And I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
The snake queen was living up to her rep today in a full-length sheath of the little monsters, bright yellow in this case, with subtle markings in black and gray. From a distance, it might look like a patterned dress, if you ignored the way the “pattern” slithered and writhed. From up close, it was frankly horrific.
It was also strange. Not that I hadn’t seen the consul wear similar things before, but usually only in a full senate meeting or when she needed to impress—aka intimidate the crap out of someone. Otherwise, she usually opted for more normal clothing, albeit with a snake or two as accessories.
But today we were getting the full treatment, including matching bright yellow nails tipped in black. I wondered if there was a reason for that. And then I wondered what was wrong with me, because of course there was a reason! A few thousand of them—vampires from all over the world, many of whom rivaled her in power—who were crawling all over this place.
Not that she was showing the strain. We were about to invade another world, while every enemy she had in this one was probably somewhere on the grounds, plotting. Yet she looked as cool and calm as always. But her little pets had started to slither a bit faster, and her eyes were a tad too intense.
She thought I was about to make her look bad, I realized.
Somewhere, some poor bastard was chiseling out a sixteen-foot example of my supposed power, but that was just propaganda, wasn’t it? Like that damned painting. She and Mircea had sold the rest of the vampire world on her leadership of the coalition partly on the basis of my supposed power.
What would happen, I wondered, if everyone realized it was a lie?
I licked my lips and looked up at Mircea, whose jaw was tight. “The Pythia has had a long day,” he said. “I can call one of my own bokors. He’ll be here in less than an hour.”
“That will be too long,” the old knight said, taking away my only lifeline without realizing it. “I saw a necromancer at work once, after a battle. I admonished him to wait until the wounded had been carried off the field, but he said that he could not. The memories fade after more than an hour, and sometimes less. We must act now!”
I swallowed and looked about, but didn’t see any way out of this. Well, except for maybe one. I got up and walked over to the bodies, as if to pick out the best candidate, but in reality I barely saw them. I was too busy giving Billy Joe a mental poke.
I could feel him resting comfortably in the necklace nestled between my breasts. His talisman was old and ugly, but also invisible to human eyes—and hopefully vampire ones—thanks to a little chameleon ward that an old friend had given me. It hid any magical devices or weapons I wore, to keep them from being taken whenever I landed in trouble. Some of the fey had been able to see through the disguise, if they were making an effort, although if Caedmon could, he gave no sign.
If he wanted to see what I could do, there were better ways, I thought, sending him a look.
He just smiled back encouragingly, which enraged me even more for some reason. Maybe because the asshole didn’t get what was at stake here. He could ruin the whole damned alliance with his little joke!
I saw his eyes flash as if he’d heard the insult. I didn’t know if he had; who the hell knew what he could do? But just in case, I sent him a few more.
His eyes might have widened a little, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure about anything except that Billy wasn’t waking up, damn him! Which was a problem, since the only person in our family who had ever picked up anything from a brain was him!
“Damn it! Quit poking me in the ass,” he grumped, finally bothering to roust himself. A moment later, a surly head poked out of my torso to glare at me.
Technically, it was sticking out of his necklace, but it was at a weird angle, making it look like I’d grown another head. The visual and the abruptness almost made me lose my balance—damned high heels! But I recovered and crouched down in front of a pile of limbs and broken bodies, none of which seemed to go together, as if I was studying them.
And then realized that I couldn’t talk to him like this.
“Well, what is it?” he demanded.
I looked at him numbly.
“Cat got your tongue?”
Get inside, get inside, get inside, I thought at him, which of course didn’t help. I am not a telepath, and neither is Billy. We have a weird sort of connection that neither of us understands, but it does
n’t stretch to sharing a brain—thank God. I’d hate to see what was in Billy’s head, although I was pretty sure it would be prettier than what I was looking at right now.
Beer and boobies, I thought randomly, and heard Caedmon turn a laugh into a sneeze.
“Sorry,” he told everyone. “Is it drafty in here?”
“Holy shit!” Billy said, suddenly noticing the seven-foot-tall, glowing fey. And then the snake-draped queen. And the seriously tense master vamp—a number of them. And they didn’t all belong to the consul, or she wouldn’t be this worried.
I was running out of time.
And then Billy noticed the bodies.
“What the actual fuck?”