“And in Natchez, where I was sent by Leo Pellissier, I was able to bring down what the Mithrans call Naturaleza vampires, the ones that treat humans like cattle, like possessions. The vampires here in New Orleans treat humans like . . .” I almost said equals, then almost said friends, and ended up with: “valued employees, with contracts, rights, and importance. It’s my job to take the Naturaleza kind of vampire out. The kind that kill humans. The crazy ones. Even the very rare, powerful ones, like the ones capable of holding armed and trained cops, families, and innocents immobile and seemingly . . .” Words failed me, and I floundered until I came up with: “tranquil, under the power of compulsion, the power of their minds, and drink them down at leisure. The police, especially state-level bureaucrats, don’t have the training, equipment, or expertise to accomplish the kinds of hunts that Yellowrock Securities has always done so well.”

“Hooah,” Eli murmured softly, using the syllables left over from his army days that meant lots of different things, all of them good. I had no idea what I’d said that made him so happy, but it didn’t really matter.

I stared out over the crowd, feeling the sunrise. My injured arm was aching. I wished I had some water. My mind was blank. Oh. Crap. Where was I?

As if sensing my budding panic and reading my empty mind, Eli opened a bottle of water and placed it in my hand. I drank and handed it back.

“Thanks. Sorry. I’m not used to public speaking. Anyway. Um. Right. Killing insane vamps, even powerful ones, is what I do. It’s what Yellowrock Securities does. As of this morning I have informed the Master of the City, Leo Pellissier, that come dusk I will no longer be under his employment. At dusk, I will accept a writ from the Mithran Council . . .” I paused and made sure to frame my words to the contract that Leo was offering. “. . . to track the killer and bring him down. At that time I will also accept a similar contract from the mayor and the governor. I need a contract from each, to cover any territories I might need to enter in the course of this hunt.”

“So what’ll you be doing until night?” a reporter shouted.

“Why do you need three contracts?” another shouted.

“Yeah,” a slurred voice agreed from the edge of the crowd. “Sittin’ on your ass all day?”

“Was it a young rogue, escaped from the MOC’s lair?” another reporter shouted, others on the edge of her words.

“Pellissier let one go?”

“Yeah! None of us are safe, not with fangheads in this town!”

I raised my voice and leaned into the mic. “Until dusk, my partners and I will be using the resources of the police department and the Master of the City’s libraries to research the Mithran database for any intelligence we can find about the rogue vamp. For now, I will tell you that it was not a young rogue vampire. And we already have a name, courtesy of the Master of the City.”

I smelled Jodi’s and the state cop’s shock and paid it no heed. The crowd shouted, words and questions overlapping, anger and curiosity like a toxic haze on the already scent-laden air. I softened my voice and the crowd quieted to hear, as I said, “Just prior to this news conference, I shared the name that the rogue vampire last used with NOPD. Yellowrock Securities will work directly with Jodi Richoux, under contract with the Mithrans, and under direct orders of the governor of the great state of Louisiana, to find and dispatch this rogue-Naturaleza vampire, who is a danger even to the Mithrans in this city.”

“Wait! You’re telling us that the killer will kill vampires too?” a woman in front shouted.

“Yeah.” I remembered the sub-five basement at vamp HQ. My voice dropped even more, to a bare murmur that made them quieten and shush one another. “He already has, striking at the Council Chambers, killing Mithrans before he killed here, among the city’s humans. He got away, leaving bodies behind. Leo Pellissier wants him stopped too.”

“That’s a bunch of bunkum,” a reporter shouted into his own open mic. A gold cross caught the light on his work shirt. “All vampires are killers! They need to be staked!”

“Judge not lest you be judged,” I paraphrased mildly, before his anger could spread into the crowd again, turning the gathering into a mob. “‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.’ ‘This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.’ You wear a cross. Be careful which scriptures you pick and choose from to give you a reason to hate. My understanding is that the Almighty gets kinda riled at hate of any kind.”

The world whirled around me and I stepped back from the mic, ignoring questions shouted from the reporters and the human observers. Taking the water bottle from Eli, I drained it. “Got another?” I asked him. He pulled a second bottle from his gobag. “Mr. Prepared.”

“Always. Nice speech. You pee in your pants?”

I spluttered with laughter and the tension that had clamped down on my body eased, the world only wobbly now, not spinning. “No. Thankfully.”

“Good. Let’s get outta here before things turn ugly.” I followed him to the SUV and climbed in, rolling up the windows. They were tinted for vamps, so no one could see in. I ripped off the weapons and the sweaty jacket and threw them into the backseat, massaging my arm. Eli concentrated on getting us out of the mob.

* * *

As we rode through the sunrise, a pinking of the gray clouds, Eli asked, “So. About your career in politics.”

“Shut up or I’ll hurt you,” I said, knowing I sounded pouty, rather than like any kind of a threat.

He slanted a look my way. “You did good.”

I looked out the window, surprised and embarrassed by the kindness and pride in his tone and not knowing what to say. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever been proud of me before. It felt weird.

As if he knew that, Eli changed the subject. “How do we track the Son of Darkness? How do we kill the Big Bad Pure Ancient Evil that made the suckheads? Because, while I’m going to enjoy that immensely, it sounds . . . difficult,” he said, the pause suggesting that he had come up with and discarded other terms, like unmanageable, unachievable, even impossible.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know if killing him will make things worse, like Leo said, or better, like my gut tells me. Our contract with Leo says we can take his heart, but I don’t know if that will kill him or not.”