A Bloody Good Secret: Secret McQueen, Book 2 (17 page)

When we were almost at the bottom of the iron staircase, Nolan had his first meltdown. I was impressed he’d held it until then, so I let him have it.

“Whatswrongwithyoureyes? Whatsawarden? Whydidsheletyouin? And what the
fuck
do you mean, I’m
yours
?” He had the common sense not to raise his voice above a tense whisper.

I grabbed him by the chin, and we stopped our descent.

“What I’m about to tell you does
not
leave this building, do you understand?” His eyes grew wide with fear, but he nodded. “I don’t just work for Keats. I report directly to the vampire council.”

His pulse quickened even as color began to drain from his face. He tried to pull away, but I was stronger. That seemed to scare him as much, if not more, than my proclamation.

“I am still the same vampire-slaying, demon-hunting girl you had so much respect for back at the bar. I’m just not a vigilante.”

“But you’re one of ’em,” he choked out.

“I will
never
be one of them. That much you can be certain of.” There was a hint of regret in my voice, but I doubted he would be able to contextualize it. I dropped my hand away from his face. “I told them you’re mine because under council law it means no other vampire can touch you. It means you’re protected.”

“Is it permanent?”

I wasn’t expecting that, as far as questions went. “Unless another vampire petitions me for you, you will always be mine. At least in the eyes of the council.” Honesty. It felt nice to not lie to him.

He nodded tightly and began to descend on his own. “I guess if I have to belong to someone, it may as well be a tight little blonde.”

At the bottom of the stairs we passed through a heavy curtain and into the darkened grand ballroom. The ceiling swelled thirty feet up, with old tin-roof tiles polished to reflect the candle-lit sconces, which were the only light in the room. Red beads were draped on the walls and over other objects, giving the illusion of bejeweled blood splashes.

Individual chambers lined the walls, each three steps off the main floor, with curtains to give privacy to those who dwelled within. Somewhere inside one of those booths was someone with the answers I needed.

“Stay close, and for the love of God, whatever happens, just go with it.” I placed a hand on the back of his neck, which looked quite peculiar given how much taller he was, but I needed to show everyone he belonged to me.

There were about thirty vampires in the room, and perhaps forty humans. It was impossible to tell if the breathers were daytime servants or enthralled evening snacks. Telling the vampires from the humans was easy enough, though.

What surprised me was that the girl behind the bar was not among the former.

I steered Nolan up to the long black bar that had all the fixings of a normal, human bar, but would be serving something a little bloodier as well. The girl turned her attention to us. She appeared to be a few years older than me, but if I was guessing her age from her eyes, I’d say she was decades older than her body claimed. Her skin was a flawless brown color, like rich chocolate. Her hair was cut short, but instead of making her look boyish, it showed off her incredible face. She had big round eyes with sleepy lids, and a full mouth that wasn’t smiling.

She looked at my hand on Nolan’s neck, then ignored him and focused on me. This girl understood the system. Nolan was chattel and I was the master.

“What can I get you?” she asked. Her nod was curt, and she stared right in between my eyes like Nolan had when we’d first met. Smart, this one.

“AB.”

“Pos or Neg?”

Nolan choked back a noise that might have screwed us totally. Instead it sounded like a burp.

“Surprise me.”

“And for your pet?” She inspected Nolan admiringly, then turned back to me. He
was
easy on the eyes.

“I—” he began, before I squeezed his neck and he quieted.

“He’ll have a Coke. And can I leave him here for a second?”

She glanced at him again as she filled a martini glass with a dark red liquid and handed it to me. I couldn’t tell where she’d poured it from, but when I felt that it was warm, I decided I was better off not knowing. She cracked open a can of Coke and placed it on the bar, along with a glass of ice and a cocktail napkin.

“He gonna be trouble?” Her head tipped to the side, and she stared at him like he couldn’t hear her. I had to wonder what kind of a state people were usually in when they came here.

I sipped the blood out of the martini glass and waited for Nolan to look at me. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity until he nodded and sat on the stool nearest to us.

