in coincidence," he said, "about ten seconds before I stopped believing in Santa Claus. It's like this. Leo visits Asheville, is attacked in a hotel, and wins a gun battle. Within weeks of the attack on Pellissier, Lincoln Shaddock and three of his vamps in Asheville become ill with a brand-new vamp disease. Then Sedona gets sick, then Seattle, and now Boston. They got challenged, swore loyalty, and got better. Leo's Asheville vamps are still sick, unlike in cities where the MOCs got sick, challenged and defeated, and then received treatment. Shaddock's peeps are dying - as if it's a punishment rather than a takeover tool."
Which thought made me sit up in my chair. Vamps were big on sneak attacks and vengeance. This scenario made all kinds of sense. Shaddock was bound to Leo and an attack on Shaddock was, by extension, an attack on Leo.
Reach went on, "Yeah, it's outside the attacking vamp's modus operandi, but the symptoms of Lincoln's peeps are exactly the same as those of the other masters of the city who fell through the looking glass."
"Peeps," I muttered. I knew those vamps. Among the sick ones was Dacy Mooney, Lincoln's heir. The two were vicious killing machines. The fact that I sorta liked them may have said something not quite sane about me. "We only think the other vamps were treated. We don't have empirical evidence," I said.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. But the disease is circumstantial evidence I'm willing to bet on. I think our BBV" - Big Bad Vamp, I thought with a smile - "started in Asheville with a frontal attack, and had to abandon his plans there when Leo's people kicked his butt, and he left the disease as a punishment, a calling card, a warning, and a threat. The evidence you obtain in Sedona and Seattle will either confirm or deny that theory."
"Ahhh," I said. "That makes sense, which is why I pay you the big bucks." The jet bumped up as if slapped high by a giant hand; then the bottom fell out. The small craft dropped what had to be a thousand feet before catching itself. On air. "Crap," I whispered.
My things in an overhead compartment thumped around as gravity was again defeated. I wrenched my seat belt so tight it nearly cut me in two.
Inside me, my Beast huffed with amusement.
Beast is the soul of a mountain lion that I absorbed when I was a child and fighting for my life. It had been accidental, as much as black magic can ever be an accident. When I shifted, Beast's was the form I most often took, and her thoughts and opinions counted nearly as much as my own. Fun, she thought. Like chasing rabbits in hills.
I slapped my brain back on, swallowed my dinner yet again, and focused. "Agreed," I said, wishing I'd turned down this job. "But that theory still leaves questions. Why did the attacking master choose vamp strongholds so far apart on the map? Running three cities at a distance has to be a pain. Why not announce to the world who he is and what he's doing? Every vamp I know is a megalomaniac and would publicize his conquest. This guy hasn't." And the newly subdued master vamps weren't talking about what had happened on their turf or who their new master was - at all - which was another reason for this flight.
"The attacker is cheating, not challenging, according to the Vampira Carta," Reach said.
I grunted again. The Vampira Carta and its codicils were the rule of law for the vamps - or Mithrans, as they liked to be called - and it contained laws and rules for proper behavior between vampires, their scions, blood-servants, blood-slaves, and cattle - meaning the humans they hunted. It provided proper protocols for everything, including challenging and killing each other in a duel called the Blood Challenge. The new vamp had challenged his conquests, but there had been no fights. None at all. And Boston, attacked a week ago, had gone off the grid. There had been no communication from that MOC in days. He was presumed to be true-dead.
Reach said, "If an unknown vamp is making a major power play, one that involves vamps getting sick, and Leonard Pellissier, Master of the City of New Orleans, is attacked, and then Leo's scions get sick, it's the same dude."
"That isn't quite ipso facto. It's still more than half speculation."
"Ipso facto? Janie knows her Latin. I'm sending you a