Something shifted behind his eyes, something dangerous. “And I’ll shut up and like it.”
“Right now I don’t give a damn whether you like it or not. But I’m not leaving without you, so you may as well—”
The door blew open, and Caleb and Pritkin both flung out a hand. And whoever it was blew right back out again. The door clicked softly shut.
Pritkin glared at me for another second, and then transferred the look to Caleb. “The rugs,” he snarled, and for a second, Caleb looked as confused as I was. And then—
“Aw, hell no!”
“You have a better idea?” Pritkin snapped, striding over and grabbing a big gold one that was anchoring a pleasant conversation area just inside the bedroom.
Caleb looked heavenward, but then apparently remembered where he was and gave up. And snatched up a red one from the balcony floor. And in the process sent one of the guards tumbling over the railing and into the night, who had just jumped down on top of it from the floor above.
Caleb grabbed Pritkin’s arm as his buddy tossed what looked like an expensive rug after the demon. “My magic’s weak here,” he warned.
“That down in the souk was weak?” I asked, in disbelief.
Caleb glanced at me. “With the amount of power I let loose, the whole damned market should have been in flames. As it was, we barely made it here. And I don’t know—”
“It’ll have to be enough,” Pritkin said grimly.
“Sure. Says the half demon.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“After this?” Caleb rolled his eyes. And then he grabbed Casanova. “Are we taking this one?”
“Yes!” Casanova said heatedly. “I don’t want to be here when Rosier finds out what you’re doing!”
“What we’re doing?”
“None of this is my fault!”
“Oh, you’ll be here,” Pritkin said grimly. But then he threw him over the balcony, too.
I was about to freak out, because that was a damned long way down, even for a vampire. But I didn’t get a chance. Because I was next.
I didn’t even have time to scream before my butt was bouncing on something firm but soft, not two yards under the balcony’s lip. I didn’t have time to see what it was before Pritkin landed beside me. And before we took off, in a blur of wind that had my eyes tearing up.
Or maybe that was the spell that flashed through the air right in front of my face, and set something on fire.
I turned back around, because that had come from above. And saw a bunch of guards hanging over the railing of the floor above Pritkin’s, firing what looked like balls of pure lightning at us. They burned like it, too, I thought, smelling singed wool.
And realized that the something on fire was the something we were sitting on.
Something big and gold and—
And missing a corner when Pritkin pulled a knife and sliced off the burning bit of what had been a nice rug. No, not a rug, I thought blankly, gripping the suddenly very flimsy feeling sides. Now it was a flying—
Target, floating around over the city on a gentle wafting motion that was going to get us roasted any minute now. I stared across the void at Casanova, who was also clinging to the edge of his carpet with both hands, peering over the side with his ass in the air. And with an expression that somehow managed to combine pissed off and terrified.
And you know things are bad when you start agreeing with Casanova.
“They’re still shooting at us!” I told Pritkin, who was crawling around, muttering something at the carpet.
“And this surprises you?”
“Yes! They have to know you’re up here!”
“Obviously.”
“But they could kill you!”
“That would be the idea.”
“You’re saying there are people here who want you dead?” A terse nod, but no information. Of course not. “Damn it, Pritkin! I don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t!” he said, turning on me savagely. “Which is why you shouldn’t have come!”
“That’s why you shouldn’t have left!”
“I didn’t have a choice!”
“Neither did I!”
“Get a room!” Casanova screeched as another spell flashed through the space between us. “And put these damned things into high gear or we are all going to die!”
“Layering spells isn’t easy under the best of terms,” Pritkin told him. “Which these are not!”
“What layering? Just move this thing!”
“Levitation spell—one,” Caleb said, holding a finger in front of his face. “Keeping the damned carpet stiff and level—two.” Another finger. “And now you want a propulsion spell, which is three, and which ain’t happening.”
Casanova stared from him to Pritkin and back again. “You mean, you threw us off the balcony and you didn’t have a plan for getting us down?”
“Someone once said, if you’re in a burning building, you jump out a window. You figure everything else out on the way to the ground.”
“It’s the ground I’m worried about!”
And I didn’t blame him. A drop like that was one of the few things that could kill a master vampire. But it wasn’t like we could go any lower. The red lightning balls seemed to have a range, and we had drifted too high for them to reach.
We’d also started moving forward a little, barely fast enough to ruffle my hair, although that would have been an improvement—if the guards hadn’t just switched to other spells. These looked different, with long tails and a wider dispersion; I guess because they were harder to aim at this distance. But the result was a sky full of what looked a lot like fireworks, red and pink and yellow and orange, and would have been really beautiful . .
If we hadn’t been flying through the middle of them.
Casanova shrieked as another spell burned past, shedding yellow sparks that ate tiny holes in his robe before something Caleb muttered put them out. I was more worried about the shock waves from the explosions, which were rocking us every which way, like a boat on the high seas.
I’d just had the thought when another wave hit us, heavier than the rest, tipping the rug I was clinging to with both hands and a foot by at least thirty percent. I slid to the edge, and for a second, I stared straight down at a city full of deep blue shadows and orange lantern-light and exploding spells and streets full of people staring back at us. But I didn’t scream.
Because there was one thing, at least, that I wasn’t seeing.
“Why aren’t the incubi coming after us?” I gasped as Pritkin grabbed me and the rug wobbled back into place. “They can reach us no matter how high we are!”
“Yeah, except that we shot one a few minutes ago,” Caleb reminded me, the light from a passing bolt staining his face gold.
“With what?” Pritkin demanded.
Caleb held up the little silver gun I’d given him.
Which is when Pritkin started cursing.
“We didn’t kill anybody,” I said. “Which is more than they’re trying to do to us!”
“There are many among the lords who would gladly see me dead,” Pritkin said, reaching over and snatching his gun back. “But they aren’t going to attack me—or those under my protection—right in front of my father. Unless you two give them a perfect reason by shooting at them!”
“It was only one,” Caleb said diffidently.
“You’re as bad as she is!”
“Why do they want you dead?” I demanded. “You’re Rosier’s heir—”