Death's Mistress

by Karen Chance

  “This wouldn’t be necessary if you would—” He smelled the blood and flipped me over, yanking up the T-shirt. “Dieu! I never know what to do with you!”

  “How about telling me the truth?”

  “Would you know it if I did?” His voice was sharp enough on the edges to cut steel.

  “Try it.”

  His hand smoothed along my back instead, soothing, calming, healing. “The truth is that your father has no stake in this anymore,” he told me, his breath in my ear because he was bent over me, shielding me from the stares of the guards. “He lost. It may be a state with which he is unfamiliar, but it is nonetheless—”

  “For the last time, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I said, exasperated.

  “Then why are you here?”

  I felt like throwing his own words back at him, like telling him it was none of his damned business. But if I wanted answers, I was probably going to have to cough some up myself. And it wasn’t like there was any big secret.

  “I’m freelancing on the smuggling task force. You know, the one you’re supposed to be helping with? And not because Mircea snapped his fingers. I happen to like the idea of the war ending early and the arms manufacturers dying poor.”

  “And that’s all.”

  “Yes! That’s all!”

  Louis-Cesare frowned, and his hands stilled on my ass. “That is why you want the vampire? Because you suspect him of smuggling?”

  “Well, it damn sure isn’t for the pleasure of his company!”

  “Right back at you,” floated over from the duffel, which had landed by the wall.

  “Why? What do you want with him?” I asked, thoroughly confused now.

  “To buy back Christine!”

  I blinked. Okay, that wouldn’t have been my first guess. Christine was Louis-Cesare’s former mistress, who had been kidnapped in order to blackmail him. A vampire who was accustomed to getting what he wanted had asked Louis-Cesare to stand in for him in a duel. One of his subordinates had challenged him, and if he lost the duel, he wouldn’t just lose his position, but his life.

  That sort of substitution was allowable by vampire law, and Louis-Cesare had fought for other people in the past. But the man in question this time—Alejandro, head of the Latin American Senate—was known as a sadist who regularly did things that made even vampires blanch. The general consensus was that he wouldn’t be missed, and I guess Louis-Cesare agreed, because he told him to fight his own battles. So Alejandro had—by kidnapping Christine and vowing to return her only after his enemy was dead.

  Unlike most vamps, Louis-Cesare seemed to have a problem with cold-blooded murder. He’d defeated Tomas, the challenger in question, but refused to kill him because the man’s only crime was trying to rid the world of a monster. So Alejandro had refused to release Christine. It was the sort of brutal politics vampire courts abound in, counting the lives that were ruined as insignificant as long as a sought-after goal was reached. I’d been burned by that sort of thing myself, and normally I’d have been sympathetic.

  If it hadn’t all happened a century ago.

  “That’s where you’ve been?” I demanded, squirming. He let me turn over, but didn’t get up. Which would have been nice if we didn’t have an audience of staring guards, and if I wasn’t close to livid. “We’re fighting a war and you’re off—God! She’s been missing for a century! What difference does a couple more years—”

  “She doesn’t have a couple of years!”

  The leader of the guards seemed to have recovered, because he put a hand on my arm. “Sir, would you like me to—”

  Louis-Cesare knocked the man’s arm away. I used the moment of his distraction to get a knee in a sensitive spot and, when he flinched, roll out from under. I grabbed the bag, scrambled to my feet and fled down the hallway, in the opposite direction from the stairs. We were only two flights up, and I could do that jump easily—

  Louis-Cesare grabbed the duffel’s strap and jerked, but I’d expected that. I already had a knife in hand and cut the thin nylon. He staggered back a pace, and I put my foot through the window—and almost got it blown off. “Goddamn it!”

  “What is it now?” Louis-Cesare demanded.

  “Cheung’s men. I thought they’d left.”

  He took a quick peek out the window, prompting another volley from the vamps camped out on the sidewalk below. He shied back and rounded on the guards. “Why haven’t you cleared them out?”

