“Can we get a picture?” one of the two women asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. I blinked, wondering if I had missed part of her question.
“Oh! She would love that!” Cain chuckled, ushering me between them before I could come up with a polite reason to decline. I found myself smiling crookedly as Cain snapped a few pictures from three different phones in rapid succession. Wait a minute…three phones? The rat bastard was sneaking in some from his own phone!
The two clucked excitedly, thanking me as he handed their phones back. It took me a moment to finally process what had just happened. They were…fangirling. Over me. Maybe they just wanted proof to later show their friends that they had drank it up with the infamous White Rose at a ritzy downtown party—and had lived to tell the tale.
The night was young, though. And things might be getting hairy soon. If Dorian would hurry the hell up.
Cain tactfully stepped up beside me, draping his arm over my shoulder. “I need to speak to Callie in private for a few minutes. Can you excuse us?” he asked with a warm smile.
“Oh, don’t be so proper with us, young man!” Then the two began giggling as they made their way over to the bar, shooting playful smiles back at Cain.
He squeezed my shoulder meaningfully. “Not cool.”
I rolled my eyes. “You took your own blackmail picture. We’re even.”
He grunted, muttering under his breath.
I scanned the room thoughtfully, wanting to ask Cain about Dorian’s conversation—whether he had heard similar rumors about me. I spotted Cleo sipping champagne beside an attractive blonde woman, both smiling at one of the male entertainers. I discreetly pointed Cleo out to Cain. “She’s smart. Maybe too smart. Said her name is Cleo. Know anything about her?”
Cain followed my gaze, his eyes catching the light to look like early-morning mist. “No. Want me to go talk to her?” he said, eyeing the two women appreciatively.
I elbowed him in the ribs, eliciting a grunt. “No, creep. Just keep an eye on her for me.”
“Fine,” he sighed in disappointment. “Is everything going according to plan? Any way we can make it less boring for me?”
I thought about it, understanding his frustration. He had just been a lookout so far, keeping tabs on Le Bone. “What if everything was on fire? Lots and lots of fire. Fire everywhere,” I suggested, under my breath so as not to be overheard and start a panic.
“That could work,” he said thoughtfully. He patted the pockets of his linen suit, looking crestfallen. “I don’t have a lighter, though.”
I sighed. “If it comes to it, I am the lighter. Idiot.”
He grunted. “Right. Wizard stuff. Cool.”
Cain was definitely not the brains of our fearsome duo, not by any stretch of the imagination.
I stared across the room to see Roland, my old mentor, staring right back at me with a pensive frown. Being a vampire, he was keeping his distance in such a public setting, but he knew me well enough to know when I was up to something. His past experience as a Shepherd meant he was more inclined to kill threats first, and ask questions later, so I hadn’t shared details on my mission regarding Le Bone. Also, because I knew he wouldn’t approve of me involving myself in vampire drama.
I was surprised I hadn’t spotted Paradise and Lost—his two pet werewolves. Well, not really pets, but self-proclaimed protectors of the vampire who had single-handedly saved them from Vatican persecution when they were framed for the murder of a Shepherd. The same drama that had forced Roland to become a vampire in the first place.
It shouldn’t have to be said that Roland did not single-handedly save them, but that his assistant played a small supporting role. But I still found myself reminding the two about it at every opportunity since they couldn’t seem to get it through their flea-brained skulls.
Anyway…the two werewolves hardly left Roland out of their sight—especially if he was stepping into danger or any kind of public forum. They were attention whores, and loved hanging off his arm in public to remind everyone that Roland was the only vampire with two werewolf groupies. Their eyes even matched his—blood red. So, despite them choosing to stand by his side, it was apparent that there was actually something magical about their relationship.
For them not to be here with Roland…was strange. Unsettling. I hoped everything was okay, telling myself they were probably still trying to get a grip on their ragtag group of werewolves, determined to rebuild the Kansas City pack that had fled a while back.
