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He was referring to the ability of master vampires to pull blood particles through the air, without the need to do the Bela Lugosi thing. I’d seen Mircea drain a guy dry in a few seconds once, but while it was damned impressive, it wouldn’t work here. “He’ll have a shield up—”

“I can drain a man even through a shield. But it takes longer.”

“How long?”

“For the average mage . . .” He shrugged. “Thirty seconds to incapacitate; perhaps a minute to kill. But with stronger shields, war-mage strength, for instance, multiply that by five.”

I didn’t think the mage had that kind of shield, but what did I know? I hadn’t thought he’d be able to kidnap my mother, either. “So worst-case scenario, two and a half minutes to unconsciousness.”

“From across a room, yes. But if I am right on top of him . . . perhaps cut that by two-thirds.”

I didn’t stop moving, but I stared at him incredulously. “You can drain a war mage to unconsciousness in fifty seconds—through his shields?”

“It depends on the mage, and I do not know this one’s capacities. But normally—”

“Normally?”

His lips quirked. “Let us say, it is what I would expect.”

I decided not to ask what he was basing that on.

“Still, two and a half minutes isn’t bad,” I said hopefully. “We might be able to keep them in sight for that long.”

“Yes, but if I try it from a distance, he will almost certainly notice before I can incapacitate him. And then they will either shift away or attack.”

“And we can’t afford for them to do either.”

“No.” He looked frustrated. “Normally, I would call on the family to assist, but I have never cared for London and do not keep a residence here

. And while I could borrow people from another senator—”

“We don’t have time.”

“No.”

“Then we’re on our own.” And for some reason, I felt the tension relax in my neck.

It must have in my voice, too, because Mircea looked at me narrowly. “Is there a reason you suddenly sound relieved ?”

“It’s not . . . relief exactly. It’s just that . . . well, it’s fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants time, isn’t it?”

“And that is a good thing?”

“No, but it’s . . . sort of familiar.”

He closed his eyes. “Do you know, dulceat?a?, there are times when I truly believe you are the most frightening person I know.”

I blinked. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

And then we didn’t say anything else. Because we spotted them.

Chapter Eleven

It wasn’t hard, considering that they almost ran us down. There were a lot of vehicles on the street—mostly small, two-wheeled contraptions with a covered area in front, a driver perched high on a seat in back, and a single horse. But there was only one being driven by a girl in an electricblue party dress.

And barreling straight down the middle of the sidewalk.


Tags: Karen Chance Cassandra Palmer Fantasy