Hassani’s more…interesting-looking…servants weren’t running around and they weren’t wearing silk. They’d also apparently declined tuxes, suits or even the elaborate costumes of the consul’s vamps. Instead, they remained in what looked like their everyday attire—stark, hard leathers, old and scratched and vaguely dusty, over thin cotton shirts and trousers and discolored boots. They didn’t go with the decor or the surrounding splashes of gleaming fabrics and bright jewels. They did go pretty well with the rifles slung over their backs and the swords at their waists. And the looks on their faces as they hedged the boss.
And for the first time I seriously started to doubt myself.
It would be suicide for any group to try to fight their way in here. Even assuming they got past the outer wards and the inner wards and the guards bristling with weapons, what then? There would just be more hell awaiting them in the form of the crème de la crème of the vampire world.
The original plan had relied on surprise: a rush through the portal, a strike with overwhelming force on a largely civilian crowd, who could be relied on to go nuts at the first sign of danger and run amok. That would complicate any attempted counterstrike by the consul’s guards for a few vital minutes, during which the other side might be able to gain the upper hand. It was a gamble, but one with decent odds.
Unlike this.
I suddenly started wondering what I was doing here.
Not that it looked like I’d have that problem for long.
“I told you, I must have dropped them on the stairs,” Ray was saying, as he was shoved unceremoniously through the curtain.
There were two guards now, and they didn’t look so obsequious anymore. Although, amazingly, neither seemed to have recognized me yet. It was only a matter of time, though, and if there was nothing more to see from up here, there was no reason to—
Ray came into my line of sight, looking rumpled and put upon and as crabby as ever, flanked by the two guards.
And outlined by the silver gleam of the great mirror behind him.
You know, the one that masked the consul’s portal.
And just that fast, I understood.
“I know we checked, but I’m telling you, somebody must have picked them up,” he was saying, glaring at the vamp with the hand on his arm. “Don’t you have cleaning staff? Have you checked with them? Because you’re making a big mistake here. I’ll have you know that Lord Mircea and I, we’re like this.” He held up a hand with crossed fingers. “He gave me a ride in his limo just the other day, and I was telling him…”
I didn’t hear whatever story Ray had dreamed up, which didn’t appear to be working on the guards anyway. One of whom grabbed my purse, I guess to check for tickets. I let him have it in favor of gripping Ray’s arm. “The password,” I said tightly.
He just looked at me.
“For the portal. You said Radu guessed it.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So the bad guys were right there. What if they heard—”
His eyes got big, but before he could answer, the guards stiffened. And one glance to the right showed me why. It seemed that Marlowe did look up now and again, after all. Because he was practically hanging over the balcony, staring straight at me. And I finally understood the saying “If looks could kill.…”
Only they didn’t have to, because his boys had just been instructed to do it for him.
“Shit,” Ray said, and slammed his elbow back into the gut of his vamp.
I kicked out at mine, heard something crunch, and saw him go staggering at the balcony. And then Ray was jerking me through the door and toward the stairs, only to do a fast one-eighty and drag me through the curtain of the next box instead. “More, coming up fast,” he told me quickly, as Radu’s blond spoke from the hall.
“They just jumped over the balcony,” he told someone laconically. “They’re back downstairs now.”
There was the sound of booted feet hitting marble, but only some of them. Others started checking the box seats, because they hadn’t been born yesterday, and that included this one. Which I’d just noticed contained only two people.
One of whom was making down gestures at me.
I grabbed Ray and dove behind a low-slung couch, just about the time the metal curtain holders shlincked along their rod. And, presumably, a guard poked his nose in. And saw what I just had, namely the hairy leg and thigh of the flagrantly naked man on top of a pretty brunette senator whose name escaped me, but it had once been linked with Geminus’s.
Only it looked like she’d traded up. Because the guy continuing to move lazily against her was none other than Anthony, the European consul. Who obviously had his own way of celebrating, and it didn’t involve hobnobbing with a bunch of his rivals.
Fortunately, scaring the crap out of intrusive guards had made the list. Or maybe he was just returning a favor I’d once done him. Either way, he was giving a good glare over the back of the chaise.
“Yes?” he drawled, voice dripping with the privilege of a few thousand years.