“Tell me about whatever Nadir said first,” she told him, blocking their exit.

  “There’s my bride,” he teased, dropping to brush his lips against hers. He gave a brief overview and she blew out a breath at the news regarding Andros.

  “Andros taught me how to track. He’s scary good at it. But many of these shitlords have addresses. I’m putting together a list now. Getting eyes on scene.”

  “Rowan.”

  “Again with the saying of my name that way. What? I can’t lay the framework to execute every one of these fuckos who threatened Hunters? Because I can and I will. If the Nation refuses to handle this, you can’t cry about it when I step in.” Clive noted the zeal in her eyes. These Vampires had created a far larger problem than they’d ever imagined. Fools.

  “You’ll give Nadir her time. Andros is no empty threat, you know it.”

  “We’ll see. One way or another it’ll be dealt with. I know who all these Vampires are now and one by one, Hunters will locate their homes. We’ll find them and handle them if the Nation doesn’t.”

  * * *

  After their meal, Clive needed to get back to the office to keep an eye on everything that was going on just then. So she walked him to the car and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you. I’ll see you when you get home. Be careful.”

  He gave her an exceptionally haughty look and she fanned herself with a hand.

  “You be careful as well. I don’t think these Vampires will move. I think they’re all talk, as it happens. But pay attention anyway. I see your car here and I take it David will accompany you home so yes, I’ll see you there. Go to sleep if you need to.”

  “Foolish Vampire. You need to pleasure me. So if I’m napping, wake me up.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Hugo Procella had an actual Journie Main handbag delivered to your office as a gift for you,” Samaya told Genevieve as she came into the kitchen of her home in Las Vegas.

  Naturally, Darius was in the kitchen at the same time and his attention lasered in on her immediately.

  “Why would he do such a thing?” Such an extravagant gift was totally inappropriate, though Hugo Procella seemed not to care about what was appropriate when it came to whatever he wanted to do.

  “Those bags cost twenty grand,” Darius said and then smiled at Genevieve’s surprised expression. “We sometimes run luxury goods when the opportunity comes along, and the money is right. But they’re not a casual gift for a friend.”

  “I’d say not. That’s a hey I want to put my wiener in you so here’s an expensive incentive because I’m too lazy to work for it by getting to know you present. After that weird way he creeped on you at the meeting the other day, this is way out of bounds,” Samaya said, pausing to hug her mother.

  “He called the office for you yesterday and I took the message myself. No, I didn’t give it to you because it would have been a waste of your time. I informed him you were very busy and would respond to the rule change proposal when you could. Obviously he didn’t like that answer hence the bag showing up as if that would change your mind.”

  “Where is the bag?” Genevieve’s skin crawled at the thought of it.

  “I called his office to let him know you couldn’t accept it. A few hours later he showed up to argue with me in person. I finally had to threaten to call security to get him to stop. I made him take the bag with him and said I’d throw it in the incinerator if he left it. So I jumped in my car and headed here. Made it here in time for Mom’s meatballs and egg noodles so that’s always a plus.”

  “Stay over tonight,” Lorraine said. “The room next to mine is clean and the bed is made.” As if Lorraine would ever allow anything else but a prepared room?

  “And, Gen? He didn’t lose his temper outwardly, but his eyes told a whole different story. He hated being told no,” Samaya added.

  “I need to deal with that proposal so he can be gone from my life,” Genevieve said.

  “You don’t have to do anything,” Darius said flatly. “Or, say no and be done with it.”

  “I figured you’d ask to take over and handle it,” Genevieve told him quietly as Lorraine left to show Samaya her room for the night.

  He licked his lips and didn’t speak for a few moments. “I want to,” he admitted. “But that’s not what you need. Not at this point.”

  She cocked her head and found herself far closer to him than she’d realized. The heat of his body seemed to buffet and then wrap around her.

  As much as the way he was protective gave her a thrill, the way he so clearly understood she needed to address the demands of her position in the Senate on her own terms made her weak in the knees.

