“I think it takes a while. You have to remove the skull and then boil it . . .” I trailed off, because Louis-Cesare was looking at me funny.
“Damn.” Scarface cocked his head. “Then again, I could take it like this. Think I’ll intimidate an opponent?”
“You scare the hell out of me,” I told him truthfully.
That seemed to have been the right answer. Scarface laughed, clapped Louis-Cesare on the shoulder and somersaulted off the balcony, his grisly trophy bouncing against his thigh. I waited until he’d passed through the front door and went to retrieve my own.
Ray had ended up wedged in a corner by the back door. He had a muddy boot print across his face and one of his fangs had broken off. But other than that, he seemed okay.
“We got a bond now?” he demanded.
“Getting there.”
I tucked his head under my arm and went hunting for the rest of him. I was trying to haul his body out of a heap of broken furniture when Louis-Cesare came back. “They are not there,” he told me. “The rooms are disturbed, as if they were awakened abruptly, but there is no one anywhere above us.”
My breath came out in a sigh of relief. There was a huge hole in the floor, another in the wall where the pantry had been, and then there were the missing stairs. No way had anyone slept through that. If he’d found anything, it wouldn’t have been good news.
“I also cannot sense them,” he said, listening.
Neither could I, now that I concentrated. There were no shuffling footsteps, no telltale heartbeats, no frightened breathing. Just the ancient fridge dumping some ice cubes, the soft sounds of tea being brewed and the pounding of the rain.
“Perhaps they returned to Faerie,” Louis-Cesare said.
“Maybe.” But that didn’t sound right. Claire had been pretty adamant about not returning without that damned stone, and anyway, she’d have just been stepping right back into the mess she’d fled.
Of course, betweensubrand and a palace full of assassins, I knew which one I’d choose.
There was probably another explanation, but I couldn’t think of it just then. I was feeling a little dizzy now that the adrenaline had bled away, and the lack of a meal in something like fourteen hours had given me the shakes. And Ray was caught on something, and one-handed I couldn’t seem to—
Louis-Cesare tugged him out and set him on his feet, and accidentally bumped my injured wrist. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. “What is it?”
“My wrist.”
“You never told me what was wrong with it,” he said, cradling it in one large hand.
“subrand,” I said simply. “He broke it last night, too.”
Louis-Cesare paused, but he didn’t say anything. And after a moment, I felt warmth slide through the damaged tissue, wrapping the bones in a web of power that, whether it helped the healing process or not, felt damned good. I could still feel the throb in the injury with every heartbeat, but it was distant, manageable. I’d get it bound up in a few minutes, but for right now, this would work.
“Thanks.”
He didn’t reply, just pulled me against him. His hand was in my hair, his heartbeat under my ear, and it was oddly soothing. What was even more so was the fact that he was still in one piece. I wasn’t sure how, but I’d take it.
There were about a hundred things I needed to do right then, but for a moment, I just stood there. My wrist was throbbing, my legs felt weak as water and a massive headache was building behind my right eye. But he was warm and his shirt was soft and he smelled so damn good. I felt my whole body relax.
He didn’t say anything, but his arms tightened. And despite strict orders to the contrary, my eyes slipped closed. All at once, I just wanted to curl up and—
“Well, this is cozy,” Ray said, from under my arm.
Louis-Cesare pulled back with a sigh just as the door banged open and Christine stumbled in. Her pink silk gown was liberally streaked with mud, and the priceless lace was a soggy mess. She was dragging a couple of mud-covered suitcases and muttering something under her breath. She didn’t even appear to notice us, just dropped the suitcases near a body, turned and went out again.
Louis-Cesare looked after her, his face blank. “What is Christine doing here?”
“She said you told her to go with me.”
“She said—” He stopped, his jaw tightening. “I believe she misunderstood.”
“If you aren’t here for her, why are you here?”
“Because ofsubrand,” he said, like that should in any way be obvious.
“How did you know he was going to attack?”
“He attacked last night, but did not achieve his objective. Why should he not return?”
“You skipped out on your murder trial on the chance he might show up?” I asked incredulously.
He frowned. Apparently, that hadn’t been the response he’d expected. “It appears fortunate that I did.”
“You’re supposed to be facing the Senate right now! What are you planning to tell them?”
“Nothing. There is no point. Whatever I say, the outcome has already been decided.”