It took longer than Helena liked to get everyone back to her Covenhold. The fight had left no few of her Coven injured, and the youngest of them would be feeling their injuries for days yet. Not so long as a human, of course, especially well-fed as they would be, but for now, it was a hinderance.

The fastest of her Coven went for vehicles, parked just far enough away to be invisible to anyone watching, while the rest worked to patch up their injured, most often with a mouthful of shared blood here and there. Helena went to the worst of the injured herself, and offered her wrist with a comforting smile, and soothing words to reassure them. When she was done, Teucer himself pulled her aside to offer the same favor. She wasn’t injured, but the blood of an Ancient was potent stuff, and it restored her enough to stand guard over her Coven while the vehicles came.

The attitude when they reached the Covenhold was somber and dissatisfied. They had hoped to solve the hostilities with a single true strike, and now they had more yet to face. Another traitor in their number, and this one clever enough to remain hidden even among the Elders and their sweeps through their ranks.

Helena was carefully not thinking about the possibility that the traitor was an Elder themselves. Wilhelm’s betrayal was still fresh and painful.

Through it all, Owen stayed close and Helena was glad to have him there. Of the people in their alliance, he, Teucer, and her three lieutenants were the only ones she did not doubt.

“Children, get our injured to their rooms,” she commanded when they were safely home, and the vehicles were unloading into the well-protected underground parking lot of the Covenhold. “Victoire, reach out to the other Elders. Tell them it was an ambush, but one that failed. Do not reveal Teucer, please. That goes for all of you. For now, that secret belongs to West-River Coven, and no one else.”

“Yes Elder,” Victoire said, tired and injured herself, but not seriously, and always competent. “Halvert, can you handle the children?”

“Yes, of course,” Halvert assured her, and bowed shortly to Helena. “Madame, it will be done.”

“I don’t doubt you,” Helena murmured and gave him a smile. “Take care of them.”

“Always, Madame.”

“Anyone who isn’t injured, or who feels able, come to the conference rooms,” she said when he went off, steady and capable as an anchor in a storm. Like Victoire, he was one of hers, and thus one of Teucer’s grand-sires. Helena trusted them absolutely, in no small part because it was very difficult to lie to one’s sire. “We need to discuss this before the other Covens and our allies arrive.”

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There were murmurs of agreement, but Helena didn’t wait to hear more than the general sense of the before she was off, headed for the largest of the meeting rooms. Owen fell in beside her, quiet and wary. Teucer took one look at her face, and caught her eye pointedly. “A moment?”

There wasn’t really time for her to take a moment, but Teucer followed the request with a rather pointed ping across their sire-bond that told her that he wasn’t precisely asking.

“I don’t have long,” she replied reluctantly. He softened enough to give her a nod, and ushered her into one of the smaller, sound-proofed rooms. Owen came with them, and Teucer only nodded again, permission for the human to come along. “Teucer, what is this?”

“You’re too angry,” he said as soon as the door was closed and the magical proofing went up around them. To that, he added his own talent for obscuring thought and word from others. “Your Coven is not able to speak to you thus, but your sire-bonds with them are strong, and they are catching your fury. It will make them stupid and unwary. You need to calm down.”

For a moment, her vision hazed with red, and that alone sent a bolt of fear through her heart. He was right. She was close, too close, to a rage-induced Frenzy at the thought of yet another betrayal. There were stories about what happened to the Children of an Elder who Frenzied, and all of them were whispered with fear in the vampire community. If she lost her mind, so would half her Coven unless she was put down before it could reach them.

No wonder he allowed Owen into the room. With three other Elders under his belt, Owen had as good a chance as any against her. If she went mad, he would grieve, but he would kill her. Between he two of them, Helena could be safely contained without harm to her Coven.

Owen himself watched her, cautious, but unafraid.

She might be in love with him.

That was, however, something to think on later, when she wasn’t so angry, and they had more time. War was a bad time for falling in love with anyone.

“Elle?” It was Owen himself, empty-handed and steady as he moved closer to her. “You okay?”

“Angry,” she told him, rueful now that her own Sire had brought her to a stop and warned her of the impending danger. “Very angry. The kind of angry that ends in a great deal of blood.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” he told her quietly. He smelled of explosion and blood, a little left-over fear, and the sharp scent of the lightning from his axe. Helena let herself take his scent in, and picked through the individual elements one by one. It was old trick, taught to her by Teucer himself, for grounding a young vampire out when their senses were too much to bear. “You stable?”

“Yes,” she told him, and offered a wan smile to Teucer, who smiled back, a little sad, but pleased to see her control steadied and stable once more. Owen stepped into her space without so much as a catch in his heartbeat, and Helena let him wrap her in a tight hug. “Come. We have a traitor to root out, and I must first ensure that they are not within my own Coven.”