Vlad led the way back down the hall.
“Are there any ghosts here?” Clive asked.
Both Vlad and I shook our heads. “I had that creep attendant who raped Léna corner me in the kitchen,” I said, “but I haven’t seen any other male ghosts around. I wonder why that is.”
“I’ve noticed that too,” Vlad said.
“Given how you said the prince feels about possible suitors around his daughters,” Clive said, “he may have run them off, ignoring the women lingering on the other side of the asylum.”
When we walked around the blood pool, Clive’s arm tightened around me.
“Should we be concerned that Cadmael didn’t find us?” I asked. “Is he okay?”
“That would depend,” Vlad said, holding open the door at the bottom of the stairs, “on your definition of okay.” He turned his head and stared into the reception area. “For instance, would we consider him standing in the gathering room doorway, staring at that infernal portrait, okay?”
Shit. That was all we needed.
The three of us stood together, watching Cadmael stand unmoving.
“Maybe we just sneak by him,” I whispered.
Cadmael turned his head and stared straight at me. “You, again,” he sneered, turning toward us, my axe in his bloody hand.
Clive and Vlad moved together, standing shoulder to shoulder to block me.
Cover me for a few, okay? I asked Clive. Let me see if I can push the prince out.
Hurry, darling. We’re no match for him.
Thirty
Getting to the Bottom of Why Cadmael Hates My Guts
I tapped the wall where Vlad had earlier. When the door slid open, I darted in and closed it behind me. Vowing to take the longest shower known to man later, I sat on a filthy step, closed my eyes, and found the green blips in my head.
Three strong blips. Without all the other vamps around this joint, though, I could now see two more. Shit. They were a pale, sickly, yellowish grass green. Fae. We had company.
I focused on Cadmael’s blip and pushed my way in. Normally, I’d never have been able to do that, but with the prince screwing with Cadmael’s head, it was easy.
Synapses fired around me, but it was the voice in his head that worried me. Cadmael was staring uncomprehendingly at Clive and Vlad. Kill them! the voice kept saying. I felt Cadmael struggling.
I needed to distract the prince, but how? I had no influence over the fae. Then again, he was currently possessing a sort-of dead vampire and I had power over the dead. If he pulled out of Cadmael, yes, we’d be physically safer for the moment, but only until he decided it was more expedient to take control of a scary-powerful ancient vampire again.
I had no idea what I was doing, but I hadn’t let that stop me in the past. I brought up an image of Gloriana in all her regal authority and pushed it into Cadmael’s mind. The urging to kill Clive and Vlad faltered.
My voice was nothing like Gloriana’s, but while pushing her image, I demanded he tell me what he had done with Cordelia.
Like a boxer being pummeled, I was hit with a barrage of memories of girls and young women being snatched, of fury and shouts, of backhands and closed fists. Finally, I saw Cordelia being held aloft by him, his hand around her neck. Tears streaming down her face, her golden skin turning blue, she clawed at his hand before he dropped her through the trap door.
It was too much. These last few days of seemingly unending violence toward women had me screaming in rage. I hadn’t been able to do anything to help the women when it was happening, but I could do something about this now.
Dave had once put me in a mental cage to keep me safe from a demon. I didn’t know how he’d done it, but sheer will and innate magical ability had me erecting walls around the prince while he lurked in Cadmael’s mind. He’d put himself in my domain and I wasn’t letting him out.
Locked in tight, the prince’s influence over Cadmael disappeared.
Get out! Cadmael roared.
Fuck off, you asshat. An ageless fae prince has been possessing you and I’m the one you yell at? How about, Hey, Sam, thanks so much for keeping me from being a fae puppet and killing my friends? I’ll never understand how I’m somehow always the problem.
