Keeper of the Moon - By Harley Jane Kozak Page 0,82
The DNA proves that.”
“Not to me,” Dalazar said. “Those claw marks look like the work of a bat. In any case, the shifters and vamps will be strongly motivated to find the killer among them. You’d be surprised at how well it works.”
“No,” Sailor said. “I’d be surprised if there’s not an all-out attack on the Elven in retaliation. These are vampires you’re talking about. Shapeshifters. Dalazar’s right. This isn’t the old country, it’s the Wild West, and I can see every kind of Other rising up against you. It’s madness. It’s not justified morally or practically. It’s—”
“A life for a life,” Saoirse said. “It’s entirely practical, and it’s been around for centuries. What’s the alternative? Wait around for the human criminal justice system to function properly?”
“I don’t know about the justice system,” Sailor said, “but I can tell you that there are mortals and every other species working on this case, grieving for those dead women, determined to find their killer. Please don’t do this. Don’t kill four innocents. Even to avoid an all-out war, even if it worked, it’s deplorable. We’ll lose every friend, every scrap of goodwill we ever had.” She was breathing fast, feeling desperate.
“And the Keeper Council, those purveyors of goodwill?” Saoirse said. “What’s your Council doing to bring the killer to justice?”
Sailor looked around at the clear-eyed Elven, and knew that if there was ever a crowd to lie to, this wasn’t it. “Very little. Yet. But I promise you—”
“Thank you,” Dalazar said, interrupting her. “You are earnest, and your passion is evident. But the decision of the tribal leaders has been made. It passed by a slim majority, but it was made with the intention to avoid war.”
“What about the Elven who weren’t here or didn’t vote yes?” Sailor asked. “You don’t speak for them any more than my Council speaks for me.”
Dalazar held up his hand. “The decision’s been made.”
“When does it happen?” Sailor asked.
“It’s taboo to take a hostage on a holy day or for three nights beyond. Tuesday was Beltane. At moonrise tonight we act.”
“Tonight?” Sailor asked, stunned. “Are you saying that unless the killer is found by— What time does the moon rise? Eight o’clock?”
“Three minutes past eight,” Saoirse replied.
Sailor looked around the circle. “At three minutes past eight, you kidnap four people?”
“Unless the killer is found,” Dalazar replied.
Sailor glanced at Alessande. “Then with all due respect, I’m leaving.”
“Keeper,” Saoirse said, “I advise you to keep your mouth shut. No good will come of sounding an alarm. We’ll still get our hostages, but you’ll make enemies of us, and your days as a Keeper will be finished.”
Sailor faced the Rath woman. “I’ve got better things to do than feed the rumor mill.” She turned to Alessande. “Coming?”
Alessande nodded. “Let’s go.”
* * *
“Five hours and thirty-three minutes,” Sailor said, hurrying to Alessande’s car, heedless of the wild rosebushes along the path. “In the time it takes to fly from New York to L.A. this species I’m bound to protect will commit an act of war. How long have you known about this?”
“They decided this morning. I didn’t know they planned to act tonight.”
“I should appeal to my Keeper Council,” Sailor said. “Get them mobilized.”
“No,” Alessande said firmly. “Highsmith won’t stop this, he’ll use it. He’ll declare a state of emergency, then say the Council needs a formal leader, a single voice to negotiate on its behalf.”
“If he can avert this crisis, he can stick a crown on his head and call himself King Charles for all I care.”
“But he won’t avert it. You’re not listening.” Alessande walked faster. “If hostages are taken and he stages a rescue attempt, he’s seen as a strong leader. If the hostages are killed, it’s war, and there are always those who profit from war. Either way, he takes control, and once he has the Council, he’ll never let it go.”
Sailor stopped as they reached the car. “You’re saying Highsmith would throw four innocent people under the bus to instigate a war and profit from it?”
Alessande turned to face her. “Highsmith’s playing a different game than you are. You want to stop this? Find the killer.”
It sounded impossible, but Sailor couldn’t see that they had a choice. “Okay. Catrienne Dumarais,” she said. “Do you know that name? Do you know how to find her? Or any of the Ancients?”
Alessande looked at her curiously. “Yes, I’ve heard the name. No, I don’t know how to find her or her cohorts.”