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and compact, was always polite and always well-dressed. This evening he was especially resplendent in an olive suit and brown striped tie. I smiled at him and was just about to tell him I was glad to see him again when I noticed that Eric was eyeing me expectantly. Oh, right.
    I shucked off my coat and extracted the velvet bundle from my purse. I dropped the purse and coat in an empty chair, and walked over to Eric’s desk with the bundle extended in both hands. This was making as much of the moment as I could, short of getting on my knees and crawling over to him, which I would do when hell froze over.
    I laid the bundle in front of him, inclined my own head in what I hoped was a ceremonious manner, and sat down in the other guest chair.
    “What has our fair-haired friend brought you, Eric?” Victor asked in the cheerful voice that he affected most of the time. Maybe he was actually that happy, or maybe his mama had taught him (a few centuries ago) that you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.
    With a certain sense of theater, Eric untied the golden cord and silently unfolded the velvet. Sparkling like a jewel on the dark material was the ceremonial knife I’d last seen in the city of Rhodes. Eric had used it when he officiated at the marriage of two vampire kings, and he’d used it to nick himself later when he’d taken blood from me and given me blood in return: the final exchange, the one that (from my point of view) had caused all the trouble. Now Eric lifted the shining blade to his lips and kissed it.
    After Victor recognized the knife, there was no trace of a smile remaining on his face. He and Eric regarded each other steadily.
    “Very interesting,” Victor said finally.
    Once again, I had that feeling of drowning when I hadn’t even known I was in the pool. I started to speak, but I could feel Eric’s will pressing on me, urging me to be silent. In vampire matters, it was smart to take Eric’s advice.
    “Then I’ll take the tiger’s request off the table,” Victor said. “My master was unhappy about the tiger wanting to leave, anyway. And of course, I’ll inform my master about your prior claim. We acknowledge your formal attachment to this one.”
    From the inclination of Victor’s head in my direction, I knew I was “this one.” And I knew only one male weretiger. “What are you talking about?” I asked bluntly.
    “Quinn requested a private meeting with you,” Victor said. “But he can’t come back to Eric’s area without Eric’s permission now. It’s one of the terms we negotiated when we . . . when Eric became our new associate.”
    That was a nice way to say, When we killed all the other vampires in Louisiana except for Eric and his followers. When you saved our king from death .
    I wished I had a moment to think, far away from this room where two vampires were staring at me.
    “Does this new rule apply only to Quinn or to all wereanimals who want to come into Louisiana? How could you boss the weres? And when did you put that rule into effect?” I said to Eric, trying to buy some time while I collected myself. I wanted Victor to explain the last part of his little speech, too, that bit about the formal attachment, but I decided to tackle one question at a time.
    “Three weeks ago,” Eric said, answering the last question first. His face was calm; his voice was uninflected. “And the ‘new rule’ applies only to wereanimals who are associated with us in a business way.” Quinn worked for E(E)E, which I suspected was at least partially vampire owned, since Quinn’s job was not putting on the weddings and bar mitzvahs the company’s human branch dealt with. Quinn’s job was staging supernatural events. “The tiger got his dismissal from you. I heard it from his own lips. Why should he return?” Eric shrugged.
    At least he didn’t try to sugarcoat it by saying, “I thought he might bother you” or “I did it for your own good.” No matter how bonded we