Tatiana flattened herself against the building, pulling the firecrackers and lighter from her waist bag as she ticked off the last remaining seconds. On three, she flicked the lighter under the fuse. On two, it burst into flame. On one, she tossed it into the yard and ducked behind a windowless part of the guesthouse.

The fireworks went off like gunshots, cracking through the night’s silence and reverberating over the water. Another few seconds into the noise and new sounds emerged from the house. The sounds of movement and scuffling, then the noise they’d anticipated. The wysper’s scream.

Despite the earplugs, it raked through her like sharpened tines until even her fangs ached. The sound was her cue to run, which was exactly what Laurent would be doing. If he wasn’t dead.

She leaped the security wall into the neighboring estate, making her exit from there and speeding back toward the car. Laurent joined her there a few minutes later, a full body bag slung over his bleeding shoulder, the scent of ash thick around him.

“Darling,” she purred. “Did you get hurt?”

“Damn hot blade, sliced right through my shoulder. Going to be a nasty scar.” He patted the limp, female figure shrouded in plastic. “Other than that, the evening went rather well. I managed to get a few licks in myself before bagging our prize.”

Sheer delight sucked a gasp from her. Bloody hell. The prat had done it. She clapped her hands as she imagined Daciana might. “Let me see her!”

Laurent frowned. “Don’t be foolish, Daciana. You know what comarré look like. Get in the car. I want to go home.”

Lola’s skin no longer itched with the desire to flee. No, that feeling had been replaced by vision-blurring anger. She worked to unclench her jaw. “You think this vampire killed my daughter because she thought Julia was you?”

“No, she knows what I look like.” Chrysabelle leaned back in her seat, her mouth a hard, determined line. This was not a woman Lola wanted to be on the wrong side of. “I believe Tatiana killed your daughter to show me she was here, to show me what she would do to me when she had the chance.”

The anger turned red-hot. A vampire. What good would a gun do against such a monstrous creature? “My daughter’s life was worth more than being someone’s calling card. Why is this vampire after you?”

“I agree about your daughter’s life.” Chrysabelle bent her head for a moment, sighing, then she lifted her gaze to Lola. “Tatiana wants something I have. I won’t tell you what. To do so would only put you in danger.” Chrysabelle’s eyes stayed focused on Lola like a challenge.

Yes, Lola thought. She hides the information from me for my benefit. It made her want to spit. Instead, she kept her composure, such as it was, and focused on the problem of such a creature loose in her city. “I will help you find this Tatiana, then, and kill her. What do you need?”

The comarré shook her head. “We’re not even sure she’s in town.”

Lola slapped her hand down on the chair’s arm, causing John’s eyes to widen. Of course, he’d seen her upset, but never angry like this. Time he learned the extent of her temper. “Then who killed my daughter? The police have told me nothing so far.”

John cleared his throat. “It’s only been two days. I’m sure they’ll come up with something.”

“They’d better.” She exhaled through her nose, trying to find a molecule of calm. “It was this vampire, I feel it.” She jutted her chin toward Malkolm. “You, you’re one of her kind. You know this vampire that killed Julia? How do we stop her?”

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “We? You’re human. What do you think you can do?”

“Answer the question, vampire.”

His jaw popped to one side before realigning itself. “I know her well enough. Stopping her is not going to be easy. She’s very powerful. Too powerful.”

Lola stood and walked to the wet bar. She splashed rum into a tumbler and swallowed half of it. It burned down her throat, matching her mood. She turned and leaned against the counter. “Everyone has a weakness. What is hers?”

The comarré looked at the vampire. Creek watched them with interest. Lola could tell they were all thinking the same thing, but from the looks on their faces, they would not be sharing that thing with her. Chrysabelle tucked some hair behind her ear, her gold marks flashing light.

Had Julia looked like that? She’d not seen her daughter in so long and then to see her lying bloody in the street, torn apart and broken… Lola drowned the image in the remaining rum. The liquid heat seared away the threatening tears. “Well? What is it?”

“Power. She wants power.”

More exchanged glances before Chrysabelle answered, “Which is why she wants the thing she thinks I have. It isn’t in my possession at the moment but it will be. Soon. Which is why I can’t stay here much longer.”

Lola went back to her seat, but only took the edge, putting herself closer to the comarré. “I may be human, but I have my own kind of power as mayor. I have people and resources. I will do whatever I can to bring this monster down. You go and get this thing, then, but when you return, you come back here immediately. Your friends can educate me some more while you’re gone.”

Malkolm’s brows lifted. “First of all, Creek and I are going with her. Secondly, there seems to be an implied ‘or else’ in that statement.”