I hoped that my trust in him would not be the death of me.

Sig’s smile faded when he moved the meeting along. “You know the reason we’ve brought you here this evening, yes?”

“I made an unsanctioned kill in Central Park last night.” I knew better than to explain the details of the slaying without being asked. If they wanted to know something specific, they bring it up. Any other information did not matter.

When you’ve been asking people questions for centuries, you learn to get the information you need with as little effort possible.

“Do you feel the slaying was justified?” Daria probed.

“I do.”

“Were you in immediate danger?”

“Myself and a human female.”

“Yes, a human female who was allowed to escape. She is telling the human media all about a woman who saved her from a vampire,” Juan Carlos interjected.

Sig raised a hand to silence him but remained reclined in the chair.

“I don’t believe the media found her very credible,” I offered.

“Need we reminisce over the subway incident, Secret? The media had plenty of sources that seemed very reliable indeed in that situation.” Sig spoke the words Juan Carlos was surely thinking.

I stiffened, a chill sweeping through my whole body. If Sig was bringing up the subway-platform incident, I was in serious trouble. It was in my best interests to remain silent until one of them asked me another question.

“Holden has given us some of the details of your report, and we confess we are curious.” This from Daria, who had her porcelain-doll face rested on a manicured hand. “Please tell us the story.”

I relayed, with as much brevity as possible, the events of the previous evening, leading up to the slaying of Henry Davies and the bite marks I associated with Alexandre Peyton.

The Tribunal, even Juan Carlos, looked pensive upon completion of the story. Sig sat upright in his chair, crossing his leg at the knee and leaning forward as though to get a better view of me.

“You are absolutely certain?”

“I am.”

“We discussed what to do about this matter prior to your arrival, and as is often the case with you, Miss McQueen, the Tribunal was not unanimous. Both Daria and I agreed we will overlook the events of last night. Juan Carlos, as usual, wanted to eat you.”

My gaze darted to Juan Carlos and I paled. The three of them began to laugh heartily, as though Sig had just given the punch line to the funniest joke they’d ever heard. I would never understand vampire humor.

Sig continued, “In light of the development you’ve presented, however, we will need to alter the arrangement somewhat.”

“Meaning?” I knew this would sound indignant, and sure enough, anger flared in Juan Carlos’s eyes. Sig gave me a shrewd smile.

“We have a new job for you, my delicate flower.” He and Daria exchanged a loaded glance. “You will find Peyton and you will bring him to us.”

To the Tribunal, this directive meant bringing them a steaming pile of ashes that had once been one of their undead brethren. Bounty hunter may have been my official title, but none of the targets they’d sent me after returned in anything larger than a coffee tin. They expected me to kill one of the nastiest and most challenging vampires I’d ever faced? Did they honestly think he’d be like any other target? Killing Alexandre Peyton was going to be next to impossible.

“Oh, and, Secret?” Sig interrupted my internal diatribe.

“Yes?”

“We would very much like him alive.”

Chapter Fourteen

Before I could register what the Tribunal had told me, I was back in the hall with Holden and we were winding our way back up the mile of wet stairs, my feet making the motions automatically. He must have seen the shock on my face or the stumbling way in which I was taking the steps, because his unwavering frown had deepened to a look of concern.

“Secret? What did they say?”

“Peyton,” I muttered, and stopped walking to lean my face against the cold wall. The rough brick against my cheek lured me back to reality.

“I don’t understand.”

“They want me to bring them Peyton. Alive.”

His eyebrows shot up and I almost chuckled. It’s so rare for a vampire to be surprised by anything, it’s a treat to be the cause of one of those alarmed looks. Unfortunately I couldn’t really enjoy it at the moment.

“Why didn’t they just kill you?”

This time I did chuckle. “And get their precious hands dirty? Isn’t it so much easier to send me to a certain death? This way they aren’t the ones who killed me, but they don’t have to deal with me anymore. Juan Carlos will be thrilled.”

“Yes.” We began to walk again. If you’re looking for comfort, a vampire didn’t have the best shoulder to lean on. The only kind they could offer was a cold one. “But certainly Sig doesn’t want to see you die?”

Both Holden and I were aware of Sig’s special interest in me, though neither of us knew what it meant, and Holden really didn’t like it.

