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“Dory?” Louis-Cesare peered at me blearily, from over the side of the bed.
It was the consul’s, or at least one owned by her, because we were in her house in upstate New York. The ants-on-skin feel of the place, the result of my dhampir senses being assaulted by the presence of hundreds if not thousands of vampires, all at once, was unmistakable. It literally made me want to scratch my skin off, and Dorina . . .
What the hell would she make of a place like this?
Shit.
Why did I think I knew?
“Dory?” Louis-Cesare said again, looking at me strangely.
I sat up, trying to ignore the taste of whatever my counterpart’s avatar had just found in a dark corner. It wasn’t going so well. And now it was on the trail of something else, scurrying about in the dust, because housecleaning was not a priority in secret passageways.
“Dory?”
“I’m fine.” I looked around. “Have you seen some clothes?”
“What clothes?”
“Any clothes!”
Louis-Cesare caught my arm. “What is wrong?”
For a moment, I didn’t answer, because I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t supposed to be able to do this, to feel Dorina when she was away, to know what she was doing. Except for that moment at the end of the car chase with Caedmon, when I’d had that terrible split-screen view of the world.
I didn’t have it now, but I had something.
“Dory, talk to me!”
“This might sound a little weird,” I warned him.
“Trust me, it already does.”
Louis-Cesare was looking at my nose. I grabbed it. It was snuffling again.
Goddamn it!
“I think there’s a chance Dorina plans to kill the consul,” I told him quickly.
“What?”
“I told you it was going to sound weird!” I broke away.
Louis-Cesare’s pants were on the back of a chair. I pulled them on. And then pulled them off again, because I’d do a Marlowe in the damned things and break a leg! Damn it, I didn’t have time for this!
I settled for a sheet, wrapped it sarong-style, and headed for the door.
“Wait.” Louis-Cesare was suddenly beside me, which wasn’t a problem. And leaning on the door, which was. “Explain this to me.”
“I already did!”
“Explain it to me again.”
“I don’t have time!”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
I looked at him. He should have been in bed. He had healing scars all over his body, and even a few seeping wounds. I could smell the blood, thick and strong, under all the bandages.
