I could have reassured him, if he'd have believed anything I had to say. Most vamps wouldn't be able to feed from him easily, if at all. His wards were almost certainly too strong—he would have had to drop them for Rafe to complete the demonstration—and his training would probably tell him that some form of threat was being made. But a norm wouldn't notice a thing, except perhaps for a slight feeling of lethargy. Vamps only left a fang-marked body behind in the movies, or if they were making a point. Tony would no doubt be receiving some shortly.
Louis-Cesar took that minute to decide that Mircea had had enough fun for one day. «If you are so interested in our habits, Mage Pritkin, I can recommend several excellent treatises for you to study. This, however, is not the time.» He looked at his colleague. «The day is passing, and the night will be full. May we proceed?»
Mircea inclined his head and sprawled elegantly back onto the couch, pausing to remove his suit jacket and toss it over the coffee table. He also loosened the top fastening of his high-collared shirt, as if the room had suddenly grown too warm. The shirt was a thick eggshell silk made in a Chinese pattern, with little toggles holding it together instead of buttons. The material had a lustrous sheen, the kind that made you want to run your hands over it to see if it felt as buttery soft as it looked, but no design. His suit was also plain, unrelieved black, but on him the understated look worked. It was like a simple frame around a fine painting: all you saw was the total effect, and it was stunning. I shifted in my thick robe. I agreed with him—the room was way too warm.
Pritkin's skin had turned the color of old mushrooms. I think some of the implications had started to dawn on him. He turned on Mircea. «Can you make more vampires in such ways? Can you call your victims?» I bit my lip.
Pritkin had definitely been out to lunch when Vampire 101 was in session. His ignorance made it seem odd that the Silver Circle would have sent him as their liaison to the Senate. From things the mages at Tony's had said, I'd gotten the idea that the war mages had different branches, each of which concentrated on a different major category of non-humans—vamps, weres, demons, Fey, and magical creatures like dragons. It made me wonder what his specialty was.
Louis-Cesar frowned at him, maybe thinking the same thing, and Mircea held out a hand to me theatrically. «Come to me, Cassandra,» he thundered. «I command you!» His usual slight accent had thickened to the point that he sounded like Bela Lugosi. I smiled in spite of myself. Mircea's sense of humor was notoriously horrible, but it did help to break the tension.
I snuggled closer against the softness of the overstuffed armchair. «Thanks for the offer, but I'm quite comfortable where I am.» In fact, the couch looked far more attractive at the moment, which made staying where I was a very good idea. I knew perfectly well that part of my trouble was the aftereffects of the feeding, but Mircea would have tempted a saint all on his own. I didn't need any more complications, especially with a Senate member. He might genuinely like me, but in the end, he'd do whatever the Consul wanted. They all would.
Mircea was taunting Pritkin. «You see, my friend? Nothing. She spurns me. My allure must not be as strong as I thought.»
«Only a bite can allow us to call one of you,» Tomas told him shortly. He glanced at me, and his eyes were black with some emotion I couldn't read.
I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to start a debate. But the truth was that, even if Mircea had bitten me, it probably wouldn't have made a difference. Vampires could control most norms through their bite: one was usually enough, two always were, and after three, the victim became a vamp bound to his or her master, so it was a moot point. But Tony had bitten me twice to ensure loyalty, once when I was a child and then again after my return to him as a teenager. Yet, if he'd been trying to summon me—a safe bet—it had failed.
My theory was that my constant association with ghosts had interrupted the signal. Billy Joe was almost always with me and I constantly wore his necklace, which bound us together even when we were apart. And vamps can't read ghosts. One of the points Billy had used to make our deal was that, with luck, he'd run a kind of spiritual interference. Maybe it had worked, or maybe I was one of the few who had natural resistance to the call. I doubted that, since it was usually only the case with particularly powerful magic users, but weirder things had happened. Hell, weirder things happened to me all the time.
Mircea was looking at me with exaggerated longing, and I smiled. «You could always join me.» The minute I said it, I wanted to take it back. A clear head was impossible around him, and I wanted whatever abilities I had to be sharp. But I needn't have worried. Mircea looked for a moment like he was considering it, then smiled and shook his head.