«Don't put words in my mouth.» I noticed that none of the vamps were bothering to defend themselves. Maybe they were tired of it, or didn't think Pritkin worth the trouble. Or maybe they doubted that he'd believe anything they had to say. They were probably right, but I didn't feel like giving him the last word. «Vamps don't waste blood, ever, so any living enemies are dealt with like this. But they are allowed a second chance, which from what I hear is more than your Circle gives rogue magic users. Only vamps get an automatic death sentence for defiance.»
Pritkin watched helplessly as the human tried to crawl away on his bound limbs, his eyes still wide with shock, but he was hobbled by his exhaustion and the tight restraints. Lack of blood made him clumsy, and he slipped twice on the sticky floor. He finally made it to the door by using an undulating wiggle, but it did him little good since he couldn't get the latch open. He tried using his mouth, but failed, and had to turn and face the room again to give his bound hands access to the door. I finally felt a twinge of pity for him, despite the fact that he'd probably have put a bullet in my brain earlier without a second thought. It was hard to think of him as a cold-blooded killer, with his flaccid sex drooping between his sticky thighs, and his neck and groin oozing thin lines of blood that he couldn't wipe away. I was really glad that he didn't meet anyone's eyes this time.
Pritkin's face was angry when he turned to me. «You're telling me they punish their own people more than outsiders? You lie. Monsters understand nothing of mercy!»
I shrugged. «Believe what you want, but it's true. You don't see any vamps here, do you? If any were taken prisoner, they'll have been staked by now.» Assuming they responded well to questioning. If not, Jack was probably having a field day.
«It isn't a matter of mercy, Mage Pritkin, I assure you,» Rafe put in, his eyes on the man who was now all but clawing at the door with his bound hands. «We simply do not feel that your people are much of a threat.» Pritkin made a sound of disgust and marched over to swing open the door. The man fell backwards into the hall, and several servants looked at him in surprise before hauling him away for his lecture. I doubted he needed it.
«So how do they usually feed? Do you expect me to believe they won't finish what they started later, when there are no witnesses?» Pritkin obviously wasn't going to let it go. I couldn't believe he didn't know. I had never seen a mage show surprise at Tony's during a feeding. Maybe they had simply learned to school their faces, but my impression had been that it wasn't a big secret. Yet Pritkin seemed genuinely confused. What the hell do they teach war mages, anyway?
I looked at Mircea. «You want to show him?»
Mircea laughed delightedly. «I would love to, dulceata, but I don't trust myself. The temptation to rid us of his annoying presence would be too great, and the Consul said most specifically that he was not to be harmed unless he gave cause.» He slid his eyes in Pritkin's direction. «And alas, so far he has behaved himself.»
«I meant with me.»
«No.» Tomas spoke up, causing me to jump slightly in surprise. He'd been so quiet that I'd almost forgotten he was there. «She is not to be harmed.»
«I think, Tomas, that is the point our dear Cassandra is trying to make,» Mircea replied. «That, done properly, it is not harmful.» He looked at me. «You must have been a frequent donor at court, yes? You understand the procedure?»
I nodded. «Yep, not to mention feeding a ravenous ghost on occasion.» Having done both, I knew that what the vamps did was little different than Billy Joe's feedings, except that he could absorb life energy directly and they had to get it through blood. Billy was able to skip that step, a good thing since his body was somewhere at the bottom of the Mississippi. He'd have trouble metabolizing even a liquid diet.
Mircea glided over with that peculiar grace of his. All the undead have it, but he made even most vamps look clumsy. He was an old hand at this; I knew he wouldn't hurt me and he was too full to take much. It was Billy Joe I would have liked to throttle—if the coward hadn't run off somewhere. Billy's feedings normally didn't bother me, since I could replenish the energy he took with food and rest. But he knew the rules about how much I was willing to donate at once, and tonight he'd broken them all to hell.
«What are you going to do?» Pritkin started forward, but Tomas would not let him by. Neither looked happy.
«Make sure he has a good view, Tomas,» Mircea said, looking down at me thoughtfully. «I will do this only once. Cassandra is already tired, and we have much to talk about. I do not wish to put her to sleep.» He smiled and cupped my chin in his hand. He felt warm, but then, he always did. The old ones don't have temperature fluctuations based on whether they have eaten recently or not. «I will not hurt you,» he promised.