“You wouldn’t call me that if I’d rescued you!”
“I didn’tneedrescuing!” Baz hisses. “I was getting to him. He waslistening.”
“More likeyouwere listening,” Simon says. “While he told you a bunch of fairy tales about vampires saving princesses and slaying dragons.”
“For the last time, Simon Snow, only a depraved savage would slay a dragon!”
“I wasn’ttryingto kill it!”
We turn a corner—our room is just up ahead. “Five minutes,” Penelope says, typing something into her phone. “Get your stuff and get out.”
Baz and I stop walking.
“Guys,” she says, getting ahead of us. “Come on.”
“Penelope,” I say quietly. She finally looks up and sees the two people standing at our door: a man and a woman, both wearing very expensive suits.
54
PENELOPE
The woman, grey and graceful—I’m getting very good at spotting vampires—opens the door to our hotel room. “After you.”
“We were just getting our things,” I say.
“After. You.”
They follow us into the room. I’d set them both on fire right now if I didn’t think this entire hotel would go up in flames. “There’s no need to see us out,” I say, with as much imperiousness as I can muster. “We’re actually in a bit of a hurry.”
“Have a seat,” she says, motioning towards the bed.
Shepard and Baz sit. I can feel Simon hovering beside me. “What is this?” I demand. “We weren’t planning to make trouble, but you can tell your king that we won’t be threatened!”
“I’m not a king, you know. It’s an elected position.” Lamb is leaning in the doorway. “There’s a council, term limits. A system of checks and balances…”
“Lamb—” Baz stands up. “You changed your mind.”
The vampire looks at Baz for a second, then steps into the room, walking towards him. “I just needed a few moments tomyself to consider the possibilities. Your Bleeder has a point, I think: This is a rare opportunity.”
He says all this to Baz. Like the rest of us don’t rate eye contact. Baz, fool that he is, looks hopeful. “So you’ll help us?”
Lamb nods, stopping just in front of Baz. “And you will help us.”
I wonder how Simon is coping with this conversation. I consider casting a paralysis spell on him, just in case he isn’t copingwell—but he might drop out of the air and injure himself.
Lamb turns his head towards Shepard and me, but his eyes stay on Baz. “I’mnot a king. This city is bigger than me—I’m just its most dedicated public servant. But the Next Blood… they have a king. They can’t function without him. I don’t know where your missing friend is, but you can be sure that Braden Bodmer does. He’s the one snatching up spare Speakers and taking them apart to see how they tick.”
Simon, somewhere beside Lamb, growls.
Lamb turns to the empty space. “You’re going to help me kill him.”
Well, at least there’s a plan.
The Vampire King sits in one of the leather chairs, his two well-dressed friends flanking him now, and lays it out for us:
Apparently the Next Blood’s headquarters (does every vampire cult have headquarters? How many American towns are vampire citadels?) are in San Diego. But they have a facility near Reno.
According to Lamb’s intelligence (there are vampiredouble agents), all the NowNext leaders will be there this weekend; they’re having some kind of ceremony. “We’ll go in as quietly aswe can,” he says. “Under the radar. But if we can’t go quiet, we go loud. The Bleeder—”
