Page 66 of The Star's Sword

Then he left, jogging through the door to seek out Vasara.

It was hard not to feel abandoned by his leaving, but I still had Mark, Zadis and Samael at my side.

“Give me that flask,” Mark said, as he looked at Samael, who was sipping from his glass and already seemed calmer, a slight glaze going over his eyes. “I’m not drunk enough to deal with this many stupid assholes.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Zadis slurred, sipping from his glass.

I took a sip from mine and felt tangy fruit as well as a bracing, sharp, chemical taste cover my tongue. Followed by immediate relaxation. Except I felt excited rather than calm. The room swam slightly.

Mark tilted the flask back, taking a straight swig and then putting the top back on. He shook his head, smacked his lips, and then looked at the rest of the room. Then back at us.

The vampires were slowly moving back onto the floor, chatting and dancing and moving to the music.

The four of us began to move through the room, looking for any friendly face.

“Damn,” Mark said. “People are really stuck on hating you. Florence!” He called to an elderly, beautiful vampire in the back, who gave him a pained smile, but then turned away when he waved her forward. “Hell, what do we do now?”

“You didn’t hear any of this about Cleo?” Zadis whispered a little too loud. He swayed slightly, and I wondered if he already felt warm and fuzzy, like I had, from Mark’s wine.

Samael had his hand out, like he was looking for his sword. But the sheath wasn’t there, as it was usually hidden by an illusion and only brought forward as needed.

“This is diplomacy,” Zadis said, leaning forward. “No sword needed.”

“Fuck,” Sam said. “What am I here for then?” He swayed slightly, then took a steadying step. “I’m likely to only make this worse for her.”

“Because there are dozens of hateful vampires,” Zadis said, slinging his arm over Samael’s shoulder. “And we need to look pretty and make nice so they support Cleo.”

“As if we would,” a vampire said, stepping off the wall. He was young, in his mid-twenties, with a group of about a dozen of his friends. They circled us, staring down at us. One reached out and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me in against him. “I hear she’s a whore though. Should we treat her like one?”

Before I could figure out the proper etiquette, Mark had yanked me back from the vampire, shoved me to Sam and Zadis, and grabbed the other vampire by the collar.

With one smooth movement, he threw the vampire across the room, sending him smashing into the wall, leaving a dent and shattering a blue vase on a table he knocked over on his way down to the ground.

He didn’t move as his friends ran over to him.

“Shit,” Mark muttered. “I didn’t even mean to do that.”

“Cleo has that effect on people,” Sam muttered. “I think I’ve killed like, Gods, I can’t even count.” His deep voice slurred slightly, drunk.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s fine,” Zadis said. “You’re worth it. Even getting killed for.”

Sam put a hand on Zadis’s shoulder. “Sorry about that. You know I had to.”

Zadis nodded. “There was no other way.”

“I still have to thank you for moving in front of Cleo. When Cayne attacked,” Samael said.

Zadis’s green eyes swum with emotion, and he clasped a confused Sam in a hug. “No worries, friend.”

They held each other up, giving me slightly inebriated smiles, and I wondered what Mark had put in that flask.

He gave me a smile, flashing a fang. “Dragon wine. I suppose these two are lightweights.”

“Dragon wine?” I asked.

“From the stores of actual dragon lairs,” he said, pulling out the flask to take another swig. “Said to be extra calming. Definitely needed to live with vampires.”

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