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“At two years old?” Because that was what father had been, at least in vampire terms in 1449. He should have had trouble defending himself, much less . . .
I looked up again, and shuddered.
Hassani smiled. “He was always very clever, your father, and sometimes, that is more useful than power.”
I crossed my arms. “Is there a reason you’re telling me all this?”
“Yes, in fact. I—”
Hassani stopped suddenly, and cocked his head, as if listening to someone. Which he probably was. Vamps’ ability to communicate mentally with members of their family, or in the case of someone as powerful as Hassani, with virtually any vampire, was one thing that made them so deadly.
I waited it out, my arms wrapped aroun
d myself, and that horrible, decaying stench in my nose. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t have had this conversation upstairs. I didn’t understand why we had to have it at all. Old vamps liked to be mysterious, and centuries of having people kowtow to them hadn’t helped encourage them to get to the damned point already. But I really wished he’d hurry up.
I’d been in some creepy ass places before, but this one was really starting to get to me. And I wasn’t alone. I glanced back at Lantern Boy to find him looking miserable, his mouth turned down and his eyes darting here and there, as if anticipating an attack.
And then widening in apparent horror, as if witnessing one.
I looked quickly back at Hassani, expecting I don’t know what.
But there was nothing happening. The consul still looked a little zoned out, but perfectly fine. Until he suddenly reached out and touched the shed skin.
Lantern Boy made a sound and I sucked in a breath, even though it didn’t make sense. Whatever this thing had been, it was long dead now. But I still didn’t like him touching it.
Hassani, however, seemed to like it fine. He rubbed a bit of the brittle skin between his fingers for a moment, then crushed it in his fist. Lantern Boy gave a bleat of terror and fled, while I just stood there, frozen in place. But Hassani wasn’t done. He suddenly jerked at it, not a piece but the whole thing, and he put a master’s strength behind it. He pulled not once or twice, but over and over and over, until the entire, carefully displayed snakeskin was on the floor and broken into pieces.
I joined Lantern Boy in the creepy, scratched up antechamber, mainly because I couldn’t breathe in the burial chamber anymore. Pieces of ancient god fluttered through the air and dusted my lungs, even out here. While inside . . .
I didn’t know what the hell was going on inside.
There was a noise, which I thought was a cough. But it kept going and going, and gaining in strength until it echoed loudly around the chamber. And even then, it took me a moment to identify it, because it was so strange under the circumstances.
But yes, I realized.
Hassani was laughing.
“I was so afraid of you!” he yelled. “So afraid! And look at you now! Dead and dusted and gone, like all the gods’ children, while ours—ours are still here. Who inherits the Earth now, you bastard? Who rules now?”
There was no answer, unless you counted Hassani’s own devilish cackling. The kid and I looked at each other, and then back at the boss, who had found a piece of snake skin he liked and was holding it to the lantern flame. And shit!
The dry old stuff went up like a torch, but Hassani didn’t drop it. He wrapped the end in a piece of his robe and shook the heavily burning taper around the room, giggling like a madman as he did so. Soon, the whole place was burning.
Flames ran up the walls, finding pieces of shed skin that I hadn’t even noticed, and forming garlands of fire. It ate across the huge skin on the floor, making it twist and writhe as it was consumed, as if, in its last moments, it lived once more. The fire consumed the main part of the skin, then swept the ground, setting all the smaller pieces aflame, too.
And threatening Hassani himself.
I turned to Lantern Boy, because it was definitely save-the-boss time, but he had clearly had enough. He must have understood some English, or perhaps he just decided that the consul had gone crazy, and the better part of valor was called for. He ran.
I, unfortunately, did not have that option. I was a shitty ambassador, but allowing a consul and ally to die on my watch was a bit much. Not to mention that I had no idea how to get out of here alone. This place was huge; I could end up wandering around for days.
So, I womaned the hell up, threw an arm over my face and went to rescue a possibly crazy and certainly disturbed master vamp.
Which is when things got weird.
Chapter Eleven
Dory, Cairo
