Frost Burned

of being scared while my back was to her wasn’t the smartest move I’d ever made—but smart coyotes don’t fall in love with werewolves or go to meetings with vampires.
    “You’ve met him.” Stefan could smile and keep his voice totally serious. He wouldn’t have smiled if Marsilia was coming up behind me, so I relaxed that little bit more. “Do you remember the vampire who was pulling Estelle’s strings, who talked Bernard into rebellion?” When Stefan had been driven from the seethe with unpardonable brutality so that he could be an impartial witness.
    “Gauntlet Boy?”
    Marsilia laughed. One of those horrible not happy laughs. Like the Queen of Hearts in
Alice in Wonderland
. And on that thought I had to turn around so I could keep an eye on her. I noticed as I moved around that Honey’s ruff was up, and Asil had stiffened.
    “Gauntlet Boy?” She knew she’d creeped me out. I could read the pleasure of it in her expression. “Gauntlet Boy. Yes, Mercedes, Gauntlet Boy. He started amassing power five years ago, taking over one city after another. He sees himself as the vampire’s version of Bran.”
    “Bran is not a bad thing.” He might rule with sharp fangs, but life was better for everyone, werewolf and human alike, because he did so.
    “A vampire’s version of Bran is not Bran.” Stefan spoke from right behind me. I hadn’t heard him approach.
    I moved casually so that I had my back to empty space, with Honey on my left and Asil on my right—and all of the bloody scary vampires (Stefan included) in front. I knew they saw me do it—but they were willing to let me get away with it without commenting. Maybe Marsilia was serious about working together.
    “Not Bran,” agreed Hao. “He goes by the name of William Frost. We do not know how old he is or where he came from. I first heard of him when the Master of Portland disappeared. For three weeks his seethe searched for him. As you know, Ms. Hauptman, because I am told that you do, vampires who are not powerful cannot live without feeding upon a vampire strong enough to maintain them. This is the most powerful hold that the master or mistress of a seethe has over their fledglings. The vampires of Portland were dying without their master, and so they called upon me. When I got there, though, they had already been . . . saved.” He said the word with a twist of his lips. “William Frost had them in hand, he said. Then he invited me to join him. He was quite forceful. I did not, however, wish to join his seethe. I refused, but because I also did not want to command a seethe, I left him unharmed. Mostly.”
    Hao was not one of Marsilia’s minions. He’d told me that she’d sent him to get me, but if he went, it had been because he wanted to. Both of them were acting as though he was her equal.
    Stefan put a hand on Hao’s shoulder. “You couldn’t know.”
    Stefan liked Hao. I hadn’t known that there were any vampires left that Stefan liked.
    Hao shrugged. “It is past and done. I cannot do it over. I did not want a seethe, and I was happy to leave Frost to it—though he made my skin crawl.”
    He met my eyes, started to drop his—and then left them where they were. A vampire’s gaze didn’t affect me the way it does everyone else, but he tried anyway. When he failed, he gave me a solemn nod.
    He looked away, and his gaze traveled to Marsilia and Stefan. “We are not good people, Ms. Hauptman. Good people don’t become vampires. I knew he was evil, and I left the vampires of Portland to him.” Hao smiled, and I knew that when he was really amused, he did not smile. “You have heard, I think, that the police are having . . . difficulties in Portland. Too many of them are dying as they go about their jobs. Bran moved the Portland pack to Eugene, Oregon, where they would be safer. I believe he was more worried about the police than the vampires, and he was right. Frost is not ready to take on Bran just yet.”
    I’d heard about the move out of Portland. It happens that packs move. Not often. Usually it is just a matter of the Alpha switching jobs to a place where there is no pack and bringing the rest of his wolves with him. I hadn’t asked why the Portland pack moved to Eugene. At the time, it hadn’t concerned me.
    “Bran is watching him?”
    Hao shrugged. “I do not know Bran, Ms. Hauptman—that is your area of expertise. If he is watching William Frost, he isn’t doing anything about him. I suspect, though,