A single tear trailed down her cheek, but she valiantly swept it away and straightened her shoulders.

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Seth rose, took her small hand, and helped her to her feet. “It’s going to be all right, Ami.”

Her lips tilted up at their corners, though her eyes remained disconsolate. “A premonition?”

He shook his head. “A rare moment of optimism.”

“Rare indeed,” she said with a smile, and started for the door.

Seth maintained his hold on her hand, stopping her, as a warning sounded in his head. “Wait.”

She glanced at him, her face questioning.

“You told Marcus you have premonitions.”

She grimaced. “It was the best way I could think of to describe them.”

“You had one of your feelings?”

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“Yes.”

“In regard to what?”

“The meeting with Roy tonight.” She shook her head. “Something bad is going to happen. I don’t know what, but something’s going to go wrong. I know it.”

He considered this new development and coupled it with the information Chris and Darnell had found. “We’ll change our strategy, scrap the old plan and form a new one that will cover all the bases and add a contingency on top of that.”

She nodded, but didn’t look reassured.

Uneasy (Ami and her feelings were rarely wrong), Seth opened the door.

Darnell stood patiently in the hallway beyond, waiting for them to conclude their talk. His sharp eyes skimmed Ami’s features. “Everything okay?”

She nodded.

His gaze slid to Seth’s. “What about you? You good?”

David must have told Darnell Marcus had hit him.

“I’m good. Let’s go decide how we’re going to handle Roy and whatever he’s got up his sleeve.”

No amount of duct tape could make the broken, splintered furniture anything close to steady, comfortable seating for men packing two hundred pounds of muscle. Neither could hammer and nails. So everyone gathered in the dining room.

Once the food had been cleared away, Seth and David sat in the positions of power at opposite ends of the table that could seat twenty-four. Ami sat between Seth and Marcus, with Sarah and Roland across from her. The d’Alençons sat beside Roland, their Seconds across from them beside Marcus. Yuri and Stanislav took the seats beside David on Ami’s side of the table. Chris Reordon’s men seated themselves next to Stanislav.

Bastien sat on the other side at David’s elbow. No one sat beside him.

Chris Reordon circled the table, handing everyone a thin, manila file folder. When he reached Bastien, Chris gave the hand the immortal held out a sneering look, bypassed him and the empty chairs beside him, and took a seat beside the d’Alençons.

“Chris,” Seth intoned.

“What?” He tossed the remaining files on the table and crossed his arms. “I don’t trust him. For all we know he could be orchestrating what brought us here.”

David sighed and held out a hand. The folder on top slid across the polished wood and delivered itself into his fingers. “Here.” He handed it to Bastien, his eyes never leaving Chris. “He isn’t.”

“How do you know? The fact that he breached network headquarters and tore into my men illustrates that he isn’t under your control.”

“He is my protégé, not my prisoner.”

Ami was a little surprised to hear that. She hadn’t realized David had taken on sole responsibility for the training and supervision of the rather reluctant inductee into the Immortal Guardians’ ranks.

“Well, maybe he should be your prisoner. Where were you when he was attacking my men?”

“Chris,” Seth barked, but David raised a calm hand to halt whatever reprimand he planned.

“I was healing an immortal in Sudan whose hand had been severed. Where were you?” David countered. “I believe Bastien attempted to follow protocol when he arrived at network headquarters and was refused entrance.”

“I didn’t think he should be allowed contact with the vampires unattended. Not after what had happened with Marcus and Ami.”

“A thirty-second phone call would have netted him an escort if safety concerns had been your true motivation. Instead you allowed bias to govern your actions.” David’s mahogany gaze skimmed everyone present. “Should any of you share Chris’s suspicions, rest assured Sebastien had nothing to do with the current uprising. Seth and I have both examined his thoughts.”

“Even those he intentionally blocks?” Chris asked.

Some immortals, Ami knew, were strong enough to hide their thoughts from all but the most powerful telepaths. Or there were those like Richart who, having spent all of his life in the presence of a telepathic brother and telepathic sister, had learned over time to erect unusually strong barriers in his mind.

“Even those,” David confirmed.

When Chris retreated into belligerent silence, David smiled. “Need proof? Very well. You may be pissed about Sebastien’s encroaching upon your domain and injuring your men. Your pride may be hurt because you thought the network impregnable, yet were unable to halt his incursion. But you do not condemn him for slaying Vincent because deep down you believe it was an act of mercy, and you are relieved that the young vampire will no longer suffer.”

