Chapter 9

When I came back to corporeality, turning everything else within my mist as well, that's when I learned just what those shafts had done. Davan was already dead and Heathe nearly so.

"No!" I shouted, struggling to get to Heathe before the last spark of life was gone. Cleo, healer that she was, got there ahead of me and nearly landed on top of Heathe, glowing like the sun. Davan was turning to ash as I knelt next to him and wept.

* * *

Sixteen piles of vampire ash—that's what we found behind houses—six behind Geratt's manor alone. Garde and Aryn had shown up quickly; I was staring at Geratt as he sat at a table at City Hall, looking guilty as hell. Rigo had the other Council members off to the side—he'd placed a compulsion to end all compulsions, I think, and he was glaring at all of them. I pitied any one of them who might be involved in this.

Davan had been my uncle. Had been. We'd only known each other for a short time. He'd been so good—so grateful, even—for the job he'd been given, and the place he had at the palace. I wanted to cry again over his loss, along with so many other things. Roff stood beside me, a hand stroking my jaw and neck carefully as he watched Garde question Geratt after Aryn placed compulsion.

"Tell me everything you know of this attack." Garde was blowing a lot of smoke. If his smaller Thifilathi came, we'd all have to leave and I figured Geratt would be dead quickly.

"They assured me it would be clean and swift," Geratt whined.

Where did you think you would hide afterward?" Aryn asked.

"I was promised transport back to Brisdan, if it appeared I might be implicated."

"How much?" Erland and Wylend were still there, and Erland now had Geratt's shirt gripped in his fist. "How much did they promise you for this? Because I can assure you, they meant for you to die here so they could keep the money for themselves. Only Lissa's quick thinking saved your sorry hide from those arrows, which killed her uncle, by the way."

Garde was still blowing smoke, but seemed content to have the Warlock do some threatening. Thurlow was at the back of the room, watching everything and everybody. We learned that three humanoids had hired Geratt and twenty vampires to kill me, for half the fifty million promised by Black Mist. Three vampires had escaped and the humanoid masterminds were staying somewhere in Casino City, waiting to pay Geratt for my assassination.

Cleo had taken Heathe and Grant back to the palace; Heath had been really shaky but alive when she'd folded them away. I figured he'd be getting plenty of blood substitute the minute he got back. I looked up at Roff.

"Lissa, I am sorry," he leaned down and kissed me gently, wiping the stubborn tears away afterward.

"Me, too, honey," I put an arm around his waist and buried my head against his shoulder.

* * *

"I see them." Rigo spoke quietly to Aryn, Garde, Thurlow and Erland. Three men were gambling at a table nearby. Geratt had given names and descriptions. The names were assumed, but it was easy enough to fit the descriptions to the accents Geratt provided. It was a simple matter afterward to track down where they were gambling. A vampire pit crew manned the craps table, and they knew not to say anything when Erland and Garde walked up.

"Please, come with us," Erland smiled pleasantly at the three. When one tried to bolt, Rigo had a hand on his shoulder and claws digging in. He came along quietly after that. A room was provided by casino management for questioning—the owner knew Erland well. He also knew better than to interfere.

"Now, you will tell us everything," Aryn placed compulsion. The three gulped and nodded.

* * *

"Will you tell Griffin?" Wylend was saying good-bye, so I asked him to pass the news of Davan's death along—Davan was his brother, after all. Yes, I knew what Griffin had done. To me and to Roff. I had no idea whether there was a way to restore Roff's memories completely or if their restoration would only cause further grief at this point. Roff had come to me somehow, whether he remembered or not. I was still trying to decide if I wished to speak to my natural father from now on. I did have one other request, however.

"Tell him I'd like Roff's ring back," I added. That caused Wylend's eyebrows to lift a little. "Don't pretend you don't know, Em-pah," I sighed. I was tired. I'd just lost another person I cared about and wondered if I had any male family members left who truly loved me. I think Kyler and Cleo might be in my corner most of the time, but I didn't know where they stood on Griffin or if they even knew what he'd done to keep Wyatt away from the Green Fae.

"Granddaughter, I didn't know until it was over," Wylend said. "And I'd like to brush that tear away, but I don't think you'd let me touch you right now."

"I don't know that I'll let any male relative touch me again," I said and turned away.

* * *

"You know about Davan." Wylend studied his son's face—Griffin had been waiting for him when he arrived on Karathia.

