Jean-Claude said, "Call them back, ma petite, I would not lose them over this."
"There's only two of them, Jean-Claude."
"But they are not what they seem."
I called everybody off and turned to Jean-Claude. "What?"
It was Valentina who came forward and answered my question. "There is a room where the servants of the Sweet Dark wait, asleep. The council members will go into that room from time to time and try to call them to their service."
I glanced at the two vampires, then back to Valentina. "These two woke," I said.
"More than these two," she said, "our mistress has called six of them awake. She believes it is a mark of her growing power."
Valentina and I looked at each other. "The Mother of All Darkness is waking, and her servants wake before her." I whispered it, but even whispered, it shivered and filled the room with dancing echoes.
"I believe so," Valentina said.
"Our mistress is more powerful than any other. The servants of our Sweet Mother wake to Belle Morte's command. It is a sign of our mistress's greatness," Musette declared it as truth, a ringing pride in her voice.
"You're a fool, Musette, the dark is waking. The fact that they are standing here is proof of that. They'll obey Belle Morte until their true mistress rises, then God help you all."
Musette literally stamped her foot at me. "You will not spoil our fun. You cannot touch me, they will not let you."
I looked at them, and frowned. "They're not just vampires, are they?"
"What do you mean, ma petite?"
I could feel them, feel a presence that shouldn't have been there. "They feel like shape-shifters. Vampires can't be shape-shifters." I realized even as I said it that that wasn't entirely true. The Mother of All Darkness was a shape-shifter and a vampire. I'd felt that.
"I thought Mommy Dearest was the first vampire, the one who made you all."
"Oui, ma petite."
"Are there any vampires on the council that descend directly from her?"
Jean-Claude thought about that for a moment. "We all descend from her."
"That's not what I asked."
Asher answered, "There is no one that can claim direct descent from her line, but she founded the council of vampires. She began our civilization, gave us rules, so that we were no longer solitary beasts, killing each other on sight."
"So she's your cultural mother, not your line's originator."
"Who can tell for certain, ma petite? She is the beginning of what we are today. She is our Mother in all ways that are important."
I shook my head. "Not all ways." I stood out of reach and said, "Someone who speaks whatever they speak translate this for me."
Valentina stepped up. "They understand French now."
"Fine. Jean-Claude."
"I am here, ma petite."
"Tell them that Musette has forfeited safe conduct, and we need to place her under arrest. She won't be harmed, but she won't be allowed to harm anyone else."
Jean-Claude spoke slow French, so I could understand a lot of it. I had picked up more and more over the years, but rapid speech still gave me problems. "I have told them."
"Then tell them this, too. If they don't move out of the way so we can arrest her, then we are within the rules that the Mother of Darkness laid down-to kill them for disobeying the rules."
Jean-Claude looked doubtful.
"Just repeat it," I said. I walked away a little to find Bobby Lee. He was sweating and looked unwell.
"I am sorry, Anita. We failed you."
I shook my head. "Not yet you haven't."
He looked puzzled.
"Open your leather jacket, wide."
He did what I asked.
I took his gun out of its shoulder holster and got a glimpse of a second gun in his belt. Rules said only guards could be armed. I pointed the gun at the ground, and clicked off the safety.
His eyes were very wide. I wasn't actually sure if he could let me have the gun. But he did, and I threaded my way carefully back through the crowd to the front lines.
The gun was invisible, held in the folds of my full black skirt. "What did they say, Jean-Claude?"
"They don't believe anyone here can hurt them. They say that they are invincible."
"How long have they been asleep?"
Jean-Claude asked them. "They don't know for certain."
"How do they know they're invincible?" I asked.
He asked, and they drew swords from under their white coats. Short swords, forged of something darker and heavier than steel. Was it bronze? I wasn't sure. I just knew it wasn't steel.
We all stepped back from the drawn blades, whatever they were made of. "They say that no weapon born of man can harm them," Jean Claude said.