leaned in and rang a little silver bell on the table. Seriously.
He rang a bell. And a woman in a white and gray maid's uniform appeared from the side door.
"Tea for the lady," Bruiser said, without taking his eyes from me. "A nice, black, single estate." To me he said, "Have you breakfasted?"
I propped my hands on my hips, knowing my stance was hostile and aggressive. "Not today."
"Eggs, bacon, fruit, cereal?" he asked, the genial host, offering an informal list.
I was about to refuse, but my stomach rumbled in answer. And why not? I had to eat. I was drawing on Beast's power and that used a lot of energy. "Half dozen eggs over easy, a rasher of bacon cut thick and cooked crisp. Lots of toast, no butter," I said to her, playing as though I didn't see the general shock at the amount of food I'd requested.
"And thank you." When I smiled at her, there was no halfway about it and the Latino girl smiled back, ducked her head, and returned though the side door. See? I can be nice.
Bruiser indicated a chair at his left. I didn't see any reason to be obstinate or difficult -
any more than I already was - so I took it and sat, the legs of the chair scraping hollowly on the porch flooring. I smelled gun oil. Bruiser was armed on his own home turf. That seemed relevant, but I wasn't sure how or why.
The food must have been cooked and sitting on a warmer, because the little maid reappeared immediately, carrying a large tray. She served me. Bruiser poured my tea.
So far, so good. I hadn't had to kill anyone. Yet.
Chapter 18
Three hundred years, give or take a few decades
The food was good, the yellow of the eggs sloppy, and the toast perfect for sopping it up, protein and fat in every bite. It was a meal that could be eaten fast, even with the quantity I'd ordered. I didn't waste time on conversation; I just ate.
When the food was gone, I waved my fork at my plate, set it down with a soft clink, and met Bruiser's eyes. "Okeydoke. Thanks for the breakfast. So, tell me a couple things.
Tell me what happened at the Rousseau clan home. I know you got security camera feed from it. Tell me why the human cops hadn't been on scene. Tell me about the purge."
Bruiser started in shock. I slouched back in my seat, my teacup in hand. "And tell me about the Rousseau clan's insanity. And while you're spilling your guts, tell me about the long-chained." He snapped his mouth shut, eyes hot with anger. I laughed. "Don't worry. I didn't torture it out of anyone. Sabina told me. And it's need-to-know info because she thinks it's all tied in with the maker of the young rogue."
"Sabina talked to you . . ." he breathed. When I didn't comment he said, "You have a way about you, Jane Yellowrock." He reached for the coffeepot. I slammed his hand down, pinning it to the tabletop with mine, and said, almost in a growl, "Tell me. Now. I don't have time to play nice."
He was silent, staring at our hands, though he didn't try to pull his free. "Giving you any information without Leo's approval could be costly to me."
"Not giving it would be costlier," I said.
Bruiser looked from our hands to my face and said, "I'd like coffee." I removed my hand and he filled his cup. Set the pot aside. "The Rousseau clan home's security system went offline a little after two this morning. By the time Leo's people arrived, it was deserted. We don't know what happened." When I said nothing to that, he added cream and sugar, stirred, sipped, and went on.
"The purge took place after the events of the slave uprising on the island of Saint Domingue - called Haiti today. You know of the revolt?"
Before I could catch myself, I blinked, and was instantly sorry that I'd given my reaction away. Sabina had said something about an island. I shook my head no. He smiled ruefully, clearly not believing me. "A history lesson, then.
"Many don't know that the island was a haven for Mithrans. The clans there lived in a strict social and political society based on race and wealth, with the white vampires at the top, the vampyres du couleur libre - the free vampires of color who were landowners and slave owners in their own rights