40

Qui steeples his fingers and mulls your words over quietly. "We can't be sure what the Feral thought. I'd wager that he knew, though. He knew it was Ward. Robert has grown cold since he defected. The Anarchs claim to be all about peace and unity, but when you strip away the BS, they're only interested in tearing down order and ruling by fear." He growls unconsciously. "But I guess we won't know for sure unless we see the prisoner again. Or until I get Ward to confess."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" you ask politely.

The Sheriff looks thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head. "I think that covers what we needed to discuss. If you see your sire before I do, please let her know—politely—that I wish to speak to her. I'm sure that the inability of my mortal agents to agree on a schedule with her own is merely a bureaucratic inefficiency. Sometimes a meeting between Kindred should be arranged by Kindred themselves."

As Qui turns to leave, the door to the outer hall bursts open, admitting a frazzled-looking Jordan caught up in a whirlwind of haste. "Hey!" she calls out to you, seemingly oblivious to the presence of the Sheriff and his attachés. "You've gotta come quick! One of my visions came true!" Her eyes focus, finally noticing Qui, and her mouth shuts with a sharp click of teeth. "Oh," she stammers, swiping a length of red hair out of her face. "Hello Sheriff."

Next