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That irresistible nectar was ripped from my grasp before I truly enjoyed what was mine—the witch the universe gave to me—Celine Dumont.
Even thinking the name fills me with anger—the only emotion I can feel these days.
I sigh and wave Misha over to top up my drink and motion for him to keep them coming.
It’s shaping up to be a long night.
Life could be worse. I remind myself. We used to be confined to the sewers, traversing the filthy tunnels that run below the city.
Ha, there. Fintan would be proud of me for looking on the bright side of things.
In the periphery of my vision, two fledgling vampires take up the empty stools at the bar. I do my best to tune them out and go back to watching Arlo and his witch, but it’s difficult.
The young vampires are talking so loudly, with my heightened senses, they’re practically screaming. “… heard one of ‘em got his noggin sliced clean off his body. That would kill the guy, right?”
“Getting beheaded is the end of any of us, dipshit.”
“Are you sure? We’re immortals now. I get the sun thing but—”
“—What are you going to do without a head?”
I roll my eyes and go over and make like their king. Mostly, I just want to shut them up. “Hello, boys. You seem quite animated tonight. Care to share?”
The seemingly smarter one of the two—and that’s taking a great deal of poetic license—looks up at me and grins. “Josh was volunteering to test whether a vampire can survive having their head chopped off.”
Josh’s eyes blow wide. “Yeah, I–hey!”
I really need to tell Rune to raise his minimum age. These fledglings are getting on my nerves.
“I am not. You’re an ass, Vance.”
“You both need to shut up,” I say with as little annoyance as I can manage.
“Sorry, boss,” Vance says.
“Now, tell me what has jazzed the two of you up so early in this morning that you’re interrupting my breakfast.”
Josh opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with a stern glare. “Not you.”
He’s irritating me, and if I have to hear his grating voice ramble on more, there will be two vampires losing their heads this day.
The two fledglings must sense that, because Josh dutifully zips his lips and lets his friend stutter out an explanation.
“There’s been a wolf conflict. The Algiers pack crossed the boundary line of the Quarter and Tremé.”
Why is the first I’m hearing of this from the rumor mill? I should’ve been notified the moment Egan’s mutts stepped foot into my territory.
“And what of the beheading?”
“Horace,” he answers hastily. “During the conflict.”
At least it was only Horace—not a tremendous loss.
Still, Egan’s pack knows better than to break our contract. At least, they used to. I straighten. “So, the wolves entered my territory to hunt and killed one of my vampires?”
“No–not the wolves. A witch. The wolves were after a witch and during the fight she brought down part of a balcony and Horace got in the way.”
Well, that is certainly interesting–if it’s the truth.
