I turned to the courtyard and waved at Roman and the witch next to him.

“Is that his sister?” Andrea asked to me.

“No.” I had spoken with both of them. “I’d asked her that. Her name is Alina, she isn’t his sister, and she feels deeply sorry for his sisters, because if she had to put up with being in his presence for longer than a day, she would throw herself off the nearest bridge just to end the agony.”

“Well,” Andrea said. “Glad she cleared that up.”

The dark volhv waved back at me and shouted, “Showtime!”

Alina sighed next to him. “What are you so happy about? We’re going to get killed.”

The two of them started toward the gates.

“It’s exciting,” Roman said. “Look at all of those shapeshifters and vampires. It’s a historic moment and the Pack will owe us.”

“How is it that you have no common sense? Were they all out when you were born?”

Roman indicated his face. “I don’t need common sense. I have a double helping of charm.”

“You mean a double helping of bullshit . . .”

They passed through the gates under us and Derek and two other shapeshifters barred them, lifting the enormous beam in place. The boy wonder, bald and pale, had decided that he’d had enough rest. I didn’t have the energy to fight with him about it.

Roman and the witch stopped about fifty feet from the gate. A single vampire emerged from the undead horde and ran over to them. Roman spoke to it. He would be listing our conditions: we would meet two Masters of the Dead in front of the gates and discuss the murder of Mulradin. Roman and the witch would act as impartial witnesses. And if Hugh got anywhere within fifty feet of that meeting, all negotiations would cease.

The vampire returned. The witch raised her head and spread her arms. A dark green spark pulsed from her and split into a thousand narrow ribbons of green. They shot from her, falling into the snow. Steam rose as the snow melted and the green burrowed into the ground, forming a perfect ring about fifty feet in diameter. Thin green stalks sprouted from the exposed ground and stretched upward, turning into knee-high thorns.

We had our meeting.

• • •

I WALKED OUT into the snowy field next to Jim. The gates of the Keep stood closed behind us. On the wall, Andrea stood with a power crossbow. She’d brought a sniper rifle in case the magic dropped.

The sea of vampires parted and Ghastek walked out, tall, slender, wearing a long military-style white jacket and white pants, strategically broken by small irregular splotches of brown. White boots and a helmet in the same pattern completed the outfit. Apparently he intended to bury himself in the snow and snipe at us from his cover. A woman followed him. She wore an identical uniform and the helmet hid her hair, but I’d know Rowena anywhere. She was in debt to the witches and she had been secretly supplying me with vampire blood. She didn’t know what I did with it, but if she ever found out, her helmet would fly right off her head because her hair would stand on end.

“What the hell are they wearing?” Jim murmured next to me.

“They’re playing soldier. It probably cost them an arm and a leg.”

“Still might,” Jim offered.

Ghastek carefully stepped over the thorns into the circle. Rowena followed him.

The horde of undead rippled again and Hugh rode out. He wore dark leather armor and a long cloak edged with wolf fur. Nice touch. When you’re going to confront a Keep full of people who turn furry, make sure you’re wearing some dead animal’s skin on your cloak. His enormous black horse, a massive Friesian, danced under him, long black mane flying, the black feathers on its legs raising powdery snow. Steam rose from the stallion’s nostrils.

Hugh should’ve brought a banner with I AM BAD stitched on it in gold. The horse, the armor, and the fur weren’t making enough of a statement.

Jim leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Hugh.

“Don’t,” I murmured.

Hugh guided the horse along the thorn border. The Friesian circled us, never crossing over the boundary. Hugh was clearly an “obey the letter of the agreement, not the spirit” kind of guy.

I wanted to pull him off his horse and grind his face into the dirt.

“Have you apprehended the murderer?” Ghastek asked.

“Yes.” I passed him a piece of paper with Double D’s handwritten confession on it. He read it and glanced at Hugh. Hugh was staring at me. Looking is free. Try to come closer and I will cure what ails you and me both.

