Ride the Storm (Cassandra Palmer 8) - Page 53

Because they had power almost beyond your comprehension. Because they made anyone who forgot that very, very sorry or very, very dead. Because ruling with an iron fist wasn’t the exception; it was the rule, and you knew the rule and feared the rule and kept the rule, their rule, their law, because anything else was unthinkable.

At least it had been, until today.

I didn’t know exactly what the senate would do now; I’d never seen them challenged like this. No one had. But I knew what a master vampire would do with his back against the wall, his power and authority in question, and his enemies gunning for him and everything he held dear.

And the senate had many, many more resources than any single vamp. So whatever form it took, their response would be big, it would be swift, and it would be vicious. I stared at the darkened Dante’s sign, what little I could see of it, and a shudder went through me.

Marco hugged my shoulders again. “Come on, there’s been enough of that for one day. You need to eat—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am,” he lied, “and I’m going to order the biggest steak I can find. If you’re nice, I might give you a bite.”

I smiled slightly.

“And in the meantime, I thought you might like to see someone.”

“Someone?”

Marco looked at me mockingly. “No, you don’t need to eat at all.”

“What?” I blinked at him. And then I remembered. “Rhea!”

He grinned at me, the cigar clamped firmly between big white teeth.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I’d like to see her.”

“Thought so.”

He pulled me out the door.

The hallway outside felt odd, too, although this time, I knew exactly why. “Where are all the cots?”

It should have been full of them, or else they should have been scattered in my bedroom, tripping me up on the way to the balcony. I had a couple dozen initiates who all needed a place to sleep, which was why this place had been lousy with cots lately—in the bedrooms, living room, and lounge. Or, when the girls were up, stacked in the corners of the hallway so we had room to walk.

But now there was nothing.

“We made other arrangements,” Marco said, lips twitching.

“What other arrangements?”

“You know, that can probably wait.”

“Marco.” I grabbed a forearm the size of my leg. Or maybe a little bigger, ’cause skinny legs have always been a bane of my existence. “Where is my court?”

“They’re fine,” he told me, reassuringly. “And they’re close,” he added, when I still looked alarmed, because my court managed to get in almost as much trouble as I did.

Then he shushed me, having just cracked open the door to the guest bedroom down the hall.

It was dark, too, but the drapes were open on a wall of windows, showing glimmers of the golden city beyond. It was also empty, except for a lump under the bedspread and a vamp in a chair. The vamp was reading a book, because to his eyes the room was perfectly well lit. But he looked up when we peered inside.

I couldn’t tell what the book was, but the vamp was Rico, dark good looks showing to advantage in jeans and a tight white tee, and raising a finger to his lips before we said anything.

“How is she?” I whispered, to either of them, because they could both hear me just fine.

“Better,” Marco said, after a pause, probably to ask Rico mentally. “Doc was here earlier, said she’s gonna be out of it for a few days, and easily winded for a week after that, while her body replaces the blood she lost. That bastard of a mage did a number on her.”

“He didn’t,” I said, my eyes on Rhea.

Tags: Karen Chance Cassandra Palmer Fantasy
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