The ghosts flowed into the house, some pouring through the door, some sliding through the walls. Watching them pull free of the wood, you almost expected a sound, like a plop, but it was utterly quiet. The undead make no noise.
The ghosts bounced along the ceiling like helium-filled balloons, poured down the walls in back of the throne like milky water. They were translucent near the candle flames, like bubbles.
Serephina sat down in the corner on her throne. Magnus curled in the cushions at her feet. There was a flash of anger in his eyes, there, and gone. He wasn't enjoying being Serephina's boy toy. That got him an extra point in my book.
"Come sit by me, Jean-Claude," Serephina said. She motioned to the cushions on the opposite side from Magnus. They'd have made an interesting pair.
"No," Jean-Claude said. That one word was warning enough. I drew my hand slowly from Jason's. If we really were going to fight, I'd need both hands.
Serephina laughed, and with that sound her power broke open and crashed on us poor humans.
The power rode down on me like pounding horses. My whole body vibrated with it. My mouth was too dry to swallow, and I couldn't quite get a full breath of air. She didn't have to touch me to hurt me. She could just sit on her throne and throw power at me. She could grind my bones into dust from a nice safe distance.
Something touched my arm. I jerked and turned, and it felt like slow motion. It has hard to focus on Jean-Claude's face, but once I did, the grinding power receded like the ocean pulling back from the shore.
I took a deep, shuddering breath, then another; every breath was firmer. "Illusion," I whispered. "Fucking illusion."
"Yes, ma petite." He turned from me and went to Larry and Jason, who were still standing spellbound.
I looked back at the throne. The ghosts had formed a glowing nimbus around her; most impressive. But not nearly as impressive as her eyes. I had one wild glimpse of eyes that seemed to go on forever, then I stared at the hem of her white dress as hard as I could.
"Can you not meet my gaze?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Can you really be that powerful a necromancer when you cannot even meet my eyes?"
I wasn't just not meeting her eyes. I was hunched over. I straightened but didn't move my eyes. "You're only about six hundred years old." I raised my eyes slowly, inch by inch up the white dress until I could see her chin. "How the hell did you get to be this powerful in that amount of time?"
"Such bravado. Meet my eyes and I will answer you."
I shook my head. "I don't want to know that badly."
She chuckled, and the sound was low and dark. It slid down my spine like something loathsome and half-alive. "Ah, Janos, Ivy, so good of you to join us."
Janos glided through the door with Ivy at his side. Janos looked more human than he had since I'd first met him. His skin was pale but fleshy. His face was still thin, and he couldn't have passed for completely human, but he looked less monstrous. He also looked healed.
"Shit."
"Is something wrong, necromancer?" Serephina asked.
"I hate to waste that many bullets."
She gave that low chuckle again. It made my skin feel tight. "Janos is very talented."
He walked past us. I could see bullet holes in his shirt. At least I'd ruined his wardrobe.
Ivy looked dandy. Had she run when the shooting started? Had she left Bruce to die?
Janos went down on one knee among the cushions. Ivy knelt with him. They stayed there, head bent, waiting for her to notice them.
Kissa moved to stand beside Magnus, bleeding, her arm held close to her side. But she glanced from the two kneeling vampires to Serephina, and back again. She looked... worried.
Something was up. Something unpleasant.
She left them kneeling, and said, "What business brings you to me, Jean-Claude?"
"I believe you have something that belongs to me," he said.
"Janos," she said.
Janos rose to his feet and went back out the door. He was out of sight only a moment, then came back carrying a large cloth sack like something Santa Claus would have carried. He untied the cord that held it shut and emptied the contents on the floor at Jean-Claude's feet. Splinters of wood, none of them big enough to make a decent stake, fell into a medium-sized pile. The wood was dark and polished where it wasn't white with new cuts.
"With my compliments," Janos said. He shook the last bits of wood out of the sack and knelt back on the steps.
Jean-Claude stared down at the splintered wood. "This is childish, Serephina. Something I would have expected from you centuries ago. Now..." He motioned at the ghosts, at everything. "How have you managed to subdue Janos? You feared him once."