Drakul smiled warmly, took her hand, and bowed over it. “Please. You’ve personally done more damage to me than any three supernatural nations through that writer. Call me Vlad.”
“Vlad,” she said, and her voice was both tense and lower, throatier. “I would have thought you’d be more…hostile.”
“Nonsense,” Drakul said. “The challenge was an unexpected delight. It kept me busy for decades and pruned away the useless baggagefrom my creations. I am well content with the long-term results. Only fools see such challenges as insults, when they result in so much growth.” He brushed his lips over her knuckles and released her gently. Then he turned his attention to Molly. “And the new Winter Lady. Considerably more disciplined and dangerous already than her predecessor. I am told you turned the tide of the battle against the Titan’s forces. I am Lord Vlad Drakul, and I am at your service.”
Molly extended her hand, a small smile on her lips. “What a pleasure, Lord Drakul. I am Molly Carpenter.”
He took her hand and touched it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. “The pleasure is mine, I assure you. Welcome to the society of immortals. I look forward to many such meetings, in time.”
I wanted to punch the guy already.
Before he even straightened from the bow, Drakul’s black eyes flicked over to my face, and whatever he saw there seemed to amuse him.
“And you,” he said, looking me up and down. “The mortal who managed to overcome a Titan.”
“It was a team effort,” I said. “I was just batting cleanup.”
Drakul’s face went blank for a moment. Evidently, he wasn’t up on his baseball parlance.
“Right place, right time,” I clarified generously. “Harry Dresden.”
“The man I’m here to see,” Drakul said.
“Because I fought a Titan?” I asked.
Drakul laughed. It was a warm, genuine sound. “Goodness, no. That certainly makes you interesting, but I always make it a point to survey the rest of the field before the game begins.”
Now it was my turn to have a blank face. Dammit. Getting information about whatever large-scale shenanigans were supposed to happen (that I had apparently been cosmically voluntold to be a part of) was harder than stacking marbles in a corner.
Drakul looked faintly disappointed and offered me a consoling smile. “Ah. It has come to my attention that there are members of the White Council seeking my location.”
“You killed some of their people,” I said. “Took their bodies and talents and turned them into your personal lackeys. My friends.”
“Such things happen in war,” Drakul said calmly. “Children take it personally.” He dipped two fingers into a vest pocket and produced a black card marked with gold-leaf lettering. “Still, such things can be settled in only one way.” He offered me the card, his black eyes bottomless and empty. “My location. Please inform whichever passionate fools the White Council boasts this month that they may call upon me at their convenience. I shall be ready. Alternatively, I can make time for a meeting of their choosing. Anytime. Anyplace.”
Wow.
No one did that.
No one just dropped an open challenge to wizards of the White Council.
I took the card warily. I checked. There was no evident enchantment about it.
“Why?” I asked him.
He considered me for a breath. “Is it not obvious, wizard?” he asked. “To duel me openly under the Accords would be suicide. You people will clearly take alternative action, as is your pattern—one I respect, if it matters to you. But I would find the entanglements of any resulting war inconvenient, as would the leadership of the other supernatural nations.” He nodded toward Molly and Lara. “Children seldom see the advantage in tidying up their messes. I do. So in the interests of order, I extend the invitation, here and now, and hereby waive the protection of the Accords before two witnesses.” He leaned a little closer, smiling. “Unless you would rather display a minute scrap of sanity and allow the matter to drop as part of the fortunes of war.”
“Show up or shut up, huh?” I asked him.
He considered the phrasing. “Just so.”
“I’m not a member of the Council anymore,” I said. “But I’ll pass the word along.”
“Most courteous,” Drakul said, bowing slightly. “I do hope you yourself will take a more mature view of what happened, wizard. It would be a shame to be forced to remove you from the board before you are even truly prepared for the great game.”
“Oh, I’m well-known for that,” I said. “My maturity.”
He smiled again, though there was regret in it, and only a hint of fang. “Ah. To each his nature.”
