Cassandra Palmer 1(78)

I don't know if Tomas hadn't dealt with war mages before, but he underestimated this one. One of Pritkin's tiny vials flew at Tomas' head, splashing him with a red substance that looked like blood but burned like acid. Tomas didn't release him, but the stuff had gotten into his eyes and he was momentarily blind. Pritkin made an odd gesture, like jerking on an invisible rope, and the two knives sticking out of the golem came flying back to him. One hit Tomas in the leg and the other almost severed his left wrist. He went to one knee and Pritkin managed to break away. He dodged a knife thrown by Louis-Cesar, leapt out of the way of Tomas' thrashing limbs, and pointed both his guns at me.



I didn't think; I reacted, which is probably what saved me. My hand jerked up and two gaseous knives flew at Pritkin, knocking the guns out of his hands as he fired. He got several bullets off anyway, but they disappeared harmlessly into the golem's clay. I glanced at it in surprise. It looked so awkward; it was hard to believe how fast it could move. At a word from its enraged master it was suddenly gone, and a second later was across the room battling with Louis-Cesar. The Frenchman plunged his rapier into it again and again, but it had no vital organs to hit. He dodged its blows, despite the fact that they were so fast I could barely see them, but it was slowly driving him back towards the. far wall and away from the fight.

Pritkin yelled something and threw himself at me, a grenade in his palm. Tomas, who launched himself at him like he'd been fired from a cannon, froze in midair and crashed to the ground where he lay, unmoving. A split second later I understood why, when what felt like a giant, invisible hand grabbed me, holding me and my bracelet motionless. It was similar to the trick the dark mage had used, only there was no one to counter it this time. Pritkin vaulted over Tomas and dodged around Rafe, who had also been caught in the spell. The whole room was a frozen tableau, and I saw a grim smile flash across the mage's face. His eyes met mine, and I knew the crazy man was actually going to kill me, even if he died for it.

But Pritkin and I had both forgotten Mircea. He came out of nowhere, a dark blur across my vision, grabbed the mage, broke his wrist, and threw the grenade out the window. While I was still blinking in surprise, Mircea grabbed Pritkin around the throat and lifted him off the ground. Louis-Cesar vaulted over the sofa a second later, the golem in pieces behind him, but I saw the realization cross his face that he would have been too late.




I still couldn't move, but Raphael had managed to throw off the spell and was batting at a couple of little vials that had homed in on him, using Mircea's discarded coat so that he didn't have to touch them. Then the grenade's explosion rocked the room, sending plaster raining down from the ceiling and shards of glass flying past the heavy curtain to scatter across the floor. The invisible hand finally released me and I coughed, falling back into the chair, choking on plaster dust and almost deaf from the loud ringing in my ears.



I shot a wild glance at Pritkin, but he was well and truly immobilized. His arsenal was another thing, but Louis-Cesar had started chanting something under his breath that made the flying pieces sluggish. Rafe grabbed two vials that were hovering in front of his face and stuffed them in the fireplace basket after dumping a dried flower arrangement all over the tiles. He shut the wicker lid and then gathered up the other bits and pieces of the flying arsenal and added them to his collection. I could see the lid bump slightly up and down as his captives struggled to get free. One of the ones he missed tried to sneak up on me, moving slowly across the floor unnoticed by everyone else. I stared at it, wondering what defense wouldn't shatter the glass and end up dousing me with the contents after all, but my bracelet knew how to fight better than I did. It pulled my arm up and sent a knife to shatter against the vial. The tiny container evaporated with a pop, leaving only an odd, musty smell behind.




Mircea's voice was calm but utterly convincing. «Call them off, mage, or I will happily demonstrate an old-style feeding for you.»



I believed him, but Pritkin was more stubborn, or more stupid. The shotgun rose off the ground on its own, pointing at me. «Go ahead, but I will take your demon whore with me!»




Louis-Cesar leapt for the gun and jerked it up just as it went off. It blew a hole in the fireplace behind me. An inch to the left, and I would have been in more pieces than the golem. A hail of brick and mortar joined the dust cloud, and several flying bits nicked my skin. I cried out, and the next second it was like a hurricane had blown into the room. Through the storm of dust and debris that whirled around us, I could see that Mircea's jovial mask had peeled away and something feral looked out of his face. I'd seen other vampires without the human gloss, but they hadn't looked like this. He was terrible and beautiful at the same time, with glowing, alabaster skin, inch-long fangs and eyes of flaming, molten lava.