“Special Agent Stanley.” He sounded calm, that remote and reserved calm of people who had high-stress jobs but kept all the reactions internalized. They either found a way to breathe through the stress—meditation or yoga or prayer or drug of choice—or they died early of heart attack, stroke, or eating their weapons.

“Stanley, we may have info about who put the bomb on the porch, or who hired it done. A friend of mine just called and told me he had been tor-”—I stopped, took a slow breath, and went on—“tortured for information about Leo Pellissier and about me. We don’t have a name yet.” I gave him the descriptions of the three who had hurt Reach. “My friend is a researcher so he had everything on Leo. And everything on me back to the first time I appeared in the world. Leo can take care of himself, but my people can’t. If I give you a list of names, places, and addresses, can you send local law enforcement to each and check for problems?”

“Does your friend need protective custody?”

“Too late for that,” I said, my chest hurting. I pressed a fist to my sternum, rubbing hard. “He’s gone underground.” I hope.

“Text the names and contact info to me.”

“Yes. I will. And thank you.”

“Part of my job, Miz Yellowrock.” He disconnected.

I told Alex to text the OIC all pertinent contact info on my address book. We discussed who was to be included and then I dialed Del. She sounded cool and collected when she answered, but I was getting ready to ruin that. “Jane here. Get Derek and Wrassler. Tell them Protocol Aardvark. They’ll know what to do. Eli will be joining you.”

“Aardvark?”

“Yeah. It used to be Groundhog, but it got activated on Groundhog Day one year and— Never mind. Just tell them. I put the updated security protocol handbook in the primo’s office in the file cabinet under S for security. Hard copy only. Initiate Aardvark immediately. Under Aardvark, everyone on security goes armed at all times.”

Del made a soft harrumphing sound. “If this is a practical joke, I will not be amused.”

“I know. It’s not. There’s a bomb at my house.” Which sounded so weird just saying it. “It’s probably on the local news.”

“A bomb?” There was a moment of silence before Del said, “I’ll make sure that all necessary protocols are instituted.”

“Thanks. Meanwhile, are any vamps and followers known to wear bird tattoos?”

I could hear her tapping on a tablet or keyboard. “Blood-servants and followers of a vampire called Peregrinus,” she said after only a moment. “Why?”

“A human wearing bird wristband tattoos and a female vamp tortured Reach to get my info. A male vamp watched.”

“Dear God.” The words came out as a gasp. “The Devil and Batildis are here.” And then she added on the fragments of a breath, “Peregrinus.” The last word was whispered, as if to speak the name aloud was to summon the vamp.

“Does this mean the EuroVamps are here early?”

“No. The Three have never followed the lead of the European Council. They are outlaws. And they are utterly and totally vile.” The call ended. Del had sounded horrified. Or maybe terrified, if that was worse.

That was me, spreading good cheer everywhere I go. The Devil, Batildis, and Peregrinus, I thought. I’d heard the name Batildis recently. Leo had mentioned the name when talking to Grégoire. “Your brother and your sister Batildis have begun to rally their supporters to this end. And yes, that might eventually mean the interest of Le Bâtard, though he is not scheduled to travel to these shores . . .” I could guess that Le Bâtard was Grégoire’s sire, his brother was Peregrinus, his sister was Batildis, and the Devil was their human blood-servant. How evil and twisted did you have to be to have the nickname of the Devil among vamps and blood-servants?

“Alex, followers of a vamp named Peregrinus wear bird jewelry. He and people named the Devil and Batildis are likely in town.” I told him what I knew and guessed about the vamps, which wasn’t much.

“On it. The Devil, Batildis, and Peregrinus. Gotta love vamp names and their flair for the dramatic,” he grumbled. “Why can’t they just be John Smith or Sally Jones?”

I dialed Bruiser and he answered, “I am delighted to hear you’re in one piece, Jane.”

Instantly I flushed and walked away from the group. “You know about the bomb?”

“I do. I was assured you’re safe.”

His tone was odd, like maybe I should have called him first. I wasn’t sure. “Yeah. So far,” I said. And decided to pretend that I hadn’t maybe done something wrong by not calling him immediately, and concentrate on the important stuff taking place. “People who sound like the Devil, Batildis, and Peregrinus tortured Reach a week ago. Seven days.” I was proud that my voice sounded calm and sane, though the words themselves were enough to send me screaming into the night. “He just called and told me. He gave me up. He gave up Leo and probably you and Katie and Grégoire. Everything in his database has to be considered compromised. I’m instituting Protocol Aardvark. Del, Wrassler, and Derek will bring in all the outlying vamps and servants, and get them settled at HQ. They’re good at their jobs, but they aren’t you.”

“No, they aren’t. I’m on the council house premises. I’ll get with them. You should consider bringing your people to the council house until this is resolved. Satan’s Three are dangerous, Jane, more so than any other ménage à trois in all of Mithrandom.”

Satan’s Three. Wow, the people after me even had a title. Moving to HQ sounded like a pretty good idea on the surface. Nothing short of a rocket launcher was getting inside the place now. Of course, anything that went in might have trouble getting out. Like me, if Leo actually got his talons on me in his lair. And there was that saying about putting all one’s eggs in one basket. If we were all in one spot, then we’d be easy to find. “I’ll think about it.”

I could hear the smile in Bruiser’s voice when he said, “We’re short on space at the moment, and things will only get tighter with Aardvark in place. You might have to bunk in with someone.”

Heat exploded through me, tightening things low in my belly. And suddenly I didn’t feel so worried or dark. “Yeah?” Oh. Pithy comeback, Jane.