“Dacia?” Lord Johnny shook her shoulder.
With an effort, she looked at his face, concentrating on him and not the wolves.
“We have to get out of here,” she said.
“If you’ll come this way,” the guard said, giving her a grateful look. He put one hand on the door.
“No!” Dacia startled them with her vehemence. “They’re in the corridor already. We’ll have to go out the window, into the gardens.”
The guard leaned against the door, listening. A moment later he leaped back.
“They are in the corridor,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“We have to go,” Dacia said, but she felt like her voice didn’t have as much conviction as it had before. She was swaying toward the door to the corridor, and once again it was Johnny’s hand on her arm that kept her from joining her family.
“There’s a passage here,” the king said. He got to his feet, weapons in hand, and crossed to one of the bookcases that lined the walls of the study.
“I thought those books looked fake,” Dacia said to no one in particular.
She let Lord Johnny take her arm in a firmer grip. He was standing very close to her now, and she could smell his shaving lotion. It smelled like leather and spices. He was not exceptionally tall, and so they were much of a height, with the low heels that she wore. She had a sudden urge to press her cheek to his, and fought it back.
What was wrong with her? She wanted to join the wolves, she wanted to kiss Johnny, she wanted to run through the forest barefoot. It was as though a fog had completely covered her brain, and all she could do was feel these urges. She gripped Johnny’s arm and clenched her teeth to keep from saying something inappropriate as the king lifted a hidden latch. A section of the bookcase swung inward to reveal a narrow passageway.
“We can go to my bedchamber, and from there to safety,” the king said, leading the way down the way between the walls.
Dacia could still hear them, the Claw. She sensed other, higher voices, that she thought might be the Wing. And, too, the sound of heavy footsteps, of loud voices, carried through the wall. It seemed that Mihai had supporters of a more mundane nature as well.
“Vlad Tepes had thousands,” she murmured to herself.
“What’s that?” Lord Johnny leaned closer, and his breath brushed her cheek.
“If he means to follow Vlad Tepes,” Dacia said as the king stopped and fiddled with the latch of a door leading off the passage. “He will have thousands of soldiers—” Then something else occurred to her, and she put out a hand to stop the king. “Tepes wanted to kill the sultan himself. Mihai will come after the king himself—”
But it was too late. They stumbled into the king’s bedchamber to see Mihai lounging at the foot of the bed, a pistol in his hand and a smile on his face.
“He came himself,” Dacia said flatly.
Her stomach churned at the sight of Mihai there, on the king’s bed. She thought of the bed in the hotel and sweat broke out on her forehead and down her back. No. She forced her mind away.
“Indeed I did come,” Prince Mihai said, giving Dacia a look that made her aware that he was also thinking of the hotel and what had almost happened there. He turned his attention to the others. “Now, why don’t you all make yourselves comfortable? Shut the door, please,” he told the guard, looking over Dacia’s shoulder.
Dacia turned to look at the man as well, and Theo . . . but he wasn’t there. She clenched her teeth again to keep from making a noise. Theo had been last through the door. He must have seen Mihai and slipped back down the passage before he was spotted. Dacia gave a silent cheer and hoped that the resourceful young man would bring reinforcements.
She gave her attention back to Mihai, which was just what the prince wanted. He was still smiling at her. She clung all the tighter to Johnny’s arm. She wondered how she could have ever been stupid enough to think Mihai so handsome and exciting. Hadn’t she seen the cruelty lurking in his eyes? Had he hidden it from her so well, or had she just made herself blind to it because she was so enthralled with being courted by a prince?
“You’ve come to me at last, whether you meant to or not,” Mihai said to her. He held out his hand, the one that wasn’t aiming a pistol at the king.
“I haven’t come to you at all,” Dacia said.
“But you have, and without your beloved aunt Kate lifting a finger.” He clucked his tongue. “We shall have to punish her.”
“She isn’t yours to punish,” Dacia said, doing her best to keep her voice low and commanding. She had a distressing tendency toward shrillness, if she lost control.