  It wasn’t a handbag so expensive it would have embarrassed Genevieve to carry it that was the way to her heart. It was this. A partner who paid attention to what she needed, and didn’t want.

  “Don’t mistake this for me saying I won’t step in,” he said, his voice a rumble against her skin. “If this goes left, if he continues to pursue you after you said no, I can’t stay out of it. I won’t. I will protect you.” He cupped her cheek. “Understand that part. But I see your strength and I respect it.”

  What could she say to that? This man who was used to always being in charge who stepped aside so she could handle things on her own was irresistible. A combination of things she’d accepted she’d never find in one person.

  “Thank you.” They weren’t supposed to thank one another. It created implied debt and powerful beings hated being in debt. But it was important to her to say it. It was okay to have debt between them.

  Lorraine and Samaya returned and Darius kissed her forehead before stepping away and getting back to chopping things on Madame’s command.

  “I want to know what these families are up to,” Genevieve said at last. “The Procellas want this change and I want to examine why. I’m going to enlist Rowan. Samaya, you can get in contact with Sergio, the grandfather—not Hugo—and let him know I’d like to speak with him further on their proposal. Let me connect with Rowan first.”

  Darius considered it and then nodded. “She’s a good choice. Sees what people try to hide from view. And she’s got an amazing ability to break her enemies. I respect that.”

  Genevieve would have to share that with her friend, who’d be thrilled to hear such a compliment.

  Rowan picked up on the second ring. “Hi there, how’s things?”

  “I need your help.” Genevieve went over the situation and her suspicions.

  “Hell yes, I’m down. I love to spy on people and I’m going to be honest and admit I want to know more about the witches living in my territory who aren’t the good kind like you.”

  Of course she did. Smiling to herself, Genevieve let Rowan know she’d get the specifics to her once she had them.

  * * *

  The following morning, Darius had shown up at Hunter Corp. with Genevieve and they all headed over to the meeting being held at the Vegas home of the Procella family Rowan had already started building a file on.

  It had become obvious to her that there were paras in her city she didn’t understand well enough. Good or bad, she needed to know the basics to better do her job, so she’d jumped at the chance to not only help a friend, but be nosy while getting paid for it.

  When the gates had opened and they’d come up the drive, the mansion beyond had Rowan guffawing. If there was a single flourish in the world that hadn’t been somehow affixed to the giant carcass of ostentatious excess she wasn’t sure she could find it.

  Ornate scrollwork crawled over columns and around doors and windows. Several luxury cars were parked to the side of the main front steps leading to the massive front doors, also covered in carvings and doodads.

  “It’s like a five-year-old’s dress-up box exploded,” she murmured to Genevieve. “I thought Vampires had excess down, but this? This is quite a challenge to their dominance, I’ll give you that.”

  Genevieve grunted softly.

  Genevieve’s call the night before asking for assistance had presented an opportunity not just to be nosy, but also because it was a good opportunity for Rowan to be able to help Genevieve instead of the other way around.

  The double doors slid open to reveal two uniformed staff and a tall woman in a perfectly tailored suit standing perfectly in between them.

  The perfection was a mask, like so many things, Rowan thought. Perfect Suit’s gaze went to Rowan twice. So quickly if she’d been most anyone else, they’d have missed it.

  But Rowan wasn’t most anyone else and something about this scene bugged her. As if it was all just one or two degrees off in either direction.

  “Ms. Aubert, please come in.” Perfect Suit indicated the foyer just beyond with a sweep of her hand. “I’m Mr. Procella Senior’s aide, Lotte.”

  Genevieve nodded and stepped into the house. Rowan really didn’t like it that she hadn’t gone first. Silly, because Genevieve was absolutely capable of handling herself.

  And then the uniforms began to close the doors with Rowan standing on the porch.

  Genevieve said something. Not words. A sound with feeling. A sound with full-on pissed-off offense and a blast of magic blew the doors all the way open, slamming back to the walls hard enough to knock things down deeper in the house.

