As she walked, it was impossible not to notice the gorgeously feminine curves of her body, the casual sway of her hips from side to side, each movement emphasizing the fact that she carried deadly weapons. And, since it was raining on her white dress, it was impossible not to notice a whole lot of other things about Lara—such as the fact that other than the weapons and her shoes, it was all she was wearing.
I concentrated on keeping my tongue from hanging down past my chin, and forced my eyes to look elsewhere.
Her sisters were wearing much different gear. Though they also wore white, they had both donned what looked like motorcycle leathers—not like archetypical American bikers, but more like the gear you see professional racing motorcyclists wearing. It looked very high-tech, and was obviously armored. In standard gear, the armor was heavy plastic, there to protect the rider in the event of a collision or a fall. I was willing to bet that it had been upgraded to something a lot stronger in the Raith’s gear. They, too, were equipped with sidearms of both the past and present. Their hair was tied up and back, and like Lara, their skin was pale, their eyes were wide and grey, their lips dark and inviting.
I watched the three Raith sisters come and thought to myself that if there was any justice in the universe, I would get to watch that in slow motion.
Alas.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mai calmly lift a hand to Warden Berserkergang, motioning him to stand down. It didn’t surprise me. Ancient Mai had very strong notions of proper behavior and how it ought to be followed. She would never condone observable division amongst members of the Council where outsiders could witness it.
Lara stopped twenty feet away, and her sisters stopped a couple of feet behind her. Their eyes were on the Wardens, who returned the vampires’ stares with calm attention.
“Harry,” she said, her voice warm, as if we’d just run into one another at a soiree. “You are a wicked, wicked man. You didn’t tell me I’d have to share you with others tonight.”
“What can I say?” I asked, turning to face Lara. I smiled at her and bowed my head without taking my eyes off her. It was a more enjoyable paranoia than I’d observed for the Wardens, if no less wary. “I used to be a trusting, gentle soul, but the rigors of the cruel world have made me cynical and cautious.”
Lara looked from the Wardens to me, her expression speculative. Then she gave them a smile that could have melted plate steel and walked to me, somehow making a swagger look perfectly feminine. She extended both hands to me as she came.
I smiled in return, though mine was a lot stiffer and more artificial, and whispered, through my smiling teeth, “You have got to be kidding.”
She cast her eyes down demurely, toning the smile down to a smirk, and breathed, “Be nice to me, wizard mine, and I’ll return the favor.”
I don’t think I hesitated very long before I offered her my hands in return. We clasped them. Her fingers were silken-smooth and very cold. She smiled radiantly and inclined her head to me, a slow, graceful, formal gesture.
Then, faster than I could blink, much less move, she smacked me in the kisser.
She used her open hand, which prevented the blow from being a lethal one. Even so, it hit like a club. It knocked me several steps back, spinning me as I went, and I wound up caught in a drunken corkscrew that ended with my ass hitting the ground ten feet away.
“Once again you have lied to us,” Lara snarled. “Used us. I have had my fill of your deceits, wizard.”
I sat there with my mouth open, wondering if my jaw would start wobbling bonelessly in the rising breeze.
Fury radiated from her in a cold sphere, and every fiber of her body looked ready to do violence. She faced me with the members of the Council on her left, the darkness of the forest on her right. I focused on my shield bracelet, certain that there was every possibility that she might be about to draw her gun and plug me.
“If my brother is not returned to me whole this night,” she continued, her voice cold and deadly, “there will be blood between us and my honor will not be satisfied until one of us lies dead on the dueling ground.”
And then she winked at me with her right eye.
“Do you understand?” she demanded.
“Uh,” I said, trying to move my jaw. It was apparently whole. “Yeah. Message received.”
“Arrogant child.” She spat on the ground in my direction. Then she turned and walked purposefully toward the Senior Council members. She stopped about ten feet from Ancient Mai, just before the Wardens standing behind her would have snapped and started hurling thunder and fury. She came to a graceful stance of attention, and then bowed, rather deeply, to Ancient Mai.
Mai’s face revealed nothing. She returned the gesture, bowing less deeply.
“It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh,” Lara said. “You must be Ancient Mai.”
“Lara Raith,” Mai replied. “I had not anticipated your presence at this meeting.”
“Nor I yours.” She gave me a rather disgusted glance. “Courtesy, it seems, is a devalued commodity in this world.” She bowed again, to Ebenezar and Listens-to-Wind, and greeted them by name. “Your reputations, gentlemen, precede you.”
Injun Joe nodded without speaking.
“Lady Raith,” Ebenezar said, calmly. “Touch that boy again and the only things left for your kin to bury will be your five-hundred-dollar shoes.”
“Ai ya,” Ancient Mai said in a flat tone.
Lara paused at Ebenezar’s statement. It didn’t rattle her, precisely, but she gave Ebenezar another look and then inclined her head to him. “Gentlemen, lady. Obviously we both have urgent concerns that must be addressed. Equally obviously, none of us anticipated the presence of the other, and a violent incident would benefit no one. On behalf of the White Court, I propose a formal agreement of nonaggression for the duration of this meeting.”
Ancient Mai gave Ebenezar a hard look, then lifted her chin slightly and turned away, somehow giving the impression that she had formally dismissed him from reality. “Agreed,” she said. “On behalf of the Council, I accept the proposal.”
I managed to stagger back to verticality. My wounded head felt like Lara had split it open, and I’d have a hand-shaped bruise on my cheek, but I wasn’t going to sit there moaning about getting slapped by a girl. Granted, the girl was hundreds of years old and could change a fire truck’s tires without using a jack, but there was a principle at work here. I got to my feet and then walked carefully over to stand beside Ebenezar, facing the vampires. One of the Wardens there made a little room for me, all his attention focused forward on Lara and her sisters.
Heh. They were much more comfortable with me when I was aimed at an enemy. I tried to keep a running portion of my awareness focused on Demonreach. I had done as much as I could in assembling this group. I was counting on my estimate of the killer to take it to the next level, and until he showed up, I had to keep stringing both Lara and the Council along.
The best way to do that, for the moment, was to keep quiet and let them talk.
“I suppose the first thing we must do is share knowledge,” Lara said to Ancient Mai. “Would you prefer it if I went first?”
Mai considered that for a moment and then bowed her head in a slight acknowledgment.
Lara proceeded without further ado. “My brother, Thomas Raith, has been taken by a skinwalker, one of the ancient naagloshii. The skinwalker has offered an exchange. My brother for Warden Donald Morgan.”