  “Sir!” The lead guard was beginning to show signs of stress. “The management felt that a dhampir on the premises was more of a concern than—”

  “A party of mercenaries in the street, shooting out windows?”

  “With all due respect, sir, they only blew out the window because they sighted her!” The vampire gave me a less than friendly look. I showed him some fang.

  Louis-Cesare didn’t look much happier. He glanced at his watch. “Radu, my apologies. But I must—”

  “Yes, yes, we’ll be fine. Go.” Radu waved him off.

  “Running away again?” I demanded.

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “Explain it to me,” I said, backing up. I put the bag between me and the wall. Ray’s big nose was stabbing me in the butt, but no way was Louis-Cesare prying it out of my hands.

  “Dorina—”

  “It’ll be faster to convince me than to fight me.”

  He said something in French too colloquial for me to translate, which was probably just as well. But he seemed to reach the same conclusion himself. “Alejandro swore that Christine would live only as long as Tomas was no threat to him,” he told me abruptly. “For over a century, I was forced to keep him in thrall, virtually imprisoned at my estate unless he was with me personally. But a month ago, he managed to escape, and search as I might, I cannot find him.”

  “Mircea says he’s hiding out in Faerie,” Radu chimed in from the doorway, before ducking back inside to avoid another volley of gunfire, which took out the last few knickknacks on the wall.

  “Putting him beyond my reach,” Louis-Cesare added, his jaw tight. “To make matters worse, Alejandro learned that Tomas was free and informed me that I had thirty days to secure him again.”

  “That’s why you left so abruptly last month,” I said. I had wondered. Our acquaintanceship hadn’t been long, but it had been . . . intense. A good-bye would have been nice.

  “I knew if I didn’t find Tomas quickly, Christine’s life was forfeit.”

  “And Ray knows where he is?” I asked, confused. I couldn’t see where a seedy club owner fit into all this.

  “No. But I can exchange him for her.”

  “Come again?”

  Someone took that moment to lob in a grenade. Louis-Cesare caught it midair and lobbed it back, but it exploded close enough to break the rest of the glass in the window. And from the sound of things, several more besides. The remaining guards decided that maybe I wasn’t the biggest threat, after all, and went running downstairs. The sound of fighting from the street escalated a moment later, along with the distant wails of sirens.

  “Alejandro knew that I would have people watching his every move,” Louis-Cesare told me quickly. “And he was afraid that I might be able to buy loyalty at his court. He therefore sent Christine to Elyas, of the European Senate, with whom he’d had business dealings.”

  “And you couldn’t find her before this? You’re her master.”

  “Not at present. Alejandro broke my hold and established his own.”

  All right, I should have guessed that much. Master vampires traded servants from time to time, or lost them in duels or picked them up after their master died. And one of the first things they did with any new acquisition was to establish control by replacing the vamp’s master’s blood with their own.

  “How did you find out he had her?”

  “I didn’t. Last night, he contacted me and offered a trade.”

  It took me a minute to get it, because it was so a
bsurd. “Elyas will trade Christine for Raymond?”

  “In a way. He wants one of the items Raymond recently smuggled in from Faerie. Elyas was involved in a bidding war for it, and he lost.”

  “Let me guess. He doesn’t take losing well.”

  “In that regard, he reminds me of your father.”

  “Mircea was involved in this auction?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

  “Yes, but he could not go himself. It might have appeared awkward for the head of the new task force to be seen profiting from the smuggling trade. He therefore sent a proxy.” Louis-Cesare looked past me at his own father, who was peering out of the bedroom door again.

  Radu’s turquoise eyes were worried, and he’d shredded most of the silken tassel on his robe. “Well, I didn’t know,” he said crossly. “He simply said he wanted me to bid on something for him.”

  “You didn’t think that was odd?” I demanded.

  “Why should I? I’ve done it dozens of times before. They raise the price when they find out a senator is involved.”

  “Okay, so you went to the auction for Mircea, but didn’t get the item.”

  “It wasn’t my fault! I kept bidding and bidding, but the price kept going up, up, up. It just became ridiculous!”