  At Rowan’s back, she heard the car door open, and boots hit the gravel. Darius had gotten out and a throb of deep, endless magic rose. Waiting to be aimed.

  Though normally, Rowan would have stepped out of the line of fire and let the Dust Devil at it, Genevieve was in the house and until she was safely at Rowan’s side, Rowan didn’t want to start a battle.

  So she reached for sarcasm because that was her type of magic. Stepping closer to the door, she made eye contact with Genevieve to be sure they were on the same page and then she shifted her attention to Perfect Suit. “I have a lot to learn about the differences in rules of courtesy and civility between my world and yours, Lotte. In mine, we only slam doors in people’s faces if we mean to offend them.” Rowan sent Lotte a sunny smile with lots of teeth. That translated fairly well, and the other woman narrowed her left eye and like an idiot she’d handed Rowan one of her tells. “Which makes me wonder why you’d want to offend someone like me and whatever you think you’d get out of it.”

  “And your guest as well, of course. I’d assumed she would wait for you outside as is common. She can sit in the kitchen,” Lotte said to Genevieve, pretending as if Rowan wasn’t right there.

  Common? Well look at Perfect Suit turning her bitchy up to eleven like Rowan didn’t exist at a perpetual fifty.

  Genevieve went very still and then turned, sauntering out to where Rowan had just been about to saunter in.

  “Is it common for you to be rude to invited visitors to this home? You’re proud enough to proclaim such an embarrassing thing? Inform Mr. Procella Senior that should he still wish to discuss this matter, he can contact my office to make another appointment. Please also inform him that you are to have nothing to do with any communication between his family and me or my offices. I find you intolerable.”

  With that, Genevieve managed a turn that was a flounce with just the right amount of aggressive dismissal. Damn, Rowan’s friend was really good at this stuff.

  She tucked her arm around Rowan’s left, providing a united front as they descended the steps leading to the car.

  Rowan wanted to ask if they should make another try to get inside or what Genevieve wanted, but she didn’t want to be overheard and risk weakening Genevieve’s actions so she followed along, waiting for any indication to do otherwise.

  They were almost to the car when a man appearing to be in his mid-thirties or so stepped from the house, hailing them both.

  “I’m with you. Lead and we’ll figure it out,” Rowan murmured.

  “It’s Hugo,” Genevieve said before they turned as a unit and Rowan went into a stance that kept her at readiness should she need to defend herself or Genevieve.

  “Genevieve, it’s lovely to see you. Ms. Summerwaite, I’m Hugo Procella. You’re here to meet with my grandfather. Please, let me apologize for what just happened.”

  He was handsome as such things went. Probably five ten or so. Dark brown hair in a tousle that took a trim every two weeks. Suntanned, like he’d just returned from somewhere tropical rather than just being outside in this part of the world. Clad in a very well-made pair of trousers, designer loafers, and a button-down of the quality and styling Clive normally wore, he didn’t scream money, but there was a whispered chorus. She bet he had a huge section in his closet for thousand-dollar sunglasses and a boat he only took out once a year. Not a perfect suit like Lotte, but certainly a uniform just the same.

  Currently his rather unremarkable brown eyes were trying very hard to appear remorseful for what was surely not novel behavior. A house like the one beyond had at least a dozen staff. They were employed by rich and powerful people. The visitors here would also be rich and powerful people. Rowan imagined their reception was far more welcoming. No, for Senior’s aide to have treated Rowan the way she had, the ease of her condescension told Rowan the house beyond was full of demeaning talk about humans and other beings who weren’t Genetic witches.

  The Procella family, at least the one who controlled the door, had a very high opinion of itself and a very low one of everyone else. Rowan could work with that. People didn’t look at what they thought was beneath them. She could do plenty of damage from below.

