Page 71 of Time's Fool

The vampire glanced between us, looking conflicted, but I had no such issue. I moved to evade the arm, intending to jump and damn the consequences. But as fast as I was, he was faster.

He pushed me back against the fey, two of whom grabbed me. And then leapt off the roof, probably to battle or charm my would-be rescuer, and that improved the odds tremendously. I couldn’t take him, not like this, and wasn’t sure that I could take them.

But I could damned well try!

One of them cursed when I broke his hold, which had been more suitable for a human woman than for me, grabbed his knife, ducked under the fist that another threw, spun and got the blade against the first one’s throat. He cursed and thrashed, and I laughed and hung on, and the laughter seemed to give them pause more than the blade, for there was an air of madness in it.

They spoke briefly among themselves in a language I didn’t know, but which sounded faintly like chiming bells. And then harshly clanging bells when I pressed inward slightly, just enough to slick the surface of the knife with red. So, they did have blood, same as us; good to know.

And I bet they died if you let too much of it out.

But they weren’t giving up, and were trying to flank me. I had put my back against the chimney again, but it wasn’t that wide. I had to come up with something else.

“There are too many of us,” one of them told me, with a wicked look in his eye.

“There’s about to be one less,” I said, and bled the fey some more.

He cursed and said something to the other one, and they argued back and forth for a moment, instead of all rushing me at once. I guessed he didn’t like his chances. I didn’t like mine, either, but mainly because of that bow. Otherwise, I could shove him at them, jump to the top of the pergola and thence to the ground, and run for the fence bounding the property.

I was fast; faster than them.

I thought I could make it.

But then the vampire was back, his blue eyes flashing. “Throw down your weapons!” he snarled, but not at me. “Now, or you’ll be fighting me as well—and I won’t be throwing my punches this time!”

“As if you ever do,” one of the fey grumbled.

But to my shock, they did as they were bid, with several swords, a bunch of knives, and the bow hitting the roof, although not the quiver. The vampire raised an eyebrow at it, and the fey wearing it cursed. “What am I going to do? Throw the arrows at her?”

“She’s more likely to attack us,” another snapped.

“Knew she had been too calm for too long; this was bound to happen,” a third agreed. “And what about Ødger?” the fourth asked. “Are you just going to let her kill him?”

Ødger was apparently the furious fey with my knife at his throat.

“He may keep his life,” I told them, taking the only chance I was likely to get to edge toward the roof. I kicked off the bow in the process, causing its owner to scowl, and then paused on the edge, facing them with my captive. “As long as I may do the same. I have no quarrel with you. Do not follow and giveth me one.”

“Why is she talking like that?” one of the fey asked.

“What difference does it make? Agree with her!” the one in my arms yelled, and I took that second to shove him at them.

But I had forgotten about the redheaded woman, who must have climbed up after me. And as soon as I turned to leap for freedom, she caught me. But not with a human hand.

“Are you all monsters?” I yelled, as a clawed fist closed about my throat, silver gray and scaley, and so big that she only needed two fingers to hold me.

“Pretty much,” she said dryly, and looked past me. “Is she okay?”

“No,” the vampire said. “We need to call the Pythian Court. And tell them . . . we have a visitor from another time.”

Chapter Twenty-One

The Pythian Court, as it turned out, meant Rhea, the Pythia’s heir. And a very unhappy one after she showed up at the house and discovered what had happened. She and I flashed back to London a short time later, only to find ourselves in the midst of a fight.

Or, at least, in the vicinity of one.

She had chosen to appear a few streets over from the little alehouse in case the Corps had gotten there first. Which turned out to be prudent judging by the raucous sounds and brilliant colors lighting up the night in that direction. But the fact that we had been cautious did not save us from almost being decapitated by a spell as soon as we arrived.

“Don’t kill him!” Rhea gasped, which was the moment I realized that the vampire called Louis-Cesare had come along, too, and had just jumped the mage who had attacked us.

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