Page 5 of Time's Fool

“That’s . . . not possible,” I said, looking at more revenants than I’d ever seen at one time.

“There were over a dozen,” the vamp said, as if that was in any way normal. “We managed to take two alive.”

He pushed open the door to a small dwelling and motioned me inside.

It had two rooms with a packed earth floor, an open ceiling all the way to the roof, and a hearth in the center. It was a medieval sort of house, left over from another time, in which chimneys and multiple stories had yet to be thought of. The sort of place where you bedded down with your animals on cold nights and didn’t mind the fleas.

Or other fanged things, I thought, as the vampire threw back a tattered blanket covering a couple of huddled figures near a wall, and revealed two more corpses.

Only these were somewhat livelier.

“We kept them in case they might tell you something,” he added, while the nearest creature snarled and snapped, trying to get his one remaining fang into me.

Since he was being guarded by two huge vampires, both of whom looked utterly revolted at the job they’d been assigned, I didn’t give much for his chances. I also didn’t know whether the vamps’ disgust was for the revenants or for me. It would be a toss-up as to which the vampire community hated more, but their master was here, so they were behaving themselves.

More or less.

“Get on with it, scum,” one of them said, reaching for me to prove how fearless he was.

That tended to happen whenever a vamp figured out what I was, which was seldom. Being petite, slender, and dimpled had helped me more through the years than my fighting skills, although I didn’t need the latter today. Because the master who’d hired me carelessly backhanded the vamp through the wall before he touched me, into what I assumed was a pigsty based on the smell.

And on the loud squealing and thrashing that immediately took place upon his arrival.

“She is to be respected,” the master said mildly, watching the man fight off several large, enraged sows. They had piglets; unfortunately for him. “She is here on Senate business.”

“I never agreed to work for the Senate,” I protested. The august body that ruled the vampire world were also the ones who wanted my kind to be killed on sight.

“You don’t. You work for me.”

“But you just said—”

“The Senate has delegated me to deal with this. But I choose my own operatives.”

“And you chose a dhampir.”

He shrugged. “Who better? And you have something of a reputation.”

That could be taken several ways, I thought, as the now muddy and mauled vamp came back through the wall like a streak of lightning. And, of course, he wasn’t going after the master. A second later he was on the floor, an expression of mingled surprise and outrage on his features, after the wooden end of my knife cleaved his heart in two.

One of the revenants laughed, a mindless cackle that got louder and higher pitched as the injured vamp gasped and writhed. He wasn’t dead; well, any more than he had been when I came in. I hadn’t taken his head, so he’d likely be fine, although he’d be gentled for a while.

The other big vamp looked from his friend to the master and then to me, appearing nonplussed. “But Master Mircea,” he finally said, before stopping, as if he didn’t know what was appropriate.

“Some have to learn the hard way,” his master said mildly. “Take him out.”

“But that would leave you alone—”

“I think I can handle a couple of trussed up revenants.”

. “But the girl . . .” the guard looked at me unhappily. “She is dhampir . . .”

“Yes, and if she kills me, I shall be quite annoyed. I also won’t be paying her.”

“In that case, you’re perfectly safe,” I said, and saw him give that same, almost smile I’d seen in the tavern.

And then I saw more, when the hood he’d been wearing was finally thrown back, revealing a devastatingly handsome face with more color than a vamp should have, honey-colored skin, dark brown eyes and shoulder-length mahogany hair. His lashes were long, his cheekbones were high, and his lips were red enough that they might have been rouged. Yet his profile denied any comparisons to the feminine.

He reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t think who.

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