Midnight's Daughter

I glared up at him. “Claire has been missing for more than a month.”


“What does that have to do—”

“She exerts a dampening effect on my fits. Without her, my control is slipping. Fast. Now let me up!”

He paused, but his eyes held what looked like genuine compassion, the earlier humor dissipating in the face of my distress. After a moment, he reached for the restraints. “I did not realize that the woman was so important—,” he began; then both of us swiveled toward the door. I’d been so distracted that I hadn’t heard it open, but the cooler wash of air from the hall had gotten my attention.

“I hate to interrupt,” Radu said, “but I was wondering if either of you did anything to cause the wards to fail just now?”





Chapter Nineteen


“My lord… I can explain—,” Louis-Cesare began, looking less than certain that he could do anything of the kind.

Radu held up a hand. “I am sure there is a perfectly good reason why my niece is naked and tied to her bed. I am also equally certain that I do not wish to hear it.”

Louis-Cesare’s hands fumbled a little, but they managed to get my wrists loose. I snatched up my jeans. “What’s wrong with the wards?”

“They went down a few—” Radu stopped as the windows abruptly darkened, almost like night had decided on an encore. “Well, that’s not right,” he said crossly.

I got to the windows a half second before Louis-Cesare. The view wasn’t encouraging. The sky boiled with greenish black clouds, laced through with silver streaks. The air pressure built in palpable waves, like a snake drawing its coils in closer and closer. A flash hit a decorative planting of three palms near the driveway, splitting one in half. The reverberation rocked the floor, sending vibrations up through my feet straight into my skull.

“This isn’t the right time of year for storms,” Radu was saying behind me. I didn’t answer, being too busy watching shadows shift in the vineyards beyond the house. Dark shapes unfurled leathery wings like tattered cloth in a breeze. Cold little pinpricks started running up and down my spine.

“’Du—when you say the wards fell, which ones exactly did you mean?” The shapes converged on the house, sweeping toward the window with the heavy wingbeat of large black birds. Below, I could hear something scrabbling with swordlike claws for purchase on the stucco.

“Why, all of them.” He moved closer to see what had caught my attention. “They’re on a common power source. I—”

A birdlike head on a serpentine neck smashed into the window, the glass distorting its face into a grinning rictus. Radu stumbled back with a small cry. The head disappeared and a talon-ended claw smashed through the window, reaching past me to grab at him. I beat at the thing with a bedside lamp, but it bounced off the leathery appendage without even leaving a dent, sending a throbbing pain up my arm to my shoulder.

Louis-Cesare grabbed the thing’s leg and jerked it inward. Its wings stuck in the space between the window and the small cast-iron balcony beyond, keeping it from advancing. It also blocked its buddies from getting inside—at least for the moment. I got a good look into its greenish yellow eyes, but only animal intelligence looked back. I wondered where the smart one was.

Louis-Cesare had spun Radu out of reach. “You must raise the wards—quickly!”

“That will trap us in here with them!” The thing in the window began to scream and vibrate. A look out of the small side windows explained its problem—its buddies had started to rip into it with the viciousness of a pack of wild dogs, rending the great wings as easily as black cobwebs.

“Better that than allowing them to escape into the surrounding population! They are only dumb animals—we will corral or destroy them.”

Radu shook his head, and the flash of fear over his face told me that I wasn’t the only one to have noticed something odd about a few of those experiments. I found the peasant tunic half-hidden under the bed and pulled it on. “Is there something you want to tell us, ’Du?”

He swallowed. “I can’t. The Senate—” The thing fell out of the window, screaming, released by its buddies ripping off a wing. It was immediately replaced by several others, their claws scrabbling for purchase on the delicate balcony railing, their teeth snapping as their great wings pummeled the air.

“The Senate isn’t here!” I reminded him. “It’s our butts on the line! Come on, ’Du—give.”

Karen Chance's books