At the mention of the head of the Iron Veil Cartel controlling Georgia, Elena straightened. “Gather your own intel first,” she said instead of admitting that she didn’t want Sayah to learn of her ignorance. Of her failing. The problem was still small, still manageable. She needed to keep it within her borders. “Find them,” she added with a growl.

“I don’t want to leave your side,” Sofia confessed, gaze fixed only on Elena. “The last time?—”

Elena put her hand on her shoulder. They’d all experienced a horrible loss, all still recovering. Even after lifetimes of loss, it still took more than its due. Grief never visited without leaving another scar behind. “What occurred will never be repeated,” she vowed.

Without a word, Sofia turned and disappeared into the crowd. Her movements were swift and silent, a shadow rejoining the darkness.

Elena watched her go, a knot forming in her gut. A male nest. It couldn’t be possible. It was too much of an anomaly, a disruption in the natural order. Males simply couldn’t hold power without the ability to procreate. Without the kind of allegiance that connection created. What was the point in taking power from her if they could not wield it?

She pushed the thoughts aside. The intel had to be incomplete. And if there was anyone who could discover the truth without arousing suspicion, it was her soundless assassin.

When she turned back toward Zuri and Marisol, Zuri was gone and Marisol was in conversation with a tall brunette. The entirety of the endless cosmos contracted to the point where the woman’s hand met Marisol’s forearm. Nothing existed beyond the sultry smile on Marisol’s glossy pink lips and interest in her brilliant hazel eyes.

Resisting the instinct to cause a scene, Elena sauntered instead of striding. Marisol was practically hanging on every word while being regaled with World War II nursing techniques. No one could really be that interested in penicillin or wound debridement.Gods.

The moment she stepped into the vampire’s field of vision, the woman stopped talking. “Elena,” she said, her eyes trained on her shoes. “A blessing to be in your presence again.”

Elena’s attention shot to Marisol and the flush creeping down her elegant throat.

“Lois was a Navy nurse during Japan’s occupation of the Philippines and was captured,” Marisol said with something bordering on fascination. “She was telling me how she and her fellow nurses kept the other POWs alive for three years of internment with basically no supplies. She’s a freaking hero.”

“No hero,” Lois replied in the most transparent attempt at humility Elena had ever seen. “Just did my job.” She shifted her gaze back to Marisol. “No different than you clocking in at the hospital every day. You do your best and save who you can.”

Elena’s lip itched to curl at the saccharine display. Instead of verbalizing her displeasure, she wrapped her arm around Marisol’s waist, making it obvious that Heroic Nurse Lois had trespassed on what was hers.

Eyes widening, Lois bowed her head. “Forgive me, I was not advised,” she said, tone clipped with the appropriate amount of fear and regret. Without looking up, she turned and fled.

“Why did you do that?” Marisol’s expression was alive with confusion and too much indignation. “We were talking.”

“She wanted to?—”

“She wanted to talk to me,” Marisol snapped, interrupting her in front of her subjects. As if easing away would stop them from listening. “You know, a conversation. That thing where people ask you questions about yourself, and then listen. Maybe they even tell you some interesting and related bits of information so you can get to know each other. And it made me realize that I don’t think you’ve ever asked me a single question. I thought that was a vampire thing, but obviously it’s not.”

Brow furrowed, Elena couldn’t piece together why Marisol was so annoyed. “I ask you questions,” she said flatly.

The arms crossing over Marisol’s chest spoke of disagreement. “Oh, yeah. Lots of questions.” She made a show of pretending to think. “Questions likeare you wet?” She dropped her arms to rest her hands on her hips. “Wait. I’m sorry. You enjoy telling me I’m wet before you’ve even touched me. So, no. Not even then.”

Returning with a martini, Zuri was very obviously not going to help her figure out why Marisol had lost her mind. With an irrepressible smirk, Zuri pulled an olive off a toothpick with her teeth. Open delight was not what Elena needed.

“We haven’t exactly had time to?—”

Marisol didn’t let her finish. “And somehow, in about fifteen minutes, Lois learned that it took me forever to learn how to insert a Foley catheter, that I’m allergic to nuts, and had?—”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to inquire of your medical history,” Elena joked in an effort to change Marisol’s unexpected mood, but Zuri’s pitying chuckle made it clear that had been the wrong tack.

“What Bambi is saying,” Zuri started as if she was suddenly the expert on the subject, “is she wants to feel more like a personand less like a sex toy. And if all you want is a latter”—her gaze drifted to Lois, who was trying to disappear into the velvet wallpaper—“then she has other options to fulfill the former.”

Every inch of Elena’s skin ignited at the idea of Marisol in someone else’s bed. Her fangs surged into lethal points while her muscles tensed. She was about to tell Marisol that she didn’t need to go outside of her and Zuri to satisfyanyof her needs when Librada signaled to her from upstairs.

If it had been anyone other than the head of the California cartel standing next to her, Elena would have made Librada wait. But she hadn’t seen the woman wander in, and she needed to make sure she saw Elena had everything well in hand.

“Wait here,” Elena growled.

Marisol held her gaze before making a face that saidmaybe.

After draining her glass, Zuri laughed. While Elena stomped away, she heard Zuri whisper, “Remember this moment, Bambi. It’s the second she realized you could really fuck her up.” Her grin turned audible. “She learns so much more slowly than I do.”

Chapter Forty-Five