If successful, they would be the first female, dual-Alpha werewolves I’d ever heard about…
Go Team Estrogen!
I let my concern fade and flashed Roland a reassuring, waggling my fingers playfully. The skin at the corners of his crimson eyes tightened dubiously, but he was nodding his head as he listened to Haven beside him. They were having a little business trouble with Haven’s string of night clubs. A new player had come to town in recent months, opening newer, flashier dance clubs a block away from every single one of Haven’s clubs, offering cheaper drink specials and cover charges to steal Haven’s customers. He’d been unable to discover who was behind it all, but it was too much of a coincidence for a competitor to open near every single one of his establishments.
I’d done a little digging and learned that Le Bone had frequented every single one of the competitors in his brief stay in town, and that he had been shoveling money to the new club owners for quite some time. The worst part was that the new club owners were just a consortium of pawns, knowing nothing about vampires or the very real turf war they had unwittingly stepped into by accepting Le Bone’s cash and cutting into Haven’s profits. They’d met a friendly French investor who wanted to finance them to open up a night club—and that he was willing to grant them ownership if they would manage it and give him a percentage of profits for his investment.
I had considered going straight to Haven with the information but wasn’t sure whether Le Bone had informants in Haven’s inner circle. How else could it have gone undetected for so long? Haven wasn’t incompetent, so he had to have a traitor in his midst.
I’d also considered giving the information to Roland, but hadn’t wanted anyone to see it as Roland making Haven—his Master and Maker—look unfit for his throne.
The local vampires were still cautious to have a once-vampire-hunter-priest turned wizard-vampire as part of their flock. No matter how the cards fell, it probably wouldn’t have helped Roland if he officially had anything to do with taking out Le Bone.
I’d also considered the salted-earth policy of inviting my Shepherd pal, Fabrizio over to take out the Eurotrash vampire. But that would have only turned all the supernatural families firmly against the Shepherds, and in effect, Roland and I since we both had past ties to the Vatican.
I wanted to show Fabrizio that there were subtler ways to handle complicated matters. Basically, to guide them into taking out their own trash. Since I was impatient, I hadn’t wanted to wait until Haven and his crew finally realized what was happening on their own.
And I won’t lie. Setting up traps like this was fun—probably more fuel for the fiery rumors blazing through the streets of Kansas City about me. Callie Penrose. The White Rose. The wizard kissed by Heaven. The Freak Hunter of Kansas City.
I watched one of Haven’s vampires urgently lean in to give his Master some unpleasant news and hand him a phone. Haven’s face darkened into a thunderhead of rage…
And the White Rose bloomed with pride.
Chapter 7
Haven snapped a terse command to one of his men, and then Roland leaned closer to speak in his ear. I hoped it wasn’t to cast suspicion on me, because I hadn’t decided whether or not I wanted to take credit yet. It would be best if the vampires handled this internally. Better for them. Whatever Roland said calmed the Master of Kansas City. Somewhat.
He was still furious, but looked composed. And he didn’t look my way, which was a plus.
Four vampires began snaking towar
ds us through the crowd. Le Bone was still standing a few feet ahead of us, busy trying to flirt with the server he’d had his eye on earlier—not poor Tyler, like Dorian had suggested. She looked politely disinterested—the bane of a server’s life—batting off unwanted affections while trying to earn a tip.
Le Bone only had one tip in mind, though, and it was apparent to me, a fellow woman, that she didn’t want it. I knew she also wouldn’t appreciate the tips of his fangs if she was too vehement in her denial. But this was a party of monsters, so I was betting Dorian had trained his employees well and that she could probably handle herself if necessary.
Le Bone’s Thugs must have sensed some change in the atmosphere, because they were squinting at the parting crowd as Haven’s enforcers headed our way.
