Page 261 of Dragon Slayer

Fulk left the meeting with Talbot feeling like a shaken can of soda. Faintly, far above the manor, through layers of stone and steel, he heard the chop of helo blades – Talbot’s daughter arriving, then. He and Anna had discussed it, and they’d agreed that Anna be on hand to welcome her. To sniff out her intentions…and offer her a friendly face if necessary. If Valerian could be believed –

So lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t see Dracula until he’d nearly run smack into him. He pulled up short at the last minute.

Vlad, of course, didn’t move. Merely drew to a halt, one unimpressed eyebrow raised. “You’ve come from Talbot,” he said.

Fulk took a deep, somewhat steadying breath, and noted that Vlad smelled of his brother, and of soap, and that he was on his way up from the dungeon. “And you’ve come from your brother. I heard you took him upstairs.”

Vlad grunted and headed for the elevator.

Fulk fell into step alongside him.

When they were safely in the car, and the doors had closed – two nervous interns waved them off and insisted they could catch the next ride; Fulk didn’t blame them – Vlad said, “I need to ask you about the Necromancer.”

Fulk growled.

Vlad chuckled.

Fulk was a half-head taller than the vampire, so he had to look down and not just over as he checked with sudden fascination to see what his face was doing. Vlad’s smile wasn’t exactly friendly or comforting, but it was a smile nonetheless.

“You still hate him after all this time?”

Fulk said, “If I put Mehmet the Conqueror in front of you right now, would you still hate him?”

It was Vlad’s turn to growl.

“So now we understand one another,” Fulk said. “Liam Price is, to put it bluntly, a motherfucker. He’s never helped anyone willingly in his life – everything he’s ever done has been self-serving. He will exploit a person’s every weakness to get exactly what he wants.” He swallowed hard, trying to choke down the grief and rage that rose in his throat. “His wife is Annabel’s sister.”

“Hmm.” Fulk detected one quick vibration of interest from him. “Can he really raise the dead?”

“I’ve seen him do it. And I wish I hadn’t.” He turned his head so he could gauge the vampire’s next reaction. “Talbot and his crew expect Liam to become your mage. To go into battle with you.”

Vlad’s lip curled. “I don’t want or need a mage. I’ve never liked them.”

Fulk felt an answering smirk tug at his mouth. “On that we are agreed. But you might not have a choice in the matter.”

“Let me ask you something, le Strange.” He turned his head, so they faced one another, his eyes very dark and flat under the overhead elevator lights. “This place, and these people, need me. Do you think for one second thatIneedthem?”

He…hadn’t thought of it that way before. “Huh.”

“I would ask you to trust me,” Vlad continued, “but I know that you won’t. One thing, though.”

The elevator slowed.

“Your wife seems to bear some affection for my brother. Do you share that affection?”

“…I’m not sure.”

“Think on it.” Then the doors opened and he stepped out into the library.

~*~

From a rooftop landing pad, Mia traveled with her escort in an elevator that dropped them three floors down and opened onto a long hallway lit with wall sconces, tiled with black and white checks. Tall, mullioned windows let in the night, bracketed by clusters of toile-printed armchairs. Light glowed at either end of the hall; in one direction lay the warm, exotic environs of the conservatory. In the other, the rest of the manor house.

Even this, just a place to pass through, to maybe stop and read a book beside a rain-streaked window, was awash in simple splendor.

“You get used to it,” Treadwell said at her side, but she didn’t believe that at all. He was an artless man, after all.

“This way.” He took her elbow in a gentle grip and attempted to steer her toward the main house.