“Theoretically.” Ant smoothed the fur between Able’s ears. “But it would take time, and touching them in any way would definitely alert Claudius to what we’re doing. It’s probably best to gather what evidence we can first, and then, if the opportunity arises, neutralize his defenses when we’re ready to leave.”
“Assuming we can leave by that point.” Viktor was clearly still thinking they should’ve already left.
“We will get out.” Ant was certain of that. “Claudius is arrogant and paranoid, but he’s not stupid. Despite what you heard, killing a Justiciary investigator would bring down more trouble than his layers of protection could handle. I’ve no doubt he’ll posture and threaten, but ultimately, he’ll let us walk out.”
“Unless he panics and decides it’s better to apologize for our deaths after the fact.”
“Then we’ll deal with it.” Ant touched Viktor’s wrist, and Viktor quickly covered his hand with his own. “Bridget has the message. If we don’t report in within a reasonable timeframe, she’ll escalate. She’ll drag the entire Justiciary down here by their balls if they don’t take her concerns seriously. Claudius might not understand my sister’s nature, but we do, so hang onto that.”
Viktor tossed the bloody washcloth aside and cupped Ant’s face with his other hand. “Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t like seeing you bleeding.”
“Headache. Mild nausea. Nothing that won’t pass.” Ant closed his eyes and leaned into Viktor’s palm. “The magic here is…it’s so hard to describe. Try to imagine standing in the middle of a motorway intersection during rush hour. Or in the middle of a huge ball of yarn. I can’t focus on any single thread because they’re all tangled together.”
“Then don’t. Focus on Finch. Just Finch. Forget the rest.”
“That’s the plan.” Ant opened his eyes. “But I needed to understand the external defenses first, and now I do. The fountain is the anchor. Everything radiates from there. If things go badly, I know I can blow that up, and that…that would help.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Viktor pressed a kiss to Ant’s forehead. “Rest for ten minutes, and then I’ll find out if they’re going to feed us here. It’s well past lunchtime, which we didn’t have, and we could both do with something to eat. Once that’s done, then we’ll go solve the murder.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when there was a knock on the door, and Able growled.
Chapter Eight
Viktor moved to the door, positioning himself between the potential threat and Ant. He cracked it open just enough to see Nathaniel standing in the corridor, his hands clasped behind his back, as if to prove he wasn’t a threat.
“Lord Claudius expects you both to attend an early dinner in the formal hall.” Nathaniel’s tone was totally devoid of emotion. “He assumes Doctor Channon will require darkness to conduct his investigation and has arranged accommodations accordingly.”
Of course he did.Viktor kept his expression blank. “What time?”
“Sundown, which is in thirty minutes.” Nathaniel’s gaze flicked past Viktor to where Ant still sat on the bed. “Formal attire is required.”
You can stuff your formal…Viktor nodded and shut the door in Nathaniel’s face before he punched it.
“Well, that’s inconvenient,” Ant said from behind him.
Viktor turned. “We don’t have to go.”
“Actually, you just mentioned, we do need to eat.” Ant stood, brushing dog hair off his pants. “And refusing would be interpreted as either fear or disrespect. Neither of those impressions helps our position.”
You’re not wrong, but I still fucking hate it.Viktor crossed to the wardrobe, scowling at his shirts. “Claudius thinks you’re some kind of stage magician who needs candles and mood lighting to work.”
“I’ve encountered that assumption before.” Ant joined him, apparently, feeling the need to study their small shirt collection as well. “It stems from outdated folklore about psychics requiring specific atmospheric conditions. In reality, ambientlight has no bearing on my abilities whatsoever, as you already know.”
“Should we correct him?”
“Not unless we have to.” Ant pulled out a crisp white button-down. “Let him continue making his incorrect assumptions. In this situation, the more he underestimates me, the better.”
Viktor grinned.I love how my mate is always thinking five steps ahead.
Twenty-five minutes later, they descended the main staircase. Viktor had changed into dark pants and a black shirt he’d left partially unbuttoned. It was formal enough to pass Claudius’s standards, but casual enough to make it clear he didn’t give a shit about impressing anyone. Ant wore his gray shirt with charcoal pants, looking every bit the academic professional he was. Able walked at Ant’s left side, his working harness clearly visible.
The formal dining hall was exactly as pretentious as Viktor remembered. The high ceilings gave the illusion of grandeur while the massive chandelier dripped with a hundred crystals. All around the walls were more portraits of long-dead vampires glaring at the diners as if disapproving of the need to dine at all. The wooden table could’ve seated forty, but for the formal dinner, only twelve vampires were seated, all arranged with Claudius at the head like a feudal lord holding court. Every single vampire turned to stare as Viktor and Ant entered the room.
Showtime,Viktor sent through their bond.
Indeed.Ant’s mental voice was calm, analytical.Seven males, three females, and then Claudius and Nathaniel. The average age appears to be two to four hundred years based on theresidual magic I’m detecting – Claudius and you being the exception.
Viktor got a case of mental ick. He’d been around that same age when he thought Claudius’s ideas meant something. He wondered how long it would be before the blinders came off for the current diners - if they ever did.Show-offs, the lot of them,he sent back to his mate.
