I flipped forward a few pages to the list of penalties for vampires who engaged in prohibited acts. They were . . . remarkably specific. The guillotine and something called “iron pinning” had been taken out during the Canon’s revision when the AAM had been created. Staking, seclusion, and House repudiation remained in play, and there were options for vampires to appeal decisions they thought were unfair.

I was perusing those sections, which were filled with words like “appellee” and “respondent,” when I found something. Vampire crimes could be resolved through trials, just like in the human world. Or, according to one line at the very bottom of the list, vampires could instead choose something called the “Rule of Satisfaction.” Two vampires physically fighting to resolve a dispute; the person who won the fight, won the argument.

I’d read enough Jane Austen to recognize a duel when I saw one. So Uncle Malik and Alexei had been onto something.

I sat back, crossed my arms. I was no legal scholar, but it looked like if I’d violated the rule, either I had to rely on Nicole to decide not to enforce it—which would be great if I could come up with some leverage—or I had to shimmy my way out of the punishment.

Still, dueling was old-fashioned, and I wasn’t a Canon scholar. So I wrote down the language and moved through the stacks until I found the man I needed.

The Librarian stood in midrow, peering at boxes that held print copies of old magazines. He was on the shorter side, with pale skin and dark wavy hair and hands on his lean hips.

Slowly, he shifted his gaze and gave me the Official Librarian Death Stare.

“I don’t have any food or a beverage,” I said. “I only have a question.” I wiggled the paper.

His lips twitched. “Good to see you, too, Elisa. Doing a little research on the AAM?”

“Something like that. I have a question about interpretation of the Canon. But I need discretion.”

His brows lifted, disappeared into dark wavy hair. “Will it hurt Cadogan House?”

“Not at all.”

“What’s your question?”

I handed him the paper. He took it and read, lips pursed. “I see your handwriting hasn’t improved.”

“I don’t write many letters.”

He humphed, then looked up at me. “You’re wondering about Satisfaction.”

“I am. Is it still in use? Is it still something I can request?”

Frowning, but eyes alight with curiosity, he walked back to the Canon, selected a volume, then pulled out a little shelf extension and opened the book on it.

“I didn’t know they did that,” I said.

“Because you’d have used them for snack holders,” he said, turning pages until he found the one he wanted. Then he studied it with furrowed brow.

“As you may know, not all of the Canon was revised when the AAM took power,” he said. “The Rule of Satisfaction is one of the sections that wasn’t.” He flipped forward a few more pages. “There’s no commentary, so I can’t speculate as to the modern intention. If this was a human legislature, we could review the debate transcripts. But vampires don’t keep those.” And he seemed exceedingly displeased by that failure.

He considered for a moment, staring blankly at the spines in front of him while tapping fingers on the open volume. “They didn’t change the rule when they could have. You have a reasonable argument that, even though it’s old-fashioned, they made a choice to keep it on the books, so the Rule still exists and can be used by vampires.” He shifted his gaze to me. “But that doesn’t mean the AAM will buy it.”

Fortunately, I only needed Nicole to buy it. And I knew how to negotiate.

TWENTY-ONE

I reviewed a few more books that might give me additional ammunition and, just in case, to check if sanctuary from any other Sup group was an option. Short answer: It wasn’t, as far as I could tell.

Maybe I could just live at Taco Hole. It was neutral ground, and I could build up my pain tolerance.

Connor messaged when his conversation with my dad was done, so I made my way back downstairs, found him waiting on the portico, the cool breeze ruffling his hair. It was chillier now than it had been when we’d gone inside.

“How was your meeting?”

Connor just looked at me, expression bland. “If he’d wanted you to know, brat, he’d have told you.”

“That bad?”

“Good or bad is none of your business. What did you find in the library?”

“A bit of Canon law that might help us. Maybe.”

“You sound very confident.”

“Yeah. I have to think it through. Let me mull it over a little, then I’ll give you the details, okay?”

His stare went even blander. “You’re asking me to trust you while you conceal information from me.”

