Thirty minutes later, we walked into the office of High Councilman Orpheus—no last name, like Sting, only with less tantric sex—of the Ancient Venerable Hekate Council. But it wasn’t Orpheus who drew my gaze and made me stop in my tracks.


Slade had mentioned she was in town, but I certainly hadn’t expected to see her right then: Tanith Severinus, Exalted Despina of the Lilim. She’d given herself the fancy title when she became sole ruler of the vampire race two months earlier. I’m not sure how her closest friends referred to her now, but I still called her “the Bitch.”


For an ancient vampiress with total power over an entire race, you’d figure she’d have enough money to do something about her unfortunate appearance. Between the rusty mess of curls on her head, the bulbous Roman nose, and the cleft chin that resembled a butt crack, she’d lost the beauty lottery and then been beaten with the ugly stick for good measure. I wish I could say her insides made up for the unfortunate outsides, but they didn’t. I’m not sure if the doctors surgically inserted the bug up her ass or if she’d been born with it, but a less personable vampire I’d never met—with the exception of my own grandmother, but even she managed to crack a smile every now and then in between attempts on my life.


When she saw me enter, her lips puckered up like an anus. “Mr. Lazarus.” She nodded regally like she was balancing a tiara on her head instead of a mop of kinky frizz. “Sabina.”


“Hey, Tanith.” Her eyes narrowed at my use of her given name. Too damned bad. I wasn’t her underling anymore. “I wish I could say it’s been too long, but—you know.”


The last time we’d seen each other was three months earlier just after we’d returned to the Seelie Court fresh from our victory over Lavinia and the Caste of Nod in Louisiana. Not long enough in my opinion.


“Orpheus tells me you’ve settled right into mage life,” she said. “I wish I could say it’s a surprise you shed your illustrious vampire heritage so easily but—you know.”


The corner of my mouth twitched. As implied insults go, it wasn’t half bad. Alluding to the shame of my mixed blood was a smooth move on her part, but I was beyond caring what any vampire thought of me, especially a former Domina.


“I was hoping to meet that twin of yours,” Tanith continued. “I’ve been told she is your mirror image.”


I opened my mouth to respond, but Orpheus interrupted. “Maisie has gone into seclusion to meditate and prepare for sharing a prophecy at the Imbolc festival.”


I flinched in confusion. Why was he lying to Tanith?


“Ah, yes,” the Despina said. “I understand. I must admit I’m quite eager to hear what the Oracle has to say about our new future as allies.”


Orpheus cleared his throat. “As am I.” He shifted and shot me a meaningful look. I wasn’t sure if it was a warning to keep my mouth shut or a promise that he’d explain his reasoning later, but I held my tongue either way. I was no more eager to discuss Maisie’s situation with Tanith than Orpheus was.


“Let’s begin,” Orpheus said. “We don’t have much time before we have to get on a conference call with Queen Maeve.”


“Why hasn’t the Queen come to the city for the meetings?” Adam asked, taking a seat next to me.


“She refuses to leave the court unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Orpheus explained. “She’ll be here for the treaty signing, of course, but all the negotiations are happening virtually.”


I raised my eyebrows in relief. As much as I didn’t enjoy seeing Tanith again, I thanked the gods for saving me from suffering the Queen’s mercurial moods, too. Of the two evils, I preferred to take my chances with the former Domina over the fae monarch. While Tanith tolerated me because I was occasionally useful to her, the Queen hated me. Flat-out, unapologetic hatred. The grudge had something to do with a turncoat ambassador who’d tried to kill me but ended up faery flambé courtesy of my Chthonic magic. The Queen never forgave me for killing him, despite the proof that I’d only been defending myself against a traitor to her crown.


A movement behind Tanith caught my eye as a female approached her from behind. The same female I’d seen on the sidewalk outside Central Park. “Who’s she?” I demanded, ignoring the stern look from Orpheus for my rudeness.


Tanith raised a pale hand. “This is Alexis Vega.”


Alexis looked like something out of vampire discipline porn. She wore a long-sleeved black shirt and leather pants. A holster circled her hips, displaying two massive sidearms. I couldn’t see the lower half of her, but I’d bet cash money she was wearing stiletto boots. This chick’s entire getup was about intimidation, and if I hadn’t used the same tactics myself, I might have been impressed.


She met my gaze across the table and nodded slightly.


“You two have a lot in common, Sabina.” Tanith was oblivious to the tension zinging past her as the bodyguard and I sized each other up. “Alexis was an Enforcer before she was promoted to my personal guard.”


