Roman didn’t look happy. “I’d send in my spies but they’re too well known among the vampire community.” I stared at him. He was the son of Blood Wyne, the Queen of the Crimson Veil. As Roman’s official consort, I had to obey him, unless I could figure out how to cajole or argue my way out of the situation. That didn’t mean I had to be happy about it, though. “I already have more on my plate than I can deal with, what with the destruction going down in Otherworld, and the worries about the demonic war over here Earthside. You know I’m swamped.” Tracking down rogue vampires who were killing innocent people was the last thing I wanted to do right now. Last time it had happened, I’d been on the receiving end of a hand grenade wielded by a freakshow vampire serial killer with identity issues. He’d been a priest before he’d been turned, and the combo of being a holy man and being turned into a rampaging monster had slammed his brain way out in left field.
