“But when you drink another vamp, you can’t cut off the stories in the blood. They’re too strong— you have to listen. It’s so confusing it’s dangerous. Just not a smart thing to do.” She traced her finger along his neck and up and around his ear, enjoying the way he shivered in response. “But in formal combat among princes it’s traditional for the winner to drain the loser to the dregs. This is so the knowledge of that leader isn’t lost from the race—only transferred. That’s the only reason I’d ever drink vamp blood.”
Frank said, “I’m going to puke. Seriously.”
Alya glanced over at him. Matthew was pleasantly warm and smelled of soap and coffee. If she had her druthers, she’d be feeding off his fine naked body that moment instead of jerking Frank around.
“If I were you, Frank, I wouldn’t be worried about puking. I’d be worried whether I’d be off that winch before dawn. The sun will come through that window bit by bit. You won’t go fast, that’s for certain. And we won’t be around to help you if you change your mind.”
“I’m not a goddamn rat!”
“Suit yourself. What else do you have for me, Dominick? Oh, wait. Matthew, will you lend poor Frank your iPod?”
Dominick took the iPod from Matthew and poked the buds into Frank’s ears.
Frank said, “I hate Emo.” Dominick smiled and adjusted the controls. Alya suspected he’d just hit “repeat” and raised the volume.
“Latest information out of New York says Faustin himself might go to Minnesota.”
Alya clapped her hands. “You bring me nothing but happiness, my wild Irish spring. I’m so glad to hear the Faustins are as predictable as I remembered.”
Maya, one of her favorite feeders, walked in, swinging a Chinese takeout container. Her red, white and blue polyester mini dress, gleaned from some thrift store bargain bin, clashed loudly and cheerfully with Alya’s Zen-minimal office. The smell of cooked meat drifting out of that takeout container made Alya’s nose twitch, but she let the girl have her food. Maya gave Dominick a flirtatious wink then leaned over to kiss Alya. Their tongues touched and Alya caught a hint of the delicate flavor of Maya’s blood.
“Long time no see,” Maya said, her voice breathy.
“You all fattened up?” Feeders had to have breaks between visits—otherwise they turned anemic. For that reason she had a large, precisely managed stable of them.
“I’m brimming with goodness.” She turned to Matthew. “Tina told me I was on today.”
Matthew stretched lazily, his shirt riding up to reveal a tempting expanse of lean belly. “You snooze you lose, M.”
Maya stuck her tongue out at him, dropped onto the opposite sofa and tucked into her Chinese. She may or may not have been aware that everyone could see her red knickers. “What’s all this I’ve been hearing about Minnesota? Why’s everyone mad at them?”
Alya said, “Where to begin? A consortium of crazy hicks from the North Woods has overthrown the city families—the decent vamps. These northern families have gone feral. They’re drinking beast blood— moose, deer, beaver, heaven knows what. And worse, they’re preaching that we should all eat that way.”
Dominick made a face at the thought of it, but Maya, being human, shrugged. “And that’s bad?”
“It’s bad, trust me. They’re leaving drained carcasses around for the authorities to find. That’s causing talk. And you know how much we like talk. And the Faustins especially don’t like talk.”
Through a mouthful of food Maya said, “So he’s just going to take over the state because he doesn’t like their dietary choices? What a fascist.”
Alya shrugged. The Faustins definitely had fascist tendencies, but in this case she understood. “I don’t blame him. If they’ve sunk to eating animals, they’re obviously not going to care about keeping up appearances. And if the rest of the families could be thrown over by these lunatics, they’re incapable of defending their own territory. It’s easier just to take over.”
It was convenient for the Faustins to involve themselves so actively in Minnesota. She’d been waiting for years for an opportunity to take New York, and finally her patience had paid off. Her intelligence told her the Faustins were in a particularly weak moment. If she could just get Mikhail out of Manhattan, she could take it. He’d never get it back.
The problem was Mikhail was a homebody. Not only did he never leave New York, he spent all his time on the streets with his ear to the ground. So she’d been skirmishing with his people in Minnesota, pretending she wanted it. It looked like she’d almost lured him out.
“Dom, I want you to put out a rumor that we’re going to hit the North Woods, the whole territory, not just Minnesota. Move some of your men up there, have them make themselves conspicuous. Say we’re going to take out their leader…who is he again?”
“Halverson.”
“Yes. Say we’re going after him. Say I’m coming kill him myself and make a formal claim. That will get Faustin on a plane right away—along with his lieutenants. Soon as he leaves for Minnesota, we’ll stroll into Manhattan.”
That idea made her very happy. New York City was a vampire’s paradise, and she hadn’t been able to set foot there for thirty years. She wanted it. Bad.
“What about pere Faustin?”
“Way past his prime. And the brothers are no match for me. Mikhail is the only one we have to worry about.”
“Your Majesty?”
Alya slid out from under Matthew and went to crouch by Frank’s head. His head resembled an eggplant. Remarkably so. She pulled off the earbuds. “Yes?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Astonishing.”
“It’s not fair. You drink vamp blood, and no one kills you for it. And then what about those whatchyacall them? Bonded mates?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had feelings for Jason.”
“No! What I’m saying is why am I going to die for tapping that asshole when all this other shit going on and that’s okay?”
Dominick strolled over and looked down at Frank with folded arms. “Sure now, we haven’t sunk to citing medieval customs for our defense, have we? Though I must admit I’m impressed you know any medieval history at all.”
“Fair is fair, that’s all.”
“I don’t think this argument is going to save you, Frank.” She popped the earbuds back in and gave him another twirl.
The intercom buzzed. Alya went to her desk to answer it. “Ms. Adad, I have a call from security. Mikhail Faustin and his attorney, Joshua Silver, are downstairs.”
“You’re joking.”
“No, Ms. Adad. They say they’ve come to…parlay?”
Alya’s skin prickled. Never speak the Devil’s name.
Chapter Three
She widened her eyes at Dominick, covering her mouth in mock horror. But he, of course, turned dead serious. “Should I go downstairs?”
“Security will screen them. Stay here.” She waved at Maya, Matthew and dangling Frank—who couldn’t hear her. “All of you can stay and watch history unfold. I don’t know if a Faustin has ever set foot in California.”
To the intercom she said, “Tell security to send them up once they’re cleared.”
Alya settled herself behind her large desk. She swept a few pens, paper clips and notes into her top drawer, then took them out again. She wouldn’t tidy up for Mikhail Faustin.
Why would Mikhail ever—ever—visit her?
It must have to do with Minnesota. But why a parlay now?
She wasn’t worried about him ambushing her. If his intention were murder, he wouldn’t come to her office under a flag of truce. If Mikhail struck, it would be a complete surprise, scrupulously planned, utterly devastating and yet perfectly legal under vamp law. That was how he’d taken out all his enemies thus far. So she had to assume he had some sort of legitimate business with her.