“Come to my senses?”
“To help protect him. It is the only intelligent way to proceed.”
“How exactly is letting Drac run free intelligent?” I demanded.
Louis-Cesare’s eyes narrowed. “He will be caught eventually. It is only a matter of time with the forces the Senate currently has in the field.”
“Except they aren’t gunning for him.”
“He has shown a lack of judgment in the past, a reputation borne out by his current alliance. He cannot help but run foul of the Senate before long.”
“That’s one theory.” And not one I shared. People had been underestimating Drac for centuries. He might be crazy, but he had the Basarab cunning and was utterly ruthless about how he used it. Not a good combo. “But then, you gotta wonder why, if the Senate can deal with him, Mircea went to the trouble of drafting us.”
“He hopes to end this before his brother spills more innocent blood.”
“And you don’t care about that?”
“Radu’s blood is also innocent!” I thought that was debatable, but didn’t say so. Louis-Cesare looked like he was getting a little heated again. So much for having a pleasant, low-key conversation.
“Why do you care so much what happens to Radu?” I asked, knowing I’d probably regret it. “Didn’t he abandon you?”
“He is also my sire!”
“And Mircea is mine. It’s never bought him a lot of slack, actually.”
Louis-Cesare gave me a condescending look. “Has it not? You are here now, in answer to his call—”
“Because of Claire!”
“—as you should be. You would not exist but for him, as I would have died centuries ago if not for Radu. We have a debt to the family.”
A little wind was playing fitfully through the trees, tossing the leaves about, but when I looked upward, I could see the stars in patches. I took a deep breath of cool night air and told myself not to overreact. “You’re confusing me with a vamp,” I said shortly. “Just because Mircea donated some sperm doesn’t mean I’m bound to him.”
“There are other ties than magic. Loyalty, obligation, love—”
“I do not love Mircea!”
“And whether you acknowledge them or not, you feel them, too. You belong by his side when he needs you.”
What I felt was a burst of anger, hot and fierce. Damn him for stirring to life that old, bitter craving, the one that wove itself around the word belong. I’d never belonged anywhere. It was the first lesson I’d ever learned, drummed into my bones and ripped into my flesh long before the infant that would become Louis-Cesare was even born. And it was the one I made sure I never forgot.
“You’ll see how much love I have for the family,” I told him savagely, “when I plant a stake in Drac’s cold, dead heart.”
“You still intend to go after him,” he asked incredulously, “even though it could mean your friend’s life?”
“He’ll come after us. I thought that was the plan.”
“Using Lord Radu as bait was your plan!”
“Which he currently is,” I pointed out.
“Dracula will never try to reach him through such defenses! I did not understand until I saw them for myself, but it is true. He is as safe here as at MAGIC.”
I didn’t feel like debating it. There were no defenses good enough to keep out Drac if he wanted in, but convincing Louis-Cesare of that would be counterproductive. And even if I felt like trying, I doubted I was up to it. Even my anger had sputtered out against the overwhelming tide of exhaustion. I stared at a flickering firefly in the grass, feeling oddly dislocated. “Whatever.”
Louis-Cesare said something else, but it sounded very far away, like he was speaking underwater. I was so tired my eyes didn’t want to focus, to the point that the firefly’s path blurred into a long, continuous neon line. And then it happened again. It was like drowning, sinking helplessly down into dark, frozen depths. But instead of water, I was floundering in a sea of memory.
I realized that the drumming sound I was hearing wasn’t my heart, but someone beating on a door. It took a moment to realize it was me. The door opened to reveal a pissed-off female vamp in a diaphanous white negligee: Augusta, a Senate member. Her outfit stayed white until I lurched into her, soaking the front of the expensive nightwear in enough blood to indicate a mortal wound. I looked down to find that I was wearing only a man’s long overcoat that was gaping open in front. Under that was a lot of blood and what looked to be half of my intestines, which I was keeping inside by pressure from the hand that hadn’t been needed for beating down the door.
“My back,” I whispered.
“I’ll fetch a doctor,” Augusta said faintly. She looked hungry, but I didn’t care. At that moment, she couldn’t have done much more damage. She dragged me over to a big bed and tried to get me to lie down.
I shook my head. “My back,” I repeated.