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“But you could have taken it at Elyas’s,” I said, desperately trying to stall. I couldn’t catch Christine on the open streets, and headquarters was too close. By the time I made a call, she’d already be there. “You were alone with my duffel in the office while I talked to Mircea.”
“No, Raymond was there. He would have seen. But in the confusion after the fey attacked, it was easy.”
Yeah, easy. Like walking into the East Coast headquarters would be easy. Christine wasn’t a dirty dhampir or a wanted criminal. She probably wouldn’t even be challenged. And a mass of explosive like that in a large active portal—
She was right: she was clever.
There was a cascade of images in front of my eyes, and this time, they were my own. Radu in his ridiculous dressing gown; my mother, glimpsed through Mircea’s eyes, the scene suffused with a love I had never believed existed; Louis-Cesare, head thrown back in passion, fingers gripping my arms like he never wanted to let go.
And Christine, off to destroy all of it.
There was only one solution left, and it meant I was about to disappoint Louis- Cesare. But there was no other choice. If I let her leave, it was over.
I pulled a gun out of my coat; Christine didn’t even notice. She was halfway up the ladder, reaching for the manhole cover, happy and confident in her newfound purpose. And still carrying the putty in her right hand.
I didn’t even try to take cover; there was no point. If the blast didn’t kill me, Christine’s death energy would. Or the tunnel would collapse and crush me. Any way I looked at it, I wasn’t getting out of here. But at least this was something I could do. For once, I didn’t need to be stronger or faster or have better weapons in order to compete. I just had to pull a trigger.
So I did.
EPILOGUE
“I told you she was evil,” someone said as I blinked open my eyes.
I was in my bedroom. A wash of afternoon sunshine cascaded over the old sheets, turning the off-white cotton faintly yellow. A vampire sat beside my bed, and he was in yellow, too. And before my eyes focused on the face, I knew who it was. There aren’t many people, even in the vampire world, who think that daffodil-colored satin is appropriate day wear.
Radu crossed his legs and flipped over another page in the magazine he was reading—Car and Driver, ominously enough—while I checked myself out. The parts I could see poking out of a faded blue T-shirt all appeared to be functional, although most were trying to decide between a livid red and a blue- black color scheme. But I’d looked worse, and I’d certainly felt worse. And, frankly, I was grateful to be feeling anything at all.
Even if I didn’t understand it.
I pushed the extra pillow behind me and sat up. “Maybe you can clear something up for me that I’ve always wondered about,” I said, meeting those famous turquoise eyes.
“Yes?”
“Why do you insist on dressing like freaking D’Artagnan when you were born two hundred years before that?”
Radu frowned. “Formal wear in my day was robes, Dory.”
“And?”
“Nasty, long, hot, smothering robes. Good in winter, of course, but the rest of the time…”
“Vampires don’t sweat.”
“Yes, but knee pants are so much more flattering. You can see my legs.”
“You want people to see your legs?”
“I have very nice legs!” We both paused to admire them for a moment.
“Are you here to shake me down for the car?” I asked, getting it over with. “Because I don’t have three hundred thousand dollars.”
’Du’s eyes flicked over the well-worn furnishings and faded quilts. “I never would have guessed.”
“I’m not likely to have it in the future, either.”
His frown grew. “I’m not here about the car, Dory! I bought it for Gunther, in any case. I don’t drive.”
“Gunther? Your bodyguard?”
