Then I snapped out of it and kicked the door shut behind me. “You killed him?”
“Non.” Louis-Cesare looked up at me, his eyes dark with shock.
“Then what the hell—”
“I came here to demand Christine. I found him like this.”
Ray snorted from inside the duffel. “ ‘He was like this when I got here’? That’s your alibi?”
“I do not need an alibi!” Louis-Cesare told him stiffly. “I did nothing!”
“And you’re holding a knife because…?” I asked.
“The knife was on the floor, and the blood dripping from his wound was rapidly covering it. I picked it up to get it out of the way, and as I did so, he died.”
I stared at him in disbelief. If that was his story, he was completely screwed. And then running footsteps were coming down the hall, and I realized it didn’t matter. He could have the best damn story in the history of the world, but no vampire was going to take time to listen when his master had just been killed.
We needed to get out of here and worry about damage control later. There was a single window in the room, or there had been. The force of Elyas’s passing had blown it out, letting in a breeze that stirred the heavy drapes. I used my elbow to knock out the remaining glass, then stared downward. A five-story plunge onto concrete, which was not doable for me. But Louis- Cesare ought to be able to manage it.
“Feel like giving me a—” I began, turning. Only to see him disappear through a door to the left.
“Where the hell is he going?” Ray demanded.
I just shook my head and ran after him. Beyond the door was some kind of sitting room, with a big window and a lot of soft, comfortable- looking armchairs. There was no one there, but a door on the other side of the room was open. I went through and found Louis-Cesare about to put his foot through a locked door.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, as the sound of fists pounding on the study door came from behind us.
“Searching for Christine.” He kicked in the door and disappeared inside.
“Now? They’re going to kill you if they find you here!”
“And they will kill her in three days if I do not.”
“You don’t know that she’s here! Elyas could have her anywhere.”
He didn’t even slow down. He disappeared into what looked like a bathroom, while I stared back and forth between it and the office. Damn it! I turned around and ran back.
The door was shuddering under the blows from outside, but it must have been warded, because it hadn’t already caved in. I didn’t know how long it might last, but I needed a look at the body. God only knew what kind of condition it would be in by the time any of the Senate’s people got here, and a dhampir witness was better than none at all.
The big leather chair was on wheels, so it was easy enough to move it out from the desk a couple inches, to give me a view of the body from underneath. The only light in the room was a thin ribbon under the door, the residue of a few low-burning sconces in the hall, and a little grayish city light from outside. At first I didn’t see anything other than the unnatural tilt of his head and the wet, clotted gape of his slit throat. Then I took a pencil and pulled at the open collar of his dress shirt and there it was: a glint of gold.
“I don’t get it,” Ray said. “He had the rune—I know it. So why’s he dead?”
I tugged at the chain and the heaviness already told me Ray was right, even before the necklace appeared. Ray had been correct about the size, but not the gaudiness. It was large, maybe four inches across, but beautifully made. The striations of gold radiating out from the center caught the light in a starburst that lit up the floor with a pattern of rainbows.
“Jókell’s?” I asked, holding it up.
“Yeah. That’s it,” Ray told me, over a cracking sound.
A glance at the door showed me that someone had tried to put a foot through it. They hadn’t quite made it, but part of the wood had bowed inward, with splintering around the indentation. Only the ward was keeping the fibers in place at this point, and it was failing. We were out of time.
I pulled the carrier off Elyas’s head and shoved it in the duffel. I spared a second to check the knife sticking out of his back, to make sure I knew what had happened. Then I ran for it, hearing the door explode into pieces behind me.
A couple vamps had been smart enough to go around the long way. I guess the waiting room door must have been warded, too, because they met me in the bathroom. One was a medium-grade master—level five, at a guess—who tried to put a fist through my head. I dodged, and he hit the mirror instead, spraying glass everywhere and giving me a second to shove an incendiary stick down his pants.
It went off with a hissing flare and he fell back into the bathtub, screeching and fumbling for the faucet. The baby vamp with him just stood there for a second, before quickly putting his hands up. I rolled my eyes, pushed him out of the way and ran out the door.
It exited into the hall, where a crowd of people now wreathed the ruined study door. And, of course, one of them saw me. There was one of those startled moments when everyone just looked at one another, and then came a collective surge down the hallway. Louis-Cesare reached out of a small bedroom, jerked me inside and slammed the door.
Yeah, like that was going to help.
Someone put a foot through the door a second later, and when they drew back, I threw a disorienting sphere out the opening. It was designed to make vamps forget why they were fighting, but either I’d gotten a dud, or these vamps were especially motivated. Because an arm reached through, grabbed mine and slammed me into the door headfirst.
I twisted the wrist enough to get myself free and turned, still seeing stars. And then I saw Louis-Cesare gathering a woman into his arms. “We must get you out of here,” he told her gently.
There was no light, but a spill of moonlight through an open window highlighted high cheekbones, sensual lips and sleek dark hair pulled back into a smooth chignon. She looked like a fashion model, if they’d had them in the nineteenth century, which was when her high-necked white lawn nightgown appeared to have been made. And she smelled like apples—crisp, fresh and succulent.
Oh, yeah. He’d really been suffering, I thought viciously.
And then the arm grabbed me again.
I stuck a knife through it as the woman turned her face up to his. She smiled. “Louis-Cesare.”
The French window led onto a small balcony. He carried her out and looked over the edge. “It is a long drop,” he told her in French. “Land on your feet in a crouching position.”
She shook her head, grasping him around the neck. “It is too far for me.”
“It is not too far,” he said patiently. “You must try.”
She shook her head more violently, starting to panic as she looked down. “No! No, I cannot. Please do not make me—”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Ray said. “What? Are you afraid she’ll bruise?”
Louis-Cesare looked at me. “I’m with Ray on this one,” I told him, as someone kicked in the door.
It fell onto the bedpost, which blocked it somewhat, but several vamps slithered around the sides anyway. Louis-Cesare put Christine down to face them, and she ran into an adjacent room. I followed her and found her hugging the back wall of a small dressing room.
“Please, please do not let him force me!” she begged.
My first thought was that Louis-Cesare had been right—her power signature was so low, she could have been a newborn. If I hadn’t been paying attention, I might have mistaken her for a human. My second thought was that for someone who wasn’t afraid of anything, she seemed pretty damned timid to me.
My third was how lovely that head would look on a pike, but I shook it off and grabbed her wrist.
“Okay,” I promised. “It’s okay. Louis-Cesare won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”