Le Bone—either because he was a coward or a very wise man—had been careful to maintain his distance from the local vampires throughout the course of the evening. I silently stepped up behind the guards, placed the knuckles of each hand on their lower backs, and whispered evenly. “If you even breathe too deeply, my silver blades will sever your spine. It won’t feel too nice for you and it will stain my dress. That’s when my friend will get upset. He really likes this dress.”
The two vampire guards froze obediently as Cain stepped into their view. “It’s a very nice dress,” he said in a soft voice. “I’m sure you’ve heard all about the White Rose, so let’s not waste time with overly messy introductions.”
By their stiff nods, it turned out they had heard of my nickname—they just hadn’t connected it with me, the pretty girl in the dress. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed.
Le Bone was completely oblivious, reaching out to try to grasp the arm of the server who was artfully skipping from his grasp. Good girl, I thought to myself. That’s when he finally noticed Haven’s four enforcers surrounding him. He risked a glance over his shoulder to find his own two guards incapacitated. He snarled defiantly, but one of the enforcers cleared his throat.
“Haven demands your presence. Let’s not make a scene.”
Le Bone’s lips curled back. “Demands?” he sputtered incredulously in his utterly non-intimidating French accent. “You subdue my two guards and tell me not to make a scene? The Sanguine Council will hear all about—”
“I’m sure they will love to hear the story,” the enforcer interrupted drily. “But that depends on if you survive long enough to tell them. For now, please accompany me.”
Le Bone shot a furious glare at Cain. Then he shared that look with me, seeming surprised to discover that I was the one keeping them in line. “Release my guards.”
I shrugged and stepped away. “I just wanted to pinch their asses, but they were so coy about it, not wanting their boss to see.”
The two guards stepped clear from me with their chests puffed out, attempting to deny my accusation with their aggressive body language—but it was so overdone that it only seemed to lend credibility to my claim, making several in the crowd openly chuckle. The enforcers encircled them, and then promptly escorted the trio towards Haven. I glanced around to make sure Dorian was nowhere nearby. I found him near the bar, preparing to do a body-shot off of a particularly buxom troll’s belly button. Cain’s Playboy Grannies were leading the chant for the small crowd cheering Dorian on. It looked like the Chancery had sent a representative, after all. And I was going to miss meeting the big beautiful woman! The small crowd around Dorian roared as he knocked back the shot and held out a hand to help the beastly broad to her feet—which was hilarious, considering the incredible size difference between the two. He seemed oblivious to the drama regarding Le Bone.
But the rest of the party had noticeably hushed, snapped out of their party cheer as they sensed the sudden tension in the air—the apparent prisoners being escorted through the crowd by vampire Moses parting the party’s Red Sea. Perfect.
I followed in their wake, tugging Cain along with me but keeping out of sight of Haven. Roland discreetly tracked my movement with a tight look to his lips, but I ignored his judging look. I was experienced at evading it after more than a decade under his tutelage.
Le Bone stepped up to Haven with a furious scowl. “What is the meaning of this, Haven? Is this how you treat guests in your city?” he demanded.
“That’s Master Haven to you, venereal disease,” a female vampire abruptly hissed, darting through the ring of enforcers to jerk Le Bone’s head backwards by the hair.
Christ! Where had she come from? And to call Le Bone a venereal disease…that was just rude. I realized none of the enforcers looked alarmed that she had broken through their protective ring. My eyes slowly widened as it hit me. She had been additional security for Haven’s enforcers, hiding in the crowd but always close enough to support them from the shadows.
That was definitely Haven’s style. Secret backup plans.
Despite evidence to the contrary, Haven was incredibly intelligent. Which was why the whole club fiasco had surprised me. How had he not known about it? He was ruthlessly clever, always had a backup plan, and even when he appeared to fail in some venture, it was often later realized to have benefitted him in some significant way.
Haven’s face was entirely too calm, making me wonder what Roland had said to him, what was really happening right now.
“Thank you, Anita. I think he feels properly emasculated, now,” Have said.
