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His voice came out of that stillness. It was startling. "Is my touch so repulsive?"
"You smell of sickness and death."
Sabin drew his hand back inside his cloak. "I am a visiting master. It is within my rights to ask for a bit of... companionship. I could ask for you, wolf."
Cassandra growled at him.
"No one's forcing anyone into anyone's bed," I said.
"Are you so sure of that, Ms. Blake?" Sabin asked. He floated around Cassandra. The cloak brushed her, and she shuddered.
I couldn't smell him; I didn't have a werewolf's sense of smell. But I'd seen some of what was under that cloak. It was worth a shudder or two.
"Cassandra is only on loan to Jean-Claude. She belongs to the pack, so yeah, I'm sure."
Cassandra glanced back at me. "You'd protect me?"
"It's part of my job description now, isn't it?"
She studied my face. "Yes, I suppose it is." Her voice was soft, the growling like a distant dream. She looked terribly normal except for the outfit.
"You've seen what I am, Ms. Blake. Do you shudder at my touch?"
I moved down a step until I was on the floor. Better footing than the stairs. "I shook your hand earlier."
Sabin floated to the floor. The darkness faded from inside the hood. He pushed it back to reveal that golden hair and that ravaged face.
Cassandra let out a hiss. She backed up until she hit the banister. I think Sabin could have pulled a gun and shot her right that second, and she wouldn't have reacted in time.
He smiled at her. His beautiful mouth pulling the rotted flesh loose. "Have you never seen anything like this?"
She swallowed hard enough for me to hear, like she was trying not to throw up. "I've never seen anything so horrible."
Sabin turned back to me. His one eye was still a clear, pure blue, but the other had burst in the socket in a welter of pus and thinner liquid.
I did my own swallowing. "Your eye was fine yesterday."
"I told you it was virulent, Ms. Blake. Did you think I was exaggerating?"
I shook my head. "No."
His gloved hand came out of hiding once more. I remembered the way his hand had squished when I shook it yesterday. I did not want him to touch me, but there was a look in his beautiful eye, some pain on what was left of his face, that made me hold still. I wouldn't flinch. I felt sorry for him, pretty stupid, but true.
That black glove hovered beside my face, not quite touching me. The Seecamp was forgotten in my hand. Sabin's fingertips brushed my face. The glove was liquid-filled, like some kind of obscene balloon.
He stared at me. I stared back. He spread his hand over my lower jaw and pressed. There were solid things inside the glove, thicker pieces, and bone, but it wasn't a hand anymore. Only the glove gave it shape.
A small sound crawled out of my throat. I couldn't stop it.
"Perhaps I should ask for you?" he said.
I eased back out of his grip. I was afraid to move too quickly. Afraid that sudden movement might tear off the glove. I did not want to see him spill out in a flood of foul-smelling liquid. He was a horror show enough without that.
Sabin didn't try to hold me; maybe he was afraid of the same thing.
"Are you abusing my hospitality again?" Jean-Claude said. He stood on the dance floor, looking at Sabin. His eyes were pure blue light. His skin had gone pale and smooth like carved marble.
"You have not yet shown me true hospitality, Jean-Claude. It is customary to offer me companionship."
"I didn't think there was enough of you left to have such needs," Jean-Claude said.
Sabin grimaced. "It is a cruel illness. Not all of my body has rotted away. The need remains, though the vessel is so grotesque that no one will touch me, not by choice." He shook his head, and the skin split on one side. Something black and thicker than blood oozed down the side of his face.
Cassandra made a small sound. My bodyguard was about to be sick. Maybe it smelled bad to her.
"If one of my people angers me enough while you are in my territory, you may have them. But I cannot give someone to you just because you wish it. Not everyone's sanity would survive it."
"There are days, Jean-Claude, when my own sanity is in doubt." Sabin looked from Cassandra to me. "It would break your wolf, I think. But your servant, I think she would survive."
"She is off limits to you, Sabin. If you abuse my hospitality with such an insult, council edict or no council edict, I will destroy you."
Sabin turned to him. The two vampires stared at each other. "There was a time, Jean-Claude, when no one spoke to me like that, no one short of the council."
"That was before," Jean-Claude said.
Sabin sighed. "Yes, before."
"You are free to enjoy the show, but do not tempt me again, Sabin. I have no sense of humor where ma petiteis concerned."
"You share her with a werewolf but not with me."
"That is our business," Jean-Claude said, "and we will never speak of this again. If we do, it will be a challenge between us, and you are not up to it."
Sabin gave a half bow, hard to get the leverage for it without legs. "You are Master of the City. Your word is law." The words were correct. The tone was mocking.
Liv came up to stand behind and to one side of Jean-Claude. "It is time to open the doors, Master." I think that last was deliberate. Jean-Claude usually chastised his flock for calling him master.
Jean-Claude said, "Everyone to their places then." His voice sounded strangled.
"I will find a table," Sabin said.
"Do so," Jean-Claude said.
Sabin raised the hood back into place. He glided back up the stairs, headed for the tables on the upper level. Or maybe he'd just float in the rafters.
"My apologies, ma petite. I believe the sickness has progressed to his mind. Be wary of him. Cassandra is needed for the show. Liv will remain with you."
I looked at the tall vampire. "She won't take a bullet for me."
"If she fails me, I will give her to Sabin."
Liv paled, which is a neat trick for a vampire, even one that's fed. "Master, please."
"Now I believe she'll take a bullet for me," I said. If the choices were sleeping with Sabin or getting shot, I'd take the bullet. From the look on Liv's face, she agreed.
Jean-Claude left to make his entrance.
Cassandra met my eyes. She wasn't just pale, she was green. She jerked her gaze from mine as if afraid of what I'd see. "I am sorry, Anita." She went for the door she'd first entered through. She seemed embarrassed. Guess I couldn't blame her.
Cassandra had failed the bodyguard test. She was a powerful lycanthrope, but Sabin had totally unnerved her. She'd have probably been just fine if the vampire had tried violence, but he'd just stood there and rotted at her. What do you do when the monsters start being piteous?
The doors opened, and the crowd flowed in like a tidal wave, spilling in a wash of thunderous noise. I slipped the gun back into the purse but didn't shut it.
Liv was at my elbow. "Your table is over here." I went with her because I didn't want to be alone in the jostling crowd. Besides, she was suddenly taking my safety very seriously. Couldn't blame her. Sabin's diseased body was a wonderful threat.
I'd have felt better if I hadn't believed Jean-Claude would do it. But I knew better. He'd give Liv to Sabin. He really would. There was a look in the vampire's eyes that said she knew it, too.
16
The table was the largest of a string of small, black lacquer tables. It blended nearly perfectly with the black walls. My dress matched the decor. I was really going to have to look into something in a different color scheme. The table was set away from the wall, near the railing so that the growing crowd couldn't block my view of the dance floor. It also meant that my back was exposed. I had scooted my chair so that the wall was at my back, but I was very aware that the edge of the railing curved around on my right side, so that someone could walk up and shoot me, relatively hidden from anyone else.
Of course, Liv was with me. She stood at my back, arms crossed over her stomach. All she needed was a sign over her head that flashed bodyguard.
Admittedly, my purse was open. The gun was within reach, and it was tempting to put it in my lap. I was spooked, but that wasn't the point. We had a plan. The plan did not include the assassin being scared away.
I touched Liv's arm.
She bent down.
