“So the fuck what?” Hawk fired back at Benedict from where he sat sprawled at the table in one of the massive chairs, flipping one of his daggers end-over-end.
The door shut behind us, and we each took a seat at the table. It wasn’t round. I wasn’t King Arthur. Fuck that. I was in charge, and everyone in this room knew it.
“Has the wolf been dealt with?” I asked Hawke.
“Justice has been served,” he confirmed with a wicked grin and dead eyes. For the rest of us, dispensing the justice of the immortal world was a sworn, sacred duty. For Hawke…well, he got off on it.
“I’ll let Luka know.” The king of the lycans had agreed with my judgment against his subject, which definitely took the awkwardness out of the impending call.
Death was the penalty for any crime against a female or a child. Period. There was no excuse for the abuse of the fairer sex, and children were far too precious—too rare to ever suffer.
“That leaves the demon issue for tonight if you want this month’s sentences carried out before Avianna gets home tomorrow. You also have a request from the Witch Queen for a private audience,” Benedict said, filling the monitors with the faces of the lower-level demons who had been sentenced to torture for slander against their king. Sedition was still a punishable offense under their law.
“Xavier can handle his own. We’re Assassins, not bounty hunters. Lachlan, check in with him tonight and make sure he’s in control of the situation.” I leaned back in my chair. “What the fuck does Genevieve want with a private audience? Any business she has can be discussed at the monthly gathering of Conclave, like always.”
“So that’s a no?” Benedict asked, raising his eyebrows.
“That’s a fuck no. Granting private audiences is what leads to everything going to shit. We’ve worked too hard to keep the Covenant to let it crumble now.” Keeping all five species— humans, lycans, witches, demons, and vampires—living in relative peace took a delicate balance of secrecy and transparency within the Conclave. It made human politics look like child’s play.
“Okay, then I think all we have is the security detail for Avianna’s arrival tomorrow,” Lachlan said, leaning forward to brace his forearms on the table at my right.
I slid my phone free of my back pocket with a smile and called my little sister. “I’ll just make sure she’s on track,” I said to the group while it rang.
It…rang.
It didn’t beep like it always had, signaling that my sweet, beautiful, kind, honest sister wasn’t overseas, tucked away with our aunt like she was supposed to be until tomorrow night.
“Alek?” she answered breathlessly.
“Where the hell are you?” I snapped.
“Oh, Alek, don’t be mad!” She gave me a little sigh, and I could almost see her soft, pleading little smile. “I just wanted to see what it was like here, you know? I mean, you talk about it all the time, and I knew as soon as you showed up with your armored car and band of merry men—”
“I’m not Robin Hood, and that armored car is for your safety!” I shouted. “Tell me where you are, Avianna. Right now.” I focused on the sounds coming through the phone. Birds. Crickets. Humans speaking English. My heart pounded and my stomach churned at the danger she was in. The borders between boroughs were clearly drawn, and if she’d stumbled into another territory, I couldn’t guarantee her safety unless she was wearing an “Alek is my brother so don’t fuck with me” T-shirt.
“I’m in the park father mentioned in his journals. Briarwood. The one across from the—”
“Slatemark Opera House,” I growled. She was near the heart of the city—where all the territories intersected, but she wasn’t in our sector. “Damn it, Avi, you’re in Demon territory.” I shoved back from the table and stood, my men instantly following.
“I’ll get the car.” Benedict didn’t wait for me to approve. He ran, disappearing from sight before the door closed. Every man in this room was tasked with protecting the royal family. They knew the multitude of powers in my blood. They also knew that Avi didn’t possess any beyond her considerable beauty and the compulsion ability all vampires shared.
She couldn’t even wend—couldn’t shift herself through space, and couldn’t stand anyone —even me—controlling her for the moments it took to use our easiest mode of transportation, which meant we needed the car. Too many of Avianna’s choices had