The senate’s chief spy was a little disheveled, which wasn’t a bad look on him. Tousled brown curls, an in-need-of-a-trim goatee, a gold earring sparkling in one ear, and a rumpled, only mostly buttoned-up white dress shirt left him halfway between Renaissance bad boy and Captain Jack Sparrow. Only both of those versions were more fun.
“Perhaps we should postpone,” he muttered, to his other, not so genially smiling companion. Or to be exact, his frowning-slightly-in-annoyance companion, which she still managed to make look good.
The consul of the North American Vampire Senate was a golden-skinned, sloe-eyed, dark-haired beauty with a fondness for completely over-the-top dress. She’d toned it down today, maybe in consideration of the state of her house, to an Indiana Jones cosplay consisting of a pair of skintight brown leather pants, matching boots, a white silk “blouse” that revealed more than it covered, and two huge diamond studs in her ears—as in, Hollywood starlets had smaller engagement rings. Because we couldn’t take this peasant thing too far, could we?
“Is Mircea here?” I asked Marlowe, since I was slightly more likely to get a response from him.
“He was delayed. Family matter. He’ll be here shortly.”
“Thank you.” I looked at Adra. “Could I have a word?”
“Certainly.”
We moved off. “Can you do a silence spell?”
“I believe I can manage.”
I felt it click shut behind us, but I kept my back to Marlowe just in case. I looked up, and found Adra totally expressionless. Enough to leave me blinking, and staring at something completely masklike, with no signs of life at all.
Which gave the nondescript, faintly pleasant features the quality of a doll in a horror film as it slowly turns to look at you.
“My apologies,” he said as life flowed back into the mask. “That’s the problem with glamouries, if you aren’t human. You have to remember to animate them all the time. Else they just . . . sit there.”
Yeah, because there were no human features underneath for it to latch on to, were there?
I licked my lips. “If I help you, will you help me?”
The blond head tilted. “Help me how?”
“Get the vampires to do what you want. To accept the possession.”
“And in return?”
“I want Mircea protected. And you want it, too,” I added quickly. “Vamps like nothing better than to argue. If he dies, they could spend weeks, even months, debating over a successor. It could derail the entire war.”
“And why would he die?”
“People die in war from all sorts of things. Even their own allies.”
“I can assure you, my demons won’t—”
“No, your demons won’t.”
Two pale eyebrows arched. They didn’t look like he’d put any thought into them, leaving them the plain half-moons of the glamourie, but they managed to convey surprise nonetheless. And a question.
“I want two of your strongest as his personal bodyguards,” I said. “He doesn’t have to know about it. It would probably be better if he didn’t know about it. But they absolutely need to watch him all the time.”
“Even when he’s with friends?” The pale eyes lifted, to take in the knot of people behind us.
“Especially when he’s with friends.”
Adra smiled, a brief quirk of fake lips. “So be it.”
We walked back over to the group. The vamps had been dug out of the collapsed stands, and were milling about, looking miserable. And likely getting mental tongue-lashings from the masters they’d just embarrassed, because, of course, that was the most important thing. Among the smaller, senatorial group, talk was ensuing.
It stopped when we walked up.
Adra beamed at them. “Cassie would like to address our subjects.”
“Why?” Marlowe asked immediately.
“To help with our unfortunate enthusiasm gap.”
“You’re saying she can fix this?” a harassed-looking master demanded. He was tall, Asian and handsome, a Chow Yun-Fat clone, if Chow was younger and had a sleek tiger tat prowling around his face. Since it matched those on two of the vamps now being settled onto another section of bleachers, I assumed he had skin in the game. His boys were adjusting the cuffs of their finely tailored suits, trying to look cool and calm and more pulled together than the rest.
Which might have been easier if they hadn’t just been fleeing in terror.
“I’m saying new vamps are new,” I said, forcing him to have to actually address me. “I’ve been watching babies run into walls for the last hour because they’re still trying to see the human way. They don’t even know how their eyes work yet. These guys aren’t that bad, but they’re still a lot closer to what they were than what they will be.”
“Which means what?” he demanded.
“That masters at your level haven’t been human in so long, you’ve forgotten what it feels like. They haven’t. You want them to overcome their fear and do what you want? Not grudgingly, but full out, with enthusiasm? Then treat them as you would a human.”
“And?”
“Give them an incentive.”
Nobody said anything else, so I took that as a yes and walked over to the vamps. They didn’t appear happy to see me. Of course, right then I doubt they would have been happy about much.
It was why I’d have preferred to do this later, after they’d had a chance to calm down. Or to take them somewhere else, where their masters wouldn’t be glaring daggers at them the whole time. But I didn’t have a later, and not just because of my own schedule.
But because it was almost dawn.
And while older vamps might not get as fuzzy-headed and slow as the infant variety, it still affected them. I could already see it in some of the younger ones, in nervously tapping feet, jerky movements, and agitated glances—although that last could have had something to do with the hovering horde. They weren’t right on top of us. In fact, it looked like they’d pulled back a bit, possibly at Adra’s command. But they drew the eye.
Unlike me. Few of the vamps were even looking at me, and when they did, their eyes didn’t linger. And why should they? They had bigger problems than some barefoot girl who was almost as nervous as they were.
But Adra would only keep his word if I kept mine. That was how the world worked; nothing was free, nothing was ever free. And I couldn’t let Mircea go into Faerie without protection.
Not if I wanted to see him come out again.
I cleared my throat. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Cassie.”
It wasn’t quite as bad as the vamps on the door; a few of them, especially the ones in the front row, were listening politely—or pretending to. Probably because anything was better than what they’d be doing otherwise. But the rest were talking quietly, or staring at their masters, or glancing surreptitiously at a nearby exit, as if they were still planning to bolt.
I knew the feeling.
But instead I focused on the door, one I hadn’t seen before, hidden between two sets of bleachers. And the plain wooden chair that was propping it open. Which a second later was propping me up, because yeah. That felt better.
I looked up, and found a lot more eyes on me suddenly.
It took me a moment. And then I realized: most vamps weren’t my long-suffering bodyguards, and weren’t used to shifting. Or whatever they thought I’d just done to make a chair appear out of nowhere.
Lucky accident, but I’d take it.