I gave him a sidelong look. He sounded so unconcerned. “Should I be worried?”
“About your safety?” His glance at me was almost amused. “Not at all. Beau made sure we got the word out that you are under his protection. There are plenty of people who don’t like him, but everyone loves Promenade, and he’s the only vampire in the city who can pull off something this elaborate. Nobody would make such a bold move against him in public. They’d never get support from the rest of the Atlanta vampires.”
“It might be worth it to them,” I pointed out, “if they’re the ones stealing Beau’s ghosts.”
Milburn snorted. “If someone is stealing the ghosts, it has to be a boundary witch, and she’s stayed under the radar so far.”
I hadn’t expected any of the Horsemen to express doubt about Beau’s accusations, but I didn’t get a chance to ask before Milburn gestured ahead of us. “Oh look, here’s Beau,” he said gaily. We had reached the side of the bell tower, where Beau was helping a group of musicians get themselves situated.
The cardinal vampire was dressed head to toe in gray—gray suit, gray shirt, gray tie, polished gray shoes—but everything looked modern and expensive. It was the same suit, I realized, that Milburn and Warton were wearing, only those two had white shirts and black shoes. Some kind of symbolism, I figured, but I didn’t know what it meant.
The band had to be Old World, given the humans-go-away spell, but they looked like any ordinary jazz ensemble: three men and two women with a trumpet, a trombone, a saxophone, a guitar, and a set of drums. They’d mostly unpacked the instruments, but they were still organizing cords for the amplifiers. A sixth person, a dark-haired white woman in a slinky green dress, adjusted the microphone stand, frowned at it, then adjusted it again.
“Do we need more stands?” Beau was asking as we walked up. “Cole, you need a stand?”
The trumpet player, a black man in a slightly rumpled brown suit, gave a lazy shake of his head. “Got it memorized.”
Beau turned his head at the sound of our approach, his face brightening. “Good evening, Miss Lex. Glad you made it.”
“Hello,” I said, trying to sound pleasant. Well, pleasant for me.
The singer blinked at me, then turned away, holding up a hand like she was shielding her eyes from the sun. “You’re her,” she said, sounding unsteady. “The famous boundary witch.” Behind her, I saw the other musicians exchanging glances.
I couldn’t see the singer’s eyes, but her head lifted to Beau. “I’m out of here.”
The woman started past him, but Beau gently caught her arm and wheeled her around with her own momentum. “Now, Eloise, give me some credit. She’s here as my guest, and she’s sworn not to press any vampires without my explicit permission. Isn’t that right, Miss Lex?”
“Yes,” I said firmly, knowing they would be able to smell that I was telling the truth. I stood at parade rest, trying to look casual but unafraid. “Beau is interested in finding whoever is interfering with ghosts in Atlanta, and he needs someone else who can see ghosts to help. That’s all I’m here to do.”
Milburn had sidled up to the singer’s other side, trapping her against Beau. “Of course,” Milburn drawled, casually resting his arm on Eloise’s shoulder, “anyone who did interfere with the Unsettled, that person would definitely want to skedaddle right quick before Lex got too close to ’em.”
I didn’t actually expect that to work, but Eloise slowly lowered her eyes, pretending to be suddenly immersed in the music in front of her.
I looked at Beau. “Where are the other men you’d like me to meet?”
A throng of vampires passed close by, a couple of them shouting greetings to Beau. “What time is dinner?” one vampire yelled over his shoulder. Rather than answer, Beau sent him a good-natured wave.
I frowned. “What does—”
“Milburn,” Beau said, causing the Horseman to snap to attention, “please introduce Miss Lex to Vick and Hempstead. She has some questions for all of you.”
Raising his eyebrows, Milburn pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. “I hate to miss the refreshments, Major.”
“Plenty of time.” Beau turned back to Eloise, the singer. “If you would?”
The band began to loudly play a bluesy song that I didn’t recognize, and Eloise returned to her microphone.
Putting his pocket watch away, Milburn started down the brick path behind the bell tower, leading