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Because Mircea walked out at her side.
Radu was with him, a hand on his arm, despite the fact that nobody else had a servant on the balcony. And nobody said anything about his being there, which was just as well, ’cause Radu wasn’t taking any shit. The beautiful mask was back, in all its breathtaking perfection. But the expression…the expression said, I don’t care who you are, touch my brother and I rip your face off.
And one look at Mircea told me why.
He settled onto the Senate seat to the consul’s right, looking more than a little delicate. It was nothing I could put a name to—the sleek hair, the expensive tux, the family-crest cuff links were all the same and were all perfect. But his face was drawn and his eyes were pained as he looked down at me, and there was a strange expression on his face: defiance and fierce pride and something that looked like wonder, all jumbled up.
And suddenly, I wanted to stab Lawrence all over again.
I killed him for you, I thought, staring upward.
“I know.”
The consul took her seat last, which seemed backward to me, but what do I know about high court protocol? Or much of anything else, like what the hell I was doing here. I really wished they’d hurry up and tell me about whatever-it-was, because I really, really needed to sit down. Or kneel. Or just fall on my face on the shiny, shiny marble.
I look a little rough, I thought, staring at my reflection in the floor.
Damn, what did they polish it with to get it to look like—
Someone cleared her throat, and I looked up, blinking. And saw the consul staring down at me. At least, I guessed so, since there didn’t seem to be anybody else around.
Suddenly, it got very, very quiet.
I licked my lips, wondering if I was in trouble. I couldn’t actually remember doing anything…well, so bad. Of course, the way my head felt, God only knew what I’d forgotten. I wondered if I’d accidentally offed any good guys. Like maybe somebody the consul was fond of. Because she was looking a little…fierce…and not in the usual supermodel kind of way. But in the I-might-hang-the-lot-of-you kind of way, and that probably wasn’t a great—
“STOP.”
The sound echoed through my head like a spoken voice. Like the consul’s voice, only I didn’t think she did that mental stuff. Unless it was with another high-ranking vamp and, of course, that let me out. But maybe somebody was giving her a boost, or maybe I was just hallucinating. And really, I wouldn’t put it past me right—
“Dorina, please.”
That was Mircea. Looking half amused, half appalled, which was weird. Because his expression never gave that much away. But then, he didn’t usually get his brain Roto-Rootered either, so—
“You’re projecting.”
I stopped, blinking. Was I? Huh.
I didn’t know I could do—
“I find myself in an unprecedented situation,” the consul said grimly, speaking aloud. “Before me stands a dhampir, one long regarded by our kind as little better than a revenant. Powerful, but incapable of being controlled by a master’s voice, and subject to rages that threatened the lives of countless of our Children. Such creatures were hated, mocked and often put down on sight.”
I bit my lip. Shit. Whatever I did must have been a real—
“But last night,” the Consul forged ahead, glaring at me, “this outcast fought and almost died in our defense, while many of our supposed supporters stood aside and did nothing. She came here to warn us of our enemies’ plans, despite the risk to herself in doing so. She found a way into their stronghold, which none of our people managed. She helped a small group of our loyal”—the stress on the word was vicious—“servants to close the breach our enemies had created through our defenses. And then she killed, in mental combat, the traitor who had made much of this possible.”
A rustling had gone around the room at the “mental combat” comment; I wasn’t sure why. But Ming-de, seated with the other consuls in solitary splendor to the left of the balcony, suddenly sat forward. The long, jeweled nail covers she wore made a small sound on the marble balustrade as she looked over at me.
And smiled.
A chill ran up my spine hard enough to make me flinch.
Luckily, nobody noticed because the consul was speaking again.
“It has occurred to us that the traditional understanding of the dhampir being may have been…flawed. It has been suggested that, perhaps, instead of being half human and half vampire, as was always believed, they are instead two creatures in one: a fully human consciousness residing alongside a fully vampire one.”
And okay, that got the attention of the crowd. It didn’t get mine, at least not as much as it deserved, because I suddenly felt metal-tipped nails gliding gently, gently through my hair, and over my skull. And then through it, as if they could stroke the brain matter itself. I felt like shuddering, but didn’t get the chance before a slash of crimson splattered across my vision, and the nails were rapidly withdrawn.
I blinked, and put a hand to my forehead, expecting to find myself bleeding profusely. But there was nothing there. Nothing except clammy skin and sweaty hair, which went pretty well with the tiny tremors my body had started making.
