The Kingmakers(71)
Adele looked down at her hand as her fingers toyed with a loose thread on the arm of the chair. “My lord, what makes you think you'd make it to a court of law? What makes you think you will make it out of this room?”
Aden blew on his coffee to cool it. “That would be murder, Your Majesty. Surely that is outside your vision for a proper empress.”
“Are you wagering your life on that?”
“I am. I've seen you work. You badly want to rule based on law. You're not your father. It was Constantine's threat to disband Commons that was the trigger for Lord Kelvin to send Flay after him. It wasn't out of love for vampires, but out of love for Equatoria.” Aden sipped coffee and looked thoughtful. “I would submit a path that perhaps you haven't considered. Why not investigate the possibility of a truce with the vampires. We both know they're not animals, and can be bargained with.” He glanced briefly at Greyfriar. “Wouldn't you prefer to be the champion of world change based on economic and political evolution rather than a wasteful and destructive war?”
“That's ridiculous,” Greyfriar retorted. “You can't make deals with vampires. You have nothing they want, except one thing. You must crush them. And if you think you've mastered Cesare, you are deluded. He'll kill you when you cease to benefit him.”
Aden shrugged. “Well, that's hardly enlightened thinking, but it makes no difference to me. Personally, I don't care what Greyfriar is. Or what you two do. My message to you is that I just want to be left to do as I please. Human or vampire. Business is business. I think we understand one another.”
Adele sneered at the man. “No, we do not. My subjects are dying in a war against vampires. You were in league with Kelvin, who ordered my father's death. And then you tried to kill me.” She stood up and opened her jacket to reveal the khukri dagger at her belt. “You are a traitor.”
She noticed Aden's eyes on the French window as he gave a quick nod. Greyfriar must have seen it too, because he suddenly leapt at the window. Glass shattered from Greyfriar slamming his hand out and pulling a writhing figure into the room. The figure in his grip hissed. A vampire.
Two more vampires roared into the room, smashing glass, bowling over Greyfriar as he struggled to hold the first. Adele automatically drew her dagger and moved to help him. She crushed a knee onto the back of one vampire, seizing his filthy hair to pull his head back. She drew the razor-sharp glowing khukri across his throat. His growl turned to a gurgle.
Suddenly Adele couldn't see. She took a deep breath and her lungs seared. The smell was familiar and terrifying. Shroud gas. It was an oily gas designed by the Americans to blunt the senses of vampires. Through misty breaks in the black, Adele saw Greyfriar holding one snapping vampire by the throat while another clawed for the swordsman's neck. Then her vision went out again. She instinctively lashed out but only caught the tip of her blade against a vampire's arm. The creature snarled and whirled on her. Claws came through the opaque fog, cutting her high on the forehead, tearing at her clothes. Then it screamed when it laid a hand on her. The vampire struck blindly and Adele saw his face near hers, wide-eyed, unseeing. Then his crystal blue eyes locked on the young woman, and sharp teeth came at her in wild desperation.
There was a quick glint of metal and a deafening explosion with a bright flash. The vampire fell into the darkness. Adele felt a strong shape at her side, grabbing her and shoving her back. There were several more blasts. She was already diving to where she knew Greyfriar lay. She felt his rough cloak with her hand and reached out to find the struggling vampire still in his grasp. Adele lashed out with the khukri, contacting deep and hearing a screech which ended in a dull grunt as Greyfriar snapped the thing's neck.
Adele felt herself grabbed awkwardly under the arms and lifted off the floor. Before she could attack, she heard Captain Shirazi in her ringing ear. “It's me, Majesty!”
She felt a rush of cool air on her face and quickly sucked it into her aching chest. Her vision cleared enough to see she was on a patio outside the shattered French windows. Black oily smoke boiled out of the salon, slowly dissipating in the stiff wind.
“We must help Greyfriar!” she cried, starting for the door, eluding Shirazi's grasping hand.
A looming cloaked shape intercepted her and propelled her farther onto the soft lawn. Greyfriar knelt at her side gasping for breath. She clutched his arms.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yes,” he croaked in reply. Then he touched her face, and his gloved fingertip came away wet. “You're injured.”
“Nothing serious.” With watering eyes, she looked up at Captain Shirazi, who knelt with his service revolver trained at the door. “Where's Lord Aden?”