I snorted. And a Cazador has no other choice but to give in to a nightclub manager?
When that manager is not only a trusted friend, but a former Cazador himself, then yes, I do.
My gaze shot to Stanford, who was regarding me neutrally. He was a dark-haired, dark-skinned man of indefinable age, with incandescent green eyes that glowed with an unearthly fire here on the astral plane. That he was a former Cazador certainly explained the sense of danger I’d gotten the last time I’d been in his presence.
If you’re a damn Cazador, I hardly think you’d need my help to take the bitch out.
A smiled teased the corners of his lips, but barely reached his bright eyes. You’ve now seen what Hunter is capable of. Do you really think one lone Cazador is capable of beating her?
The only way he could know I’d witnessed Hunter’s full capabilities was if Markel had told him. And that meant Markel was more than just a messenger.
But you’re not one lone Cazador, are you? I waved a hand in Markel’s direction. That he’s here very much suggests he’s on your side.
Harry definitely isn’t alone in his desire to rid the council of the stain that is Hunter. Markel’s mind voice held a touch of grimness. But she is also by no means alone. Too many vampires fear her, and will never risk going up against her.
So, I commented, the majority of council members – many of whom are hundreds of years old and very dangerous in their own right – fear to cross Hunter. And yet you’re expecting me to?
Brought down to basics, that’s precisely what we’re expecting, Stanford said. She’s now killed a former lover of yours. How many more of your loved ones will have to die before you realize she will never get her hooks out of you? She owns you, Risa, for as long as you have people you care about.
She won’t kill any more of my friends. She’s not that stupid.
If you honestly believe that, Markel commented, then you are the one who is stupid.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew it was more than a possibility, but it was one I wasn’t about to admit to in front of these two men. If I acknowledged their point, it would somehow feel like I was giving ground. And are the Cazadors behind this coup attempt?
Again he hesitated. No. Not all of them.
What about the other two who follow me about? Do they side with you, or with Hunter? Or are they the reason we’re meeting here?
We meet here because it is safer for us all. Hunter cannot astral travel.
Meaning there was something the bitch couldn’t do? Amazing. That still doesn’t answer the question about my other followers.
They are not among Hunter’s supporters, he said, but neither do they side with us. They do not, in fact, know I support Harry. If they did, they would report it to Hunter, just as they would if they knew of this meeting.
Then I guess I had to be glad they didn’t know about it. It also meant I had to be damn careful about what I said out loud from now on. I returned my gaze to Stanford. None of this changes the fact that I have no intention of helping you.
And if Hunter attacks more of your friends?
I’ll deal with it when it happens. But would I? Could I? As much as I hated Hunter, as much as I’d love to see her dead for what she’d done to Jak, I very much doubted I could ever win a fight against her. And even though I knew Azriel would take the witch out if given half the chance, he could do so only if she attacked me. She wasn’t stupid enough to do that, either. Besides, he’d made no secret of his desire to kill her – not even from her. She no doubt had plans – and protections – put in place for such an eventuality.
Stanford continued to regard me steadily, and there was something in his eyes that made me think he was neither surprised by my answers nor in any way put off by them.
Which made him very much like Hunter in some respects. The question was, just how far would he go to get what he wanted?
When she kills again – and she will kill again, trust me on that – we will be here, ready to discuss our plans further. His tone was still even, still unperturbed. Trepidation skittered down my spine. Its cause wasn’t so much fear of him or his plans, but rather his certainty that Hunter hadn’t finished her bloodshed just yet. But you should know now that we do not expect you to go up against her alone and unprepared.
Well that’s mighty big of you. I frowned. What do you mean by unprepared?
He half shrugged. There are means of – nullifying, shall we say – the more terrifying aspects of what Hunter has become.
And what, exactly, has she become? You never did explain that.
She is a Maenad, he said, and a follower of the Greek wine god Dionysus, who can on one hand bring joy and divine ecstasy to those who come in contact with him, and on the other brutal, unthinking rage.
While I was absolutely positive Hunter didn’t even know the meaning of joy, the brutal, unthinking rage certainly fit.
Stanford continued. In ancient times, Maenads roamed the mountains and forests during what was known as the orgiastic rites of Dionysus, and often tore apart and devoured any animal or human who came in contact with them. Hunter still performs those rites today, although there are none alive who could confirm it.