Pritkin pointed to me and the golem turned its blank stare in my direction. «Protect her!» The golem took his place, its empty eyes fixed on me, while its master joined the fight. I looked away from the creature, which was creeping me out more than the assassins, to see Jack rounding off against one of the remaining guards. The guard was growling, low in his throat like an animal, but Jack looked like a kid on Christmas morning, all flushed cheeks and bright eyes. He waved Pritkin off with an impatient gesture that clearly said, This one's mine.
The other guard was out of the picture, clawing at his chest where blood was welling up around the rapier that had been thrust completely through him, as if his heavy chain mail wasn't even there. Its blade stuck almost a foot out of his back, glinting a dull red in the flickering light of the chandeliers. I'd always thought rapiers were dainty, almost effeminate things when I'd seen them in the movies, but apparently I'd been wrong. This one had a wicked blade, as if a double-edged dagger had been stretched out to an inch wide and three feet long. As I fought to get a breath, Louis-Cesar pulled it out of the vamp's chest and, in the same, flowing motion, decapitated him. It was done with a liquid speed that fooled my eyes for a moment into believing he'd missed. Then the head fell off the neck and bounced across the floor.
The vamp's eyelids were fluttering and his fangs were bared when his head rolled to a halt not a foot away from me, its helmet miraculously still on. I swear the mouth moved, snapping on empty air as if trying to reach my neck, even as his life's blood spread around him in a widening stain. I must have been making some type of strangled noise, or else the golem perceived the head as a threat, because it quickly kicked it away. That would have been nice, except that it overestimated the weight and sent it sailing across the Senate table to thud wetly against the wall behind the belle's careful coiffure.
A trail of blood marred the shining tabletop in front of her and a spray of droplets descended on her hair, where they sparkled like tiny rubies. She fished the head out from under the table and politely offered it to her companion, who equally politely declined. He was busy cleaning up the table by holding his hand over the spilled blood. Droplets flew up to meet his palm like they were iron and he was a magnet. As with Tomas earlier, they disappeared into his skin like lotion. «This sort of thing is getting tiresome,» he said conversationally, and the belle nodded in between licks of the glistening spine that peeped out of the ruined neck of her prize.
I had to close my eyes for a moment and fight to keep my stomach in place, but at least I wasn't screaming. First, it wouldn't have looked strong in front of the Senate, and that would be bad. Second, my throat was still raw from almost getting strangled earlier. Third, I couldn't get enough air, thanks to Tomas' weight. I tried to shift him to one side, but it was like trying to move a marble statue. He only pressed down harder until I cried out in pain; then his body softened, melting against me like a warm satin comforter. It might have been soothing except that I couldn't breathe deeply or move, and Jack and the other guard had danced dangerously close.
I didn't understand why no one had killed the guard, especially since he had drawn his huge battle-axe and was looking at me with the single-minded concentration most guys reserve for the Playboy channel. If the Senate wanted me dead, wouldn't it have been easier to let Tony do it for them? And if they didn't, why wasn't Louis-Cesar doing an encore of his previous performance instead of simply standing there? Maybe he figured the guard would never get past Pritkin, Rafe and Tomas, but I wasn't so sure. The axe blade looked awfully sharp to me, and I knew how fast vamps could move. All the guard needed was a split second and I would be the main course for Miss Georgia 1860 whenever she finished her appetizer. But no one did anything except for Tomas, and he merely crawled higher up my body, to the point that he would have been able to give a detailed report on the lace pattern in my bra if he'd been asked. He looked calm, but I could feel his heart jumping against my skin. It wasn't comforting to know that he was worried, too.
I looked past his dark head to where flames from the candles were dancing along the axe's huge blade, which was all of about four yards away. As I stared, the guard lunged towards me, gnashing his teeth like a cornered tiger, and it was all over as suddenly as it had started. Jack was a streak of ugly, dark green fabric and a flash of pale hands. I blinked, and the guard was on the ground, his limbs pinned down by four large knives buried through his flesh in the underlying stone. Two of them were substantial things with old wood handles, like they might once have been kitchen implements. The others were the shiny silver pieces belonging to the mage, who called them back to him with a gesture once Jack was in control of the captive. They tore out of the vamp with an audible ripping sound and flew to him, one settling into the wrist sheath and the other disappearing down his boot. He hadn't even bothered to use the ones at his waist. He and the golem moved off to allow Tomas to haul me to my feet. Although he'd just helped save my life, his eyes were cold when he looked at me, like chips of green ice.