to breathe.
Ezekiel lifted his hand, claws vanishing. He said to Herrod, without smiling, “I accept your apology.” Then he stepped back and nodded to Grayson. “I’m satisfied, Master.”
Herrod half shut his eyes. He showed no other visible reaction, but Natividad was pretty sure that meant he was profoundly relieved. And maybe a little surprised.
It was impossible to tell whether the Master was relieved or surprised. He said in a neutral tone, “You’re certain? I think you are due considerably more than that.”
Ezekiel smiled, but this time not his scary-killer smile. He shrugged, a small, light gesture. “He did fly the helicopter, Grayson. He volunteered to. I might have gotten us all out of there anyway. But I might not, and even if I had, the cost might have been...high. My memory is a trifle uncertain right through there, but I’m sure there were a lot of guns and silver bullets between us and the exit.” He shrugged again. “Senator Connelly was the one to make an example of. I tore his head off, if memory serves. That should do as a statement that Dimilioc should not be taken lightly. Yes, I’m satisfied.”
Grayson nodded. “Very well. That will
do, then.” But he added to Herrod, not much less grimly than before, “I don’t know that I am satisfied, however.”
Herrod faced him. “In your place, I wouldn’t be. Tell me what I can do to make this right between us.”
Grayson began to answer him...and his phone, lying on the corner of the wide desk, rang. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was startling enough to make Natividad jump. Frowning, not looking away from Herrod, the Master picked it up and thumbed it on. “Yes?” His voice was a low rumble of displeasure.
Natividad was the only one in the room who couldn’t hear the person on the other end of the phone. Well, and Colonel Herrod, of course. But Grayson’s expression changed from grim disapproval to studiedly neutral. Who could it be?
Sometimes Natividad really wished being Pure gave a person those really acute black dog senses. Also black dog strength. And the ability to ignore heat and cold, and walk on top of the snow, and heal injuries.
Well, maybe not that last, considering how they did it. Not any of it, considering that. But she would have liked to be able to hear the person on the other end of Grayson’s phone. Every black dog in the room had straightened, looking offended—that was Étienne—or amused—that was Ezekiel, naturally. James, an eye on Grayson, pursed his lips, leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and just waited. Colonel Herrod was waiting too, of course. His attitude was one of polite patience. It was hard to guess what he might really be thinking or feeling. Maybe he was just kind of glad of the interruption.
The Master wasn’t saying much, not nearly enough for Natividad to figure out who the call was from or what it was about. He said, “I see,” first. Then he said, “Indeed. I commend your efficiency. No. In fact your arrival is quite timely. One moment, please.” Then, muting the phone, he said to Colonel Herrod, “It is your Ms. Raichlen. She would like to know whether this is a convenient moment for a visit. I gather your people have made advances in tracking devices. Though I would not have expected quite this level of performance. Where is yours?”
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