Bound by Flames (Night Prince 3)

The Joker sagged with relief. I was about to tell Vlad to burn him to death anyway, after what I’d seen of his worst sin, but before I could say anything, the Joker exploded.

I leapt away from the burning remains of the vampire. When I glanced at Vlad, he was still smiling in a friendly way. If I’d have caught that before, I would’ve known to beat a hasty retreat. Vlad was never more dangerous than when he flashed his relaxed, genial grin. It aimed my way next and I stiffened. Yeah, he was still pissed. His grin plus the fact that he hadn’t waited to detonate the Joker before I was out of the splatter path told me that.

“You’ll get a lot of ‘no’ RSVPs to your next party,” I said, brushing the smoldering bits from my costume.

His smile only widened. “This isn’t the first party I’ve thrown where fewer guests left than arrived.”

No, it wasn’t. Most of what history had recorded about Vlad Basarab Dracul, a.k.a. Dracula or Vlad “Tepesh,” meaning “the Impaler” was wrong, but some things weren’t, such as the infamous dinner in the fourteen hundreds where he slaughtered his nobles sometime between the main course and dessert. Like the Joker, those guests had had it coming, too.

I didn’t know if the Khal-Drogo-themed vampire did, but I was about to find out. Three of Vlad’s guards hustled him in front of me, not letting go because he was struggling too hard. After what had happened to the last guy I touched, I couldn’t blame him. At least I didn’t need to order that he be stripped. His upper body was mostly bare anyway.

I ignored his protests as I laid my right hand on his meaty arm. As usual, colorless images from his worst sin overtook me, proving yet again that there was nothing wrong with that aspect of my abilities. Once I was mentally back in the present, I started searching him as I had the Joker, whose remains were still smoldering on the alcove’s marble floor.

This time, I recognized one of the essence trails marking the vampire’s body. I glanced at Vlad and gave him a single, grim nod. Either the costumed Khal Drogo translated that or Vlad’s new smile terrified him, because he began to sputter out a denial.

“I knew him long ago, before everyone believed that he’d been killed. I haven’t seen him in centuries, I promise!”

Lies. The essence thread I’d felt hadn’t been faint from age. It had nearly jumped out at me from its vibrancy. I stepped away, but not to avoid another blast zone. To keep from being jostled as Samir, the new head of Vlad’s guards, immediately began to drag the vampire away. Vlad wouldn’t kill the costumed Khal Drogo for conspiring with his most dangerous enemy. No, he’d suffer a much worse fate.

“Who else?”

Vlad’s glacier tone cut through the flash of sympathy I felt for the vampire being hauled away to the dungeon. Right, I had more work to do.

After I psychically felt up four more vampires to see if they were in league with Szilagyi (they weren’t), it was time to call it a night. Or morning, as dawn was only a couple hours away. Once the sun rose, I’d be out of commission whether I wanted to be or not. Vampires didn’t burn in sunlight as legend claimed, but new vamps like me passed out at sunrise and stayed out until almost dusk. That gave Vlad plenty of time to see if our duplicitous guest knew Szilagyi’s location. I hoped so, yet I doubted it. Vlad’s oldest enemy hadn’t told any of his conspirators where he was, so unless the costumed Khal Drogo proved to be the exception, we were back to square one.

I was sick of square one, hence my talking Vlad into letting me do some psychic spying tonight. If I’d had the rest of my abilities, like seeing the future or tracking someone by following their essence trail back to their location, we might have caught Szilagyi already. But turning into a vampire had caused me to lose those, and no one knew if their loss was permanent. Right now, my psychic abilities were limited to reliving people’s worst sins and recognizing essence trails. Sounded exotic, but the former was only good for giving me nightmares and the latter wouldn’t lead us to the vampire who’d proven almost impossible to kill. Finding out who Szilagyi was in collusion with only showed how far his reach had grown, and wow, had that man been busy in the three hundred years he’d been pretending to be dead.

“Anyone else?” I asked, wiping my right hand against my leg. No matter how many times I did that, it still felt like the vile images I’d seen were stuck to me.

Vlad’s gaze swept the crowd. Nothing but blank expressions stared back at him. If anyone quailed or showed fear, they’d be guaranteeing themselves a turn under my hand.

“No, that will do,” he finally said. “Bid our remaining guests good night, Leila. I’ll escort you to our room.”

I bristled at his dismissive tone. Yes, he had gruesome plans for the rest of the evening, and no, I didn’t join in on interrogations, but he was sending me to bed like a child?

“I’m staying,” I said, my brow arching in challenge.

For a second, his shields cracked, searing me with his emotions before that invisible wall slammed down again. I wasn’t the only vampire he’d made who took a step back after getting hit with that maelstrom of rage. On the outside, Vlad looked like the very picture of self-control, but inside, he was Mount Vesuvius right before it blew.

“Then again, I’m tired,” I muttered. Obviously, we were destined for a fight, and I didn’t want to have it out with Vlad in front of hundreds of strangers.

Vlad grasped my arm and began to propel me out of the ballroom. Our guests gave us a wide berth, no doubt glad to have his attention directed away from them. I didn’t bother bidding anyone good night. After Vlad slammed the ballroom door behind us, it would have been redundant anyway. oker sagged with relief. I was about to tell Vlad to burn him to death anyway, after what I’d seen of his worst sin, but before I could say anything, the Joker exploded.