“No,” he told her. “No trouble.”

The bartender seemed surprised to hear him speak but left it alone.

“I’m looking for someone,” I confided to the girl.

“What kind of someone?” She leaned her hip against the prep counter behind the bar and crossed her arms over her chest. She had a lot of spirit for a human working in a vampire bar.

“Someone who knows things.” This was where my plan got a little hazy. I hadn’t expected to get so far without resorting to bloodshed. Since I wasn’t sure who I was here for or what I needed to ask them, I didn’t know how to be more specific.

But vampires love their vagaries, and the bartender was no stranger to this. Speaking to some vampires was like playing a frustrating version of charades, and this girl played the game like a pro. She pointed to a lone booth at the end of the room whose curtains were drawn.

I thanked her, placed a twenty on the bar and rubbed Nolan’s shoulder as I passed. “I’m coming back,” I promised.

I hoped I wasn’t lying to him.

Chapter Twenty

There was no way to knock and no guard to announce me, so I cleared my throat loudly as I parted the curtains and stepped into the booth. I was so taken aback by what I saw I almost tripped and fell backwards down the steps.

A spectacular-looking redhead, her hair straight instead of the halo of curls I remembered it being last, was nestled up to an equally striking brunette. The picture they painted was so intimate it made me blush.

“G-Genevieve?” I stammered.

The redhead opened her big violet eyes and grinned at me a little lasciviously. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” she purred.

Genevieve Renard was the absolute last person I would have expected to find in the booth. She was a were-ocelot. Their queen, in fact, and no one would doubt her royal claim if they looked at her. Genevieve was just about the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

But that was before I’d seen the woman she was with.

Righting herself from the embrace of the feline queen, the other woman glanced up at me, her eyes the sleek black of a vampire longing to feed. Her hair was so dark it was the color of charcoal, and her skin had probably been its current shade of ivory when she was human. Her features were dainty, and everything from her makeup to her clothes screamed sophistication.
She
was the one I was here for.

“Secret,” Genevieve cooed. “Do you know Rebecca?”

I shook my head, still not quite able to form words.

Even with both of them fully clothed, I felt like I was interrupting something very personal. And judging by the miffed expression on Rebecca’s face, I wasn’t wrong. Genevieve pressed against the vampire, brushing her nose up Rebecca’s neck and nibbling playfully at her ear.

“Say hello,” the ocelot queen instructed. I didn’t know which one of us she was speaking to, but it couldn’t hurt to assume it was me.

“Hello,” I said to Rebecca.

“
Bonjour
,” the vampire replied, her French accent evident in every syllable.

I was always intrigued by vampires with accents. Some, like Rebecca here and the Southern belle upstairs, maintained the accents they’d had in their human lives. Others, like Holden, seemed more suited to adapt to the new world they lived in. Though he’d been born in England, he’d been in America for over a hundred years, and I rarely heard him say anything that hinted at his history. It must have been a decision for them, to adapt or to keep that part of their human life.

Rebecca had clearly decided to stay French.

“I’ll leave you two,” Genevieve said, placing a kiss on the vampire’s mouth before rising to her feet. As usual, she wore sky-high heels. Her dress was simple and red and shouted
dangerous curves ahead
. She stood next to me and kissed each of my cheeks, then pouted a little. “Trouble in paradise?”

“
What?
” I gaped at her.

“You smelled like dessert last time I was with you, love. Now you smell like stale candy.” She patted my face fondly.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t let those wolves bowl you over, Secret. You’re the prize, not the property.” She grasped the curtain and moved to step out, but I grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“What are you doing here, Genevieve?”

She smiled at me and held both hands in the air, her fingers dancing like the light in her eyes. “Fingers in pies, Miss McQueen. Fingers in pies.” She winked at her paramour and then was gone, leaving me alone with the mysterious French vampire.

I sipped my drink again, gulping in spite of myself, and stood in the doorway, waiting for Rebecca to speak.

“Well then,
belle
,
asseyez-vous
.” She nodded to the plush couch that wrapped in a U shape around the entirety of the booth.

