I jumped over the side of the car, ignoring—like everyone else—the magically enhanced voice telling us to remain calm and in position. The Boogie Board broke my fall, and the momentum of my landing pushed it off on a long glide toward the bottom of the stands. I was congratulating myself on finding a fast way off the bleachers when a sudden updraft flipped the board, leaving me dangling upside down as I careened over the driveway.
My sweat-slick fingers lost their grip about the same time that a truck flew by underneath. I dropped to the bed, then used it as a platform to launch myself at the bumper of a passing patrol car that was screaming toward the house. I rode it past a couple of wide-eyed guards and straight into the private courtyard.
Of course, I didn’t get any farther. Unlike Elyas, the consul didn’t believe in taking chances with her front line of defense. The guard who snatched me out of the air was at least a second-level master, and I strongly suspected his buddy of being a first. I wasn’t going anywhere.
Until providence intervened in the form of panicked humanity. The expensive race cars were suddenly not the only vehicles on the track, as people who couldn’t get out the main gates started cutting corners. Half a dozen plowed through the air overhead and swerved around the house, heading for the road and the ley line running through it.
One rusted El Camino clipped the plaster as it tore past the side of the house, sending a cloud of particles into the air and exposing the raw brickwork below. The vamp holding me swore. I could practically hear his thoughts. If a sideswipe could do that, what would a head-on collision do? Particularly if the car had a full gas tank.
I suddenly became a lot less interesting. As far as he was concerned, I was merely a frightened human. He thrust me and a set of magical cuffs into the arms of a young servant who was hovering under the impressive Roman-style portico, out of the sun. Then he and his buddy took off after the floating battering rams.
The young vamp had soft brown hair that brushed his shoulders, soft blue eyes and soft pink lips that didn’t completely hide glistening fangs. They were out because he was hungry. At his level, he should have been in a safe room somewhere, dreaming of plump pink wrists. But it looked like it was all hands on deck for the races, and at his power level, that meant a heavy drain on his resources.
He clearly thought a snack was in order. He smiled gently as he reached for me. “Don’t worry; this won’t hurt.”
I smiled back. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it will.”
A moment later, the stunned vamp’s arms were cuffed around one of the support pillars, and I was through the front door. There were no wards, as I’d half expected; I suppose with all the people coming and going from the races, it would have been impossible to keep them up. But it seemed odd that the consul, who wasn’t known for taking chances, would forgo such an elementary—
It hit me suddenly, like a punch to the gut, sending me staggering into a wall. Not a ward or a weapon, but a massive sense of presence. I’d been around vampires all my life, but not hundreds, not senior-level masters, not all together under one roof. My vampire sense almost blew my head off.
Of course she didn’t need wards, I thought, clutching the wall for support. Who the hell was going to walk into that? Only I had, and damned if I was going to turn tail and run because of a feeling, no matter how uncomfortable.
But if I wasn’t going to run, I had to move. The baby vamp must have called for help by now, and I was standing in the main damn hallway. Horatiu couldn’t have missed me, much less the kind of guards the consul kept on hand. And there was no Mircea around to tell anyone that this was one dhampir they shouldn’t kill.
Just breathing was hard enough; actually going anywhere sounded absurd. The very air felt thick and heavy in my lungs, like a couple extra atmospheres were suddenly pressing down from above. My breathing was ragged and my feet felt like they weighed at least a ton each. Merely staying upright was a struggle.
Just get to the next room, I told myself sternly. It’s a couple of yards, that’s all. Then you can face-plant onto the nice marble floor.
I don’t know how I got there; I have no memory of moving at all. But suddenly, I was staggering into what looked like an armory, with long curtain-draped windows along one side and glass cases full of weapons lining the other. And face-planting was definitely out.
A couple of male servants were sitting at a table, polishing some of the implements. If those were for tonight’s challenge, it didn’t look like anyone was fooling around. There wasn’t a practice sword in the bunch. Since I didn’t want any of them used on me, I staggered on through without stopping.