  “So Mircea lost, too.” I looked at Louis-Cesare. “And you assumed he’d sent me to do what? Steal what he couldn’t buy?”

  “It is impossible to steal something unless you know where it is. And Raymond handled the sale.”

  “Son of a bitch.” I hated getting played, especially by my own father. Maybe because it had happened once too often. “Mircea sent me to fetch Ray, but of course he didn’t mention what he really wanted to ask him about! I assumed it was that ring of portals we’ve been searching for.”

  “I’ve no doubt that it would have come up, after Lord Mircea had gained his primary objective.”

  “I told him he was better off,” Radu put in. “He’d said to spare no expense, but we’re talking about the cost of a small country! And it was just some old rune. But he’s in a snit about it.”

  My brain came to a screeching halt. “Old rune?”

  “Yes, ugly little thing.”

  “Did it have a name?” I asked intently.

  Louis-Cesare’s eyes narrowed. “You said you wanted the vampire for smuggling.”

  “No, that’s what Mircea told me he wanted him for. I took the job to help Claire.”

  “Your fey friend?”

  “She’s here looking for a little something that was recently stolen from the Blarestri royal house.”

  Nobody had ever accused Louis-Cesare of being slow on the uptake. His blue eyes hardened to lapis. “No.”

  “Yes. It’s her property!”

  “And it’s Christine’s life!” He snatched the bag in a move even I had trouble tracking. One minute, I was holding it; the next, it was in his hands.

  I grabbed it, but he didn’t let go. “It may be Aiden’s life if we don’t get the damn thing back!”

  “Aiden? Who is—”

  “Claire’s son! Half the fey are trying to kill him, and the rest aren’t sure that isn’t a good idea. The rune is his protection.”

  “He has an army to protect him. Christine has no one!”

  I glared at him and pulled hard enough that the bag’s fibers started splitting. “If you want Christine so badly, fight Elyas for her.”

  “The Senates have prohibited duels between masters for the duration of the war.”

  “Then buy her.”

  “Do you not think I have tried?” He let go of Ray abruptly enough that my back hit the wall. “I offered him money, my vote on Senate matters, my sword to fight his duels! Yet the rune is the only thing he will take.”

  “We can get the Senate involved—”

  “They will not interfere in a private matter between two senators.”

  “Your consul then.” The senior vampire in charge of a Senate could occasionally be persuaded to help out a valuable member, and Louis-Cesare’s fighting ability was a major asset.

  “Dorina! Do you not think I have explored all possible options? I was told in confidence that, should I be so impolitic as to make an issue of this, they will only drag out deliberations until she is dead! They do not care about Christine. They care only about their precious alliance.”

  And, okay, I could see that. The Senates had recently joined forces to fight a greater enemy, and after centuries of mutual dislike and mistrust, it wasn’t the sturdiest of alliances. No way were they going to rock the boat over a single vampire. But that didn’t change my position any.

  “And I care about a little boy who deserves the chance to grow up.”

  Louis-Cesare stared at me for a moment, before turning away with a cry of anguished frustration. “What do you wish me to do?” he demanded, whirling back to face me. “I am responsible for the woman whose life I ruined! I must put that right!”

  “You didn’t ruin it. You saved her.” Louis- Cesare had made Christine a vampire to save her life. From what I’d heard, she’d been less than grateful.

  A pulse jumped in his neck. “You cannot save someone if they do not wish it. She believes herself damned because of me. I cannot change what was, but I can prevent her from having to pay the price for another of my mistakes.”

  “Not if it takes—” I stopped. Radu was down the hall, flapping his hands frantically.

  “The desk just called. Lord Cheung is on his way up!”

  I licked my lips. If Louis-Cesare broke the Senate’s prohibition, he’d be punished, probably severely. And he would break it rather than give in. He had a stubborn streak a mile wide and pride enough for any ten people.

  “We’ll share,” I offered.

  “How?”

  “When are you meeting Elyas?”

  “Now. I was leaving when you arrived.”

