I nodded. "But you have to help me," I said. "Do you know anything that could help me find the vampire who is doing this?"
"Clan Rousseau once practiced blood magic, which required them to sacrifice with the blood of human and witch children. Some of these Rousseaus denied the guilt that all Mithrans must carry, and that older Mithrans must, by law, pass on to their scions. They claimed the way of the Naturaleza - believing that they had theright , as predators, to hunt and kill humans. And they claimed that the sin of the fathers was not passed to the sons." She shook her head. "Their sin was discovered and these Rousseaus were wiped away in a great purge."
Excitement shot through me. I had heard of the purge. And this bit of history was tying all my information together.
"A strange form of insanity has always run in the Rousseau bloodline. Not something of which we oft speak. But it is there, nonetheless." Sabina looked back at LeShawn. I nearly trembled at the release from her gaze. His eyes were glazing over in death, milky and no longer appearing to watch the priestess. His features seemed to sag, and Sabina's mouth turned down at the corners, seeing it. She looked old, her skin like creased silk. I breathed out my relief slowly, and wondered if she could smell the pheromones of respite in my breath, in my sweat.
"Many of their line never find sanity after they are turned. Several decades pass and they still rave. Many such must be put down by the clan master." Her words took on the cadence of pronouncement and coercion, the vamp compulsion vibrating in her tones.
"Look to the Rousseau Clan. Look to the long-chained. Look to the dark arts. Look to the island and the history of bloodshed. Look to any who survived the purge, who were forgiven their sin and survived the cleansing."
Beast held off the force of her compulsion with claws pricking my mind; I could think and remember her words, yet not get sucked under by her. I realized that the priestess was giving me clues in her command. Not very good clues, but better than I'd had so far. But she might also be telling me to do more than I planned.
"Sin must be judged," she continued. "Absolution, if given in error, must be rescinded.
Retribution and justice must be meted out on the sinners and the guilty."
She hadn't said I had to bring them here. Had she? I was careful not to promise more than I could. And was equally cautious not to refuse. "The vampire council hired me to kill the rogue maker. When I find him, he'll be destroyed along with his scions. Their heads will be taken to the council as proof."
" 'The workman is worthy of his hire.' You will be rewarded for bringing an end to this evil."
I was smart enough to note that Sabina hadn't exactly said I'd be paid. She said I'd be rewarded, which could mean anything, including my death to keep her secrets.
Sabina turned to me, a half smile on her face. "You will not find death at my hands or at my order."
All righty, then.The vamp was reading my mind or my body language. Either one meant that it was time for me to move on. "I'll say my good-bye, then." I slid off the porch and to the ground.
"You may leave the head of the newly risen. I will see to it that bounty payment is waiting for you at the council building." After a moment she smiled. "You may call upon me again." And she disappeared with that weird brush of old-blood-scented air.
The door to the chapel snicked closed. And I hadn't even seen it open.
I swore softly, looking at the body and head. Sabina had pretty much told me to leave it alone. I wasn't about to disagree. No way. I crunched across the shells to my bike and helmeted up. I knew the young-rogue makers hadn't been at the Rousseau clan home.
Yet Bettina had smelled of one of them at the vamp party.
I paused before kicking Bitsa on. Bettina knew. She had from the very beginning. She'd had to. She was their master. All I had to do was get Bettina, shackle her in silver, and make her tell me. I had the formal invitation to visit, and Leo had access to the security systems of all the clans. There was a