Ghastek read further. Distaste twisted his face. “That is . . . unfortunate.”

“I think it’s tragic, personally, but we can go with unfortunate, if you want.” My deadline was rapidly approaching. Beau Clayton was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had hung me out to dry.

Ghastek folded the paper in half and passed it to Rowena. She read it and looked up. A rapid mental calculation was taking place behind Rowena’s eyes. She directed the People’s public relations. This whole thing was a PR nightmare for everyone involved.

“Did you read the part where d’Ambray walked in on her, held a gun to her head, and forced her to kill Mulradin, so he could manufacture this war?”

Ghastek looked like he had bitten into a peach and realized it was rotten. “I am sure she says that he did. I have not read the part where she presents evidence of this wild story. Perhaps there’s a rider or an exhibit I missed?”

That’s okay, I had more. “Why would she lie?”

Hugh kept circling us. A small smile curved his lips. He looked like a man who was enjoying himself. Snow, sunshine, brisk air, a fast horse . . . and impending slaughter. All the things a growing boy needs.

“To prevent this conflict. Perhaps it was a lovers’ quarrel,” Ghastek said. “Perhaps she wanted to rob him. I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t care at the moment. Can you prove that she is the killer and not some sacrificial lamb?”

“You’re welcome to run her DNA. It will match what’s on Mulradin.”

“Are you prepared to turn her over to us?”

“No.”

Ghastek leaned forward. “Kate, I hate to resort to threats, but there is a certain responsibility you and I both have to the people we’re leading in this conflict . . .”

To the left of him, three horsemen emerged from under the trees. Beau or not Beau?

“The casualties and financial costs of war will be catastrophic,” Ghastek said. “I understand that you’re counting on the help of whatever navigator you hired, but I assure you, we’re more than capable of neutralizing him or her.”

“What navigator?”

“The one who assisted you last night at the Conclave.”

What was he on about?

Oh.

Apparently I had hidden too well. For all of his intelligence, Ghastek still hadn’t put two and two together. He knew with absolute certainty that I couldn’t pilot vampires. He had seen me not pilot them on numerous occasions. In his mind, I couldn’t possibly do it, so I had to have hired someone else and that someone must’ve grabbed control of the vampires at the Conclave. Right.

“We have a duty to avert this,” Ghastek said.

“You’re right. You should send your undead army home and we’ll discuss this like reasonable people.”

Ghastek sighed. “I’m a reactive party to the bloodshed.”

“Ghastek, you’re an intelligent man. You’re standing here wearing ridiculous fatigues and getting ready to assault a place full of families and children with a horde of vampires. Does this seem right to you?”

Ghastek’s face jerked. “The concepts of right or wrong are inconsequential in this case.”

“The concepts of right or wrong are always consequential. It can’t be situational or it’s not right or wrong.”

“I didn’t come here to debate ethical obligations with you,” Ghastek said.

“You opened the door. I just walked through it.”

“You’re harboring a fugitive. Deliver her to our custody.”

A shout made me turn. A man jumped from the wall of the Keep and sprinted to us. Brandon, Jennifer’s pet wolf. Now what? If he did anything to disrupt this, I’d break his neck.

Brandon dashed across the snow and leaped into the circle. He was clutching something in his hand.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jim snarled.

Brandon dodged him. He opened his fingers and I caught a flash of what he was holding—Jennifer’s water bottle. He ripped the cap off it and hurled the liquid at me.

I moved, but not fast enough. Cold water splashed my right cheek, soaking my hair. Behind me, Ghastek threw his hands up, and what missed me landed on his fingers. The Master of the Dead stared, bewildered, water dripping from hands. His eyes bulged in angry confusion.

Jim moved. His hand closed on Brandon’s wrist and twisted. Brandon dropped to his knees into the snow, his arm wrenched out of its socket.

The whole world had gone nuts on me. I couldn’t even get angry anymore. I’d run out of rage.

