“But what are they thinking?” Murphy said. “This Zara is poisoning the blood supply all over the world. She’s destabilizing Oleg. I’ve never even heard of this woman. Does she think she’s going to be able to control Oleg’s territories? That’s madness.”

“I told you she’s nuts,” Cormac said. “This is Zara. She hasn’t thought that far ahead.”

“Do you think she’s in London and we missed her?”

Cormac shook his head. “She likes to fuck with people from a distance. But I bet my other arm she’s got someone in that meeting on her payroll. She’s found out what they want and she’s using them to be her eyes and ears. My guess is Jetta, because she hates the Russians so much, but I could be wrong. Rens probably had information on her, which is why he’s dust. And when she found out I was here, she sent someone after my daughter.”

The immortal’s devotion to the girl almost made Murphy like him.

Almost.

“How do you know all this?”

“Because Zara approached me and offered to kill all my brothers if I’d let her ship into New Jersey no questions asked.”

Even Murphy knew that was a mistake. The O’Briens fought like cats and dogs amongst themselves, but only amongst themselves. They were like his mother’s people. They could fight with each other and still be fiercely loyal against outsiders.

“You said no.”

He shook his head. “Not even the Albanian bosses in my city want to deal with Zara. And they’re considered so crazy the Russians want nothing to do with them.”

“Is your entire city made up of criminals, O’Brien?”

The other vampire grinned. “It keeps things interesting.”

“Clearly. So Zara made you curious after she approached you.”

“Yep. I did some digging with the aforementioned criminal elements in my city. She doesn’t like attention, but she’s got a reputation. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her.”

“Don’t think we keep similar company, O’Brien, because we don’t.”

“Please.” He spit a fleck of tobacco from his lip. “I know you like to come across as a prissy bastard, but you’re as much of a criminal as me, Murphy. You just have a prettier accent.”

“I won’t disagree with you.”

“Fuck you,” Cormac growled. “I better leave before I actually start liking your pansy ass. Take it easy, Irish. And send a card when the crazy bitch is dead.”

Murphy leaned against a pillar and drew the fog closer as he watched Cormac walk into the night.

It was the Greeks. He’d been right all along, but to truly understand what was going on, he needed to know about the Russian. Zara hated Oleg so much that she’d poison their world to hurt him. That kind of hate was more than a lovers’ quarrel, and he bet Anne knew the details.

She likes to fuck with people from a distance.

If O’Brien was right, then Murphy couldn’t do much about Zara. At least not yet. But there was someone he could hurt. Whoever had killed Rens and attacked Cormac was in the city. One of the vampires at Terry’s summit had double-crossed them.

And that individual was fair game.

Chapter Nineteen

ANNE WAITED FOR MURPHY in their room, but he arrived barely in time to escape the sun before he collapsed into bed. She’d have to wait until the next night before she found out what Cormac had told him.

Hopefully the American had somehow come across the knowledge that Anne hadn’t been able to reveal. She knew that her knowledge of Oleg and Zara’s relationship could help sort through the mystery and possibly help catch whoever killed Rens, but she still hadn’t heard from her patient.

She couldn’t reveal Oleg’s history without his permission. It could be the death of her.

There was a tap on her door shortly after dawn.

“Yes?” she asked at the door.

Judith’s voice came from the other side. “Dr. O’Dea, I have a message here from your sire. Shall I slip it under the door?”

“Yes, thank you, Judith.”

A small slip of paper was pushed through, and Anne picked it up as the human’s footsteps retreated. She could hear the guards pacing outside, so she took the note and went back to the bed to open it. Her father had written in his old language.

Annie—

An old friend wants to see you. Meet me at the pub tomorrow at ten.

—T

An old friend? Of hers? Of her father’s? Anne had long ago ceased to expect any kind of clarity from him unless he was sitting in front of her. Still, if her father was hosting this old friend, Anne knew she’d be safe. The question was, would Murphy insist on going along?

With the last of his consciousness, the vampire in question pulled her against his body and wrapped both arms around her, burrowing into her hair and pushing one of his legs between her own, effectively trapping her on the bed.

Would he insist on going? Anne was guessing yes.

SHE woke gradually, coming to awareness with the comfort of Murphy wrapped around her. She could feel the easy ebb and flow of their amnis, like soft breaths exchanged between lovers. Though he hadn’t yet bitten her, his blood had flooded Anne’s system, and their bond had snapped into place as if the hundred years that had parted them had been no more than the blink of an eye.

We’re meant, Anne. You know we are. We were so good together. We were young and stupid. Or at least I was. I’m not anymore.