Death's Rival

Leo inclined his head to indicate he had heard and spoke his title. “Leonard Eugène Zacharie Pellissier, master of the territory of Southeastern United States, south of the Mason-Dixon Line, east of the Texas border at the Sabine River to the Atlantic, and south to the Gulf, with the exception of Florida and Atlanta.” He paused a bare moment, and added, “the largest single hunting territory in these United States.” De Allyon didn’t react and Leo went on. “My heir you have met and shackled. My acting secondo scion is Koun.” He gestured to the Celt.

“Acting secondo?” de Allyon asked. The room went quiet. Interrupting a vamp while he’s speaking is a gross offense. Leo didn’t react except to let a small smile touch his face.

“Grégoire is occupied elsewhere.” Meaning that unlike their guest, he’d not put all his eggs in one basket. De Allyon blinked slowly, realizing that if he had miscalculated, if Leo attacked and won, he could lose his entire crew tonight.

Leo’s smile widened and he went on. “And my dual Enforcers, George Dumas and Jane Yellowrock. Yellowrock who has been accused of murder, yet who first was attacked, unprovoked, in her hotel room.”

Point to Leo. And a line that worked toward my plan. Thank you, Leo.

Before de Allyon could respond to the claim, Sabina said, “I am Sabina Delgado y Aguilar, outclan, and emissary of the Outclan Council.” De Allyon’s reaction was even less intense than Leo’s, but his scent changed. In fact, the scents of all his people changed, growing tart as they calculated the meaning of a hurried response from the Europeans. No one had known the council was getting involved in this little war. Point to Sabina, and maybe to Leo. We would see.

“Lucas Vazquez de Allyon,” Sabina said, “you have broken truce. Twelve of your scions may stay. Choose which Mithrans you keep at your side, and which will go. If you refuse, then I will choose.”

De Allyon’s Enforcer, a big man with oiled black skin, a bald head, and weapons up the wazoo, stepped slightly to the side, as if he was getting ready to rumble if his master needed muscle. Bruiser shadowed his moves. I didn’t bother. I knew how powerful Sabina was, and if she said she was in charge, then she was totally in charge, and she had the metaphysical weapons to back up her claim.

“And how would you enforce such a demand?” de Allyon asked. It sounded like real curiosity, not a taunt, but his facial expression didn’t shift from arrogant, and I got the feeling that de Allyon thought he could take the priestess. Dumb-ass.

“I am the bearer of the BloodCross.” Sabina pulled her hands from the sleeves of her habitlike robe, revealing that she wore thick gloves. In one gloved hand was a black cloth, which she allowed to drop to the floor. “Behold the sliver of the all-powerful BloodCross.” The sliver of wood she had hidden beneath the cloth began to glow. De Allyon threw up a warding hand and took two steps back before he caught himself. His people cringed even farther, leaving a space around the old vamp. “I have wielded this weapon for millennia,” Sabina said, “and should you refuse my will, while I act as the emissary of the Outclan Council of Mithrans, I will thrust it into your flesh until you burn brightly.” The room suddenly smelled of fear pheromones, the odd, musky, old herb scent of most vamps growing stronger, bitter.

The old conquistador kept his head averted from the sliver of wood and lifted one finger at his secondo. The man quickly pointed at the vamps he was kicking out of the proceedings. I might be wrong, but I thought they looked relieved to be sent away. They didn’t scurry like rats from a sinking ship, but they didn’t dawdle either. By the change in scent, I could tell that most of the sick vamps had left the building. I was guessing that the secondo wanted to keep the healthy ones around for a fight that now had even odds.

When the numbers of vamps were equal, Sabina snapped her fingers and de Allyon’s secondo bent to the floor, rising with the black cloth. I was pretty sure he hadn’t planned to bend and pick it up. The look of shock on his face was pure comic relief, and when he backed away, he ended up in the back of the crowd, his eyes on Sabina. Sabina tucked the glowing length of wood back into its covering and slid her arms into her sleeves.

