Later, as we left Darren Hollen’s house, Aaron told me, “I think it’s about time we reopened that case.”

We were heading back toward Imperial Lane, the section of the city that housed the imperial palace and the estates of the ruling families. According to the sultry voice who’d answered Aaron’s phone call back to his office, Governor Moonswallow had a house at the far end of the street. It was about as far from the palace as you could get and still write ‘Imperial Lane’ on your mailbox.

“So Moonswallow was spying on Ethan for Veronica,” I said as we walked alongside the thick metal bars that surrounded the palace grounds.

“Ethan works for Hayden. He was in charge of the prince’s security. If Moonswallow is the traitor, spying on Ethan could be how he got the information he passed along to the witches.” Aaron’s face hardened. “And Veronica is holding Moonswallow’s leash.”

But according to Darren, Ethan knew Moonswallow was following him. He’d never say anything of consequence while Moonswallow was around to hear it.

“What do you know about Raith Moonswallow?” I asked Aaron.

“Not much. He’s not even a player amongst the inner circle of the Selpe aristocracy. Everything I’ve heard about him suggests that he is a very ordinary man. No vision. No imagination. No drive whatsoever. Someone like that would be very easy to manipulate.”

A sports car roared around the corner, the sunlight bouncing off its glossy red surface, a heavy bass pounding out of its open windows. Two of the car’s wheels rolled up onto the curb, and I jumped out of the way. Then the car popped back down onto the street and sped away, the driver oblivious to the seething glare I was shooting his way. I tried drawing on my innate Phantom powers, forcing them to go active, but just like anything Phantom, you couldn’t force them to do anything. It was too bad, though, because I would have really enjoyed blowing a hole in one of that jerk’s tires.

“Vampire lords drive about as well as they dance,” I commented.

“Yes.” The amusement in his eyes was bordering on glee.

“This is not funny, Aaron. That lunatic almost ran me over.”

“That was Lord Rylan Timberland. Remember him from last night?”

“The doorknob-stroking vampire lord who killed his father? How could I forget?”

“Yes. He was checking you out at the party last night. Knowing him, that stunt right now was his way of flirting with you.”

I frowned.

“If it makes you feel better, I can send two of my guys to pay him a visit,” Aaron offered.

“What makes you think that would make me feel better?”

“They wouldn’t hurt him. Just spook him a little.”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

I gave him a long, hard look. “You’re going to send your soldiers to him anyway, aren’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” His voice was pure innocence, his face angelic. And I didn’t buy it for a second.

“Let’s just get back to the matter at hand,” I said. “Governor Moonswallow.”

Aaron’s face grew serious, professional. “He’s Veronica’s pawn. This reeks of her all over. The problem with my dear cousin Veronica is that she’s too devious to get caught. But I’m willing to bet her patsy Moonswallow isn’t nearly as careful. Most people aren’t.”

We’d made it to the end of Imperial Lane. And it was literally an end. The street just stopped, further entry barred by a thick concrete wall that surrounded an enormous estate.

“Moonswallow’s house?” I asked.

He saw where I was looking and shook his head. “No, that one,” he said, pointing at one of the small neighboring plots. It was about a tenth the size of the monstrosity at the end of the road. “The big one belongs to Lord Ilex.”

“The cowboy?”

“Yes.” Aaron was grinning as we cut across the street to Moonswallow’s house. Unlike Ilex, Moonswallow didn’t have a thick wall; he had a hedge of neatly-trimmed evergreens and a single garden door. “Well, I suppose cowboys need their space. He probably has a herd of cattle roaming around behind that wall.”

Vampire cowboys. I had to admit that reading Lord Ilex’s file had shocked me.

Aaron pressed a button on Moonswallow’s gate. Almost immediately, a woman in a long black gown came rushing down the path and stopped on the other side of the door.

“Yes?” Her eyes were anxious, her face dour.

“Mrs. Moonswallow?” Aaron asked.

“I am.”

“I’m Aaron Pall from the Diamond Edges,” he said.

“I know who you are, Major Pall. Your face is quite famous around here.”

“May we come in? We’d like to talk to you about your husband,” he said, his words dipped in honey.

It was this very charm that made women lose their heads around Aaron, and Mrs. Moonswallow was no exception. She brushed out a wrinkle in her skirt, adjusted the decorative net that covered one side of her face, then pressed the button to open the gate. We followed her inside the house.

In addition to a posh collection of color-coordinated sofas and seats, wall-to-ceiling cherrywood bookcases, and a selection of serene oil paintings, the Moonswallows’ front parlor boasted of vaulted ceilings so high that I could have comfortably swung back and forth from the rafters.

“What can I do for you, Major Pall?” Mrs. Moonswallow asked as we sat down opposite her. She folded her hands primly in her lap, the lace cuffs of her sleeves like black snowflakes against her pale skin.

“We just have some questions about your husband’s habits,” Aaron replied. “If I understand correctly, Governor Moonswallow visited the capital once a month?”

“Yes. He had a standing business meeting in Orion every four weeks.”

“How long did he stay each time?”

“Usually two days.”

Aaron reached over to a side table and picked up one of the picture frames. The photograph inside was of a young woman—eighteen years old or so—with a round face and soft shoulder-length locks. She looked like a younger version of Mrs. Moonswallow.

“Your daughter?” Aaron asked her.

“Yes. That’s Anna.”

“Do you and Anna often accompany your husband to Orion?”

“We spend more time in Orion than Raith does. Especially Anna. She is such a social girl. Very popular. Back at Fen, she was terribly bored. But here she has so much to see and do.” Mrs. Moonswallow gave Aaron a look that bordered on desperate. “Everyone says she’s such a pretty girl. And she’s wanted to meet you for so very long, Major Pall. She’s seen you at some parties, but she was always too shy to come say hello. I could introduce you, if you’d like?”

Aaron smiled. “I will make sure to go say hello to her the next time I see her.”

Mrs. Moonswallow’s expression brightened, if only just a little.

“Do you know anything about your husband’s meetings with Veronica Frostwater?” he asked her.

Her face faded back to dour. “No.”

“Are you sure? We have reason to believe they were working together.”

“My husband has never met Lady Veronica.”

“According to our source, Governor Moonswallow met with her regularly. Often aboard her ship.”

“I know nothing about that,” she said, her lips thin.

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Moonswallow,” Aaron said, standing. “I have just one final question before we leave. Where can we find Governor Moonswallow now?”

Mrs. Moonswallow had only stood halfway when her legs gave out and she plopped back down on the sofa. “I thought you knew. I thought that’s why you were here.”

“Knew what?” Aaron asked.

“Raith is dead.” Her voice shook. “His body was found on the streets last night. His pockets had been turned out, his head torn off.”