“It’s different when I do it for reasons I don’t have the brain power to articulate right now. Something, something double standard?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. You have twenty-four hours.”

“You’re hilarious.” I leaned into him as we walked down the sidewalk. “Let’s go back to your place. I’m exhausted.”

“And hungry.”

“Only a little,” I admitted. But didn’t object when he grabbed a deep-dish pizza from an all-night joint on the way home.

He dropped it onto the counter when we reached the town house, and the shifter and not-quite-sorceress circled like animals.

“Thanks,” Alexei said, then dumped a slice on a plate. I watched in horror as he horizontally dissected the pizza, then placed each layer separately around the plate.

“What in the name of all that is good and delicious are you doing?” Lulu stared at him in horror. She was right. It was very upsetting.

He chewed, swallowed. “I’m eating pizza.”

“None of us think that’s what this is.” She looked up at us. “Right?”

“He doesn’t like his food to touch,” Connor said, apparently unbothered. He should have been bothered.

“It’s pizza. And it’s deep dish. Of course it’s going to touch. That’s the point.”

“Not the way he eats it.” Connor glanced at me, lips curled in amusement. “Are you so fastidious, brat, that you can’t let a man eat a pizza the way he wants? What kind of world would that be?”

“Pizza autocracy,” Alexei said, and cut through a wedge of cheese, bit in.

“A sane one,” I said, dishing up my own slice. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy things today, but that might be the weirdest.”

While we ate, Connor and I told them about our very dramatic evening.

Lulu looked me over, nodded. “You seem whole for now.” But there was worry in the set of her brows.

“I’m as good as I can be.” I looked at Alexei. “While we’re interrogating you, did you find anything blackmail-worthy?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “If Clive has any skeletons in his closet, they’re well hidden.”

“It’s logical the AAM would be careful,” I said, “especially when staffing something called the ‘Compliance Bureau.’”

“What about Jonathan Black?” Connor asked.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d asked Alexei to take a look, so I kept it to myself.

“You said you weren’t sure if he was a friend. Given his interest in you, I think that’s a question we need to answer now.”

“I didn’t say a thing,” I said and held up my hands for peace.

“What did you learn?” Connor asked.

“He has connections to certain criminal ventures of the supernatural variety.”

“Dark magic?”

“Among other things. I didn’t get many details; the names of his clients are completely hush-hush. He’s very discreet. But there’s no dispute he reps criminals.”

I’d say that kept him out of the “ally” category, regardless of his request. I’d definitely be careful the next time we interacted. “Anything about him that definitively relates to this?”

“Not that I could find.” Alexei looked at me, apology in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No apology necessary. If you had more time, I’m sure you could find something. But the clock is very much against us.”

“So what’s the plan?” Lulu asked.

“She’s playing vampire lawyer,” Connor said, sipping his drink.

“Still mulling it over,” I said. “But I think I’m going to need a place to meet them again. Even if I’m right about my legal theory, I’m going to have to address it in person.” And since my father had already offered it up as a meeting spot to Nicole, Cadogan House seemed like the logical possibility. “Lulu said something about using Levi as a lure. I think we can make that happen, or at least try for it.” But I checked the time. “We need to talk to the Ombuds, to Gwen, but it’s too close to dawn for me to drive.”

“Not a problem,” Connor said and gestured to the artscreen. “You can chat with them that way.”

* * *

* * *

I contacted the OMB, and we let Connor futz with the electronics.

My screen buzzed. I pulled it out, thinking it was confirmation from Theo or a reminder to feed the starter again, but found something else entirely.

You lied to me. You will regret it.

—Your enemy

“I’m sorry to report Levi and I aren’t friends anymore,” I said and showed everyone the note. And realized, with great relief, that he’d made a very big mistake.

“He didn’t anonymize the message,” I said and grinned up at Connor. “He got sloppy and forgot to encrypt it, or whatever tech-scrambly thing they do. There’s a legitimate US number attached. That means I can respond. And we can lure him out.”

* * *