Black Arts (Jane Yellowrock #7)

Black Arts (Jane Yellowrock #7) Page 32

“Few mongrels know their sires.”

I grinned, but before I could say anything snarky back, Leo said, “Research his ships. As I remember it, Shoffru and his partner captained two of Lafitte’s fleet, the Ring Leader and the Lady’s Virtue.”

Oddly enough, something about the names of the ships were familiar, but I couldn’t place them.

Leo nodded slowly, thinking, his face creased in concern, an expression he seldom showed to the world. “It is difficult to know how to treat with Adrianna. When I first knew her, she was a vivacious beauty.”

“When I first knew her, she had been working black magic with the Damours,” I said.

Leo didn’t flinch, nothing so human, but something crossed his face. Maybe longing, maybe remorse. He said, “I was powerless to stop them, the Damours. My uncle had signed a . . . a treaty of sorts with them, to leave them alone as long as they left him and his alone. After he found true-death, I was still bound by that contract. Until you came and freed us of it.”

I sat back. Thinking. Blinking in the light that suddenly felt too bright. “So you didn’t go after the Damours because you couldn’t—” I stopped. Leo had used me to break the treaty with the Damours and kill them for their crimes. I hadn’t been his Enforcer back then, which had given me opportunity he hadn’t had. “You sneaky bastard,” I muttered.

Leo inclined his head, a small smile easing the pain on his face. He looked, in that moment, nearly human. “I have been called that. And worse. Though I assure you, I was legitimately conceived and born.”

I waved away the comment. “Okay,” I said, knowing I’d need time to digest all the knowledge he had just given me—freely—which meant there was a hidden cost somewhere, because vamps did nothing without a price tag attached. There was a lot of info I didn’t have yet, but I decided to address this again later when I had my questions in line, and changed the subject from the past to the present. “And the girls missing? And Adrianna?”

Leo shook his head slowly, but I could tell he wasn’t happy with the conclusions he was drawing. “Adrianna is declared outlaw. None may assist her, none may shelter her. Her blood-master has agreed that she is to stand trial when she is located, and will be given to the sun should she be found guilty.”

I let that settle into me, not feeling anything. I probably should have felt something. Sorrow for her loss of undead life. Satisfaction that an enemy would be gone. Something. But I didn’t feel anything, and that bothered me. I’d have to think about that later, along with all the other things I was stuffing into the dark inside me. I went back to the problem at hand. “So, if Jackie Boy’s a Mexican MOC, why is he here, in your territory?”

Leo leaned back in his chair, his elbows on the padded leather arms, his fingers again steepled in front of his mouth. I could smell the leather as he moved, rich and earthy with tannins; I bet he paid a thousand bucks for the chair. “Shoffru is to be presented at the gather. Tomorrow night.” I sat forward. It was nice to get some specifics. “Among others, he has applied for sanctuary in New Orleans. He claims that the drug cartels have placed his clans in danger and he wishes to relocate. What would you think if a Mithran requested such a thing?”

“I’d wonder if he was relocating here so he could have a base of operations to expand a drug cartel of his own,” Eli said. “And maybe wanting access to a nearby U.S. military base. If he has delusions of grandeur.”

Leo gave an approving flutter of his fingers. “That possibility has been under consideration. Upon the basis of that argument I have requested an investigation by the human authorities—undercover, of course—into his finances, plans, and his current situation in Mexico.” Leo looked at me. “I believe that he intends to make my lands a permanent base of operations.”

Oh, crap. “You think he might challenge you,” I said.

“Of a certainty. Eventually. First, he will apply for sanctuary and offer me fealty. Should the Drug Enforcement Agency and the Federal Bureau of Investigation and other law enforcement agencies not discover reasons to the contrary, I will accept. Once he is ensconced here, he will apply for blood-master of the Shoffru clan. I can hold that off for a time, but eventually I must accept. At some point thereafter he will challenge me.” Leo shrugged. “Or I can kill him now and avoid all the wretchedness.”

“Ah,” I said. I sat back too, keeping my frustration off my face by an act of will, but knowing Leo would smell it on my skin next time he took a breath.

Eli looked back and forth between us. “What?” he demanded.

Better to meet it head-on, rather than let Leo think I didn’t know. “Shoffru,” I said to Leo, “is the reason I got to beat the crap out of you tonight. Which, by the way, was immensely satisfying.”

“As well as somewhat unexpected, mon petit chaton.”

I wanted to ask what the pet names meant, but that was a game I couldn’t win. If I asked once, he might just talk French more often to get a rise out of me. I grunted instead. “Shoffru was in the audience, wasn’t he?” I accused. Leo smiled, and I said, “I figured. You coulda beaten me to a bloody pulp if you’d drawn on all the clan members, but you didn’t want him to see you doing that.”

