“The elves have taken too much power for themselves, that is true. The dynamic must be shifted so we can restore balance,” Darius said, his tone low so his voice wouldn’t carry. I tried not to flinch and stare at him. I had no idea he’d been thinking along those lines. “We do need a better setup within the Realm. But helping Lucifer tear it all down isn’t the right way. It won’t put us in power, it’ll put him in power and us at his mercy. Your ambition has blinded you. You are walking a dangerous path, and it will lead to your destruction.”
Vlad stepped forward, and now I could barely hear his words. His gaze picked up intensity. “You do not want to stand against me, old friend. There are forces in play that you can’t even imagine.”
“I don’t want to stand against you, correct,” Darius responded, “but you are wrong. Reagan is worth my eternal demise. If that means I must pit myself against my maker, so be it. If it means I must once again join forces with the shifters, fine. I will not lose her—not to Lucifer, not to the elves, and certainly not to death or captivity.”
Vlad stared for a very long moment, and although his exterior remained smooth and glossy, his eyes revealed a sort of viciousness that raised my small hairs. Darius held the stare without comment. Moments ticked by.
“I will try to spare you,” Vlad finally said. “She will be lost, however. It cannot be helped.”
He spun and took off, so fast that it was hard to identify the details. The door slammed behind him.
Darius turned to me, anger burning just below the surface. I had every suspicion it was because I had left the ward without telling him.
“I would ask that you do not engage any vampires.” His tone was even and calm, but he didn’t fool me. “I need you to let me handle them.”
“So…if they threaten me…” I lifted my eyebrows.
“Play defense, do not kill, and extract yourself from the situation. That is within your power.”
I squinted at him. That was no fun. I could finally reveal my power, and now I wasn’t supposed to use it?
If you wish to fight me on this, you will do it away from the shifters, Darius thought. The vampires and shifters will not want to work together again. The conflict between us is old and bitter, even if it was begun by the elves. You and I will need to play mediators, and for that, I need you to withstand your desire for violence.
He made good points, and it didn’t improve my mood.
“Fine,” I ground out.
A few of Roger’s wayward thoughts surfaced in my mind. Cahal had taught him how to shield his thoughts when we were out on the island, and I was also suppressing them, but the enormity of the situation was bearing down on him. I felt his urgent need to get his people moving.
“So…” I pulled my hand from Darius’s. “What’s next?”
“Karen is waiting for us at the Bankses’ house,” Roger said, stepping further away. “Romulus and Charity are en route. Their plane landed, and they’ve all been picked up. They should get there soon after we do.”
“You’re really teaming up with vampires?” someone at the back of the bar asked.
Roger turned and speared the skinny guy with terrible taste in fashion with a commanding stare. Shut up.
That thought came through loud and clear, to both me and the kid. Everyone around Skinny Guy edged away from him, actively trying not to catch any of his stupid, leaving him standing there in the middle of an empty bubble of space.
“The Red Prophet was originally supposed to meet us there,” Roger said, jerking his head. Darius put out his hand, and I took it, taking his hint that we should be walking and talking. The three of us headed out the door. “She’s gone missing again.”
“Oh, she has?” I asked, seeing Darius’s black town car waiting by the curb. Jimmy sat off to the side, leaning against the building wall, a couple of people attending him. Vlad hadn’t killed him, thank God. “She slept at my place last night, and she was there when I left. She’s probably just out terrorizing the neighborhood.”
“Romulus suspects she is on hallucinogens.” Roger stopped at the curb as Darius opened my door for me.
A middle-aged woman passing by caught sight of Roger, swayed into her friend, cackled, and said, “Well, hell-ooo, Mr. Muscle Man.” Her friend shushed her. “He’s hot, though, right? I’d jump on.” They both cackled this time, ambling away. The hurricanes had clearly gotten on top of them.
Roger continued as if he hadn’t heard her. He probably got that a lot. “She apparently likes acid a great deal. It seems to help with her Sight, more so than the hallucinogens in the Flush. They think it’s the chemical nature of it. They don’t have anything like it in the Flush. Don’t worry, though. It doesn’t affect her like it does humans.”