“Ah, but she is,” Mihai said lightly. “And so are you. Now come here, like a good dog.” He snapped his fingers and gave an ugly laugh at his own joke, while Lord Johnny made a sound that was rather like a growl.
“Here now,” said the guard, indignant.
“Oh, so there’s more than one dog in the room?” Mihai smirked. “Or should I say, more than two?” He looked past Dacia to the guard. “Far too many for my taste.”
He shot the guard.
The bullet tore past Dacia, a streak of heat that made her shriek a little, and then the poor guard groaned and fell to the floor, a bullet through his chest. Blood began to gush out, and Lord Johnny pulled her away, putting an arm protectively around her, and moving her closer to King Carol, who hadn’t said a word, or taken his eyes off Prince Mihai.
“Have done, Mihai,” said King Carol. “Have done, before more people must die. Your claim to my throne is the thinnest of excuses for your cruelty.”
“Your claim to my throne is nonexistent, you Hungarian bastard!” Mihai leaped to his feet, baring his teeth at the king with his snarled words.
The curtains stirred, though there was no draft that Dacia could feel.
“You are a Hungarian bastard yourself,” Dacia said coolly, causing both the king and Mihai to turn to her with expressions of equal parts astonishment and irritation. “His Majesty is not, in fact, a bastard, while your ancestors rather eschewed formal marriage, so you can hardly bandy that word about, Mihai.” She released Lord Johnny’s arm, and smoothed the front of her gown, doing her best not to look down at the guard’s body as it bled onto the dark-colored rug. “Nor, as I’ve said, can you throw insults on the Hungarians. My understanding is that you are more Hungarian than Romanian yourself. Your family shouldn’t have put mine in quite such a lowly role. Had we intermarried a bit more, you’d have real Romanian blood, and perhaps acquired some powers of your own.”
“I don’t need to have your monstrous powers,” Mihai snapped. “I need only to command them. And even without your family, I have an army behind me, waiting for me to kill the usurper and take my rightful place as ruler.”
“I am not a monster,” Dacia said.
She knew then that she believed it: whatever she was, she was not a monster. Mihai was the monster. Something warm and soft, like the breath of a loved one, moved against her cheek. She smiled.
“I am a young lady of good family,” she went on, “and I have suffered enough humiliation at your hands, Mihai. Put your weapon down at once, and stop all this foolishness.”
“I think once we are wed, I will find a Gypsy sorcerer to take away your voice,” Mihai said.
“I think if we were to wed, I would promptly tear your throat out,” Dacia said in the same social tone he had used.
“You won’t wed,” Lord Johnny said tightly. “You won’t ever see her again.”
“Both of you step aside and let Mihai and me sort this out,” King Carol demanded. “You can’t possibly take the throne with only a handful of wolves to support you.”
“So very true,” Mihai agreed. “Which is why I have hired an entire army of mercenaries as well!” He cocked his pistol, aiming at Lord Johnny. “And there’s no need for anyone to step aside. I’ll just get rid of you all right now.”
Dacia calmly moved in front of Lord Johnny.
“You aren’t going
to shoot anyone else,” Dacia said.
She hoped that her fair skin didn’t betray her by making her blush too obvious. She hoped, too, that Lord Johnny was standing too close to see what was happening to her gown. Slowly, so slowly, the buttons that ran down the back of her gown were undoing themselves. She put her hands, lightly clasped, to her waist, and tried to slip her hand into her reticule without drawing Mihai’s attention to it.
“Step away from him, bitch,” Mihai grated.
King Carol stepped forward, one hand raised as though to strike Mihai.
“You foul creature,” the king began.
Mihai screamed with rage, spittle stringing from his chin. He leveled his gun at the king, and several things happened at once, creating a scene of madness that would haunt Dacia’s dreams for years to come.