  Genevieve looked at him, sliding her hand up to cup her neck a moment, and the magic in the air changed. Hugo noticed too, his eyes widening slightly, but said nothing. Not removing his gaze from Genevieve’s face in a way that sent a slow wash of unease through Rowan.

  Footsteps at her back as Darius moved from the driver’s side around to the passenger rear door. Waiting.

  And still, Hugo’s attention remained on Genevieve.

  How the fuck it was this witch in front of them had no outward inkling he’d even taken notice of Darius when the power in the air was undeniable, Rowan wasn’t sure. She didn’t trust it. It made Hugo impossibly stupid or impossibly arrogant. Both were dangerous to Hugo’s health when he was already on a shit list for the creepy way he’d latched onto Genevieve.

  “Will you please come inside? Let us treat you with the hospitality and respect you are due.” He looked to Rowan. “Both of you. I know who you are, Ms. Summerwaite. We are honored to have you here.” He bowed but not nearly enough for the level of insult.

  Didn’t really feel that way. But Rowan kept that to herself. For the moment. One never knew when a little verbal taking to task would be necessary, so it paid to be ready.

  “If you were honored, and you know who Ms. Summerwaite is, why has your staff acted in such a manner?” Genevieve asked, a razor draped in cashmere. “The entire Conclave looks bad when our members show this side of themselves to honored guests.”

  The tightening around Hugo’s eyes told Rowan he was about to lie, and he was mad about it. “I believe it was a misunderstanding. Not all the information was conveyed to Lotte.”

  “Calling it a misunderstanding is an attempt to evade responsibility. That indicates personal weakness. Is this how your household responds to all visitors?” Genevieve sniffed, disappointed, and Hugo’s polite mask slipped for just a moment, leaving his frustrated anger on display.

  A breath later that smile was back in place, along with big look-at-me-I’m-innocent eyes. Hugo said, “My grandfather is very traditional and slow to adopt newer ways. He means no malice.”

  * * *

  Again this fool thought Genevieve wouldn’t notice that he evaded answering and taking responsibility? His grandfather was a small-minded bigot and trying to pass it off as being traditional. A common enough tactic.

  Lying to a Senator, also common.

  “I’m seven hundred and fifty-four years old. Yet, I understand basic courtesy. I understood it long before your grandfather was born. It’s merely another excuse.”

  “We have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Hugo said. “I’m sure Ms. Summerwaite wouldn’t want to be the cause of trouble between us.” The way he said us indicated he meant far more than witches in general.

  Rowan said nothing. Gave no indication of how she felt about that, but Genevieve wagered in her head Rowan was punching him square in his throat.

  This had gone on long enough. Genevieve drew up to her full height, and in her towering heels she loomed over Hugo Procella, looking down her nose at him. For a moment her mouth twisted as she caught a glimpse of the darker heart of this witch. “I grow tired of you speaking apologies out of one side of your face and then doing nothing but putting the blame onto others. These two things are mutually exclusive. Your family is asking for permission to do something that takes a great deal of discipline and control. So far, I’ve seen neither from a single one of you.” Genevieve flicked her wrist, but her bracelets did not sing for him. “I would speak with Rowan privately. You may wait wherever it is common,” Genevieve said.

  He bowed slightly but the little tremor that ran through his muscles reminded Genevieve of an eager pet, one desperate to jump all over someone. “Of course. I will await your response.” He retreated to the house. A blast of cold slid down her spine.

  Darius stood, holding the door open for Genevieve and Rowan to slide into the back seat.

  He circled slowly and got back in behind the wheel. Stoic and very still. But the annoyance seemed to flow from him anyway and she understood he allowed that. Like he’d made noise when he’d gotten out of the car. She’d been out with him enough to know he made no sound unless he wanted to.

  He reached forward and toggled a switch of some sort and the windows opaqued so they couldn’t be spied upon from the house. There were other ways to listen in, so Genevieve clapped her hands together three times and sang under her breath. Her magic leapt into place, dancing with the magic of the Trick, and clicked around the car creating a barrier no one could hear through.