The couple wore identical shocked expressions. “You . . . know them?” Rick finally asked.

“Yes.” I crossed my arms, daring them to say something. There was absolutely no love lost between the Brotherhood and the Dark Ones-quite the opposite, since pretty much a state of war existed between the two. But I was long past caring what the Brotherhood thought of my knowing vampires. In fact, I considered telling them I was Kristoff’s Beloved. That might just guarantee that I wouldn’t be involved with their group anymore.

Then again, it might also mean my demise. The Brotherhood held to a no-quarter policy when it came to vamps and their buddies.

Jan and Rick exchanged glances. “That’s . . . unusual,” Rick finally said. “I don’t know quite what to say to that.”

“Well, I have some other news that you might be interested in. Those vampires you are blaming for the death of the Zenith are innocent. She was shot and killed by one of your own.”

“No,” Janice said, shaking her head. “The director of the board of governors was there. I read his report on the horrible tragedy, and he stated quite clearly that he was there trying to protect the Zenith. She was killed by a vampire. It was his gun that shot her.”

I sucked my bottom lip for a moment as I moved behind the reception desk, keeping a distance between us. I didn’t exactly expect them to fling themselves upon me with knives, but stranger-and deadlier-things had happened during my time in Iceland, and if nothing else, my time there had taught me a certain amount of circumspection where members of the Brotherhood were concerned.

“I was there, too, you know,” I finally said.

Surprise lit their eyes.

I nodded, a little curious by that. I had a suspicion I knew who they were talking about, although I hadn’t known he was the director-Frederic Robert, a soft-spoken Frenchman who was no stranger either to power or the ability to use it.