“Is he in the library? I’ll deal with his temper.”
Nick’s voice broke in. “Baojia?”
“Yes?”
“He’s waiting.”
Baojia frowned as Paula stepped away from him. She did not follow him, but turned and walked in the direction of her office. He smothered the fleeting hope he’d felt for a moment when he’d seen her face. He hadn’t been face-to-face with his sire in almost three years. Baojia had hoped for months the invitation would come. Had hoped he would be forgiven and welcomed back. But he knew whatever eventual homecoming happened, his father would not forgive this impertinence. Baojia had been sent away; it was up to Ernesto to set the terms of his return. By appearing like this, he might never be welcomed back as an honored son.
He took a calming breath. His sire’s reputation and safety were more important than Baojia’s own position. He walked toward his fate with resolve.
When Nick opened the door, Baojia saw him. The rush of affection was natural, the blood in his veins recognized the immortal who had given him life. But layered upon that were years of devotion and respect. “Father?”
Ernesto did not look up from his seat behind his desk.
“Father, I ask your forgiv—”
“Why do you come to my home when you have not been called?”
The sting was immediate and ripping. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat. “I must tell you—”
“There was a human murdered and her body dumped near the Salton City casino. Your brother has already informed me. What did you do with the body? The human authorities should have been contacted. This is not a concern of mine.”
“But it is.”
“I am told it is not.”
Baojia frowned. “Who has told you this?”
His father finally looked up. “What have you done with it, Baojia? Why are you going against protocol? The human police should have been called.”
“There is something very wrong here. I did not take her body, Father. Tulio did, along with the others.”
He heard his sire start to grumble. “That meddling hermit. I should kick him out of my territory.”
“I would not advise that.”
“And what would you advise?” His voice rose. “Going down to Ensenada after foolish women? Attacking a rival organization’s guards? Confiding in a newspaper reporter?”
It was worse than {as e ru he’d anticipated. “If you would let me explain—”
“Explain what?” Ernesto’s anger was legendary, as loud as his child’s was silent. His voice echoed through the house, and Baojia could hear the guards scurry to the door.
“There are humans being murdered in the desert by vampires,” Baojia said, keeping his voice even and calm. “Bodies have been dropped on your land like some dog pissing on a tree, marking his territory. Whoever is doing this is threatening you, your reputation, and everyone under your aegis. Father, you have to listen—”
“Do not call me your father as you stand before me, insulting me with your presence!”
Baojia could not breathe. The pain radiated from his chest as Ernesto rose to his feet.
Ernesto continued on. “Do you think I am incapable of seeing what is before me? Do you think I need you to tell me what is and isn’t a threat?”
He forced himself to speak. “Someone in the cartel—it might only be Ivan, but it could be more—is testing you.”
“Stop trying to justify yourself and leave my presence. Maybe someday I will forgive this disrespect.”
“There is something very wrong with the bodies of these girls.” He looked at the floor, swallowed back the lump in his throat, and kept talking. “Packs are feeding from them—”
“Get out.”
“—and their blood is tainted by something that makes it—”
“I will have your own men remove you, if I must.”
“You must listen to me!” Baojia roared, raising his voice to his sire for the first time in over 120 years. He raised his eyes and met Ernesto’s shocked stare. Slowly, the shock fell away to be replaced by a cold expression.
“You will bring this reporter—the woman from Mexico—to me. Leave her here and return to San Diego.”
His own temper, so long buried, roused itself. “I will not.”
Ernesto stared at him, his eyes narrowing as he bared his fangs. “You will do this, or I will have it done.”
Baojia let his lips curl back, his own fangs long in his mouth. “No, you will not.”
Slowly, his sire’s face fell, shock returning as he stared at his child. “Baojia?”
His silent heart thumped in his chest as he stared back. His sire would not listen to him. Ernesto had tied his hands behind his back, crippling