But you also know what he can’t.
Which is why I came off the wall with a roar that scattered people in front of me, like a school of fish parting when a shark swims by. It would have been interesting another time, to catalogue the different reactions: young vampires spilling drinks on themselves in shock, or sinking to the floor in horror. Older, mid-level vamps, all but disappearing through doors and stairways, melting into the darkness, going dim. And then there were the oldest ones, bright, bright, so incredibly bright, their power eclipsing that of the others around them, wherever they were standing.
They did not run. They did not hide. But they also did not attack, holding back, seeing what I would do.
And looking vaguely surprised when I passed them by, uninterested.
For I was after something else, something deadlier than any of them, something I’d encountered before. Something that was still attacking: cutting, harsh and cruel. But not enough.
This time, I would have it. This time, I would kill it. But I had to find it first.
And it was no longer riding the woman I’d seen earlier. I found her, looking wide-eyed and shell-shocked, being supported by two others. So my prey wasn’t just riding, then, but controlling.
Who was it controlling now?
I didn’t know, and it was getting harder to concentrate. The creature knew I was hunting it, but wasn’t concerned, was laughing at me, and sending static from all sides now. I couldn’t see anything but leering vampire faces; couldn’t hear anything above the static’s awful roar; couldn’t use my inner eye, not with the massive crowd everywhere, hiding the one I needed to see. There were so many voices—
Until I screamed, the psychic shock waves spreading across the room like a scythe through wheat. Vampires, mages, human servants—they all went down. All except two. The vampire queen, standing still and terrible at the top of her dais, and the man suddenly running at her from across the room.
I had no weapons, and there was no time to get inside his head. I saw the queen glance at me as I started to run, not for her but for the creature clothed in the flesh of a man. I failed to reach him, but not because I was too slow. But because I was thrown backward, not slapped this time but belted, so hard and so fast that I hit the wall again, a dozen yards away, before I could blink. And the jolt of the blow—
* * *
*
Put me back in charge.
But the tag team handoff was a little abrupt, like me face-planting onto the nice marble floor when I bounced off the wall. It left me feeling like a punching bag that somebody had beaten all the stuffing out of at the gym. I somehow managed to get my shaky arms underneath me, to raise my head—
And then just stayed there, blinking in confusion, as what looked like a desert storm blew up in the middle of the room. It engulfed the man leaping at the queen, which would have been strange enough, because that’s not something you see every day. But then the whirling winds hardened into what looked like a shell of earth, a large globe behind which another storm broke with blinding fury.
I saw what looked like a hundred spells hit the sides of the shell, all at once, in bursts of color and light. Saw the consul blink, a tiny thing, a half expression. Saw her power spike as she fought to keep the fury contained. And heard Dorina tell me that she couldn’t sustain that level for long.
No shit, I thought back groggily.
I’d no sooner had the thought than the great shield cracked and buckled and shattered, exploding in a thousand pieces that lashed my face, even this far away. I saw something fall out of the other side, in swirls of dissipating magic. Saw it crash against the bottom steps of the dais and shatter like glass. Realized that it was the man, who was nothing but a collection of charred bones now.
The sand-laced winds had scoured him clean.
The consul was untouched, but not unscathed. I saw her stagger back against her throne, and the fact that she’d actually show weakness told me what the man had been carrying. Those explosions must have been caused by more of the superweapons we’d encountered, hundreds of them, enough to leave even a consul vulnerable.
And somebody was prepared to take advantage of it.
Through half a dozen doors, vampires surged into the room, all but flying at the dais. But they weren’t wearing the clothing of just one family. They weren’t from a single clan, and several were from competing ones. Which told me that this wasn’t—
—a normal assassination. They were being—
—controlled, by that creature who had attacked us at Claire’s—
—and who was here, riding someone new—
—but who? There was no way to know—
—except it wouldn’t be one of the controlled, lest we attack them and the creature lose its focus—
—but there was no one else! No one still conscious—
—no one except—
My eyes widened.
And then I grabbed the knife my last assailant had dropped, jumped up and threw—
Straight at the consul.
Chapter Forty-seven
This time, I woke up alone.
The bed was the same as before, so I was still at the consul’s. Oh goody. Even better, someone was bitching.
“—don’t care! I need to talk to her!”
Oh, damn it all to hell. I threw an arm over my face, because that was Marlowe and seriously? I hadn’t lived an exactly perfect life, but what had I done to deserve this?
I lay there for a while, contemplating various vile things I could do to the consul’s stooge. But I honestly wasn’t up to any of them, and repressed aggression would only give me a headache. I got up.
And discovered that I still had no clothes, other than for my bandages. I looked everywhere, but couldn’t find any, not even Louis-Cesare’s trousers. So I wrapped myself in a blanket and peeked out the door.
A couple vamps were there, lounging against the wall, apparently enjoying watching Marlowe have a fit down the hall. Until they saw me. And suddenly stood to attention, like soldiers when an officer walks by.
I blinked groggily at them.
“Uh.”
They didn’t say anything. I got the impression that they were waiting for me to continue my thought, which would have worked better if I’d had one. As it was, we all just stood there, them at what looked like parade rest and me swaying slightly until I grabbed hold of the door.
And acquired a thought.
“Clothes,” I croaked, and to my surprise, one of the guys all but disappeared.
I watched him flee down the hall and frowned. I was pretty sure I’d just said “clothes,” not “I’m going to kill you horribly,” but I wasn’t sure. My head had the fuzzy feeling of a ten-day bender, and right then, I wasn’t sure of anything.
I considered talking to Guy Number Two, but was afraid I’d scare him as well.
“Um,” I said tentatively.
Guy Number Two stayed in place.
So far, so good.
“So. Could you tell me what—”
I stopped, but not because he’d run away. But because somebody else had heard me and shoved his way past Guy Number Three down the hall. “Damn it! I told you to tell me the moment she was awake!”
That was Marlowe, striding this way.
At least, he was until something amazing happened.
Like, seriously amazing.
Like, I actually rubbed my eyes amazing, since I was obviously hallucinating.
What I thought I saw was Guy Number Two—a tall dude who could have been a James clone except for pointier teeth and less hair—put out his arm and place a hand on Marlowe’s chest, stopping him.
Now, half the time Marlowe goes around in Elizabethan slops like a nutcase, and the rest he’s wearing whatever wreck he’s made of his family’s latest effort to dress him like a person so he doesn’t embarrass the hell out of them. Again. However, it’s a case of looks being deceiving, because he is a first-level master and a Senate member.