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I could see her in my mind’s eye, not here but somewhere close, seated on a dais in the midst of a crowd of her creatures. Silks fluttered, satins gleamed, vampires talked and laughed and moved around her, but I barely saw. Didn’t care.
How can you see the stars when the sun is out?
“—no bloody idea!” That was one of the people around the fire. There were five in all: Radu, a woman in a glittery blouse, the dark-haired master from the fight, another master vampire I didn’t know, and the human man who’d spoken. They seemed to be arguing.
“Then take a guess!” The dark-haired master appeared agitated. He was the only one standing, with an arm on the mantel when he wasn’t striding around the room. He was strong enough to sense my presence, even with precautions, but too distracted to care.
“I can’t!” the man spat. “It’s absurd!”
He was a mage; I could smell the magic on him. His voice boomed around the room as he sat forward, arguing animatedly with a creature who could silence him between one heartbeat and the next. But he wouldn’t.
The vampire wanted something.
“Don’t lie to me!” He was bending over the man now. “I know what you do, in those labs of yours. You experiment on everything! You’re telling me you’ve never—”
“That is what I’m telling you. And get out of my face, vampire!”
“Uncle . . .” That was the glittery woman. She was the healer I’d detected in the bedroom. I could just discern her scent over the smell of the fire, and the cologne her relative wore. He was still in dirty clothes, fine evening wear smeared with dust. He had been at the fight, too, then.
“Don’t ‘uncle’ me,” he told her. “I came here for you, even after everything, and now I’m being bullied!”
“No one can bully you.”
“Well he’s damned well trying!”
I was following their conversation, but it was almost background noise. I was more interested in the queen, or more accurately, in her power. It was astonishing—and strange. The strangest I’d ever encountered.
Most masters have a constant level of power. They can call up more in an emergency, from their own reserves or those of their Children. But normally, they display an average that allows you to guess at their abilities.
Not this one.
I watched the aura around her shrink and expand, shrink and expand, but not like breathing. It was wild, uneven, capricious. Instead of being smooth, it spiked and dipped, ebbed and flowed, in a pulsing, jittering rhythm. At its height, I could not have touched her. I doubted anyone could. But at its depth . . .
At its depth, I could have her.
Our eyes met, and a small smile flirted with her lips. “It would be . . . unwise . . .” she informed me, lighting a cigarette.
And, suddenly, I was back in my head, panting and confused, from what felt like a mental slap.
“—wanted to, how would we obtain any?” The mage was asking. “We’ve experimented with fey flora, now and again—even use some of it on the regular. They have a root that’s a damned good stabilizing agent, better than anything we had before. But their bones? Are you mad?”
“You’re saying you can’t get them?” The dark-haired master sounded skeptical.
“I’m saying I haven’t tried! I’m not a murderer—or an idiot. The Light Fey—”
“I didn’t say anything about the Light Fey. I don’t expect you to go hunting the highborn, but some of the Dark? The type nobody would miss? You’re telling me—”
“I’m through telling you anything!” The man was on his feet now, and furious. I felt his heart rate spike, saw the flex of his fing
ers at his waistline. They must have taken his weapons before letting him in here.
Probably just as well.
“Uncle, please—” That was the glittery woman, who had put down her drink to jump up and grab his arm.
“Perhaps I should summon Lord Mircea?” the other vampire asked.
“I don’t need Mircea!” the dark-haired master snapped. “I need answers—and I will have them!”