“There is no reason for the Outclan Council to interfere in this parlay,” de Allyon said. Which took a lot of nerve, I thought.

“You drew the eyes of the legal apparatus of this nation with the debacle in Natchez. You will be judged and governed no matter the outcome of this parley. Take your seats.” Sabina walked between the enemies and across the room. Sat in her chair. Point to the priestess.

I held my breath, waiting, watching the thoughts flit across de Allyon’s face. Moments passed, and I let my hand drop to my hip and the weapon there. But the old conquistador knew when to fight and when to talk. He moved after Sabina and took the seat to her right. Leo took the seat to her left. Their vamps filled in the places in the expanding rows behind them.

“We are now gathered,” Sabina said. Cold energy sparked through the air as her power shot out, and I heard gasps from de Allyon’s people. Yeah. Go, Sabina. “De Allyon has issued accusation of murder against the Enforcer of Pellissier. Therefore de Allyon has first salvo.”

And that was my cue, which had come way too early. Bruiser’s men had better be rescuing Katie. “Point of order,” I said from the back of the room.

Leo turned shocked eyes to me. Surprise must be a difficult thing for an old vamp to experience. After a few centuries of life, there is nothing new. Right? Wrong.

“While acting as Pellissier’s Enforcer, I was attacked, without cause, without proper challenge. I was forced to act in my own self-defense. That unwise action on de Allyon’s part precipitated a blood-feud and this accusation of murder. Therefore, as per the history of the Sedorov versus Nikitn blood-feud of the fourteenth century, and the Sergius versus Giovanni murder trial of the tenth century, I challenge the new Enforcer of the Master of the City of Atlanta to personal mortal combat, as a way to determine my innocence or guilt.”

The place went dead silent, not a vamp breathing, everyone thinking, putting together what I had just done. Sabina blinked once, an unusual motion on the face of the ancient priestess. Then she turned her head to me and smiled. It was not a happy moment for me. I was hoping she had figured out what I was trying to do and approved, but she was just as likely to be happy that I was about to be killed.

“Does anyone wish to speak to this point of order?” Sabina asked.

Bruiser, his voice careful and measured, said, “I wish to speak to the point of order. The challenge of mortal combat as a means to determine innocence or guilt is an outdated legal concept.”

Sabina said, “Outdated, but well within her rights.” The place went silent again, and I could feel the weight of Bruiser’s eyes on me. He was ticked, and I had no idea if he would understand what I was doing or why.

Whether I lived or died, Leo would win, because my challenge, if accepted, would force de Allyon back under the directives of the Vampira Carta. Of course, if de Allyon didn’t accept, we were back where we started, with me going to trial, but I was betting on hubris and ego to make him accept, and also betting that he didn’t know what was in the VC codicil about personal mortal combat.

The Enforcer, Jude Talley, raised his eyes to me and grinned, exposing huge, white fangs.

Crap. De Allyon’s new Enforcer was a vamp, an old, powerful vamp. I had fought a master vamp once, and I would have lost had Leo not been snared in the insanity of grief, and run off. This guy was at least as old as Leo, and better trained. A warrior.

Beast pressed down on my mind. Beast is not afraid, she thought at me. We will hunt him and eat his heart. His mass will make him slower than other vampires. I/we are fast, have silver-edged claws and Beast strength.

Which made me feel better, but still . . . A vamp with three-inch fangs was no easy prey. Jude was more than six feet six, and his muscles had muscles. The ones on his chest started dancing beneath his thin-knit shirt. If he had been wearing pasties, they would be twirling. Beast hacked with amusement at the image, and suddenly I grinned. Eat his heart, eh? I thought.

My good humor seemed to surprise the big guy. He blinked and vamped out fast, his pupils going wide, sclera suffusing with blood. Jude didn’t have much control for an old vamp. If he didn’t overpower me and kill me in the first rush, I could use that against him. Maybe. If I was very, very lucky.

“This woman murdered our previous Enforcer,” de Allyon said. His expression didn’t change. It hadn’t changed the entire time he’d been in the room. But his scent changed, and I could tell he was not