“God, no!” I said.

“It was an attack,” Ben added, more sedately. “By someone else.”

“Ah, I see. So much for my romantic notions, then. If you don’t mind my asking, how are you managing?”

“I have a lot of help,” he said.

“I have no doubt on that score,” she said, giving us both a sly, knowing look. She glanced to the back of the room. “Mr. Bennett, are you all right?”

Cormac was pacing along the front of the room, like a wolf looking for an exit from a cage. On each pass, he twitched the curtains back an inch and peered out.

He paused. “Fine,” he said flatly. He eyed Tom, whose gaze remained blank, disinterested.

“I remember you’re not particularly comfortable around vampires,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he muttered again. Cormac was a bounty hunter specializing in supernatural targets—including vampires. At least he had been before serving a prison sentence for manslaughter. He was still adjusting to his changed circumstances—but vampires would always make him nervous.

I wondered what Tom would do if Cormac drew one of the stakes he no doubt had stashed in a jacket pocket.

“He’s quite the friend, to follow you into this,” Alette said.

“Yes, he is.”

“Now, what did you want to discuss?”

“I’m hoping for your opinion. How much do you know about Dux Bellorum? Roman?”

Her gaze narrowed. “You’ve been turning over all kinds of stones, haven’t you? I can’t say I know very much at all. He’s a vampire, quite old by most accounts. He’s also a shadow. A myth, even. The Master of masters, all knowing, all seeing, all powerful. I’ve heard enough about him to believe that he’s real. He’s manipulative, driven, obsessed with some arcane plan of his own. But I know little else. I’ve never met him myself. Tell me, Kitty—what do you know of Dux Bellorum?”

“He’s the chief player in the Long Game,” I said, as if I knew what I was talking about, as if the very concept didn’t terrify me. “He’s collecting allies, and I—I have a grudge against him.” From my pocket I drew a pendant on a leather cord. It had once been a bronze Roman coin, but the image on it had been smashed, so that the blackened layer of verdigris was flattened and mangled beyond definition. “Have you ever seen one of these?”

I lay the coin across her hand and she studied it, rubbing a thumb across it. “I haven’t. What is it?”

“Roman gives these to his followers,” I said. “Maybe you haven’t met him, but I’m betting you know a few vampires who have one of these.”

“They have some kind of magic attached to them,” Cormac said from his place by the window. “Binding, identification.”

She frowned at the coin before giving it back to me. “Extraordinary. I had no idea. Roman—Dux Bellorum—has always kept his cards so close, revealing so little. But now he’s letting spells get away from him.”

“He’s showing his hand,” I said. “I think he’s getting ready to make a move.”

She leaned back against the chair, her gaze pursed, studious. “And the world gathers in London. The vampires are gathering in London as well, you know. This conference of yours will be a tempting target for him.”

“I’m afraid so,” I said. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to it.”

“Then it’s good you’re staying with Ned. He’ll do well by you. You can depend upon him and Emma to protect you.”

Ned was the Master vampire of London and an old friend of Alette’s. Very old, I imagined, though she wouldn’t give me details. Emma was her own protégé, a young vampire as well as a biological great—lots of greats—granddaughter. They’d offered me and mine a place to stay in London. It was Emma who convinced me to accept that offer.

“We don’t need that kind of protection,” Cormac said curtly. Tom actually took a step forward at that, and he and Cormac finally met gazes. Tom stepped back and stood at ease quickly enough that I wondered if he’d even moved. They both had too much self-control to want to be the one to start something. Alette’s lips pressed together, as if she was hiding a smile, amused at their behavior.

“Can we trust them? Really?” Ben said. He’d gone tense, and I rested a calming hand on his knee.

“You’re right not to trust vampires,” Alette said, not appearing the least bit offended. “Especially in the Old World. I had many reasons for leaving Europe—the Masters there are a big one. I find them … frustrating.”

“But Ned’s not like that?” I asked.

“Ned is, as you like to say, one of the good guys. But he’s a character—don’t let him charm you.”

Ben’s expression had turned sour—he generally had the same attitude about vampires that Cormac did. And yet, they kept listening to me when I insisted on calling them my friends.

“We’ll be careful,” I said. I always said that, and yet, I could only keep an eye out for the dangers I knew about. What would the conference throw at me that I couldn’t possibly expect?

Alette asked, “Do you know, will Dr. Flemming be at the conference? This seems exactly his milieu.”

“He wouldn’t dare show his face,” I said. “He’s notorious.” Dr. Paul Flemming had once headed up the Center for the Study of Paranatural Biology. If this conference had happened a few years ago, he would have been one of the people running it. Then his predilection for experimenting on unwilling human subjects came to light. The last time I saw him was the night he locked me in a cell during the full moon and trained a camera on me to broadcast my transformation live to the world. The video had five million views on YouTube, baby. He’d skipped town rather than face kidnapping charges. If the two of us ever ended up in a room together, I might get violent.

She said, “But it wouldn’t surprise you if he did make an appearance, would it?”

“No. I’m afraid not.”

The night and conversation wore on after midnight, until Alette agreed that we ought to sleep, in preparation for the flight tomorrow. I took her up on her offer of guest rooms, and a ride to the airport bright and early.

Before we went upstairs, she took hold of both my hands and beamed. “Kitty, you’ve come so far since I first met you. I thought then that you might do well, but you have exceeded my expectations.”