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“And that was last night,” I told Zakarriyyah. Talk about holding a grudge.
“If you don’t let me—” the woman began.
“Do it,” Zakarriyyah ordered, but of course, that required somebody’s else’s approval, too, didn’t it?
“She will soon have irreversible brain damage,” the woman said, speaking slowly and distinctly to Louis-Cesare. “It is a common side effect of smoke inhalation.”
Louis-Cesare didn’t move.
“Your toys will not last much longer,” the woman said. “And then it will be out of your hands. But it may also be too late.”
“It’s okay, you can trust Zakarriyyah,” I said. “He’s a good sort.”
The vamp in question stared at me some more.
“And if you choose to kill her instead?” Louis-Cesare said viciously.
“I don’t have to kill her!” The woman struggled uselessly against his hold. “She’ll die without treatment!”
“You have me captive as well,” Zakarriyyah said slowly, still looking at me. “If your woman dies, my life is forfeit.”
That was apparently acceptable, because Louis-Cesare let the healer go. And, immediately, she was by my side. I didn’t even see her move.
Of course, there might have been a reason for that. It felt like my brain had started skipping, like a video with bad editing. Suddenly, I was on my back again on the cold stone floor, staring up at the pretty vampire’s face. She looked Egyptian, but not like modern Egyptians, who have a good deal of Arab blood from the invasion. But like a frieze off a tomb wall.
“You should be wearing pleated linen and gold in your hair,” I told her s
eriously.
“I will consider it,” she said, and put a hand on my forehead.
My brain skipped again, and I guess Louis-Cesare and Zakarriyyah had made up. The latter was no longer on the floor, and they were talking in hushed voices along with several other vamps. That included the big guy and another who could have been his twin except that he was bald and had a chest so hairy that it looked like a fur carpet had been stuffed inside his shirt. I could see it through the huge rents in his clothes that matched Kitty’s claws, but he must be pretty high ranking, as he’d already healed.
There was no problem hearing them, despite the low tones. The acoustics in here were really something. But I didn’t understand what they were saying.
“—impossible! Do I look like a necromancer to you?” That was Louis-Cesare, sounding furious.
“And we are to believe that you don’t have one on staff?” That was the big guy with hair. He had managed to lose the fake beard, only to reveal that he had a real one underneath.
“I don’t, as it happens! And if I did, I wouldn’t be using him to attack you!”
“And why should we believe you? Why should we believe anything you—”
Zakarriyyah lifted a hand. He looked at Louis-Cesare narrowly. “You say you know nothing about this?”
“Nothing. I left this morning thinking that my wife would continue the diplomatic visit here, while I traced our attackers—”
“But you came back!” The big, bald vamp looked like he thought that proved something.
“Yes, I came back.” Louis-Cesare was holding onto his temper, but you could hear it in his voice. At least, I could. And from the way the surrounding vamps, who hedged the smaller group at a safe distance, were fingering their weapons, it looked like they could, too.
We were the diplomatic dream team, I thought, and laughed.
“Try to stay still,” the healer said, her hand cool on my brow.
I tried.
“And we’re not to assume that you left to call your creature and coordinate this?” the big, bearded vamp demanded.
