Leo smiled, his demeanor changing along with his peppery scent, growing more heated, like aged paper held close to a candle flame. “I do need you. All the Mithrans need you to prepare for the Europeans’ visit. Your witches need you. Especially now, my Enforcer.

“Joses Bar-Judas is free. He gives evidence of being much more sane than anticipated, to have succeeded at such a feeding. That demonstration”—Leo flicked his fingers at the screen—“required intense control.”

“Demonstration?” I repeated. “That was no demonstration. That was mass murder.”

“Out of fifty-two humans, he drained only five, leaving behind deliberate and ample confirmation that he controlled the rest of them with his mind alone. He was leaving evidence. Proof of his power.” Leo tilted his head, watching me, taking a breath of my anger and the smell of death clinging to me. “When Joses was hung on the wall, electricity had only just come to the city. There were no such things as cameras to record his prowess or his ability to control his cattle. I doubt he has had time, or will take time, to educate himself on all the technological marvels of this present era.”

I had already figured that out. He’d had no idea he was being filmed. And that lack of knowledge on Joses’ part might help us to find him. I pulled my cell and texted orders to Alex for the upcoming search. To look through traffic and security cameras around the kill bar until he found which way JBJ was headed. I expected the Kid was already doing that, but I needed to cover all my bases.

As I keyed in the text, Leo said, “You may give the police the heart of Joses Bar-Judas. The rest of him you will give to me, including his head, to bargain against the Europeans. Agreed?”

There was something wrong in there, though I couldn’t tell what exactly. I hit SEND and met Leo’s gaze, hesitating. The MOC lifted a single eyebrow, managing to appear both patient and amused. “Can he survive without his heart?” I asked.

“Can anything survive without a heart?”

It wasn’t an answer, but telling me including his head didn’t mean that Joses’ head had to still be attached. Leo wouldn’t have said the words unless he meant them exactly the way he phrased them. Wiggle room. He was giving me wiggle room. Or there was something else afoot. This negotiation might give me a way to dance through all the possible dangers suggested by Sabina. I’d have to think about it.

I said, “The New Orleans Police Department will see you today. Tonight or this morning. At your convenience or not, they really don’t care. And frankly, neither do I. I have about ten minutes before I have to gear up and get back to that scene”—I tilted my head at the TV screen, where Joses Bar-Judas was still killing humans, over and over—“that scene that stinks of the death of Joses’ demonstration. I have to address the media—in your name or without it, it’s up to you. And I have to promise the populace of this city that I’ll find the monster who killed their people and bring their sense of safety back.” I’d cut off the head of Bar-Judas and offer it up to the citizens of New Orleans on a silver platter if I could figure out how to do it without starting a war, but I didn’t say it.

Leo looked away, his eyes moving up and to the left, the way some humans’ eyes do when they’re recalling something. “His heart to the keepers of the peace. Ironic.” His eyebrows pulled down into a slight scowl that might have been remembered dread. “That is how it began the last time—rioting in the streets.”

I wanted to ask him what last time he was talking about, but I didn’t have time for a history lesson.

He said, “I have lost much of the power of my house this night. To kill the maker of us all would be to lose it all, everything and everyone. Yet I understand that I have no choice but to put a price upon the heart of the Son of Darkness.” Leo looked a little lost, a little uncertain; then the smile widened and the calculation snapped back in his gaze. “I accept your temporary resignation as Enforcer. I will hire Jane Yellowrock, vampire hunter, to track the . . . Did you call him a monster? Yes, the monster, who killed the humans. To track him and to take his heart.

“Tell the witch-child policewoman she is welcome here during the night or the day. I am at her command. Should she decide to await the night for her interview, I will make myself available at New Orleans Police Department, at their central headquarters’ location, for the duration of the dark, to provide what answers I may to the questions by any and all law enforcement officials. My attorney will attend me.

“No matter how the police may wish to handle the law enforcement portion of this hunt, I will hold a press conference at dusk, in the front drive, provided there is no rain, and in the ballroom should inclement weather dictate.”

Leo stared at me. “As to the hunt for the monster, as I told you, his modern name was not Joses son of Judas Iscariot.” He pronounced it Yo-sace, son of Ioudas Issachar. “The name he used to enter this country was Joseph Santana. That is the name you will tender to the police and use in discourse with me and my people, and among your team, henceforward. Any other name will mean nothing to the officials and may place us in more imminent danger.”

One good thing. It was a lot easier for my American mouth to pronounce.

He punched a button on his desk and Adelaide Mooney said, “Yes, sir.”

“Come to my office, Primo. We have plans to make. And send for my Enforcer, Derek Lee, to join us.”

“On my way, sir,” she said.

The MOC placed both hands flat on his desk, leaning forward slightly, staring at me. “The lair apartment which Joseph Santana used on his royal visit here, from which he disappeared, over a century past, is still intact. I will see that Adelaide sends you the address. Perhaps you will detect something there that I missed, so long ago.”

“I’m not sure how that will help me catch him now,” I said. Leo lifted a brow, ever the elegant and refined killing machine. I decided on a new tack. “‘So long ago.’ You mean when you took him prisoner and told the rest of the vamps that he was simply missing?”

Leo smiled, and he suddenly looked far less human and far more like the lethal predator he was. When he spoke, he sounded the soft, deadly killer that he hid from the world. “Oui, mon petit chat. That is one version of the old tale. There are others. Once in his apartment, you may scent out the ones now helping him from the tangled scents of the day he was taken prisoner. You may find papers that might show where he has gone to ground. And somewhere here, I may have other such papers, if they were salvaged when my clan home burned, and if they were brought here.”