I didn’t know who had provided him with the booze, but it didn’t surprise me. Mircea made a damned good-looking prisoner, even half naked because he’d lost the robe somewhere. Maybe especially half naked, I thought, noting the way that glorious hair tumbled over the strong shoulders. The Pythian Court was composed mainly of inexperienced young women. I was just surprised that he didn’t have a bed, a bunch of cushions, and a three-course meal in there as well.
Not that he looked like he wanted any of that, or anything at all. He was as closed down as I’d ever seen him, the dark eyes hooded, the shoulders slumped and the usual fire banked. Or maybe out, I thought worriedly, because he didn’t even look up when I flashed in.
Until he smelled me, I guessed, and I suddenly found myself enveloped in a hug hard enough to force all the air out of my lungs.
“You’re alive!” Mircea pulled back about the time asphyxiation started, and stared at me, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Alive,” I agreed, when I could talk. “You expected otherwise?”
“I didn’t know!” The dark eyes flashed. And there it was, fire aplenty. “They wouldn’t tell me anything and I can’t communicate in here. Can’t read anyone’s mind, can’t send any messages, can’t even feel anyone’s presence! Just silence.” He looked around, and the eyes, the constantly mercurial eyes, took on another expression. Almost haunted. “It’s like a tomb.”
“That’s basically what it is,” I said, as his hands kept smoothing over my head, as if he needed the reassurance that I wasn’t a phantom. He found the egg, which was now the size of a hummingbird’s, but still seriously sore, and his face changed once again.
“You’re not all right, are you?”
“Well enough.” I sat on the bench. “I have a hard head.”
“You almost didn’t have one at all, thanks to me!” Mircea didn’t sit down. Now that he finally had company, it didn’t look like he could. There was tension in every line of his body, like a damn about to burst, which might not be far from the truth.
This place was unsettling enough for anyone, but for a vampire . . . it must be close to torture. A master, especially, hadn’t been alone in his head for centuries. His people, the Children he’d sired, were always there, chatting, gossiping, reporting, questioning. It was a constant cacophony that successful vamps had to learn to tone down or at least ignore, or risk going mad.
And for Mircea, whose other master power was mental communication . . . yeah. He’d had a fun afternoon, hadn’t he? Because he was right; there was nothing in here but silence, echoing and vast.
I wondered what he’d heard in the quiet?
A lot, apparently.
“This is my fault, I know that,” he told me agitatedly. “I should be focused on the war. I have a thousand things, every day, clamoring for my attention. I was working on them, after we returned, but then that new ability reared its head. I saw Elena and that creature, saw her give Dory over to him, and I—”
He broke off, a fearsome scowl on his features, his eyes full of memories. And then he shook his head, almost violently, to clear them. And it worked. I could almost see him come back.
But how long would it last?
“I don’t know what came over me,” he finished simply.
I sat there for a second, because I didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to go there. But there was no longer any other option. “Yes, you do.”
Mircea had finally started pacing, but at that he turned around. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” I held his gaze steadily, as Gertie had done to me. He didn’t look like he found it nearly as uncomfortable as I had.
“No, I really don’t.”
“Obsession, Mircea. The vampire curse. It’s happening.”
He frowned. “That’s superstition—an old wives’ tale—”
“Really. So, you deliberately risked my life, then?”
He blinked at me, as if caught off guard, which would have been enough to let me know that something was wrong.
Mircea was never off guard.
“I would never do that,” he protested. “You know me better than—”
“And you know me. You knew I’d have to follow you. You weren’t even surprised to see me.”
He nodded. “I thought you would, yes. But I didn’t think it would matter. I wasn’t there to interfere; I just wanted to understand. But then the fey showed up and—”