I leapt away from the burning remains of the vampire. When I glanced at Vlad, he was still smiling in a friendly way. If I’d have caught that before, I would’ve known to beat a hasty retreat. Vlad was never more dangerous than when he flashed his relaxed, genial grin. It aimed my way next and I stiffened. Yeah, he was still pissed. His grin plus the fact that he hadn’t waited to detonate the Joker before I was out of the splatter path told me that.

“You’ll get a lot of ‘no’ RSVPs to your next party,” I said, brushing the smoldering bits from my costume.

His smile only widened. “This isn’t the first party I’ve thrown where fewer guests left than arrived.”

No, it wasn’t. Most of what history had recorded about Vlad Basarab Dracul, a.k.a. Dracula or Vlad “Tepesh,” meaning “the Impaler” was wrong, but some things weren’t, such as the infamous dinner in the fourteen hundreds where he slaughtered his nobles sometime between the main course and dessert. Like the Joker, those guests had had it coming, too.

I didn’t know if the Khal-Drogo-themed vampire did, but I was about to find out. Three of Vlad’s guards hustled him in front of me, not letting go because he was struggling too hard. After what had happened to the last guy I touched, I couldn’t blame him. At least I didn’t need to order that he be stripped. His upper body was mostly bare anyway.

I ignored his protests as I laid my right hand on his meaty arm. As usual, colorless images from his worst sin overtook me, proving yet again that there was nothing wrong with that aspect of my abilities. Once I was mentally back in the present, I started searching him as I had the Joker, whose remains were still smoldering on the alcove’s marble floor.

This time, I recognized one of the essence trails marking the vampire’s body. I glanced at Vlad and gave him a single, grim nod. Either the costumed Khal Drogo translated that or Vlad’s new smile terrified him, because he began to sputter out a denial.

“I knew him long ago, before everyone believed that he’d been killed. I haven’t seen him in centuries, I promise!”

Lies. The essence thread I’d felt hadn’t been faint from age. It had nearly jumped out at me from its vibrancy. I stepped away, but not to avoid another blast zone. To keep from being jostled as Samir, the new head of Vlad’s guards, immediately began to drag the vampire away. Vlad wouldn’t kill the costumed Khal Drogo for conspiring with his most dangerous enemy. No, he’d suffer a much worse fate.

“Who else?”

Vlad’s glacier tone cut through the flash of sympathy I felt for the vampire being hauled away to the dungeon. Right, I had more work to do.

After I psychically felt up four more vampires to see if they were in league with Szilagyi (they weren’t), it was time to call it a night. Or morning, as dawn was only a couple hours away. Once the sun rose, I’d be out of commission whether I wanted to be or not. Vampires didn’t burn in sunlight as legend claimed, but new vamps like me passed out at sunrise and stayed out until almost dusk. That gave Vlad plenty of time to see if our duplicitous guest knew Szilagyi’s location. I hoped so, yet I doubted it. Vlad’s oldest enemy hadn’t told any of his conspirators where he was, so unless the costumed Khal Drogo proved to be the exception, we were back to square one.

I was sick of square one, hence my talking Vlad into letting me do some psychic spying tonight. If I’d had the rest of my abilities, like seeing the future or tracking someone by following their essence trail back to their location, we might have caught Szilagyi already. But turning into a vampire had caused me to lose those, and no one knew if their loss was permanent. Right now, my psychic abilities were limited to reliving people’s worst sins and recognizing essence trails. Sounded exotic, but the former was only good for giving me nightmares and the latter wouldn’t lead us to the vampire who’d proven almost impossible to kill. Finding out who Szilagyi was in collusion with only showed how far his reach had grown, and wow, had that man been busy in the three hundred years he’d been pretending to be dead.

“Anyone else?” I asked, wiping my right hand against my leg. No matter how many times I did that, it still felt like the vile images I’d seen were stuck to me.

Vlad’s gaze swept the crowd. Nothing but blank expressions stared back at him. If anyone quailed or showed fear, they’d be guaranteeing themselves a turn under my hand.

“No, that will do,” he finally said. “Bid our remaining guests good night, Leila. I’ll escort you to our room.”

I bristled at his dismissive tone. Yes, he had gruesome plans for the rest of the evening, and no, I didn’t join in on interrogations, but he was sending me to bed like a child?

“I’m staying,” I said, my brow arching in challenge.

For a second, his shields cracked, searing me with his emotions before that invisible wall slammed down again. I wasn’t the only vampire he’d made who took a step back after getting hit with that maelstrom of rage. On the outside, Vlad looked like the very picture of self-control, but inside, he was Mount Vesuvius right before it blew.

“Then again, I’m tired,” I muttered. Obviously, we were destined for a fight, and I didn’t want to have it out with Vlad in front of hundreds of strangers.

Vlad grasped my arm and began to propel me out of the ballroom. Our guests gave us a wide berth, no doubt glad to have his attention directed away from them. I didn’t bother bidding anyone good night. After Vlad slammed the ballroom door behind us, it would have been redundant anyway.