"Yes. This is going to hurt Jeral."

"It hurt your daughter. She knows, Brenten. She wants you to give Roff's ring back."

"I was afraid to Look," Griffin nodded, refusing to meet Wylend's gaze.

"Child, I hope you are done harming her emotionally," Wylend went on. "I would like to repair what little relationship I have with her."

"I thought I was done harming her," Griffin said. "Until Wyatt came along, causing things to shift."

"Do you love her at all?"

"She does not love me."

"That is not the question I asked. Or has your son taken up all the love you might have for a child, now, and Lissa has become disposable?"

"Lissa shouldn't have been disposable," Griffin replied. "But her stepfather made her distrustful of any father figure. I had an uphill climb with her, every step of the way."

"And when you set her down in front of thousands of Ra'Ak and told her people would die if she didn't do something about it, that didn't improve things, did it? Especially since you'd admitted to her that she'd been the answer to the problems you were seeing and that you deliberately went looking for her mother, merely to produce the solution to those problems. That makes any child thankful for their life." Wylend didn't employ sarcasm often, but he used it now. "Child, look at me and tell me that you would still speak to me if I'd used you so grievously," Wylend tilted Griffin's face up with a finger.

"I wouldn't. I wouldn't forgive you, either."

"I know."

* * *

Kiarra had come with her three mates—Merrill, Adam and Pheligar stood with her. My two Larentii were there as well when I explained to Jeral, as best I could, what happened to Davan.

"At least I know you loved him," Jeral wiped his eyes. I was crying, too, and Roff was beside me, offering tissues.

"I did." I almost didn't get the words out; my voice broke. Cleo had to put Grant under and Heathe was sleeping, too. Davan had become such friends with both of them that I didn't know how they were going to deal with his death. "We can do a memorial in a day or two, if you want."

"I would like that," Jeral sighed. Davan was his brother, in addition to being his youngest vampire child.

"Jeral, come with us," Kiarra was urging him away; I was about to break down completely. Roff, Connegar, Reemagar and I left my study and Gavin, Tony, Drake and Drew were waiting outside. Karzac folded in as soon as we reached my suite.

"I will stay with Lissa," Roff announced as Karzac came toward me, fingers heading toward my forehead.

"Nice to see you, too, honey," I said before he touched me and I was out like a light.

* * *

"Get her undressed and put her to bed," Karzac ordered. Gavin was holding her up; she'd collapsed when Karzac placed the healing sleep.

"We will assist Roff; the others here need sleep, they are weary from killing spawn," Reemagar said. Connegar herded everyone else from the bedroom—they'd cleared quite a bit of spawn from a planet light-years away and were exhausted. The news of Davan's death hadn't helped, or the fact that Lissa had been attacked while they were away.

* * *

"I am required to notify the Alliance that we're holding them," Thurlow said, as the three men were locked inside the palace dungeons. They'd admitted under compulsion that they'd planned to take the Queen down, only they'd hired others to do it for them. Vampires seemed to be the logical choice, and they'd offered half of Black Mist's reward for evidence of the Queen's death.

They thought their plan couldn't fail. They'd hidden their tracks (or so they'd thought), and meant to collect the entire reward after their hired vampires killed the Queen. They'd counted on the Queen's guards tracking and killing the vampires involved afterward, never suspecting that a single vampire might live over it.

Geratt was in a cell separated from the others, so they couldn't reach or speak with one another. Geratt wore the cuffs to contain a vampire. Cell bars did well enough for the others.

"Do what you have to do, Thurlow, but remember these have conspired to kill the Queen. We won't be sending these back to the Alliance. This justice is ours," Garde snorted as he glared at the three humanoids.

"As the law allows," Thurlow agreed. A lesser crime would have sent the perpetrators home to their own world's justice. Murder or conspiracy to commit murder allowed the world on which the crime was committed to pass sentence.

"What are we going to do about the three vampires who are missing?" Rigo asked. They'd learned from Geratt that he'd hired nineteen vampires for the attack on Lissa. Only sixteen were accounted for.

"We'll send someone out," Garde said. "Trevor, perhaps, and a crew of handpicked vampires."

"Is Lissa still awake?" Garde asked. They'd left the dungeon behind and now walked through a side door leading into the palace, after Garde entered a security code on the keypad outside. Two vampire guards inside the door nodded them through—they were recognized.