“It’s done,” the blond man squeezed out. “I did it for her.”

What the hell? I would kill Jennifer. I would do it myself and save Desandra the trouble.

Jim twisted his arm, bending him into a pretzel. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He grabbed Brandon by his collar and dragged him out of the circle toward the Keep. The gates opened just enough to let a person pass, and Derek and another shapeshifter shot out. Jim shoved Brandon in their direction, turned around, and came back into the circle.

Ghastek finally regained his ability to speak. “How dare you? Is this an insult?”

“Yes,” I told him. “But to me, not to you. My deepest apologies.”

Hugh chuckled.

Derek and the other shapeshifter muscled Brandon back behind the doors.

Ghastek opened his mouth. No words came out. He was obviously struggling to get himself under control.

“I’m very sorry,” I repeated. Now I was apologizing to the man who was threatening to kill me. Here’s hoping my arteries didn’t explode from the pressure.

“This is outrageous.”

“So is dropping loose vampires into the middle of a Conclave meeting.”

Ghastek clamped his mouth shut.

“We will take the accused now,” Rowena said.

The three riders drew closer. Sheriff hats. It had to be Beau.

“And if we give her to you? What then? A lynching? Maybe you’ll burn her at the stake? Last time I checked we at least pretended we were civilized people.”

Ghastek locked his teeth. He kept a pair of chains used in witch trials on the wall of his office. The reminder of witch burnings had hit home.

“She will be given every opportunity to prove her innocence,” Rowena said.

“Yes, she will,” Jim said. “We’re turning her over to human law enforcement.”

Hugh’s face lost its half-smile. Oh no. Did you find half a worm in the apple you just bit?

“That would be extremely unwise,” Ghastek said.

“Why?”

“For one, it exposes both of our factions to public scrutiny,” Rowena said.

“I thought you were all about avoiding bloodshed,” Jim said.

I gave Ghastek my best psycho smile. “I think we could all benefit from a little transparency.”

“You’re f**king up,” Hugh said from his horse.

“Shut the hell up,” I told him. “Nobody’s talking to you.”

“You’re bluffing,” Hugh said. “You won’t find anyone to take her.”

I pointed to the approaching riders.

Ghastek turned to glance over his shoulder. Beau and two deputies, a short compact man with red hair and a Hispanic woman in her forties, were closing in.

“Beau Clayton?” Ghastek dipped his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He has no jurisdiction here.”

“Yes he does. Those woods over there are in Milton County.”

Hugh’s eyes turned dark.

“He’s respected and has a high profile,” Ghastek called out. “If you kill him, every law enforcement agency will converge on us.”

Beau was only a few yards away. Six foot six and built like one of the ancient Saxons who swung axes as tall as they were, Beau rode a dappled Percheron cross that stood about eighteen hands tall and looked strong enough to pull a semi. The two deputies rode Tennessee walkers. Three riders, three shotguns. Nothing else.

Beau came to a stop. The vampires stared at him, held in check by the navigators’ minds.

“Alright,” Beau boomed. “I’m Beau Clayton, lawfully elected by the people of Milton County as their sheriff. It’s the duty of my office to faithfully execute all writs, warrants, precepts, and processes directed to me as sheriff of this county. I’m here to execute a warrant.”

The bloodsuckers stared at him.

Hugh’s stare turned calculating. He was thinking about it.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take this person into custody. You are going to turn around and go home. The lynching has been canceled. Move along. There is nothing to see here.”

Hugh’s stallion danced under him.

“Disperse,” Beau repeated.

Hugh reached for his sword.

I raised my hand. The gates of the Keep swung open. Shapeshifters in warrior form waited in rows, filling the courtyard, their fur raised, their fangs bared. I had put every shapeshifter capable of a half-form into the courtyard. Sixty-four people. Only eighteen were combat rated, but from here, it looked like every single one was a render.