Giovanni tilted his head. “This is an opportunity. Heldridge has opened the door, Mero, and I long to see what the great Menessos has hidden behind it.” Giovanni leaned forward. “Don’t you?”

“I do not wish to tread where the shabbubitum run free.” Eager to drive his point home, Mero sat straighter and said, “They are dangerous, sentient beings, not domesticated animals that can be made to perform tricks. Treating them as such would be very unwise. Better to leave them where they are.”

Guistini stood, facing the darkness surrounding the Excelsior. “For long decades Menessos has puzzled us all. He refused the very position you fill so well, Excelsior.” The vampire maneuvered his thin frame between the seats one section closer to his lord. “Do you not want to know why? Do you not want to know if he regrets that decision?”

“You reveal your true motive: revenge against the one who tore your throat.” At that, Mero expected Giovanni would explode in anger, but he did not.

Giovanni mounted another step. “Revenge? No. I am merely thinking of the Excelsior’s safety. If Menessos believes his witch is the Lustrata, he will bond with her in order to unite their power. If he’s found her, the Domn Lup won’t be far behind. A triumvirate of power merging the Wolf King, the Witches’ Messiah, and the vampire who could have been Excelsior . . . what will they seek, once they are united, my lord?”

Mero tried once more to stop the madness. “Your manner suggests guilt, yet you have only minimal facts.” He glanced at the screen again; Heldridge was pounding on the door.

“They could not have yet recognized their full potential.” Giovanni made a fist as he said, “This trio is yet within your grasp, Excelsior. The shabbubitum are at your beck and call. Do you dare keep your hand at your side?”