I looked up and met dark, velvety eyes that looked absolutely sincere. Of course, his usually did, no matter the truth level involved. But still . . .
It was nice to have someone at least pretend to give a damn.
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it.
And then I waited, because of course he was going to attempt to talk me into it anyway. That’s what Mircea did: bring people around to the consul’s point of view. And right now, she didn’t care what price I paid for her information, she just wanted it.
Which was stupid, because it wouldn’t even help!
“What do they expect me to do?” I asked when he just stood there, giving me body heat but no arguments. “Go mind to mind, watching him slaughter the rest of them?”
“No,” someone said, but it wasn’t Mircea.
I looked up to see that Marlowe had walked over to join us, in the silent way vamps have, Mircea excepted. He always made his footsteps audible, even to human ears, maybe because he knew that anything else freaked me out. Kind of like Marlowe was doing now, although for a different reason.
Because he was talking to me, but looking at Mircea.
He didn’t seem too happy.
“We need you to try with that one,” Marlowe said, jerking his chin at a corpse—an intact one, for a change—that was being dragged forward—
By its feet.
“Stop!” I yelled, because the soldiers were smearing a broad swath of red and brown across the floor behind the corpse. They stopped, looking confused. And then just stood there while a widening stain spread across the tile.
Billy whistled, while I tried not to gag. “Gutted,” he said, speaking the obvious. “Somebody unzipped him from neck to nuts.”
“Put him down!” I told them, furious. That had been a person, a few minutes ago, and now they were dragging him around like—
Like a sack of potatoes, I thought, when they abruptly dropped him on the floor.
The old soldier wasn’t any happier. “Have a care!” He knocked one of the men’s hands away. “Or would ye want someone doing the same t’you?”
The vamp blinked at him, like the subject of his own possible mortality had never crossed his mind.
“Who is—was—he?” I asked, my hand in front of my face.
“Not one of mine, Lady, but no soldier should be handled like that!”
“Agreed,” Mircea said, and the look he turned on the two hapless soldiers was hot enough to burn. “It is time you started acting like an army, not a collection of individual squads. The other soldiers you see here are the only backup you are shortly going to have. Show them respect—all of them. They may save your life one day.”
He smiled slightly, and it was a little scary. “Or not.”
“Go wait outside,” the old soldier told them curtly. “We’ll call you when we need you!”
They fled, while I stared down at the crumpled remains of another life. He looked like a Spaniard or an Italian, or possibly from somewhere in the Middle East. He had olive skin and dark hair. I honestly couldn’t tell much more than that, because he also had a couple gallons of blood splattered all over him.
Unlike the others, who’d been killed in more usual ways, he looked like a wild animal had gotten to him.
Marlowe appeared in front of my vision. “He was on patrol, trying to cut down on the stupidity out there. He heard something, possibly saw something. Something he fought for a moment—long enough to draw attention to the area, anyway. But when my people arrived, they found him like this.”
Dark eyes met mine steadily. “Did he die for nothing?”
I felt my throat go tight. I knew what he was doing, and it was a dirty trick. Particularly now, with us standing over the damned body. But that didn’t make him wrong. This man had given his life trying to do his duty, while all I was being asked for was a little discomfort.
Okay, a lot of discomfort, because I really didn’t want to go in there!
But we were running out of time. If we were going to get anything at all, it had to be now. “Billy,” I said thickly, and felt him slip inside.