Cold Reign (Jane Yellowrock #11)(11)
“But what if the Mithrans are here, in the States, but not in port. Maybe they came ashore in Mobile or Charleston or one of the Texas ports, and only a few came to NOLA. All the rest would need to get here is charter a bus, a jet, or a line of limos. They could get here overnight, easy peasy. So a few could be here, and any vamp who has bloodlines or bloodkin here would be forced to offer them shelter, right? Like Grégoire?”
Leo’s expression underwent a series of complex changes. Stating that Grégoire was a potential danger to Leo was like throwing a boulder into a pond when we had just been skipping stones until now. “Grégoire is safe in the Council Chambers,” he said stiffly, all his feathers ruffled. Not that he had feathers. “But . . .” He took a slow breath, the fingers of one hand stroking the cuff at the other wrist, giving himself time to think. “I will move him to rooms adjoining mine. Just in case one of the Capetian line arrives at the Council Chambers unexpectedly.”
I knew who Leo feared the most. Grégoire’s Valois blood-sire. Le Batard was a bastard of royal blood, a pedophile like Berkins. Leo’s lover and Le Batard had a nasty, evil, and complicated relationship. Yeah. Things were coming together. “Would Grégoire know if Le Batard arrived in New Orleans? Would he tell you if Le Batard didn’t want him to? Could Le Batard use mind games to force Grégoire to help him get into vamp HQ?”
Leo shrugged, the gesture still elegant, though his face told of uncertainty in his own judgment and insecurity about his loved ones. “Grégoire and I drank from each other upon rising. I have asked Katie to join us for the duration. It would be far better if my home was ready for habitation.”
“Yeah. I know.” If I sounded sarcastic, it was because Leo’s Certificate of Occupancy had been requested and denied twice, each time for some minor offense after Leo had tried to bribe his way into getting the CO early. That bribery attempt had resulted in one complication after another. Now the house sat empty and Leo was stuck in HQ. Which meant that he’d have to put two hundred people up in some hotel. Royal progress as punishment. He’d be bankrupt in no time keeping them satisfied.
“Would they go through the proper channels?” Eli asked. “Would they have passports or visas? Or are they likely to sneak in?”
“They’re royalty,” I volunteered, thinking it through. “Modern law means nothing to them. Homeland Security, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, trying to control Mithrans who ruled the world before the Western Hemisphere was ever discovered by Europeans? They’d blow raspberries at the idea of being forced to follow modern laws.”
“Raspberries?” Leo asked.
I blew a mouth fart. Leo laughed, looking delighted. “Excellent. Please tell me you will do that when the Europeans arrive.”
“To their faces,” I agreed.
“It is unlikely that they would feel obliged to follow laws of any kind,” Leo said. “See how far my Jane has come. She thinks in terms of royalty now. My Enforcer,” he amended before I could complain, lifting a palm in a gesture for peace.
Faker. “So if they sailed from France,” I said, “aboard an unknown boat, and got off at an unknown port, on an unknown date, then they could be anywhere.”
“But not in the city in any numbers,” Leo said.
“Right. I’ve got some maritime people I can talk to,” Eli said, “without going to the authorities. Yet.”
“And when it reaches the point where we need the authorities?” I asked.
“Homeland Security, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, and multiple branches of the U.S. military can be at the dock on the Mississippi River in no time, to stop them from coming ashore,” Eli said, satisfaction edging his voice, as if he was looking forward to a battle: U.S. government lawyers, law enforcement officials in suits, and uniformed military with things that go bang, versus royal, self-important suckheads. Since Eli was more a boots-on-the-ground kinda warrior, I knew who he was rooting for in that contest. Guns blazing all the way.
“Excellent,” Leo said, drawing conclusions even faster than Eli and I. “Should that occurrence appear to become likely, I’ll see that the lovely Carolyne has prior notice.”
“Carolyne?” I asked.
“The reporter from the news channel. I found her delightful.”
I sighed. Leo’s sex drive was over the moon, but then, all vamps had supercharged libidos. “I have one more question,” I said. “The vamps who rose as revenants. How did they get from Europe to New Orleans originally, during their undead unlives?”
“They escaped the French court and came to the Americas, where they swore to Amaury Pellissier. My uncle.”
“That same uncle who pinned the Son of Darkness to the basement wall? The Son of Darkness who turned Hugh Capet and the dynasty that included Louis le Jeune and Le Batard? In the French court?” I clarified.
“Indeed,” Leo said, pouring himself more champagne. “It is a complicated situation. Tiresome in the extreme.”
“Tiresome. Yeah. That’s the word I’d have used too,” I said, thinking of the dead sailors.
Leo totally missed the sarcasm. “With my people, there is always a threat of armed conflict, of battle in the streets,” he said, unperturbed. “You will prepare for that eventuality. I shall address the political aspect. And we shall meet again to discuss potentialities.”