But . . . dang.

Leo pulled Ed close and guided him around the big desk, to the back, toward a chair on the end. Leo flipped a small brass nameplate up. It said HEIR OF NEW ORLEANS and, below that, Ed’s name. Edmund looked drunk. Great. A blood-drunk primo. Just what I needed. Not. Ed walked behind the dais and fell into his chair, sticking his thumb into the air. It was still bleeding, just a bit, a single drop that spiraled down his thumb, despite the fact that vamp saliva clotted blood quickly.

Leo, back around front, said, “Katherine and Alesha Fonteneau. The Master of the City requires your presence.” This was said without a rise in magic. And without a hint of a smile.

The sisters, looking more alike now that they were well fed and healed of their injuries, came to the dais. The two blond women dropped deep curtsies, long silk dresses shushing in the still-as-undeath air.

Leo pulled a sword that sounded as if the blade were taking a breath in the silence. “Katherine and Alesha Fonteneau. You have dishonored your vows,” he said. “You have worked with our enemies, those who came from Europe to harm us, to conquer our territory, first by stealth and witch magic, by the raising of revenants, and now by the Sangre Duello. Katie, you did not trust us to save you or your sister, Madam Spy. You aided our enemies instead. You have endangered us all. How do you plead?”

I looked at the drain in the floor. I tried to catch Bruiser’s eyes, but he was staring at the place where the edge of the blade rested on Katie’s shoulder, at her neck. Katie. Leo’s lover. Leo’s friend.

“I plead guilty, my master and my friend,” Katie said. “I did not trust that you would find a way to fulfill your vows to the city, defeat your enemies, and still save Alesha. I was a fool.”

“Yes,” Leo said, his face human in his hurt. “Are you disloyal, my Katherine?”

“Never, Leo, my love, my best friend, my master.”

“Do you trust me now, Katie?”

“I trust you with my undeath. With my heart.” She leaned into the blade and a sliver of blood appeared at her neck where her shoulder sloped. She was cutting herself on Leo’s sword. My entire body tensed and I prepared to leap to protect the bare necks of . . . of two who were technically Leo’s enemies. His friends and lovers. But enemies. Who had shared a bath with him only recently. Right. But. Indecision raked me with claws. Before I could decide to act, Katie continued, “With my blood. With my true-death should you demand it. I ask only that you protect my sister when you take my head, Leo, my love.”

And danged if Leo, the Master of the City of New Orleans and most of the Southeastern United States, the baddest of the big, bad fanged uglies, didn’t have a pale pink tear gliding down his face. “Will you come to me with your fears and with your heart?” Leo asked her.

“Always. I will never fail you again. I will trust you. I will fight with you. I follow your orders without fear.”

Leo lifted the sword and placed it on the ebony table, where it settled with a rattle of steel on wood. He held out his hand. “I will drink of you and you of me. We will know one another blood-to-blood, heart-to-heart, before these, our friends.” Katie placed her hand in his and stood; with the little knife, Leo stabbed down. Then he stabbed his own thumb and, as he took her thumb into his mouth, she took his. Katie groaned as if they were alone in bed. Her head went back and her knees went weak. Leo caught her and held her close. Katie’s back arched . . .

Just ewww. It was a little too much sex and blood for me. I looked away and kicked Alex to look away too. He ignored me. Katie moaned again. Ick.

When the public mutual licking and moaning was finally over with, Leo said, “Katherine Fonteneau, you are heart of my heart.”

“And soul of my soul,” Katie whispered to him.

“But I cannot allow you to remain with me.”

“No,” she whispered. “Leo, my love, no!”

Leo took a breath that sounded thick and painful. “You are banished from my clan home, you and your sister Alesha.” Katie, who had been mostly standing during the blood reading, fell to her knees, one arm outstretched as if pleading, her hand still in Leo’s. Her face blanched; her mouth hung open. She sobbed silently.

I could smell her horror and her fear. I had read about banishment. Being banished meant being taken to a wilderness and set free, far from the nearest human. Not that there was such a place in this day and age.

“You are now”—Leo smiled gently at her—“Blood Master of Clan Fonteneau and banished to Atlanta, where you will take up the mantle as Master of the City.”

“No!” Katie shouted, her fists bunching as if to sock him. She jerked back on the one in Leo’s hand, whipping against him. He held firm and she struggled, almost growling, “I refuse to be master of clan or city.”

Okay. That was a surprise. A vamp refusing power? Alesha, at her side, was still as stone, her eyes slowly vamping out.

Katie’s voice rose and she yanked against his hold. “I refuse the city. I am made for pleasure, not boardrooms. I am made for beds, not negotiations. Tu sais ça!”

I recognized the phrase. You know this. I had been among the French-speaking vamps too dang long. I was understanding French.

Leo actually laughed and, with the back of his free hand, wiped his face clean of the tear track. “Dearest Katherine. Katherine, mon amour, you have ruled this city and her humans for a hundred years, through the web of hedonism and decadence. Did you think I was so foolish that I did not know? Did you think me unaware that Katie’s Ladies was the center of your web? That you had spun silken snares about your clients and victims? That they smiled in pleasure and desire as you strangled them in a snarl of coercion and bled them dry of favors with extortion? You have been my hand to power for far too many years to count. You have served me, even as you led.”

Katie went still, standing, her body bladed to Leo, as if she might yet fight. Or as if she might pull away and run. Or as if she might pull a weapon and kill her master. “Je ne régnerai pas.” I will not . . . something.

“You will,” Leo insisted. “You will rule as Master of the City of Atlanta, as the Blood Master of Clan Fonteneau, with your heir Alesha at your side and your Enforcer Ro Moore as your sword and Tom as your primo.”

Katie’s eyes were wide and frenzied, shooting to every person and every corner of the room as if looking for allies or a way out. And then Katie heard what Leo had said. He had given her an Enforcer only a few days past. He had now given her an heir. He had . . . he had been planning this for a while. Leo was making a new clan, one loyal to him.

Then it hit me. The MOC was making more than one new clan tonight. He was rebuilding his power base.

Leo smiled into Katie’s dawning realization. “You have all you need to govern and control Atlanta. You will care for her Mithrans and convert her murderous Naturaleza to the way of the Mithran. You will ensnare and protect her helpless cattle, her politicians, and her moneyed and powerful.” He paused. “And you will swear to me as master and ruler of the Southeastern United States of America.”

Katie’s eyes flashed black fire. “You bastard,” she hissed.

“Au contraire.” Leo lifted her hand and kissed her fisted fingers. “I am the son of my father, planted in my mother’s belly, born in wedlock. My name is listed in the family Bible and recorded in official parish papers.” Leo was laughing at her.

Katie’s fangs dropped down slowly with a faint click of the hinges. Her eyes vamped out—the sclera bled scarlet and the pupils went wide, eclipsing the irises, black holes in a bloody sea. “For how many years have you planned this?”

“It was never planned, my love, but this move has been on the board forever.”

“I refuse! You need me here. You need me to fight at your side. You need me to ensnare our ancient enemy once again. I will not leave you.”

Leo pulled her into an embrace and said gently, sweetly, “Then I will have my Onorios take you and your sister to the mountains of Georgia, far from the nearest habitation of cattle, far from the nearest protection from daylight, far from food and safety. They will drain you both, in the Onorio way, and drop you from a helicopter.”