“We have a welcoming committee.”
We were maybe a third of a block from the house, so I couldn’t see them very well. But someone was there, all right. Make that a lot of someones, I thought, as more shadows broke away from the house and drifted into the street, trying to get a look at us.
Ray’s body held his head up so it could see, and the tiny eyes almost bugged out. “Shit. It’s the master.”
“Cheung?” I’d almost forgotten about him. Too bad the reverse didn’t appear to be true.
“What are you waiting for?” Ray asked, starting to sound a little frantic. “Go, go, go!”
“I can’t go,” I snapped. “Your master has a dozen guys across the driveway.”
“I didn’t mean go in,” Ray said, like I might be slow. “I meant, get us out of here.”
“I can’t do that, either.”
“Why the hell not?”
“The wards have held so far, but there’s at least a couple hours to dawn.”
“Which is a good argument for not getting trapped in there!”
“There are already people trapped in there. And Cheung has to know that. His Hounds can smell them from here.”
“Life sucks,” Ray said callously.
“It’s going to suck more for you if he takes hostages.”
“You’d give me up?”
“In a nanosecond,” I said, switching gears.
“I thought we’d developed a bond here!”
I didn’t even bother to respond to that. “Get ready to run,” I told him, just as one of Cheung’s men got close enough to recognize me. And then decision time was over.
A dozen black streaks started our way, and I floored it, aiming for the driveway and the line of vamps stretched across it. I didn’t really think I’d make it through; playing red rover with a line of masters is not a good bet. But I didn’t need to get through. I just needed to get close enough to the wards to make it inside before they caught me.
A couple of the nearest vamps grabbed the passenger door, ripping it half off its hinges. Christine screamed, which didn’t help, and her heavy trunk tumbled out on top of them, which did. But the rest of Cheung’s boys figured out where I was going and surged that way, to bolster their buddies in the drive. So I swerved at the last minute and cut across the lawn, throwing up grass and mud in my wake, and fishtailed to a stop just inside the wards.
The two vamps who had grabbed hold of the passenger door hit the invisible shield around the house head-on as we passed safely through. They were still sliming their way down it, like juicy bugs on a windshield, when several more ran forward and grabbed the left bumper of the car. It had remained just outside the wards, providing them with a convenient handle to use to drag us backward.
I hit the gas, but after days of rain and an unexpected blizzard, the front lawn had turned into a mud field. I had zero traction. I did get the satisfaction of seeing Cheung’s men completely drenched in mud, but they were going to have the last laugh if they succeeded in dragging us back out.
Christine was scrabbling at her seat belt, trying to get it undone. I tossed the duffel onto the front steps and started helping her, while keeping my foot glued to the gas pedal. I was hoping the car would dig itself far enough into the muck to buy us a few seconds, but no dice. The vamps managed to get the whole rear end out just as the seat belt finally gave way
There was no time to exit gracefully. I grabbed Christine with one hand and Ray with the other, and dragged them over the hood. We jumped free even as the car was being yanked out from under us, and landed—of course—face-first in the sea of mud. But it was a sea of mud inside the wards, and that was all that mattered.
I got to my feet, dripping in muck. The beautiful dress was ruined, and I hadn’t even gotten to wear it anywhere. And somewhere along the line, I’d lost one of the shoes.
I was royally pissed, and that was before I saw the guy coming to talk to me in my mud-slimed finery. He was wearing a suit that would have made Mircea jealous. The fine black wool fit him like a dream, the burnt orange silk tie adding just the right amount of spice. It also matched the orange-and-black tiger tat leaping from his neck to his right cheek.
And the dressing gown of the very bedraggled figure he was leading by one arm.
“Radu!” I blinked. “What the hell?”
“Yes, yes, thank you! My point exactly,” he said, obviously livid.
“You said you’d be okay.”
“I would have been, if not for this madman!” he said, struggling uselessly against his captor’s hold. No introductions were made, but then, I didn’t really need any. Radu, despite appearances, is a second-level master. Pissing him off is a very bad idea—unless you happened to be a first-level.