She managed to shove him away, knocking him into his guards before slipping back out of sight in the crowd. Le Bone didn’t even get a chance to see what she had looked like—also intentional, I was betting.
Haven cleared his throat, his features a cool mask. “Guest implies that you reached out to the Master of Kansas City and requested permission to enter. That you then abided by His rules.” Haven’s face slowly shifted into a cruel smile that seemed to take about thirty seconds to complete. “I’m suddenly overjoyed that I happened to miss that meeting,” he added.
“When my Master arrives—”
“He will request my permission to enter my city, as per custom. Since none of that has taken place, I must treat you as a rogue vampire in my territory. And it seems you’ve been quite the nuisance, killing indiscriminately and playing at being a businessman.”
Le Bone grew very still. “What do you mean, playing at being a businessman?” he asked.
Haven sighed in mock disappointment. “You confess your crime with your own words. Why didn’t you ask about the killing as well? Are you truly that stupid, or just that arrogant?”
Le Bone’s face paled as he realized he’d messed up, and that his powerful Master wasn’t here to save him.
“You see, we are quite civilized in this…backwards city, as you called it.” Haven said, using the exact quote Le Bone had used to describe Kansas City. The crowd growled threateningly. “I offer you the chance to come clean on your business ventures, for what good it will do you…” he gave an easy shrug, not providing a benefit to sweeten Le Bone’s decision.
The crowd was eating it up. Haven’s decision to make this public also served as a subtle message to the supernatural community that the vampires would keep their side of the street clear of any trash. Allowing them to witness the vampires’ dirty laundry was a sign of goodwill.
“There is nothing to come clean about,” Le Bone growled defensively. “What evidence have you fabricated to frame me? Do you even have any?” he demanded, growing bolder.
If I hadn’t been privy to the evidence, I might have even believed his denial. Damned vampires perfecting their ability to lie over centuries of practice. No such thing as an impartial jury when many of the older vampires could talk their way out of most anything.
Haven sighed. “So be it.” He turned to the crowd, surprising everyone. “Would anyone like to claim responsibility for the evidence I just received? I don’t want this to look suspicious…”
I scooped an apple off a nearby table as I considered outing myself. He had a point I hadn’t considered. It did look like
a typical vampire frame-job. They were notorious schemers, and it was important the city saw they could be trusted. Everyone was already terrified of me and would likely attribute this to the White Rose’s growing list of atrocities by tomorrow, no matter what I did. I may as well get out in front of it. Own it.
I stepped forward, clearing my throat to get everyone’s attention. “That would be me, Haven. You make a good point, though…” I scanned the crowd with a thoughtful frown, feeling the tension bubbling up with each passing second. Then I nodded distinctly. “This whole crowd looks suspicious. It’s all dudes in here…except for these bitches.” And I ended by pointing my finger directly at Le Bone and his thugs.
Cain choked loudly on his wine.
And the rest of the crowd burst out laughing in one thunderous explosion, openly pointing and laughing at Le Bone. None took offense at me referring to them all as dudes. I wondered if anyone recognized that I had just quoted one of Eminem’s battle-rap lines from 8 Mile.
Le Bone snarled as he lunged towards me, but Haven’s associates gripped him firmly before he could take more than a single step.
Haven masked his smirk like a pro, but I knew him well enough to recognize it was a struggle. “Thank you. Eloquent and ladylike, as usual, Miss Penrose.” I curtsied with a bright smile as if he had meant it as a compliment. He turned back to Le Bone, holding up the phone I had given Dorian earlier tonight. The infamous playboy was as stealthy as he claimed, because no one had brought up his name so far.
“It seems Miss Penrose cloned your cellphone at some point. It shows time-stamped GPS coordinates matching two recent murders that you previously denied involvement in. It also has a convenient bank statement, downloaded earlier tonight, that shows all recent transactions as of…” he glanced down at the phone, tapping a few times on the screen before looking back up, “yesterday.”
Sinner: Feathers and Fire Book 5 Page 4