Cassandra Palmer 1(22)
I met those narrowed green eyes and something that looked almost like fear crossed over them for a second. His hand moved to the knife in a sheath on his wrist, and for a moment, I actually thought he was going to throw it at me. Rafe must have thought so, too, for he tensed, but the Consul's voice cut in before anyone could move. «The Silver Circle was once great, Pritkin. Do you tell us that you cannot protect one of your own merely because she roams beyond the fold? Have you become so weak?»
His face darkened with anger and his hand continued to fondle the knife, although it stayed in its little leather holder. I looked into those crystalline green eyes and suddenly the picture came together. I knew who, or at least what, he was. The Silver Circle was said to have a group of mages who were trained in combat techniques, both human and magical, who enforced their will. The mages at Tony's had been scared to death of them because they were authorized to kill rogue magic users on sight. Mages who pissed off the Circle weren't allowed ever to use magic again; if they did and were discovered, it was a death sentence. But why had the Silver Circle sent a freaking war mage after me? Most people even in the magical community treat clairvoyants like shysters with no more ability than a Halloween witch; we don't even register on the radar for them. But the fact that there are a lot of con artists doesn't mean that some of us aren't real. I wondered if the Circle had finally come to that conclusion, too, and decided to start eliminating rivals to their power, beginning with me. It sounded like my kind of luck.
If the mage attacked me while I was under the Senate's protection, I was pretty sure they could kill him and get away with it. Even the Silver Circle couldn't protest the death of one of their members if he'd brought it on himself. The odds were good, then, that he wouldn't kill me, but I still sent Tomas a glare. He could have given back my gun once we'd arrived. It wasn't like I could hurt any of the Senate with it, even if I was crazy enough to try, and it would have been a comfort. Especially if he'd planned on letting war mages come in armed to the teeth.
«She already bears our greatest ward. She drew strength from all of us tonight; it was not only your vampire who saved her!»
«No, it was a joint effort, as this entire enterprise must be,» GQ cut in smoothly. I was surprised that anyone dared to speak for the Consul, but no one challenged him or even seemed to find it odd. Maybe the Senate was a democratic bunch, but if so, they'd be the first vamps I knew who fit that category. The hierarchy at Tony's was based on strength, with «might makes right» pretty much the only rule. The other families were the same, as far as I knew. The Senate ruled because they were strong enough to scare even vamps like Tony, which meant the redhead couldn't be as harmless as he looked, or they'd have eaten him alive years ago.
To my surprise, GQ acknowledged that I was in the room instead of simply talking about me like I was a stick of furniture. «Allow me to introduce myself. I am Louis-Cesar,» he said and executed a damn good bow. «A votre service, mademoiselle.» His eyes were intent as he looked at me, but he'd toned it down some. I no longer had the impression that I might be on the menu.
Unlike most twenty-first-century females, I know the proper response to a formal bow. Both the governess and chief tutor Tony assigned me had been born in the Victorian era, so I can curtsy with the best of them. I thought I'd forgotten most of that early training, but something about Louis-Cesar made it come flooding back. He missed the no doubt amusing sight of me trying to live up to nanny's standards in blood-spattered four-inch go-go boots and a micro-mini because he was looking at the Consul again.
I was so focused on the scene at the high table that I completely failed to notice the second attempt on my life that night. My first clue was when a wave of power hit me like a sandstorm had blown up out of nowhere. Hot, stinging flecks scoured my cheeks for a second, before Tomas shoved Rafe aside and tackled me, hard enough to knock the breath out of my lungs when we slammed into the floor. I was faceup, which allowed me to see two of the chamber guards standing immobile in the middle of the room, their flesh slowly evaporating from their bones like it was being eaten off by invisible insects. A second later, the bare skeletons crashed to the floor, hearts and brains having disappeared along with the rest of their soft tissue.
I barely saw what happened next because none of it was at normal human speed, and Pritkin was in my way. He was beside me in a crouch with a wicked-looking knife in one hand and a gun in the other. Another knife and a couple of small vials hovered in the air beside his head, as if held by invisible strings. For a second, I thought he'd decided to take me out with the whole Senate watching, but he wasn't looking at me. The statue I'd seen by the door earlier was suddenly beside us. Despite the fact that it had only vague indentations for eyes, it seemed to be looking at Pritkin as if awaiting orders. I recognized what it was now that I saw it move, although I'd never seen one before. Golems had been feared by the wizards Tony employed only slightly less than the war mages. They were clay figures brought to life by ancient Hebrew Kabbalah magic. Originally, they ran errands for rabbis strong enough to create them. Maybe some still did, but these days most served the knights, as the war mages were properly called.