Mihai shot King Carol, but Lord Johnny shoved the older man down just in time, so the bullet tore through the king’s shoulder, not his heart. Dacia’s gown fell to the floor in a puddle of poplin and lace, and she was standing in her underthings when Theo burst into the room at the head of the royal guards. The window shattered and men with long mustaches and bared weapons leaped through: Mihai’s mercenaries. Both groups opened fire, and Mihai grabbed Dacia’s waist. She shook him off, snatching a knife from his belt and letting her reticule fall to the floor as well.
“Put the knife down,” Mihai yelled, aiming the pistol at her now.
She smiled at him beatifically. “I won’t stab you,” she said. She slit her corset and the chemise beneath it with one long stroke of the blade, not caring that she nicked her skin twice. “I will prefer to use my teeth.”
She cast one look toward Lord Johnny, on the floor covering the king with his own body. The young lord gazed back at her.
Dacia brought her arm up and flipped the heavy gold bracelet over her hand. It struck Mihai between the eyes and he clutched at his face, cursing. Freed of her Parisian finery, Dacia changed. When all four of her paws were rooted in the carpet, she stretched her neck up and howled. Mihai flung himself backward, scrambling across the bed toward the open window with his pistol pointing wildly around the room.
Dacia paused, taking just a moment to relish the power, the freedom of this form. Then she locked her gaze on Mihai, and growled low in her throat.
“So beautiful,” Dacia heard Lord Johnny say as she leaped.
17 JUNE
PELES CASTELUL
Lou was herself again.
She was not corporeal by any means, which was fortunate, as she had no clothes. Instead she was a cloud of Smoke, hovering near the glass ceiling of the palace’s central hall. She became aware of bats flying through her—an unpleasant sensation. The more so when she truly came to herself and realized that the bats were some of her aunts and cousins of the Wing.
Lou supposed that she could speak to them if they touched her, but she had no desire to. She knew why they were here, and she doubted very much that they would listen to her. She was glad she had no stomach to feel queasy, as she saw her cousins and aunt and uncles diving down at the servants and guards passing below. The servants were screaming and covering their heads with their hands, the guards cursing, and bats squealed with delight as red blood dripped from their claws.
Ignoring them, Lou gathered herself and soared through the palace, looking for Dacia.
She had barely started down the corridor toward the king’s study when she found Theo tucked into the deep doorway of the music room. He was in whispered conversation with the captain of the palace guard, both their faces grim. She coiled herself down until she was level with Theo. The captain didn’t notice her at first, but Theo immediately turned his head and looked at her gravely.
“Are you well, my dear Lou?”
She bobbed up and down in a kind of nod.
“I am glad. I worried when you disappeared that perhaps you were gone for good.”
His dark brows were drawn together with concern. He had removed his tie and loosened his jacket, and Lou thought that it made him look very young.
She could not answer him, so she merely swished in the air, a kind of headshake and shrug at once. Then both of them noticed the captain, whose face was chalky as he stared at Lou.
“What is that thing?”
Theo drew himself up tall. “That thing is Miss Louisa Neulander, and you will address her with respect, sir! Now gather your men and let us proceed to the king!”
Lou followed, since Dacia was most likely with King Carol. But they were forced to stop just as they turned the corner. The corridor outside the royal bedchamber was completely blocked by wolves. The captain and his men froze, bulging eyes fixed on the wolves, who didn’t stir, even when two of the soldiers swore and another loudly cocked his pistol.
“Stop,” the captain said hoarsely. “Don’t. Move.”
“My dear Lou,” Theo said softly. “The king, your Dacia, and John did not make it to the cellars as planned. We suspect the wolves are gathered here because—”
At last one of the wolves took notice, stepping toward them with a growl. It was an enormous wolf, mostly gray, and Lou looked into its eyes and recognized her uncle Horia. She made herself as dense as possible, shielding Theo. Uncle Horia fell silent, but he didn’t back away.
“Could you look inside, Lou, and see if all is well?” Theo asked.
She knew that it was not all well, how could it possibly be? But she also understood what he meant: Was the king dead? Was it even worth their fighting through the roiling mass of wolves, their fangs bared and hackles raised to make them appear larger than they already were? As she slipped between them, she did not get a taste of Aunt Kate or Radu, and this cheered her immensely. Feeling hopeful, she swirled through the keyhole and into the royal bedchamber.
