And then I stopped. Suddenly, vividly, recalling a certain incident in the shower that, yes, had been fairly memorable. And which I probably should have thought about more, if I hadn’t already had too much to think about.
But it was coming back to me now. Along with the explanation I’d discovered later. Which, come to think of it, didn’t really have anything to do with Mircea at all, and—
And uh-oh.
“I think,” Mircea told me evilly, “that it is time we had a talk.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Cedar? You are sure that is how it’s spelled?” Mircea demanded, as he hustled me along a crowded corridor.
“I—I’m not even sure that’s how it’s pronounced,” I told him, feeling more than a little flustered. I’d just been dragged off the desk, barely in time to snatch up my crumpled bath towel, and then towed through a door I hadn’t noticed on the other side of the room. And then through a fireplace, of all things, and into a cramped little hallway with no windows and almost no light. And then through another fireplace and a room I didn’t have time to see before we exited into a wide, brightly lit hallway that didn’t feel all that wide at the moment because it was stuffed with vampires.
Masters, by the feel of them. Make that senior masters, I thought, as I stumbled through a body, which was almost impossible to avoid in a press this tight. They deferentially made way for Mircea, but closed up again right behind him, leaving me struggling through a sea of vampires. Or more like a sea of flashing colors and sounds and half thoughts:
“—so the masters can gut you with it?”
“I don’t care. I want my damned sword—”
“A gun has better range.”
“And a sword doesn’t run out of bullets!”
“Botas malditos están demasiado ajustadas—”
The vamps didn’t seem to like the situation any more than I did. Some seemed pretty oblivious, but others jumped and flinched and stared around as I passed through them. As if they knew something was happening.
And it was; I just didn’t know what.
“What’s going on?” I asked Mircea, trying to stay as close behind him as possible, to avoid freaking out any more vamps.
“We’ve been having a problem with some illegal portals that our enemies have been using to bring in weapons,” he told me.
“Portals from faerie?”
He nodded. “Even our allies don’t seem to care who they sell to, and it’s becoming a problem.”
“So you’re going to shut them down.”
“We’re going to try.”
“And if they don’t like that?” I asked, dodging one swiftly moving form, only to hit another slam on.
“They’ll learn,” he told me, and pulled me out the other side of the wildly staring vamp.
And then into a knot of several more going in the same direction as us.
The corridor was so small, and they were grouped so tightly that it was like being swamped by a wave at the beach. An unexpected deluge of color and noise and overwhelming sensory assault. And minds and limbs and the electric buzz of a master vampire times five.
“Have you seen the dhampir? Wonder where they’re keeping her—”
“It. And who cares?”
“I care. I’ve never seen one—”
“Which would explain why you’re still here.”
“Speak for yourself. I could take her—”