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We reached the car and Louis-Cesare stuffed me in ahead of him. He hadn’t even shut the door before the driver was tearing away from the curb, tires screaming. I twisted around in time to see the leader join the other two. Our eyes met, and his seemed to have darkened. They looked almost inky now, black as the deepest part of the sea, and as pitiless.
His power flowed after us, filling the air like a clammy fog. It took the form of a human hand, shimmering with the gases that formed it like a glittering shroud. I got the definite impression that it would be a very bad thing if it caught us. It wasn’t even at the car yet, but I could feel the coldness of it, a chill that reached all the way to my bones. I could sense its intent—to search, to find, to kill. It flowed over a flowering shrub, frost furling the leaves like autumn had come in a moment. And when it passed on, there was nothing left behind but dried sticks and fallen petals.
One insubstantial finger barely touched the bumper of the car, and I was suddenly engulfed by a chill so great I would have thrown myself into a fire had one been available. In a heartbeat, it made me certain that warmth would never come again, that I would never do anything but shiver and watch ice creep farther along my bones. So cold.
Strong hands seized me, jerking me across the seat, and lips pressed to mine. Warmth suffused my mouth and began to spread, pushing against the chill shuddering through my body. I came back to myself with a jolt, looking into Louis-Cesare’s worried face, as the driver floored the gas pedal. We rocketed through Claire’s normally quiet neighborhood like all the hounds of hell were after us, outracing ancient magic with a lot of modern German engineering. I clutched Louis-Cesare’s shoulders and shuddered with just the memory of that deadly touch. What had I gotten myself into now?
Chapter Four
An hour later, Louis-Cesare and I were on a plane racing the sun for California. If we didn’t win, it was no big deal. We were ensconced in a private jet, owned by the Senate, that was equipped to keep its occupants from ever experiencing unfiltered sunlight. Not to mention that the vamp sitting in one of the luxurious swivel seats across from me was perfectly able to stand the sun if need be. All the older ones could, at least for a while, although they paid for it in enormous power loss. Since I had a vested interest in keeping Louis-Cesare’s power level at high, I was glad for the tinted windows.
I wasn’t pleased at the way things were shaping up, but at least we were going to be meeting José and Kristie at the end of this jaunt across the country. The Senate had pulled some strings and gotten Kristie away from the mages, and had released José from their own holding cells. The two miscreants had been told that if they helped me complete my mission s
atisfactorily, all charges would be dropped. I’d talked to them by phone at one of the seedier clubs in Vegas where they were celebrating the news. I didn’t object, since they could catch a plane in an hour or two and still beat us to ’Frisco. I was just hoping their party didn’t turn out to be in lieu of a last meal. Neither of them knew what the mission was yet, and when they found out, they weren’t going to need me to tell them the odds on all of us coming back.
The sound of a phone being snapped shut caused me to look up. Narrowed blue eyes bored into mine. I raised an eyebrow in a deliberate imitation of Mircea. “Yes?”
“We need to discuss your involvement with the Fey,” Louis-Cesare announced.
“I don’t have any involvement,” I told him, getting up. There was nowhere to go, but I needed to move. My hands wanted to shake, my skin felt twitchy and my mouth was bitter with adrenaline. I was all wound up with no one to pound.
“You have not perpetrated any attacks on the Fey?”
“No.” As evidenced by the fact that I was still alive. I was enough of a predator to know when I met a greater one, and the Fey leader had shaken me more than I wanted to admit. I don’t like running, but in this case retreat had been a good idea. Of course, I didn’t intend to admit that to Louis-Cesare.
“Then why did they assault you?” His voice held the same faint sneer he’d used in Mircea’s presence, the one that indicated disapproval of everything I was and had ever been. It would have made me uncooperative even if I’d had a clue. Since I didn’t, blowing him off was easy.
“You heard their ambassador. We imagined the whole thing, or else the Black Circle fooled us with an illusion to fracture our alliance.” I hadn’t been privy to the conversation, held via cell phone once we were airborne, but with my hearing, eavesdropping was easy.
Louis-Cesare made a sound that, by anyone less elegant, would have been called a snort. “The Black Circle is the bête noire of the magical world, and so a convenient scapegoat. Those were no mages today.”
I didn’t say so, but I secretly agreed. Human magic had a very different feel. What I couldn’t understand was why either the mages or the Fey would concern themselves with me. Maybe I’d managed to piss off somebody important lately, but no one came to mind. The kind of creatures I hunt, most people are glad to see dead.
Louis-Cesare let the subject drop, but immediately switched to another equally annoying. “Lord Mircea has briefed me on what he knows of his brother’s tactics—”
“I very much doubt that.” I managed not to grimace. My nerves needed a break, not a reminder of how much trouble we were in. I prowled around, but it didn’t help. I still felt like my skin was on too tight.
I flipped through a stack of uninteresting magazines the steward had provided, wanting to feel them tear under my hands. It wouldn’t have been much of a loss—apparently the Senate doesn’t read Rolling Stone—but I carefully replaced them in their little rack. It had been a while since I was wound this tight, with everything an itch: the breath of air from the overhead vents, the smooth vibrations of the plane beneath my feet, the crackle of ice cubes as Louis-Cesare poured himself a couple fingers of something.
I needed a drink. Or a fight. Yeah, a good fight would be just the thing.
“Pardon?” Louis-Cesare looked irritated when I confiscated his glass, downing the stuff in a gulp. It was clear, with little smell or taste, but it could have etched metal.
“They have too much history to have laid it all out for you,” I gasped, “even if Mircea talked nonstop for the past few days. What you got was the Reader’s Digest condensed version.” And probably not even that—Drac wasn’t exactly a popular topic round the dinner table.
Louis-Cesare drew his brows together and found himself another glass. “I am a member of Lord Mircea’s family. I think I know enough to—”
“You’re a first-level master. Radu probably emancipated you ages ago.”
“That is irrelevant.” He was interrupted by the buzzing of a timer on the table by my elbow. He scowled at it. “We must discuss strategy. Lord Dracula will not be easy to find—”
I barely restrained a hysterical laugh. “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem.” I walked into the plane’s roomy bathroom. The Senate obviously didn’t hold to the idea that deprivation was good for the soul, but at least the marble and gold-plated elegance was quiet. I unwrapped the towel around my head and frowned at the result. I’d had to go with a more subtle shade than I’d have liked, since the drugstore at the airport had had a limited supply of dye. It wasn’t a true purple, more of a black with aubergine highlights. Maybe it would brighten when it dried. If this was going to be my last hurrah, I wanted to go out looking good.
I reentered the main cabin after rinsing off and combing my short hair. “Would you kindly stop doing that?” Louis-Cesare’s voice was his usual measured tones, but a finger was tapping crisply on the side of his glass.
“Doing what?” I felt around my jacket pockets for one of the special joints Claire makes up for me. She’s a master herbalist and although her concoction, like alcohol, has a very limited effect on me, it does soothe my temper. I had a feeling I was going to need all the help I could get not to rip my new partner’s throat out.
“Interrupting me. I would like to be able to finish a sentence.”
