“I can’t tell you, Patrick.”

His jaw clenched again, and Anne knew he was biting his tongue.

“If it puts your mind at ease on a personal level, know that the only relationship I am invested in—the only serious one for many years—is ours. I don’t want to know details of your time during our separation, and I certainly don’t expect to share mine with you. Can you leave it at that?”

She could tell Murphy wanted to ask more, but he simply nodded and took her hand.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t know he’d been keeping an eye on her. They lived in a small country. But the situation with Oleg was another matter entirely. She’d made it clear to Tom years ago that while Murphy might dig into her personal life, she expected him to stay out of her professional one. Being too visible put her at risk.

Anne didn’t fear Oleg… exactly. But she had a healthy respect for any fire vampire, and most certainly one who had managed to hold on to the vast Russian territories for over two hundred years. She’d sent out a letter last night with one of Terry’s couriers, but she’d decided that until she heard from Oleg it was too large a risk to reveal anything about his family situation. Not only would she be violating her own principles, but she ran the risk of alienating a powerful vampire she tentatively considered a friend.

“We should get back,” Murphy said. “Talk to Terry and look into the camera angle. If we manage to salvage anything from this summit at this point, it will be a miracle.”

ANNE tried to watch silently as Terry berated his chief of security, but it was difficult. She wondered if Murphy could be as cruel.

“Not my style,” he said almost silently, as if reading her mind.

“What?”

“Terry and I have very different governing styles. I generally find a subtler approach to be more effective.”

“Roger is quite brave to speak up when he’s in this mood though, isn’t he?”

“That would be why Roger is bleeding,” Brigid said.

Murphy said, “That would also be why Roger is his first lieutenant. Do you think Tom and I have never gone a few bloody rounds, Brigid?”

Anne nodded behind Murphy’s back. Some of Murphy and Tom’s fights had been epic.

“He’s not actually going to cut off part of his arm since Cormac was injured that way, is he?”

Murphy pursed his lips. “No. Probably not, anyway.”

Brigid was looking over the shoulder of a young human with a laptop. It was one of Declan’s pair of “hands” that he’d sent from Dublin.

“What’s that?” Brigid asked, pointing to the screen. “Can you zoom in?”

The human tensed. “It will short out if you get too close. See what the screen just did? I just managed to get into their system, and I don’t want to have to start all over. Please stand back, Ms. Connor.”

“But there was something—”

“It’s not like the telly,” the young man said through gritted teeth. “Do you understand the concept of camera resolution? There are only so many—”

“Freddie.” Carwyn wandered over and patted the young man’s arm before Brigid started steaming. “Just do the best you can.”

Murphy looked away from Terry and Roger. “Lad, move to that table. There’s better light. Let us know when you have something.”

“Yes, Mr. Murphy.”

“And Brigid?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Take a deep breath and tell me what the story is before the O’Briens arrive.”

Just as Brigid began to summarize, Anne saw Gemma motion to her from the doorway. Anne touched Murphy’s hand and nodded toward the door. He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to her palm before she left, then turned back to Brigid and Carwyn.

Anne walked to the doorway, where Gemma was watching Terry and Roger.

“A courier from your sister will be arriving in a few minutes,” Gemma said. “Will he need accommodations?”

“No, but thank you.” Anne glanced at Terry and his lieutenant. “Will poor Roger survive?”

Gemma pursed her lips. “Terry’s angry, but Roger is his best man. This was, sadly, unavoidable. We cannot protect those who don’t want to be protected. Rens refused our security, as did Cormac. The O’Briens can bluster, but that’s all they’ll do. Bastiaan Anker, on the other hand, is a total mystery.”

Anne tried not to wince. If Bastiaan Anker was as protective of his sibling as Mary was of her, there would be hell to pay.

“And the others?” she asked. “Have we heard from Jean and Leonor? What about Jetta?”

“All accounted for. There is enough of a French community here in London that Jean uses their resources when he’s in town. Jetta’s chief of security has worked very closely with us while they’ve been here, as has Leonor’s.”

“Do you think the summit can continue?”

Gemma paused. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Do you think stopping it was the goal?”

Gemma shook her head. “Then why not target Terry or me? Or the meeting locations? There are any number of ways to halt meetings, if that’s all that was wanted. Killing Rens was a drastic step. He must have known something the killer didn’t want to get out.”

Anne couldn’t help but think about Murphy’s meeting with Rens the night before. They’d spoken of Oleg. Could the Russian have been watching? Did he know? Anne didn’t even know if her knowledge of Oleg was pertinent to the discussion about shipping. Who wanted to quiet Rens Anker so much that they would kill him and risk the wrath of his powerful clan?