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The phone rang. I put it to my ear automatically, not even checking first. And, of course, it was Mircea.
“Dorina?”
Wrong number, I thought, half hysterically, and didn’t say anything.
“Dorina?”
His voice was as mellifluous as always. He could do wonders with that voice. Could charm emperors and kings with that voice. Could persuade master vampires into agreements they didn’t want at all, which was a lot harder than talking to kings.
“Dorina?” It was becoming more insistent.
“Sorry. Butt dial,” I whispered, and hung up.
I sat there some more. I felt dizzy, in limbo, uncharacteristically numb. I didn’t know what to do.
Not that it was up to me, or to Mircea, either. For the first time, the ball was in Dorina’s court. She could do what she wanted, and I couldn’t blame her for whatever she chose. Like I couldn’t blame her anymore for the life we’d lived. Or for the life I’d lived, I corrected, which suddenly seemed like paradise in comparison.
So now what? The thought left me feeling sick and worried, and seriously off-balance. She hadn’t banished me, but I wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not. She might be testing these new waters, making sure that the mental tie we had wouldn’t drag her off along with me.
Or maybe she didn’t intend to do anything at all. It wasn’t like she needed to risk it. As she’d demonstrated twice now, she could emerge whenever she chose, and wrestle control away from me, because she’d always been stronger. And that was with the wall still partially up. What would happen when the last pieces fell?
What would happen when she could trap me in the same hell that she’d been forced to endure, or banish me entirely?
I turned the phone back on and punched in a different number. Because if I couldn’t talk to Dorina, I needed to talk to someone who knew her. And better than Mircea seemed to.
“Hello?”
“Uh, hello. I’d like to speak to Horatiu, please.”
“And who may I say is calling?”
I sighed, because this never went well. Mircea’s masters were better than most, better than the ones at the Senate, who usually hissed at me unless Daddy was around, but it was a matter of degree. Mircea’s masters looked like they wanted to hiss, but were manfully holding back because they had better breeding than that.
Unlike me.
“Dory,” I snapped, because didn’t he have caller ID? “And I don’t want a problem, okay? I just want to talk—”
“Lady Dorina, is that you?”
I paused, and looked at the phone. Not because of the words, which could have been sarcasm, but because of the tone. The guy, whoever it was, had sounded . . . delighted.
“Uh. Yeah.”
“How wonderful to hear from you!”
I stared at the phone some more. I resisted an impulse to shake it. And then I did it anyway, because happy little burbling noises were coming out of it and freaking me out.
“Can I speak to Horatiu?” I finally cut in.
The burbling stopped. And was replaced by a gushing, apologetic vamp explaining to me what I should have already known, because Horatiu wasn’t a master. He was barely even a vampire, since Mircea hadn’t gotten around to changing the old man until he was on his deathbed, and those sorts often don’t take properly. Leaving the family with a doddering, mostly deaf, and almost completely blind vampire, who because of Mircea’s huge fondness for him could do whatever the hell he wanted.
Including sleep in.
“What time does he usually get up?” I almost yelled, to be heard over the effusions of joy that speaking to me had apparently brought to this vamp’s life.
There were a lot of them.
“Thank you!” I finally yelled. “Tell him I’ll be by later.”
