At long last, the third consul rises, silencing all my desperate questions to Sean. Facing his compatriots, he lifts his hands and lowers the dark hood covering his face. The ghostly lines of a tattooed skull gleam against dark skin and I peer through the bright light, trying to make out who he is. Then he speaks again and removes any question.
In a booming voice, he proclaims in a deep Louisiana drawl, "Dat law—dat Lex Imperio Lupum—it don't apply. An' all y'all can see it," he warns, nodding to Volkov and Lovel.
Beside me, Sean's face splits into a wide grin and he grabs me around the middle in a tight hug. "It's Big Easy!" he breathes, grabbing Dorian and pulling him into our hug. "I've never been happier to see that overgrown party animal in my life!"