“Oh, yeah?” I barely managed not to roll my eyes. “You look familiar,” I said. “Have we met before?” I was testing her, wondering if she’d fess up to witnessing the murder scene the night before.


Although, to be honest, I also was curious whether we’d crossed paths back in Los Angeles at some point. Most likely, she’d graduated from the same Enforcer school that turned me out in the 1970s. But even if I hadn’t met her before, I certainly knew her type.


“Miss Kane, you know very well you saw me last night outside Central Park.” She smiled. “Just as I saw you.”


The corner of my mouth lifted. “Touché.”


I kept my eyes on the vampire, looking for signs of guilt. Honestly, now that I knew she was the Despina’s guard, she’d fallen way down the suspect list. Plus, if she’d killed the human, wouldn’t she deny being at the scene? However, I’d had enough experience with the last person on the list being the bad guy that I couldn’t completely disregard her. But all the normal tells were absent—no tightening of the mouth, no fidgeting, no squinting or evasive glances. Either Alexis was telling the truth or she’d been trained very well. My guess was the former, but I planned on keeping an eye on her, just in case.


Orpheus cleared his throat, a not-so-subtle reminder that the clock was ticking down on our meeting. “We understand there was some excitement at Vein last night.”


Shit. Right. I pulled my gaze from Alexis and shifted in my seat. Since this was mage business, I deferred to Adam out of habit. Plus, he always did a better job with the niceties of talking to leaders. I usually ended up kicked out or yelled at or worse.


“Yes, sir,” Adam spoke when I didn’t. “Sabina was meeting with Slade Corbin when it happened. I was watching Pussy Willow’s performance with Giguhl. It wasn’t until The Shade’s nymph reported the murder that we became involved and went with him to survey the murder site.”


“Yes, I was briefed by Mr. Corbin on the specifics.” Orpheus grimaced. “Dreadful business.” Tanith made the appropriate noises but her expression remained coldly detached.


“Does Slade have any leads yet?” Adam asked.


Orpheus and the Despina exchanged a look I couldn’t read. “Actually, that’s why we’ve brought you in. If Slade is correct and the culprit is a vampire, the ramifications for the peace treaty are potentially disastrous.” He pressed a fist into his palm. “Swift, decisive action is crucial.”


I shifted in my seat. “You said ‘murders,’ ” I began. “I guess that means Slade filled you in on the park murder, too?”


“Alexis informed me of the crime last night and I shared the information with Orpheus,” Tanith said. “Before we could call Mr. Corbin in to question his knowledge of the matter, he’d contacted us about the second killing. He told us everything he knew about both when he came here early this morning.”


“Including the fact that you knew about the human murder and did nothing,” Orpheus said, his tone accusing. “Why didn’t you come to me about this, Sabina?”


“It’s true that I saw the scene in Central Park and assumed that the killer was a vampire.” I shifted uneasily in my chair. “However, in my defense, I didn’t come to you with that information because I believed it was a vampire problem and should be handled by Slade.”


The Despina leaned forward. “Yet, Mr. Corbin asked you to assist him in tracking down the killer and you refused. Isn’t that also correct?”


Why was I suddenly on the hot seat? “Again, I didn’t think it was my concern.”


“You were correct on that account. I’d have preferred you told me, but I understand you were following protocol,” said Orpheus, surprising me. “But the mage murder is very much your concern.”


Adam stiffened beside me. I frowned at Orpheus. “What?”


“You and Lazarus will take the lead on the investigation.”


“Sir,” Adam said, clearing his throat. “Forgive me, but shouldn’t this still be Slade’s responsibility?”


“Normally, yes,” Orpheus said. “However, Mr. Corbin’s failure to report the human murder and the fact that the second murder happened in his own club casts serious doubt on his ability to handle this sensitive matter. We have already informed him of our decision that you and Sabina will lead the investigation.”


Oh, I bet that went over well. “Sir, no offense, but I think that’s a really bad idea. Slade’s got more contacts on the streets than Adam and I,” I said. “Besides, he’s done a damned good job for you for decades.”


“Regardless, he failed to inform me when the first murder—”


I cut him off. “Dude, it was a human. They die all the time—it’s what they do.” I raised my hands in a what-can-you-do gesture. Next to me, I felt Adam shoot me a hot, annoyed glance. Whether he felt I was being disrespectful or he believed I was overdoing the Slade defense, I didn’t know. Frankly, it didn’t matter. I was so focused on not having to do this job I’d argue all night long in Slade’s favor if that would do the trick. “And Slade deserves more than to be tossed aside because he didn’t call you the minute he found out. If the second killing hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at one dead boy in the garbage.”