Adelaide nearly dropped her tablet, staring at Leo. And Leo looked totally nonplussed. “What? What’d I say?”

“You can draw on the clan members who swear to you?” Adelaide asked. Leo looked away, thinking. “All of them?” she persisted.

“What?” I asked. “Can’t all MOCs?”

“Some can draw on their own clan members,” Del said. “Some can draw on the clan blood-masters sworn to them. Not too many can draw power from all the members of all the clans in a territory.” Adelaide stared a hole through Leo. “Good Lord. That’s why George became an Onorio instead of dying or turning—because he’d been sipping your blood for a century. No wonder the European Council is so interested in you. Is there a distance limit on how far you can draw? How many you can draw from at once?”

Leo pursed his lips and shot me a narrow-eyed glance. Obviously I’d spilled some beans, and he looked irritated. Flying by the seat of my pants had, just like always, put my feet into it when I landed. And this time it was vamp politics and Leo’s secret that I didn’t know was a secret. I remembered the night he’d drawn on all the gathered. Power had prickled in the air like lightning, harsh and painful, rippling across my flesh like sharp teeth. And he’d not drawn all he could. And maybe not everyone there had understood what was happening. Maybe Leo’s power was—had been—partially unknown. “Oops?” I said, by way of apology. Eli breathed out hard, a huff that sounded amused, but said nothing. “So, that night you saved my life, and punished Adrianna for attacking me, you drew only what you needed to control them,” I said. “You could have drained them into true-death.”

The MOC held up his hand like a traffic cop, stopping me. To Adelaide he said, “Decide. Now.”

“I accept.”

I had no idea what had just happened, but Leo inclined his head and pressed a button on his desk. A tinny voice said over an intercom, “Yes, Mr. Pellissier?”

“Four glasses, and a bottle of the Chapoutier Cote Rotie La Mordoree 1990, please. And see that Quesnel allows it to breathe.” From the way Adelaide’s face went soft, I gathered it was an expensive wine, but I still didn’t understand what was happening. Leo smiled at her expression. “Are you familiar with wines, my primo?”

I nearly choked. Primo?

Adelaide said, “The 1990 has a saturated dark ruby-purple color, an amazing nose with copious quantities of sweet black fruits, warm new oak, flowers, and smoky bacon fat. To the mouth it has a superb concentration of flavors, a sweet, expansive texture, like butter on the tongue, and a . . . mind-boggling”—she paused, and licked her lips as if tasting it already—“long”—she smiled, her lips lifting slowly—“finish. I tasted it when it was young. I am honored that you open a bottle now.”

“What about Bruiser?” I asked, feeling the floor shift beneath me. I had known things were changing, but, this was . . . official. Too much, too soon.

“George is no longer suitable as the primo of the master of a city,” Leo said languidly, watching Adelaide. “He has made other choices and, as Onorio, has other duties.”

Adelaide was watching Leo back, her attention totally ensnared. And willing. And then I heard her description of the wine, as if it echoed from the tapestried walls. Crap. She was talking about a whole lot more than wine. So she would refuse his sexual attention while she was just sworn to him, one of the hoi polloi, but if she got the perks, she would add sex into the deal? Or maybe as long as it was her choice and not part of a contract, she was willing? Human women had always been confusing to me, even back in the children’s home. Del just took that confusion to new heights.

“You have other questions, my Enforcer?” Leo asked, not looking at me.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice too loud. “You knew about the witches disappearing in New Orleans, didn’t you?” I had Leo’s attention again and it wasn’t the hot and sultry look Del had been receiving. For me, his eyes were bleeding black, and his sclera were taking on a faint tinge of pink. Not that I cared. Fury for Bruiser and anger at all the freaking vamp games burned hot through my veins. I stood and leaned in to his stare. “And I bet you knew about the witches in Natchez and the way the vamps were rising as revenants—a different kind of revenant.”

I could see the truth on Leo’s face. He had known everything. He had known it all. And he had never done a single blessed thing to stop it or warn me or fix it or . . . I stepped from my chair. “And instead of warning me, you let me go to Natchez, unprepared, to deal with it.” A possible conclusion settled around my brain like a tourniquet. A headache started over my eyes and Beast hissed deep inside. Now I had the whole picture. “You were trying to find a way to keep from taking the problem to the European Council. You and your uncle before you were trying to keep the Council out of this situation and out of your territory for two hundred years. And to accomplish that, you signed and kept a contract with the Damours, let witches die by the dozens for centuries, and let Naturaleza in Atlanta and later in Natchez put witches into a circle and drain them slowly dry. You let them run a slave breeding ground in Chattanooga. You knew all about it. Everything.