Armand sat close by Louis on my right, and was his usual self in a dark burgundy velvet coat with layers of lace at the collar, very much the stylish master of Trinity Gate, his pale boyish face as unreadable as ever.

Next to Armand was Allesandra, Allesandra my old queen from the Satanic coven under Les Innocents, who had not been at Court since the beginning of the New Year. She had continued to grow in beauty and presence since her resurrection, and her ash-blond hair was tied back with a bone clip on the top of her head, spilling loosely down her back and over her shoulders. She wore a simple velvet gown of dark blue, without ornamentation.

I sensed an immense sadness in Allesandra.

Next to her—between her and David Talbot—was a stunningly beautiful black vampire whom I’d never seen before, though I knew who he was and he silently gave me his name, Arion, as our eyes met. He was so black that his skin was almost bluish, and his eyes appeared yellow, though I think they must have been more truly pale green. His jacket and shirt were almost rags. He wore an incongruous watch on his left wrist, one of those devices that tells the time all over the world. And his curly black hair was clipped short.

I felt a sudden pain in my heart at the sight of him. It was with this powerful vampire, somewhere on the coast of Italy, that two young ones, two young ones very dear to me, might have been lodging when the tragic conflagrations of last year had begun. No one had seen or heard of those two vampires since the Burnings. And I had a desperate feeling that this Arion knew their fate. I also had the sense he was withholding this information from me now because it was not the time to reveal it, and his quick furtive glance to Marius let me know he thought other things might take precedence here.

Pandora was directly opposite Arion, in her usual embroidered gown, her long tightly waving brown hair shining clean, and at her left was Arjun, Arjun of India, her fledgling and companion, dressed as usual for him in a fine black sherwani.

To the left of Arjun sat Fareed, who was always at the right of his maker, Seth. Both wore the simple white cotton coats of doctors, with nondescript shirts and ties.

No Benji, though I knew he was in the building, and had expected him here due to the importance of the radio broadcast.

And no Chrysanthe, Gregory’s wife. In other words only those who were assuming power and wanted power.

Marius began at once.

“This is what has happened,” he said. “During the daylight hours, the non-humans used the radio broadcast to communicate with us and with one another. We have to decide immediately whether or not to shut the radio broadcast down.”