“As you say,” Baudin replied, unperturbed by Anthony’s fit of temper. “But that’s not how Hubert sees it. Raphael’s like his personal nightmare. He was plainly terrified when he heard the big guy had escaped, and then had killed Mathilde. He was so scared that he didn’t, or couldn’t, even control his reaction. Not great for morale among the troops, by the way. Especially not those of us who’ve retained the ability to think.”
“Raphael will be here this weekend,” Anthony said thoughtfully.
“For the challenge kick-off,” Baudin agreed. “Hubert had hoped to be sitting in your place before then, but he’s given up on that.” His lips twisted in a wry smile as he took in the battered condition of Anthony’s chair, but he didn’t say anything out loud. Apparently, his survival sense had finally kicked in, and he’d realized he’d been less than flattering toward his own Sire.
But Anthony had much bigger problems. If Baudin was right—and he trusted the spy’s judgment on this, at least—then Anthony would be forced to put his plan into motion this week. He’d counted on being long gone by the time Hubert made his move, had assumed his successor—preferably one of his chosen candidates—would face Hubert and his vampire army.
“We’ll have to deploy closer to the border,” he said thoughtfully, thinking out loud. “The outpost near Laredo is well-positioned to cover wide stretches.”
Baudin nodded. “You don’t want to let him get too deep into Texas before you hit him.”
Anthony pursed his lips, staring blindly at the destruction of what had been an antique sideboard. Baudin was right again. Hubert would have to be met at the border.
But Anthony couldn’t risk himself so early in the conflict, which meant someone else would have to lead the forces against Hubert. He tapped a finger thoughtfully on the desktop. He could send one of his own children, but that could destroy his larger plan for New Orleans. On the other hand . . . Duvall wanted to rule the South, didn’t he? And what better chance to prove his fitness than by championing her defense? He wouldn’t be able to refuse either. What kind of message would that send to the vampires who might someday look to him for protection?
Anthony smiled slowly at his own cleverness. Sending Duvall to the front would solve more than one problem for him. And if Hubert happened to kill him . . . so much the better.
Chapter Four
Mexico City, Mexico
“DUVALL’S IN HOUSTON already?” Vincent Kuxim spoke in the general direction of the speakerphone, as he paced restlessly in front of his desk. Conference calls like this weren’t the norm in the world of vampires. Hearing was too acute and eavesdropping too common. But tonight, the party in the next room—a party he’d much rather be enjoying—nullified even the best vampire hearing, and it was more efficient this way.
“In Houston, and already fighting challenges, according to Jaclyn.” That was Juro, Raphael’s security chief. If anyone knew the comings and goings in Raphael’s territory, it was Juro, especially when it involved an unexpectedly powerful vampire, even if the South wasn’t precisely Raphael’s territory.
“Jaclyn,” Vincent repeated. “Why isn’t she going after the South herself?”
“No interest,” Raphael said simply. He and his people were on speakerphone, too. “She and her staff want to come home.”
Vincent glanced at his lieutenant, Michael, who shrugged back at him. Some vampires were wired to be ambitious, and some weren’t. It was a good thing. Kept the bloodshed to a minimum. But he still didn’t understand it.
“Is the challenge open already? Then why am I dragging my ass to Houston this weekend?”
“Because it’s not officially open yet. Anthony claims Duvall ambushed one of his vampires and took him out preemptively.”
“Which vamp?”
“Noriega.” That was Jared speaking this time. He’d spent a lot of time in the South, and probably knew the players better than any of them.
Vincent frowned. “I don’t know him. Guess I never will now. But it doesn’t sound like you believe Anthony’s story.”
“It’s becoming obvious that Anthony wants one of his own to succeed him,” Jared replied. “Noriega would have fit the bill, except for one thing. He didn’t have the power to win the challenge.”
“And Duvall?” Vincent asked, knowing he was missing something in this conversation.
“He would have flicked Noriega aside like a bug,” Jared said flatly. “Anthony’s claiming Duvall saw Noriega as a threat. That just doesn’t fit.”
Vincent paced back and forth a couple more times. “You think Anthony set his own child up to take the fall. If Noriega managed to succeed, then Duvall’s dead and out of Anthony’s hair. If not, then Anthony files a claim with the Council, and gets rid of him that way.” He walked over to join Michael who was now busy on the computer, searching incoming files. Michael looked up and shook his head.
“I don’t have a formal complaint from Anthony yet. Do you?”
“I received a courtesy phone call from him,” Raphael provided in his deep voice. “The formal claim will arrive tomorrow.”
“Anthony has to know this won’t stand up to scrutiny. So what game is he playing?” Vincent asked.
“He’s delaying,” Raphael said. “The question is why.”
“Shit. I don’t need this. I’ve got those European fuckers lurking in every corner of my territory, thanks to Enrique. Can I at least trust the intel that Duvall provided on Hubert?”