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“Have either of you seen Rune or Fintan?”
As the generals in charge of my command, they’ll have more details about what actually transpired with the Algiers pack and what the witches have to do with it.
The young vampires turn to each other and shrug.
I roll my eyes. What skill set could these two idiots possibly offer Rune for him to welcome them into our horde?
Am I becoming cantankerous in my old age?
Rune would say yes. Finn would back him up.
But in this case, I would still be right. Idiots.
I leave them to their blathering, take a breath—an unshakeable habit leftover from my long-forgotten days as a human—and finish my drink. After setting my empty goblet back on the bar for Misha, I head for the stairwell that leads to the underground.
The tunnels below the club stretch out across my territory.
Despite it being dark out, I prefer to take the tunnels instead of the streets. Tourists are so obnoxious. Plus, it’s the fastest way to and from the hotel, whether it’s night or day.
Jogging down the stone stairs, I set my course to return to the Elysian. The hotel I secured for the horde was abandoned after the hurricane twenty years ago, and I picked it up for a song. Now, after extensive reconstruction, it serves as our home base well.
It provides us access to the principal streets of the Quarter, the tunnels, the markets, and Jackson Square if we need to enlist the services of a witch for something.
It’s perfect for our needs.
The tunnels would seem dark and possibly a little creepy by human standards, but I like the earthy smell and the pockets of shadow between the lit torches. It’s quiet down here. Much quieter than the jazz-filled streets above.
“Evening, sir,” Terrance says, dropping his gaze and stepping aside to let me pass.
“King Sebastian,” the female with him—Lexi, I believe—says, giving me a polite curtsy.
“Good evening.” I pass the members of our family and close the distance to my private access to the hotel. At the steel door, I stop and key in my code before leaning down to allow the scan of my retina.
With the click of the lock, I let myself in and take the stairs two at a time. The more time that passes, the more I want to know what happened tonight and why I wasn’t informed.
I find Fintan pouring himself a drink in the lounge outside of Rune’s quarters. The liquid splashing in his tumble isn’t blood, but a mixture of plasma and alcohol—a special brew the witches concocted so vampires can get drunk.
It’s been an enormous hit at the club, but we regulate it strictly. Drunken vampires can be bad for the Quarter.
Watching Finn swig back and refill makes me anxious.
It must have been bad.
“They were after a girl,” Finn says before I’m even halfway into the room. His gaze is locked on the liquid swirling in his glass. “A witch.”
“A witch? There are plenty of witches on their side of the Mississippi—Moon Witches, even.”
“No. None like this.” Finn lifts his head and takes a long sip of his drink to stall.
I give him the time to collect his thoughts. I could be perched in the chair next to him in a blur but limit myself to the movement of mortal men.
“I think she’s a Sun Witch.”
My gaze narrows. “You didn’t recognize her?”
Fintan shakes his head.
“What about Rune? Did he recognize her?”