  “Then we’ll go together. You promised him the information; you’ll deliver. And I’ll be there to hear it at the same time he does.”

  “That does not guarantee you anything.”

  “This is my city. I have contacts he can only dream of, and I have no intention of fighting fair. I’ll get to it first.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue some more, but boots were coming up the stairs, and there was no time. “Agreed.”

  Gunther appeared in his doorway, a Luger in his hand and a backup at his waist. They looked a little incongruous next to the blue satin robe. “Okay, I take it back,” he told me, heading toward the stairs. “You do know how to bring the drama.”

  “You really are a bodyguard?”

  “I like to diversify.”

  I caught his arm. “They’ll shred you!”

  “I’m not planning to fight them. But demanding what they want will buy you a few seconds. I suggest you use them.”

  He disappeared into the stairwell, and Radu flew down the hall, dragging Ray by the arm. He pushed me back into Louis-Cesare’s room while pressing something hard into my hand. “It’s brand-new. I came to town partly in order to collect it. Please, please, please don’t scratch it!”

  “What about you?”

  “Lord Cheung can’t hurt me because of the truce, and anyway, with you two gone, he’ll have no cause.” Radu opened the heavy old wardrobe, shoved back the clothes and pushed me inside. I was about to ask what good he thought that was going to do when he gave another shove, and I was falling.

  I slid on my back, headfirst, down something like a laundry chute, and landed on very hard concrete. And a second later, Ray arrived, his knee driving the air out of my lungs. I’d have liked a moment to lie there, wheezing, but Louis-Cesare landed—on his feet, the bastard—and helped me up in order to steal the keys.

  We were in an underground garage filled with fabulousness, but there was no doubt which car was ’Du’s. We were in a hurry, but I took two seconds to stare anyway. A Lamborghini Murciélago convertible deserves it. Hot damn, I thought, feeling a grin breaking out over my face. And the
n I was running toward my new upscale ride.

  Chapter Fifteen

  We were already late, but we didn’t have far to go. I stared up at the familiar limestone building, with its turn-of-the-century architecture and its Central Park views. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Elyas recently purchased the penthouse,” Louis-Cesare informed me, with a twist to his lips.

  “Is he crazy? Out of everywhere you could have met, he invites you here?”

  “He likes taking risks.”

  He also liked being a dick. He’d taken the penthouse a couple floors above the apartment Mircea had recently acquired. I strongly suspected that he’d chosen that penthouse in that building just to spite him. It was the sort of petty one-upmanship that the world’s most powerful creatures regularly engaged in, as opposed to doing anything useful.

  An attendant jogged over, and Louis-Cesare got out of the car. He’d driven, because there hadn’t been time to wrestle him for the keys. I started to follow and then stopped, watching curiously as he walked around the hood.

  And opened my door.

  I stared at him blankly as he offered me a hand. It was beyond bizarre, but after a moment, I took it anyway. He helped me out and turned to the attendant, who had shied back when he saw Ray. Louis-Cesare tossed him the keys. “Do not let him drive.”

  “Very funny.” I opened the back door and dragged Ray out. “We can’t leave him here.”

  “You expect to take a headless vampire to a social event?”

  “No, but there’s an outside chance Cheung’s boys tracked us, and I don’t want them staking him while we’re inside.”

  Louis-Cesare looked pained. Ray was even dirtier than I was, and his bright red briefs had gotten a tear across the butt at some point, flashing a glimpse of hairy cheek whenever he moved. An awesome trophy he was not.

  We marched Ray under the portico, past the horrified-looking doorman and over to a cherrywood-paneled elevator. I leaned Ray against the wall, fished my cell phone out of the duffel and called Mircea’s apartment. Mircea’s old tutor and longtime butler answered. “What?” he demanded querulously.

  No amount of training has ever taught Horatiu the proper way to answer a phone. Mircea doesn’t give a damn, since most of the people who call him on his public line do so to grovel anyway, and he’s the only one with any control over the old vamp. Not that I think he has much.