The situation within the bedchamber was very far from well.
Prince Mihai was pointing a pistol at King Carol, and although the king, his guard, and Lord Johnny were all armed, Lou knew it wouldn’t matter. If Lord Johnny tried to shoot, Mihai would kill the king. Even if he himself died by Lord Johnny’s hand, Mihai would still have succeeded in a part of his goal, at least. And Lou could sense more people . . . men . . . men with guns. But where were they?
She slipped across the floor toward the window, hoping that Mihai was too focused on the king to see her. Prince Mihai was saying awful things to Dacia, but Lou didn’t let herself hear them. She needed to find those men . . .
There!
Outside the windows, which were open just a crack, there were more armed men. Mihai’s men: they had guns trained on Dacia and Lord Johnny, and the blackness of night outside hid them from those inside the brightly lit room.
Everything, within the room and without, was balanced very delicately. Lou drifted about the hem of the heavy curtains, not sure what to do. Something needed to happen to upset the balance, and it needed to be tipped in the king’s favor, but how? They were all armed, but Lou was the Smoke, which gave her little advantage here. If only Dacia—
Dacia! Dacia was the one who could change this. If Dacia were to transform, it would be a distraction. And as a wolf she would be better able to fight. And as the queen of the pack, perhaps she could persuade the other Florescu wolves to stand aside.
But how to tell her cousin? How to convince her to change?
Mihai shot the guard, and Dacia and Lord Johnny huddled closer together. Lou knew that they couldn’t waste any more time, and stirred herself from the curtain fringe.
Lou slipped across the floor and glided up Dacia’s skirts. Straining to make herself as invisible as possible, she tuned herself in to the conversation at last, so that she would know if anyone spotted her. Just as she did, she heard Dacia’s cool words.
“I am not a monster.”
And Lou knew that Dacia meant it, and that she was prepared to embrace her power. Lou pressed
a ghostly kiss to her cousin’s cheek and then she got to work. The back of Dacia’s gown fastened with half a hundred tiny buttons. Lou gathered herself together as she did when she wrote on the mirror and undid the buttons as quickly as she could. It took all of her concentration, but once she got the hang of it the buttons popped easily out of their holes. The only thing holding Dacia’s gown in place at this point was Dacia’s own hands, pressed to her waist.
Then Dacia’s gown was pooled on the floor, and she was grabbing a knife to slit her corset and underthings. A gun went off, and the king went down with a shout, while Lou arrowed through the keyhole, unlocking the door as she went so that Theo and his men could run into the room with pistols drawn. Within the room was chaos, outside in the corridor was . . . nothing.
The wolves had gone.
She followed their taste down the corridor and into a sitting room, where the entire pack was gathered, arrayed in eerie silence in front of Aunt Kate and Radu, who both stood, human and unclothed in the middle of the Turkish carpet. Aunt Kate’s hair hung unbound down to her buttocks, and as Lou watched she shook it back and began to speak.
“My mother can rant all she likes about prophecies,” Aunt Kate snarled. “But look at the hard truth in front of your eyes: the first Smoke in a hundred years refuses to follow Lady Ioana! The new queen of your pack refuses to follow her!” To Aunt Kate’s further credit, she didn’t choke at all on the words new queen. She went on. “I am tired of thinking of what is best for the Draculas. I want to do what is best for the Florescus!”
Several of the wolves yipped now, seeming to agree, but others growled. Lou shaped herself into a column so that they could see her. Aunt Kate turned when she saw the attention of the pack shift to Lou and looked at her gravely, then she nodded once. It was almost a bow. The others followed suit, at least most of them did. And those who didn’t found Radu snarling at them with a mouth that was more wolf than human until they, too, cowered on the palace carpet. Radu bowed to Lou, and she did her best to give him a regal nod.
Silver in the Blood Page 24
