She nodded, patient. “Okay. So what do you want?”

What did he want? “Scarlett, until a few hours ago I was going for the world record in pajama sulking. I have no idea what I want.”

Her eyes probed him. “A job?”

Jesse looked up sharply. Scarlett hurried to add, “Hey, it’s just you and me here. You can admit that you absolutely love this shit.”

He closed his eyes, feeling like she’d struck him. He had loved working Old World cases in the past. They were complicated, exciting, and he’d always played an active role—so much better than doing the dull grunt work so senior detectives could take the credit. He’d been important, and that was intoxicating. Who didn’t want to be important at their job?

Jesse opened his eyes. “You’re right, I loved it,” he said. “But I didn’t love what it did to me.”

“I will not ask you to help me destroy any bodies,” she said firmly. “I won’t ask you to hurt anyone unless it’s to save lives. And I promise that when we find the people who did this, you will get a say in how they are punished.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “Can you really promise that?”

Scarlett drew herself up to her full height. “I’m not a naive kid anymore, Jesse. If those are your conditions, let’s go back and pitch them. I’ve got your back.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. It wasn’t a romantic gesture, but Jesse felt his pulse trip anyway, like his body was just hardwired to react to her.

They went back to the others, who gave no sign that they’d overheard anything. As Scarlett listed Jesse’s conditions they all nodded passively, until she got to the last part. “If Jesse helps me find these guys, he deserves the right to have a vote in what happens to them.” Before anyone could respond, she added, “Which means there will be five of us. The vote can’t be split.”

The three leaders all lifted their eyebrows at the same time, which was a little funny, but Jesse was too startled to enjoy it. He’d thought she would ask that he could address the four of them before they did anything; he hadn’t expected her to actually push for him to vote.

But Kirsten, Will, and Dashiell all looked at each other, and he could practically read their thoughts: even with Jesse getting a vote, it would be the three of them against him and Scarlett. The odds looked good for the Old World.

“You have a deal,” Dashiell said, holding out his hand. Jesse took it, surprised. Dashiell had never initiated a handshake before.

“What do you need from us?”

“Access to Molly,” Scarlett said promptly. “We need to talk to her.”

Dashiell was already shaking his head. “Forget Molly. Finding the boundary witch should be your priority.”

Jesse could practically see steam coming from Scarlett’s ears, so he jumped in. “Molly obviously wasn’t chosen at random. We need to ask her about her enemies. Her history.”

“I’ve never let any prisoners have visitors before,” Dashiell said. “And there are too many people at the mansion we might not be able to trust. For all we know, the boundary witch pressed one of my people to report any suspicious activity.”

He had a point. “What if we came to see her during the day?” he suggested. “Scarlett can wake her up and we can ask questions then.”

The vampire looked thoughtful. “Hold on a moment,” he said. He pulled out his cell phone and began scrolling through what looked like a calendar app. After a moment, he looked up and said, “I think I can make that work. At noon, just before shift change, there’s an hour where only Abigail and Theodore Hayne will be in the house. If you come then, Hayne can bring you to Molly, and Abigail can make sure the video cameras don’t record it.”

Most of Dashiell’s daytime security people were typical employees—well paid, competent, insured employees, but typical nonetheless. The Haynes were different. They were human, but their family had hundreds of years of service to Dashiell. Theodore Hayne was also Kirsten’s ex-husband, and when Jesse had met him years earlier, it had been obvious that he still cared for her. The Haynes were fully invested in keeping the LA Old World intact.

Then a new thought occurred to Jesse. “I know you trust their loyalty, but could the Haynes be pressed?” he asked.

Scarlett shook her head. “Hayne was pressed once, years ago. Since then, Kirsten keeps them both in regular witch bags. They’re clean.”

Jesse nodded. In the past he had used one of the little charm bags that the witches created to protect humans from being affected by magic. The witch bags that protected against vampires couldn’t prevent the human from being drained of blood, but it could protect them from being pressed—or turned into a vampire. “Okay. Noon.”

“I need to get back to the mansion,” Dashiell said, checking his watch. “I’ve already been away too long. Oh.” He stepped toward Jesse, pulling out his wallet. “You may have to buy supplies or gas,” he said, and held out a small plastic rectangle. A credit card.

Surprised, Jesse took the card, a teal-blue Visa. “Anything you need,” the vampire intoned. “I’m not planning to ask for receipts.”

There was no name printed on the card, just a number. “What if someone asks for my ID?” Jesse asked.

Dashiell gave him a broad smile, like he’d told a very funny joke. “Trust me, it’s not going to happen.”

“Don’t forget,” Kirsten reminded Scarlett, “you need to be at the Trials by six.”

“I can push Molly’s trial to the second night,” Dashiell added, “but no further. You need to catch these people before then.”

Jesse could see Scarlett clenching her jaw, but she nodded. Dashiell hesitated for a heartbeat, and then added, “Above all, we need to look united. Everyone is watching us to see how the Trials unfold. If we cannot catch these people before Molly’s sentencing, Scarlett will still need to sit at the table.”

Jesse glanced at Scarlett, who was giving him an incredulous look. Before she could do more than open her mouth, Dashiell raised a hand, his face grave. “Yes. Per your usual responsibilities, you’ll be there as we execute her.”

Chapter 13

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

At my tone, Shadow lifted her head and looked suspiciously around the room, trying to figure out who may have wronged me. I reached down with one hand and patted her back. Dashiell just looked at me with an infuriatingly implacable expression. Why was I so surprised? Wasn’t this just classic Dashiell? In fact, years earlier we’d even been in this same position, only I was the one with my head on the chopping block if I couldn’t figure out who’d killed three vampires in La Brea Park. I glanced at Will and Kirsten, but they were avoiding my eyes, which stung all over again. For some naive, stupid reason, I had thought we’d made progress.

Apparently some things about the Old World never change. And it made me feel like a helpless little girl . . . which was my cue to say something smartass enough to get in trouble.

“You—” I began, but Jesse grabbed my elbow and began propelling me toward the doorway.

“Forget it, Scar,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s Chinatown.”

I allowed him to pull me out into the parking lot, with Shadow trotting happily along behind us. Whenever I was in a room with the Old World leaders, Shadow’s demeanor was more like a Secret Service agent than anything else. She was always glad to get away from the tension.

As soon as we were through the outer door, I shook free and rounded on Jesse. “Okay, first of all, good movie reference, and second, aren’t you the guy who was just upset about Old World tactics?” I demanded. “They’re going to kill her, Jesse!”

“No, they’re not,” he said, shooting me a devilish grin. “Because we’re going to find these assholes first.”

“Jesse—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “But you’re not going to talk Dashiell out of his plan tonight. The more information we find, the better your case will be if it does come down to an argument. Okay?”