The older ghost sniffed. “Your legions of fans will doubtless have you another inside a week—”
“Can I help it if I’m popular?”
“—and will then proceed to vandalize it and everything in the vicinity.”
“Hey, be cool.”
The older ghost bristled. “Don’t talk to me about cool, you preposterous pretender! I was cool! I was the epitome of cool! For all intents and purposes, I invented cool!”
“Can you two keep it down?” I asked a little shrilly. Sweat trickled down one side of my temple and into my eye, burning. I blinked it away and watched a few shadows slink closer. They existed only at the edge of my vision, and seemed to disappear whenever I looked directly at them. Then a spell exploded overhead, lighting up the area like a flare and giving me a clear view. Unfortunately, it did the same for my attackers. The Gothic arch above my head immediately rang with shots, causing bits of stonework to crumble on top of me as I ducked inside.
“This is ridiculous! You people are worse than the madmen Kardec attracts.” The ghosts had followed me in. Of course. “Mystic, ha! The man never even rose, yet there’s always someone praying or chanting or draping him with flowers—”
“He believed in reincarnation, man. Maybe he came back.”
I fought my way out of a large cobweb, and managed not to slip on the stone tiles, which were slick with rain and decaying leaves. “Shut up!” I whispered viciously.
The older ghost sniffed. “At least the mystics aren’t rude.”
I squinted down at the vague squiggles that were supposed to be a map and tried to ignore him. It might have been easier if I wasn’t soaking wet and filthy with a pounding headache. I really, really wanted to get out of here. But, thanks to a certain devious master vampire, that wasn’t an option.
I was prowling around a cemetery in the middle of the night, dodging guard dogs, lightning bolts and crazed war mages, because of a spell known as a geis. The vamp in question, Mircea, had had it placed on me years ago, without bothering to get my permission or even remembering to mention that he’d done it. Master vamps are like that, but in this case, there might have been more than the usual arrogance behind his forgetfulness.
On the one hand, the spell provided me protection growing up—it marked me as his, meaning that no sane vampire would touch m
e with a ten-foot pole. On the other, it was designed to ensure loyalty to a single person: exclusive, complete and utter loyalty. Now that we were both adults, the spell wanted to bind Mircea and me together forever, and it didn’t appreciate my noncooperation. That was a problem, since people have been known to go mad from this thing, even committing suicide rather than live with the constant, gnawing ache that was just one of the spell’s tricks when thwarted. But sitting back and enjoying the ride wasn’t an option, either.
If the bond ever fully formed, our lives would be run by the dominant partner—which I had no doubt would be Mircea—leaving me stuck as his eager little slave. And since he was a member in good standing of the Vampire Senate, the governing body of all North American vampires, I would doubtless end up running their errands, too. The thought of what some of those requests might be was enough to put me in a cold sweat. It was what the Circle feared—the Pythia under the control of the vamps. And while I wasn’t in favor of their method of preventing it, I could grudgingly concede the point: it would be a disaster.
Becoming Pythia had made me a target for anybody in the supernatural community who was attracted to power—in other words, pretty much everyone—but it had bought me some time as far as the spell was concerned. How much, I didn’t know. Meaning that I really needed that counterspell. And rumor was, the only grimoire that contained a copy was buried somewhere around here.
Of course, it would help if I could read the damn map. I squinted at it, but the only illumination was moonlight filtered through the remains of once beautiful stained-glass windows. Half of a seated Madonna looked out onto a charcoal gray sky, with the occasional flash of lightning outlining layered clouds. I had a flashlight, but turning it on would only make me that much better of a—
Something lunged at me out of the night. “Don’t shoot!” a man whispered.
He smelled of sweat, metal and dirt, plus a static crackle of nervous energy that was practically his signature. I turned on the flashlight and saw what I’d expected: a shock of pale hair, which as usual was making taunting gestures in the face of gravity, a square jaw, a slightly overlarge nose and furious green eyes. The Circle’s most famous renegade and my reluctant partner, John Pritkin.
I breathed a sigh of relief and clicked my gun’s safety on. To know Pritkin was to want to kill him, but so far I’d resisted temptation. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!” I whispered.
“Why didn’t you shoot me?” he demanded.
“You told me not to.”
“I—that’s—” Pritkin seemed momentarily incoherent, so I shoved the gun’s barrel lightly against his stomach. At least I’d thought it was his stomach. I’d only intended to show that I wasn’t defenseless, but in a flash, I was slammed against the side of the crypt, my gun arm pinned to the wall, my body stuck between the hard surface and a very angry war mage. I reluctantly admitted that there may have been a fantasy or two that began with this scenario, but I doubted the evening was going to end the same way.
“I knew it was you,” I told him before his ability to vocalize returned. “You smell like gunpowder and magic.” That was truer than usual because his coat, a thick leather duster that hid his weapon collection, had a large spot where the leather was crisped and curled up. Like maybe a spell hadn’t missed him by much.
“Those are mages out there!” he whispered savagely. “So do they! And what the hell are you still doing here?!”
“I have the map,” I reminded him.
“Give it to me and go!”
“And leave you here alone? There’s a dozen of them!”
“If you don’t leave right now…”
I raised my chin, even though I’d turned off the flashlight so he probably couldn’t see it. “What? You’ll shoot me?”