“The Enforcers had me delivering it to him,” I told Tarvers. “What for?”
“We use it in ink for special books for them,” the printer exec exclaimed.
“All of it?” Tarvers asked, locking gazes with the man again. He didn’t answer. The human had caught on to the only way to avoid incriminating yourself when speaking to an Alpha.
The big bear shifter shook his victim like a bear shakes a fish.
“All of it?” he repeated his demand.
“No,” Langley whispered, his voice broken as he slumped in Tarvers’s hands.
Before anyone could say or do anything in response to the human’s admission, the outer doors to the office flung open again to unleash a flurry of activity.
In a blur of motion, four men in black suits carrying bullpup assault rifles hit the ground in a kneeling row, the muzzles of the odd rectangular guns sweeping the room and settling in to each cover one of the shifters.
Two more Enforcers followed them through, flanking the door and covering me and the security guard. I realized that at least some of the bullets in the guns were cold iron, and I slowly stood up, raising my hands above my head.
A seventh man, his head shaven bald and the second-tallest person in the room after Tarvers’s giant frame, stalked into the office. Orichalcum tattoos wove across his visible flesh as he stepped through the firing line of his men.
“Tarvers,” Winters said flatly. “Put him down or my men will shoot you. The guns are bane- and cold iron–loaded. You will die before you reach them.”
“This man has dealt with vampires,” Tarvers growled. “By the authority of the Covenant, I claim the right to interrogate and judge him.”
“And I will point out that he is an employee of the Enforcers and hence of the Magus, and under his jurisdiction,” Winters, leader of the Enforcers, told the Alpha calmly. “Put. Him. Down.”
Tarvers dropped the human and turned to face Winters fully.
“I have traced lifesblood found in the possession of a vampire to this man,” he told the Enforcer. “This matter has nothing to do with the Enforcers. Leave.”
“As I said, this man is employed by us and hence under our jurisdiction,” Winters replied. “I will investigate your claims and advise you of our findings. Please leave; at this point, your presence will only impede the investigation.”
“One of your employees is passing heartstone to vampires, and you expect me to walk away?” Tarvers demanded.
“The authority to investigate these matters and deal with this alleged Vampire incursion falls to the Magus under the same Covenants you appealed to,” the Enforcer said. “I have the jurisdiction here, not you.”
“The Covenants don’t even mention you, you arrogant shit,” Tarvers told Winters. The distance between the two seemed to be shrinking without either of them noticeably moving. “The Wizard has failed in his obligations. I will investigate this attack on my Clan. Either stand aside or have the Wizard himself speak to me.”
“You aren’t worth the Wizard’s time,” Winters responded, his voice never changing from the same flat, level tone he’d been using since arriving. “That’s why we Enforcers were created, so that the pointless troubles of the lesser creatures of this city would not be carried to him.
“I will investigate your allegations,” he continued, “but right now, the only thing I have proof for is that you assaulted someone under the Magus’s protection. There will be sanctions leveled for this action.”
Tarvers laughed, literally in the Enforcer’s face. “You are a piddling little man,” he growled at the human. “The Magus signed the Covenants as one among equals, and you are nothing but servants. By relying on you, he has failed in his charge, and so I will tell him.
“We are done here; get out!” the massive shifter bellowed.
The image would forever be burnt into my mind. Six armed Enforcers, carrying weapons that could put down most of the other people in the room with a few shots, covered everyone in the room. Three wolf shifters faced them, their every muscle tensed as they readied to spring into action. A handful of humans and me, scattered around the outside watching the confrontation in horror.
And in the center, Tarvers, a bear shifter and a giant of a man, faced Gerard Winters, a smaller, shaven-headed man whose golden tattoos glowed gently on his flesh.
I could never say who struck first. One moment, the two men were still, facing each other amidst their followers, and then they were a blur of motion. Fists and claws slashed, and I could see Tarvers begin his transformation as the other Enforcers’ guns started to aim.
He never finished it. Before the Enforcers could open fire, the fight was over. Winters stood, panting slightly, with his suit jacket and shirt torn from his frame but his tattooed flesh unmarred. Tarvers’s body lay on the floor; his severed head dripping blood from Winters’s hands.
A glittering silver short sword was now visible in the Enforcer’s right hand, slowly dripping blood from its blade of bane. The other Enforcers’ guns snapped instantly back to the other shifters, cowing any further attack before it started.
Winters tossed the shifter’s head onto his corpse and turned to look at the other shifters.
“Take this carrion and get out,” he ordered.
18
FOR A LONG MOMENT, no one moved or did anything. Then I took a deep breath and stepped forward, aware that at least one gun barrel was following me as I moved, and carefully hooked my hands under Tarvers’s shoulders. I pointed with my chin for Barry to take the Alpha’s feet.
My movement started the shifters into motion as they quietly obeyed the orders of the man who’d just murdered their leader. I led them out, carefully avoiding looking at Winters. I don’t think I could have done so and stayed calm enough to continue this course.
The three shifters were in shock, but their reaction if that faded would be violent. Unless I kept them calm, I knew Winters would add more bodies to the count for today.
“Load him into the car,” I told them, my voice catching in mid-sentence. “Then follow my van.”
Barry nodded wordlessly, the shifters obeying me in silence.
I stepped away from them and started my van, checking to be sure that the black Hummer followed me out of the parking lot. I didn’t drive far, just enough to be completely out of view from the Ink Quill and any route the Enforcers would likely take to leave, and then pulled over.
“Why are we stopping?” Barry demanded, stepping out of the Hummer into the cold as I pulled my cellphone out.
“I hate politics,” I said aloud. “I don’t like it, I don’t understand it—and it just fucking killed a man I liked. We need help, and there’s only one other person at Tarvers’s level left.”
Gesturing the wolf shifter abruptly to silence, I called Oberis.
I got Laurie.
“What do you want?” the hag demanded.
“I need to speak to Lord Oberis,” I told her.
“He’s busy; you can speak to me,” she informed me.
“No,” I told her harshly. “I must speak to Lord Oberis.”
“You don’t get to decide that,” she said coldly. “Tell me what this is about and maybe I will let you talk to him.”
I hate politics.
“Alpha Tenerim is dead,” I said flatly. “I need to speak to Lord Oberis.”
“Oh,” she answered. “I’m sorry, Lord Oberis is simply not available,” she continued, her voice somewhat more polite now. “I will pass on your message as soon as I am able.”
She hung up on me, and I stared at my phone for a minute. Not available for the news of a major player’s death? That was a pretty spectacular level of “not available.”