Solaris allowed her power to thicken the air in the room. As if Nefri needed a reminder that she was more than a match for a vampire, even one as ancient as Nefri.
“Then why are they attempting to poison our lands?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
With a smooth step, Solaris crossed to pour herself a glass of some milky white liquid. Nectar? Taking a sip, she turned back to study Nefri with a hard gaze.
“Peace had finally settled among my people with the death of the Dark Lord.”
“It has been a blessing for all of us,” Nefri agreed.
“A blessing as well as an opportunity for the more powerful demons to flex their muscles.” The gray eyes turned dark with the threat of a looming storm. “It wouldn’t be the first time vampires enslaved those too weak to fight back.”
Nefri wasn’t stupid enough to deny the charge. The vampires had once been little better than savages who’d wielded their superiority to use and abuse the less fortunate. Even if they were fellow vampires.
“That’s the past,” she pointed out, meeting the accusing glare with a calm composure. “The new Anasso is eager to build alliances, not to make enemies.”
“And yet he sent a vampire to the border of our lands who has been spreading his infection.”
Damn. Nefri had harbored a small measure of hope that the local demons hadn’t been aware of Gaius. Or whoever (or whatever) had caused the bloodbath in his lair.
Fooling humans was simple. Demons wouldn’t be nearly so easy.
“You’re referring to Gaius?”
“I didn’t ask his name. He was medium height with dark hair and a prominent nose. And a most”—the female shuddered—“pungent aroma.”
Nefri hesitated. The Oracles had wanted this mess cleaned up as swiftly and quietly as possible, but with every passing minute it was obvious the danger was snowballing at a terrifying rate.
This was no time for diversions or discreet lies.
She not only needed whatever information the Harpies could offer, but she had to make sure they were safe. Her duty to the Commission would never be more important than the lives of innocents.
Of course, she’d been a diplomat for centuries. A small amount of truth was often preferable to a full disclosure.
“The vampire you refer to is a traitor to his people and a servant of the Dark Lord,” she admitted. “I traveled here to make sure he faces punishment for his crimes.”
Solaris emptied her glass before setting it aside. “A convenient claim.”
“I can only give you my word.”
“And what of his strange abilities?” the Harpy demanded, her voice thickening with a dangerous power. “Do you want me to believe they come from his worship of the Dark Lord?”
“I’m not sure what strange abilities you’re referring to.”
Solaris’s wings gave an impatient flap. “His ability to infect others with his bite.”
Nefri frowned, not having to pretend her confusion. She expected claims of brutal killings or missing younglings. Not . . . infections.
“I don’t fully understand. What do you mean by infecting others?”
The Harpy studied her with a piercing gaze, perhaps seeking some sign that Nefri was lying. Then, with a powerful stride she was headed toward a door hidden behind one of the tapestries. “Come with me.”
Nefri followed behind Solaris, startled to discover herself being led through a steel-lined corridor that opened into a large room filled with a number of high-tech computers and surveillance equipment.
“I had no idea that Harpies built such elaborate nests,” she murmured as Solaris paused before a heavy door, using a key card to trip the lock.
The last Harpy nest that Nefri had entered had been little more than a few walls and a thatch roof.