All eyes focused on Bastien and Chris. Both wore matching scowls.

Had Bastien killed the young vampire at the vamp’s request? Ami alone knew how he fretted over them, despising himself for not being able to help them. He let no others see that side of himself.

Seth leaned forward. “All right. No more objections to Sebastien’s presence. This matter concerns him, and he has information that may benefit us.”

Across from her, Roland opened his mouth to make what surely would have been a caustic rebuttal, but emitted only a grunt as a thud sounded beneath the table. The curmudgeonly warrior shot his wife a reproving look that softened into a smile when she winked impishly.

Ami clamped her lips together to keep from laughing.

Darnell entered, holding a cell phone to his ear. “Okay. Thanks.” He lowered the phone, his gaze seeking Seth’s. “We have confirmation.”

Seth nodded. Ami silently applauded Darnell when he seated himself beside Bastien.

Chris handed him a folder.

“Some new intel has come to light,” Seth announced. “We all assumed this new uprising was being led by a vampire Roy referred to as their king. We now have reason to believe otherwise.”

“Don’t tell me it’s another immortal!” Richart blurted out.

“No,” Seth assured him. “It isn’t an immortal. It’s a human.”

Darnell nodded. “Dr. Montrose Keegan, the scientist who worked with Bastien, is back in town. We were alerted to the possibility by a substantial withdrawal made from his bank account, which has been inactive since he vanished after Bastien’s … um—”

“Sound defeat?” Roland drawled helpfully.

“Roland,” Seth spoke softly, “don’t provoke.”

Darnell cleared his throat. “I was going to say change of circumstances. Anyway, we’ve confirmed that Montrose himself withdrew the money. Neither his card nor his identity were stolen. We even have surveillance footage of him entering the bank.”

Lisette pursed her lips. “An interesting coincidence.” She looked to Seth. “Do you think he is the vampires’ leader?”

“It seems a logical conclusion,” he said.

“Bullshit,” Bastien scoffed. “Montrose may have brains, but courage? Not an ounce. He’s as cowardly as they come and wouldn’t have the bollocks needed to lead a dozen vampires, let alone what is beginning to look like an army of hundreds.”

“Are you sure?” Seth asked.

“Absolutely. To lead vampires, you have to interact with them personally. They won’t take orders from someone they never see. And if they don’t fear you, they won’t follow you. Vampires don’t fear humans. Montrose never came to the farmhouse, never dealt with anyone face-to-face other than his brother Casey and me. He was terrified of vampires, too timid to even ask me for a blood sample, and I was the sanest of the lot. Instead he just ran his tests on his brother, content to remain hidden in his basement laboratory. And there were times he even feared Casey.”

Marcus leaned forward. “Are you saying you think he’s not involved?”

“Not at all. I’m saying he isn’t the ringleader. Their so-called king must truly be a vampire, though I don’t know how Montrose hooked up with him. Or why. Casey is dead. Montrose can’t help him and has lost that motivation.”

Ami considered the likely options. “Maybe the vampires heard about him and enlisted his aid to find a cure.”

Bastien shrugged. “It’s possible.”

Sarah leaned forward so she could look past the others and meet Bastien’s gaze. “Could he be seeking revenge?”

Bastien tilted his head to one side, considering her idea. “Against the immortals? For killing Casey in the final battle?”

“No, against you. If rumor has reached him that you’ve switched sides … he may blame you for his brother’s death. Maybe he thinks you sold the others out and handed Casey over to his killers.”

Ami looked up at Marcus. “Roy did ask for Bastien personally.”

Bastien sat up straighter. “He did?” His gaze went to Seth, then David. “You didn’t tell me that.”

Chris motioned to the file David had given Bastien. “It’s all there in the file.”

Irritation flickered across Bastien’s handsome features as his eyes began to glow. “I haven’t had a chance to read the damned file. It was just handed to me.” He met Ami’s gaze. “What happened? What did he say?”

Ami told him.

“He wants my help?”

Though Bastien’s face was impassive, Ami saw the pain beneath the surface. He wanted desperately to trust the vampires and take their desire to seek a cure at face value, having lived among them for so long. But he had been badly deceived.

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