I sat a little farther away than I normally might, but she was still black-eyed and I’d forced her playmate to leave for the night. I was playing it safe. I finished off my drink and placed the empty glass on the small table, its film of blood glinting in the candlelight. I stared at the glass so I didn’t have to look at her.

“I may have all night,
Mademoiselle
McQueen, but I’d prefer we pretend I do not and let us get on with it, shall we?”

“Are you with the council?” I asked.

“
Oui
. I am a council elder.” She inspected her manicure and radiated perfect vampiric boredom.

“Then you know about Holden Chancery’s warrant.”

She smiled, although I wasn’t sure I liked it, given the context. “Oh you clever little girl. Did Sig send you?”

“No.” My voice wavered slightly. He hadn’t, really. I’d decided to come here when I left Bramley, before my run-in with Sig in Central Park. But I was beginning to wonder how much of what I was doing was my idea and what was suggestions from others being put in to action.

For my entire adult life I’d been doing the bidding of others. My whole life in this city I’d been the puppet on the end of Sig’s strings, and I was only now becoming truly aware of that.

Rebecca kept smiling, running her fingers over the back of the couch behind her. “Of course not.
Non
. That would be against the rules, wouldn’t it? Sig would be smarter than to send his beloved pet to her death.”

Okay, seriously, did
everyone
know about Sig’s peculiar attachment to me? What did it mean that the entire council believed I was Sig’s pet?

“Ask me your questions,” she urged.

“Do you know what Holden is accused of?”

“
Oui
,” Rebecca answered without hesitation. I was stunned into muteness. It couldn’t be this easy, could it?

“Can you tell me?”

“I don’t see why not. The warrant is issued. It cannot be undone now, and I am not bound to keep it a secret like the Tribunal is.” She kicked her shoes off, and each fell to the floor with a hollow thud, then tucked her feet under herself. Outside, music was humming, but I couldn’t have told you what was playing if you paid me a million dollars. I was sitting forward on the edge of my seat, staring at her expectantly.

“What did he do?”

“Holden Chancery stands accused of being a traitor to the council.”

“But that’s crazy. Holden has devoted his life to the council.”

“Certainly. But did we not also ignore his right for advancement? Did we not give him reasons to loathe us, all because of—”

“Me.”

“
Oui
.” She was watching me for a reaction, and I was doing my best not to give her one. Everything she was telling me was something I’d thought already. I knew Holden’s supposed betrayal could be traced back to me. I couldn’t let the guilt overwhelm me, because it was more important I prove Holden’s innocence than focus on the part I’d played to make him look guilty.

“You know he didn’t do it, don’t you?”

“Does it matter now?” She wasn’t denying it.

“It matters to me. It matters to Holden.”

“Is that because Holden matters to you?” Rebecca seemed genuinely curious.

“Yes.” I let my face show nothing.

“How interesting.”

“Tell me.” I was barely touching my seat, I had shuffled so far forward. She sat up, mirroring my stance, and looked me right in the eyes. Her smile flashed fang.

“Your warden could not have done what they say he has done.”

“What do they say he did?”

“In our council, a council you now count yourself a member of, there are some who need to be protected. Their safety is a priority to us all, because they know secrets or are keepers of power we cannot allow to be risked.”

I nodded, but I was still a few mental steps behind her.

“The council, we have something akin to your human world’s witness protection. Only ours has always worked. Until recently.”

“What changed?”

“Failure…is death.”

“They were killed?”

“Not all,
non
. But two elders this year were, and another three last year. These were old vampires, well protected, who believed the council would protect them above all else. Protect them even from ourselves. And we failed them.”

“And Holden is supposed to have killed them?”

“
Apparently
.” But her tone told me she didn’t believe it for a second.

“Why don’t you think he did it?”

“I know he did not because he would never have had access to their locations. He was not powerful enough or trusted enough to be given those details. We would have been fools indeed to give the locations of our protected elders to the warden responsible for our council’s assassin.”