“Keep them in line?” Griffen said with a frown. “What sort of beings are going to be attending this conclave?”

“Think of them as normal conventioneers in town for the weekend,” Rose said. “You certainly have enough experience dealing with that from your time in the Quarter.”

“So does everyone else who lives here,” Griffen countered. “What do you need me for?”

“How do normal conventioneers act?” the voodoo queen pressed.

“Well, usually they wander through the Quarter, drink too much, make passes at the locals and each other, and sometimes wander down the wrong streets at night and get mugged or into a fight,” Griffen recited. “The pattern doesn’t change that much whether they’re sailors or librarians.”

“Now imagine that same behavior at a supernatural conclave.” Rose smiled.

Griffen did, and didn’t like the image he got.

“I see your point,” he said. “But seriously, Rose, I wouldn’t know what to do or where to begin.”

“I can help you with that as the event approaches,” Rose said. “This conclave is important . . . potentially crucial for the future of everyone involved. The important thing is that you agree to help.”

“But...”

“You do agree, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but . . .”

The bedroom door opened, and Fox Lisa emerged blinking into the light.

“What’s up, lover?” she said, yawning into a fist. “I thought I heard voices.”

“It’s just . . .” Griffen began, then realized that Rose had disappeared.

“Unexpected visitor?” Lisa said, peering around the room. “Hell, invite her in. You know I don’t mind.”

“I . . . I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Griffen said, wondering how much he should explain, if at all.

“Lighten up, lover,” Fox Lisa said with a bawdy wink. “I keep telling you you’ve got to get into the spirit of the thing.”