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Mircea finally pulled back, eyes gleaming, cheeks flushed. “Why do I want to touch you so badly?” The voice turned rough. “What have you done to me?”
I thought that should be my lin
e. “I’m here to help,” I told him shakily. “You’re in danger.”
His fingers stroked along the curve of my face, slowly, tenderly, as if he were touching something far more intimate. I licked my lips, and Mircea’s eyes dropped to my mouth. “I can see that.”
“Mircea! I’m serious!”
“So we are already on a first-name basis. Good; I despise formality.” As he spoke, the geis tugged at me with a persistent, unfulfilled ache. I felt the power of his shoulders under my hands and masculine hardness against my hip. It took an incredible amount of control not to let my body arch against him, silently begging to be taken. “As you know mine, do you think I could have your name?”
I almost told him; that’s how far gone I was. Some tiny sliver of reason spoke up at the last minute, shouting a warning, and I bit my tongue to cut off the words. The pain brought me back to sanity, to the strains of a waltz and the hum of conversation.
I looked around, but all I could see beyond the orchestra was a flickering darkness studded with candle flame. The high ceiling disappeared into shadow, the only bright spots a few glints where candlelight splashed over cracking gilt in faded murals. Nearby, the two vamps had finished their meal, and surprisingly the young woman was still alive. The male vamp was giving her something to drink out of a flask, and she accepted it without hesitation. At this point, she’d probably dive headfirst off the roof if he told her.
Somewhere in all this was the problem I’d been sent to fix, and I had to concentrate if I had any hope of finding it. “It could be the woman—the one who was with you at the theatre—who’s the target,” I told Mircea. “Is she here?” It would be better to have them together, although what I was supposed to do if another master attacked them I had no idea.
One of those dark eyebrows lifted in a very familiar gesture. “Why should I tell you? I know what you are. I try to be open-minded about these things, at least when the sorceress is young, pretty and thoughtfully wears so few clothes.” He ran a single finger up my spine, dancing lightly along the vertebrae. “You have less on every time we meet—I applaud the trend.” His words were light, but his eyes were intense on my face. “But however trying Augusta may be at times, her death would be more so.”
“Then help me prevent it!”
“But are you here to prevent it? You rescued a man who slipped us poison—”
“Someone else slipped it to you! He was trying to take it away!”
“—and will not even give me your name. Yet you ask for my trust.”
“If you think I’m an enemy, why rescue me? Why not let Dmitri do his worst?”
Mircea’s mouth curled into a predatory smile. “A show of strength is often useful on these occasions, and I do not care for the man. Dmitri’s tastes are well known, and I find them . . . displeasing. Depriving him of a prize was no hardship. ” His hand smoothed down the bow of my back, and my spine turned liquid. “Now, little witch, you are going to tell me what you are doing here, and explain some very curious events at the theatre two nights ago.”
I stared at him, my mind blank. The truth was impossible if I had any hope of not messing up the timeline more than it already was, but he would smell a lie before I finished getting the words out. There was only one possibility that might work. “Take me to Augusta, and I’ll think about it.” When he hesitated, I forced a laugh. “The great Mircea, afraid of an unarmed girl!”
His lips quirked upward with slow mirth. After a moment, his expression slipped into a true grin, one that made him look years younger. He raised my hand and kissed the palm. “You are quite correct, of course. What is life without a taste of danger?” He tucked my arm into his. “Come, let us see what Augusta can make of you.”
Despite the crowded ballroom, Augusta was not difficult to find. She and another female vamp, a petite brunette, had commandeered a spot on the other side of the room and cleared a space on the floor. A crowd had gathered around them, laughing and calling out encouragement, although I couldn’t see the attraction. The two vampires appeared merely to be standing in the middle of the circle.
We stopped by the vamp in the toga. “Your Augusta is making herself very popular,” he observed.
Mircea looked pained. “She is not my Augusta,” he murmured, and the vamp laughed. He’d seemed plain before, with flyaway brown hair that looked like he went to Pritkin’s barber and a wind-chapped complexion. But laughter changed the face entirely, adding animation to the whiskey-colored eyes and charm to the expression. When he laughed, he was handsome.
“That’s not what she says.”
“As you should know better than anyone, Consul, some women are prone to exaggeration . . . and fits of temper.”
“The more passionate ones,” he agreed. “Although they are frequently worth the trouble. Speaking of passionate shrews, how is your Consul?”
“She is well. I wondered that you did not ask before.”
“Your news fair drove all else from my mind.”
“Shall I tell her so?”
That produced another chuckle. “Only if you wish to incite a war, my friend.” The vampire hadn’t so much as glanced at me, which I’d assumed was due to my status as party snack. But his eyes suddenly slid in my direction. “And who is this? Are you beginning a collection of dainty blondes, Mircea?”
The Consul smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Mircea’s grip tightened a fraction. “Are we not permitted to bring guests, Consul?”
“Guests, yes. As long as they are one of us, or human.”
