Jonny met his gaze.
"We're alone?"
Jonny nodded.
"We have a problem."
"Don't we always?" Jonny replied wryly.
"This is a new problem," Charles said.
"Can it wait for us to go back to the lodge?"
"We can't go back to the lodge. That's part of the problem."
Jonny's brow furrowed. He waited for his tense second to speak. Charles, normally blunt, was hesitant.
"There are some vamps who disagree with … things," Charles started. "Some who have taken matters into their own hands. It started with the catch-and-release proposal you emailed everyone about last week."
"I'm sure it started before that," Jonny said. "I know there's an undercurrent of dissatisfaction with me being in charge. It's not just Damian who doesn't like it."
"Change is always difficult, more so to an organization that's been around for over ten thousand years."
"Then what's the problem?"
"We lost some vamps to what I'll call a mutiny."
Jonny almost laughed. How did any of his vamps have the energy to form a mutiny when they'd been obsessively pursuing the Others for so long? "All right. So we have a few volunteers to be disciplined publicly. We'll make them examples," he said.
"Hmmm. Yeah that's not going to work, ikir. We lost almost half of our vamps."
Jonny's humor faded. "Did you say half?"
Charles nodded.
Fuck. The news was nowhere near expected and yet, after the strain of the past few years, Jonny didn't feel its impact. He was too numbed, too fatigued, to react how he suspected he should. "Just when I thought things were going to ease up for a bit … I guess our night isn't over yet, is it, Charles?"
"No, ikir. I think our night is just beginning."
I'm not telling Damian about this one, Jonny vowed to himself. With any luck, his six months of relative peace from the direction of the White God would give him the room he needed to fix his latest mess. Was that all leadership really was? Dealing with one emergency after another?
If nothing else, his pursuit of the Others had taught him a thing or two about patience. "Pick a backup location. Somewhere warm," he ordered. "I'm from Miami. I'm sick of this cool weather shit."
"We'll need a new location. The vamps who went rogue are from the old guard. They know our current backlist of locations," Charles said. "They also probably know you hate cold weather. I'd advise avoiding Miami for now."
Jonny rested his hands on his hips. Being a god with incredible power was rarely as appealing as it sounded. "Fine," he said finally. "Surprise me. Just don't send us to the fucking Tundra."