I nodded. “I’ll call him, if he has his phone on him. We’ll clean up and we’ll do this.”

I didn’t want to kill Haven. I didn’t want to kill any of them. But he couldn’t bring armed men to our house and demand to be let inside. We couldn’t let that go, and he had to have known that. As I took a quick shower so that I wouldn’t go into the meeting covered in shapeshifter goop, I realized that Haven had decided to end things tonight, too. He’d even brought his strongest people so that if we slaughtered them all the pride would be back to the way it was before he came. It would be weak, but it would be open to another Rex coming in and building what he wanted out of it.

Haven was doing his version of suicide by cop, and we were the cops.

15

AN HOUR LATER we were in Jean-Claude’s living room waiting for the lions. Haven had agreed to almost everything I’d asked with almost no negotiating. He’d kept two guards, his two enforcers, which was typical for a shapeshifter leader. If he’d not asked for them to come down the long staircase with him I wouldn’t have let him come at all, because to me that would have meant he was planning to force me to kill him. I was still hoping to save this from becoming a clusterfuck of mammoth proportions. Haven had suggested that he bring the two new female lions for us to meet, and thanks to Auggie’s little talk with me, I said sure.

Jean-Claude sat beside me on the big white couch that faced the curtains and the outer door beyond. We’d showered, but we hadn’t had time to do more than put hair goop in and go with our hair still in damp curls around our shoulders and down our backs. The hair being wet had precluded silk shirts, so Jean-Claude had opted for another pair of his omnipresent leather pants that looked painted on. His shirt was a long-sleeved black mesh T-shirt that covered all that pale chest yet let you see his skin like a ghost through the fabric. He’d chosen one of my favorite pairs of his boots, the ones that laced up the back of his leg from ankle to the tops of his thighs, so that the pants seemed almost redundant, as if the boots had been designed to be worn with very short shorts.

Richard was back in the jeans he’d begun the night in, but his red T-shirt had gotten stained beyond repair, so a leather vest that still fit over his more muscled upper body was shirt enough. His brown hair looked very dark, almost brunet, fresh from the water. He’d tied it back in a ponytail so that it gave the illusion he had short hair. I’d honestly expected him to leave before we met with the lions. He’d said, “The last time Haven was in this room he tried to seriously injure some of your other lions, and I had to beat the shit out of him to get him off them. I can’t leave until I know everyone’s going to be safe. Jean-Claude may need his triumvirate tonight.”

I couldn’t argue with his logic, but for the first time in a very long time Richard was sitting on the other side of Jean-Claude, so that our “master” was in the middle. Shang-Da and Jamil stood behind the couch at his back with Wicked and Truth behind Jean-Claude. Claudia and Domino were behind me. Fredo, two more wererats, and a werewolf were by the door. The wererats weren’t an animal I could call, but they’d proved they were loyal to me more than once. They both took my orders before Jean-Claude’s, and Claudia actively disliked Richard. She thought he was just another guy who wanted his girlfriend barefoot and pregnant. Since I felt that way part of the time, too, it was hard for me to talk her down about it.

Domino’s black-and-white curls matched his black-on-black look. Normally he’d have worn a red T-shirt to show that he was willing to be a blood, or sex, donor, but Jean-Claude had wanted us to look like we were on the same side. I hadn’t argued. Domino hadn’t, either.

Crispin was down the hallway out of the fight. He wasn’t trained with a gun. Hand to hand he did well enough, but if we had to kill the lions tonight it would come to guns. Anyone who wasn’t a shooter on our side had to get the hell away from this meeting. Jason was in his room with J.J. I’d suggested he take her to a hotel for the night, but she’d refused to go. Cardinal was in Damian’s room waiting for him. We were as civilian-free as we could manage.

Even after everything we’d done in bed together, Richard had still not wanted to put Jean-Claude in the middle of us, but Nathaniel was next to me with Damian beside him. Jean-Claude thought it was time that I take my own triumvirate out for a drive. He’d be there to help me, and I’d have what he’d just done with Richard and me to learn from, but Haven was my kitty to call, not Jean-Claude’s. Auggie was right; the cats were mine. I had to make them behave; unless we could figure out a way for Jean-Claude to gain power over the lions it was up to me. I did think about him sleeping with one of the new female lions. I tried to wrap my head around the idea of him sleeping with another woman, and asked myself as honestly as I could how I’d feel about that. I wasn’t sure, but having more than just me to control the lions directly would have been really good right that minute.

Nathaniel and I were both in regular black T-shirts made out of that soft jersey material. His was almost too snug for the muscles of his chest, so that the cloth covered and managed to give hints of all that lay underneath. Mine fit well, but thankfully not that tight, over the black seamless bra I was wearing. I was in black jeans and a pair of black over-the-ankle boots. They were a compromise between the jogging shoes I wanted to wear and the higher heels Jean-Claude had wanted. The boots were actually comfortable and I could move in them. Nathaniel had on a pair of blue jeans so washed they were almost white, with holes here and there. It was the kind of thing shapeshifters wore when they thought they might have to change fast and didn’t want to ruin something nice. He was curled barefoot beside me on the couch, again in case he had to shift quickly. His hair was in a braid down his back. He was ready to fight, and I didn’t like it. Richard was a much better fighter, and he’d almost lost to Haven. If it came down to hand to hand between the lion and Nathaniel, I’d just shoot Haven. I’d already made that decision.

I was wearing my Browning BDM in its custom-made shoulder holster and had my backup gun in a holster at the small of my back. The custom holster let me carry a silver-edged knife as long as my forearm down my spine. My hair hid the hilt. I even had my two wrist sheaths with their silver-edged blades. I’d thrown one of my black suit coats over it so I didn’t look so well armed. The only concession to not killing Haven, really, was that the clip I had in my Browning was regular lead. It would hurt, and make his body have to heal, but it wouldn’t kill him. My backup gun was all silver. If I used fourteen bullets on Haven and had to go for my backup, then I wouldn’t be shooting to wound.

I’d left only one thing in the bedroom that I normally wore to a fight: my cross. Since I was going to try to make my own triumvirate come online and that was technically a vampire power, wearing a holy object that glowed when vampire powers were used seemed like a bad idea. It had never glowed when I did vampy stuff before, but it would be a bad time for that to change. The only thing around my neck on my gold chain was the small amulet with its multiheaded cat on it. Keeping out the Mother of All Darkness seemed like a really good idea; in fact, I’d be sleeping in it from now on, and just putting the cross in the bedside table. The amulet, charm, whatever, didn’t seem to mind what kind of vampire shit happened around it.

Damian was on the other side of Nathaniel in black dress slacks with a matching jacket, his white T-shirt very stark in all that black. His long, wet red hair looked like red neon against the black jacket.