Blood Gamble Page 38
“They hate their own kind,” I whispered. “They want to wipe out vampires, and they’re using Jameson to do it.”
What I really wanted in that moment was for Dashiell to laugh at me. I wanted him to come up with an easy explanation for all this that would make me feel like an idiot. I wanted him to be snide and condescending. I wanted to feel guilty for ever suspecting Jameson in the first place.
But life doesn’t really work like that, not when you want it to. Instead, what Dashiell said was, “I’m sorry, Scarlett, but I think you’re correct. It’s the only way this whole mess makes sense.”
Fuck.
I collapsed onto the couch, unable to speak. I kept the phone pressed to my ear, but I dropped my head into my free hand, squeezing my eyes shut so I didn’t have to look at Wyatt, or anything else. Dashiell, to his credit, was silent, giving me the moment I needed.
If I started looking at the situation knowing that the Holmwoods wanted to kill as many vampires as possible, so many things suddenly made sense. In Europe, they had traveled from town to town, killing a few vampires here and there, where they were sure they wouldn’t blow their cover. Vampires were notoriously hard to kill, after all, and if the Holmwoods were only in town for a few days, a handful was probably the best they could do.
Eventually, however, that would get frustrating. They would want to go bigger. Like setting up shop in a touristy city and getting the vampires to come to them. By putting on a big splashy show, the Holmwoods made sure that vampires from all over North America would make the pilgrimage to Vegas. And if they never came home again, well, who would be the wiser? Any cardinal vampires who noticed would assume that those vampires had just decided to stay in Vegas. This town was, after all, vampire heaven.
It was a great way for the Holmwoods to take out lots of vampires, but one thing could make it even better: having a null to help you do the dirty work. A null could reduce the vampire victims to human again, making them very easy to kill.
Arthur and Lucy must have asked around until they learned of the most disgruntled null on the planet: the one who worked for a controlling, sadistic bully. What had Jameson said to me? I trust how much they want what they’re doing here, and that they need me to do it. No wonder he was sure that Lucy and Arthur would protect him. He was a big part of their extermination plan.
“It’s one big trap,” I murmured. “Lure vampires to Vegas, sic Jameson on them, and kill them at your leisure.” I should have seen it.
“Indeed,” Dashiell said gravely. “They’ve killed relatively few so far, but Demeter has only been open for a week, not quite long enough for vampires to make the voyage to Las Vegas. The longer the show goes on, the more vampires will arrive to see it, and the more of them will fall victim.”
“But they can’t get away with it forever,” I protested. “Eventually some cardinal vampire somewhere would notice . . . right?”
“It depends on how much care they took. If you hadn’t traveled to Las Vegas and made inquiries, the Holmwoods could likely have spent years massacring vampires before anyone noticed.”
“And they’ve got Silvio to hide behind,” I realized. Anyone who tried to punish the Holmwoods in the Las Vegas territory would need to go through the cardinal vampire first, and he was a big enough dick to call and warn them.
“I want you to come home,” Dashiell declared.
“What?” I forced myself back to the conversation. “Why? What will you do?”
Brief pause. “I’m . . . not sure.” That might have been the first time I’d ever heard uncertainty in his voice. “If there was still a vampire council I would go to them, but our highest court was dismantled centuries ago. I will probably have to declare war on the Las Vegas territory, and attack them myself.”
“Wait, you mean like, yourself yourself? In person?” As powerful as he was, Dashiell rarely left Pasadena, let alone the state. You don’t send the president to the front lines; it’s just too risky.
“Yes,” he said grimly. “I’ll have to. The only course I can see would be to defeat Silvio—which shouldn’t be terribly hard, if what you’re saying is true—take the city, and try Arthur and Lucy for crimes against vampires. At that point I will need to dispatch them.”
My head was spinning. I slipped off the edge of the couch, onto the floor, where I could lean my back against something firm. “And Jameson?”
“Him too, I’m afraid,” Dashiell said. He had the grace to be somber about it. “If you’re right, he has been, at the very least, an accessory to the murder of forty vampires. He needs to die. Or at least be handed over to his old master for punishment.”
“You would give him to Malcolm?” I echoed. “You can’t do that. If Malcolm knows what Jameson has done—”
“Jameson was Malcolm’s responsibility,” Dashiell said flatly. There was no room in his tone for arguing. “And I suspect that Malcolm already knows. That is why he sent his own team of skinners to kill the null.”
Ohhhhh. God, the hits just kept on coming. I’d wondered why the skinners had come after Jameson with the intention of killing him; this explained it. Malcolm wouldn’t want Jameson to be able to point a finger of blame at him, or tell anyone Malcolm’s secrets in exchange for leniency. Jameson was a liability as long as he was alive. If he were dead, though, Malcolm would bear no responsibility for this mess.
“This isn’t Jameson’s fault,” I whispered. “What Malcolm did to him . . .”
“Jameson is an adult now. He made his choices, Scarlett,” Dashiell said, not unkindly. “He has to answer for them.”
I sat up. Wyatt had moved around the room into my eyeline and was giving me a desperate what’s going on look. I shook my head at him, scrubbing at my eyes with the back of my hand. Dashiell was right, of course. Jameson wasn’t innocent in this. Jameson had turned vampires human and then murdered them, or stood by while the Holmwoods murdered them. He’d lied to me, and then taken me to bed. I should have been happy to hand him over to Dashiell or Malcolm for punishment . . . but that just wasn’t what my heart was telling me. Despite everything, I still wanted to save him.
Jesse’s words came back to me. You are the champion of all the people who fall through those cracks. I had saved Molly. Why couldn’t I save Jameson, too?
Then a terrible new thought struck me. “Dashiell,” I said, “if you come to Vegas and attack Silvio first, won’t that give the Holmwoods a chance to run?”
Wyatt’s jaw clenched with anger. On the phone, there was the briefest pause, and then Dashiell said, “It’s likely, yes. But I have no authority to come after the Holmwoods unless they’re in my territory. At the very least, this will shut down Demeter and stop the immediate killings. If I can get the word out, it may also force the Holmwoods into hiding.”
“But then they won’t answer for their crimes,” I reasoned, thinking of Ellen. Wyatt, who could only hear my side of the conversation, started shaking his head vehemently. He was used to having super hearing, which would make this particularly frustrating. I held up a hand, gesturing again for him to wait.
I felt so conflicted. I didn’t want the Holmwoods to get away with murder . . . but at the same time, maybe they would take Jameson with them, and he’d be safe.
As if he could hear me, Dashiell added, “Malcolm won’t stop hunting Jameson until he’s dead. Even if he escapes with the Holmwoods, Malcolm’s skinners will track them down eventually.”
“So not only would the Holmwoods have a chance to escape, but you would have to leave LA,” I concluded. “The city would be vulnerable. And you would be vulnerable, coming here with Jameson running around. No offense, Dashiell, but your plan is crap.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened—probably he hadn’t heard a lot of people talk to a cardinal vampire like that, but I didn’t care. We needed Dashiell in LA. He and I didn’t always see eye to eye—okay, we rarely saw eye to eye on anything—but if we lost him, I doubted that Will, Kirsten, and whatever much weaker vampire replaced Dashiell would be able to hold the city for long. And that was assuming the next vampire who stepped up was even willing to work with Will and Kirsten. Not everyone agreed with Dashiell’s ideas about sharing power.