“Maybe he thinks I can do it.” I wasn’t sure I believed that, but it was a pleasant thought, so I held on to it.

We didn’t speak again until we were back out on the dark New York sidewalk.

“Do you think you’re capable of bringing him in?” A nice vote of confidence from my vampire liaison. But he had reason to be doubtful. I certainly was.

I sighed. “I don’t know.”

We had arrived at a busier street and were standing in front of an upscale SoHo boutique shop. It became difficult to continue our conversation with all the modelesque Barbies carrying out their shopping bags turning to get an eyeful of Holden. I also had somewhere to be, and as luck would have it we were only a few blocks from Rain Hotel.

“Can we discuss this later? You need to, uh, feed?” I nodded at a healthy-looking brunette who had walked past us and none-too-subtly winked at him. “And I kind of have a date.” I paused. “Maybe. I think?”

“With the wolf king?”

I drew to an abrupt halt in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a meaty wall of a man to walk directly into me. He skirted around me muttering something about stupid women, but my focus was on Holden, fire blazing in my eyes.

“You were following me last night?”

“After I got your message. Yes.”

“And you didn’t think to, oh, I don’t know, help me out when some strangers threw me into a car?”

“They were only werewolves. You were fine,” he said dismissively.

I snarled at him, and it was so inhuman a sound there was no doubt at all which half of me made the noise. Holden stiffened and took a step back. His face flashed with unease to hear something so animal coming from me.

“I’m not your bodyguard, I’m your liaison, and sometimes I think I am your friend. But don’t pretend you wouldn’t have been angry with me for rescuing you like some misguided white knight. As you are very fond of pointing out, you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. I did not believe you to be in any danger and I was right.” He gestured to me to indicate I was alive and as well as could be expected.

We glared at each other in the middle of the sidewalk. Just another Manhattan lovers’ spat as far as the people filtering around us could tell. If I had a dollar for every time Holden and I looked like a dysfunctional couple, I could buy a nicer apartment.

After a long silence and obviously feeling he needed to speak first, he tested the waters with an apology. “I’m sorry?” It sounded more like a question, and I doubted his sincerity.

“Fine. Whatever.” I waved a hand at him and walked away in the direction of the hotel.

He did not follow.

I was glad I’d worn something at least moderately dressy to meet the Tribunal, but I regretted not bringing a purse, heels or anything a normal girl would have with her for a date. Would Lucas think I was slighting him because I was wearing jeans and flats?

I reminded myself that when he’d first met me I had been significantly more dressed down than this. I also decided that if we really were soul mates, he was going to have to accept that I wasn’t the ball-gown-and-stiletto kind of princess he might have had in mind.

A princess, me. Man that was a lot to wrap my head around. Maybe I should have told Holden I was werewolf royalty. Hell, maybe I should have told the council. Oh hey, Sig, I know you want to send me to certain death, but just so you know, I’m half werewolf and a princess at that, so show a little respect.

Right, that would go over brilliantly.

I took the opportunity of being alone to have a good look at the lobby of Lucas’s hotel. From the main foyer two hallways extended in either direction, one leading to a world-class spa, the other to a sushi restaurant. In the center of the lobby was an intricately sculpted crystal chandelier that looked to weigh several hundred pounds. To each side of it was a matching smoky-quartz chandelier, and beyond those, towards the end of each hallway, obsidian mates rounded out the tri-colored set.

The interior walls glistened like they were alive, lights from the chandeliers dancing on the moving surface of the cascading waterfalls that poured over black marble. At equal intervals down each hall were pedestals with large bouquets of exotic, fragrant flowers. In a corner, hidden from view, someone was playing a harp. Everything was alluring to the senses, and I breathed it all in, letting it soothe my rattled nerves before I walked up to the front desk.

My new Zen state was obliterated when I caught the attention of the desk clerk and asked to visit Mr. Rain in the penthouse. He took one look at my jeans and ponytail and his frown set so deep Grandmere would have warned him a bird might poop on his lip.

“And who are you?” he inquired, condescension dripping from every word. He smelled like a were but not a wolf. There was something weaselly about him in both scent and demeanor.

What to say? That I was Lucas’s date, his soul mate? Dinner?

“My name is Secret McQueen.”