of a blade cleaving flesh that caught his attention.
She sat again and Clive took in the seeping slices she’d made into the skin of Roderick’s arm and chest, shredding the expensive smoking jacket the other Vampire wore.
“Next time I’m going to start breaking things while I leave this knife in your body. It’s silver so you won’t heal nearly as fast,” Rowan told Roderick. “Answer his question and do yourself a favor, Rod.”
He laughed and she sprang forward and in two movements she’d broken several of his fingers, had stabbed him through the shoulder, leaving her blade there, and was sitting back in her chair.
Christ she was ferocious. His gums ached as he had to push back his desire for her and get back to the task at hand.
David spared a brief glance at the scene and went back to work. It was only a matter of time before his computer search would bear fruit and Clive needed to get answers from Roderick before that happened.
“I asked you where you got this.” Clive held the token again, his thumb brushing over the print on the smooth side.
Rod was finally understanding the depth of his trouble. Clive saw it in the other Vampire’s eyes. Still thinking, deciding, planning whatever deception he might think would get him free of this still alive.
“It’s a collectable. I find such pieces of our history, especially that time when we reigned supreme, interesting enough to acquire them when they come available.”
* * *
Rowan left another blade, this one long and thin, in Roderick’s left thigh.
“I answered the question!” Rod screamed.
“You lied. I told you up front lying was not allowed.” Rowan’s voice was modulated hard and sharp at the edge, enough to slice into Roderick’s last bit of bravado.
“It was payment for a spell. As you know.” Roderick said this with his jaw clenched.
“Payment for an illegal spell,” Rowan said. “Because you run a pretty lucrative black market in illegal magic. And you funnel some of that cash back into the Blood Front so they can also give a cut to whatever power is at the top of all these trap and siphon spells. How am I doing?”
He nodded. “I could tweet about it or I could support the organization that will take our rightful place again on the face of the earth.”
Rowan wasn’t the only one rolling her eyes at that.
“You haven’t earned your rightful place. Who gave you this?” Clive demanded, adding the power of the Vampires he ruled as Scion.
Rowan gave him a sideways look. Chances were that much raw power in London would alert Warren that Clive was hunting on his territory and using his power as Scion there. A very tricky thing.
She said nothing, trusting, he knew, that Clive was aware of what he was doing and that he did it on purpose.
“House Stewart of Three.”
Rowan didn’t turn to look at Clive then. She went very still, hands on the blades in her lap.
He hoped she wasn’t going to use them on him for not saying it up front. He’d needed to hear it from Roderick. Out loud. So that he could accept what he would have to do in response.
“Thomas Stewart.”
Clive’s uncle. His father’s next oldest brother. Clive’s father was House Stewart. Clive, being Scion and the heir to House Stewart, was House Stewart of Two.
“Tell me exactly what my uncle has used this to pay for and do not use this moment as one to attempt bravado.”
Roderick didn’t even hesitate. “He’s my main connection to the leadership of the Blood Front. I pass the percentage to him. He sometimes buys spells but usually pays for them for others who then pick them up from me or an associate.”
“My uncle uses magic?”
“He buys the spells. I don’t know if he uses them or if he gives them to others to use.”
“What kind of spells?”
“Why don’t you ask him? He’s your uncle.”
* * *
Rowan slapped his face over the slow healing marks she’d carved there earlier. She hated the wince she’d felt from Clive through their bond.
“Siphons and traps mainly. Sometimes something mundane like a sex related spell. Stay hard, get off multiple times, that sort. Usually he just paid for Lyr’s stuff. I swear,” he added, looking over to Rowan.
“I have questions about the contents of these two boxes when you’re done,” Genevieve said. “Why not just jump into his head, steal his memories and be done with this fool altogether?” she asked Clive.
“Sometimes you need a scalpel not a