Once Burned

A slender boy with russet-colored hair walked down the hall toward us. He wore jeans, sneakers, and a black jacket slung over an Ed Hardy T-shirt. He didn’t even look old enough to drink in the States, so I was surprised when Maximus and Shrapnel inclined their heads at him.

“Greetings from our sire, Tolvai,” Maximus said formally.

Tolvai responded with a burst of dialog that I didn’t understand a word of. It wasn’t Romanian—I’d gotten better at recognizing certain words in that language—but my confusion was cut short when Shrapnel held up a hand.

“Vlad requests that you speak English in front of his guest so she understands everything that is being said.”

“Is that right?” Tolvai replied, the words richly accented.

Amber eyes swept over me. Once I stared into them, I didn’t know how I’d ever mistaken Tolvai for someone younger than me. The weight of centuries reflected in those jewel-colored eyes, and the way his gaze raked me from facial scar to shoes said that a human was less than worthless to him.

“If Vlad wishes, I shall repeat myself,” Tolvai said, smiling at me the way a great white shark would at a plump seal. “What has happened that Vlad sent his most senior guards to my house without even a phone call to inform me of their coming?”

“Recently, four vampires set fire to one of Vlad’s businesses in southern Suceava,” Maximus stated. “Three of the perpetrators were killed, but one escaped. Vlad is asking all of his allies to assist him in finding this last arsonist.”

The barest smile touched Tolvai’s lips. “Of course I will offer my assistance. Any attack on a vampire’s territory must be swiftly avenged lest his enemies take it as a sign of weakness.”

I was surprised by the veiled taunt. Tolvai hadn’t been on Vlad’s suspect list, but maybe he should reconsider. Shrapnel also didn’t seem to appreciate the subtext. His glare could have burned holes into Tolvai’s deceptively young-looking features, but the vampire didn’t show the slightest amount of concern. In fact, when his gaze dipped dismissively to me again, either he was loyal—albeit sarcastic—or word of what I could do hadn’t spread to him yet.

Both were put to the test when Shrapnel said in a mild tone, “Then you won’t mind if Leila touches a few things in your home.”

Tolvai’s expression registered confusion, but not alarm. “Miért? But why?” he amended in English.

“Because Vlad asks you to,” was Maximus’s reply.

Anyone could discern the challenge wrapped in the large vampire’s silky tone. Tolvai’s lips tightened, and if it weren’t for those ancient eyes, he’d have resembled a teenager about to have a full-on temper tantrum. For several tense moments, I wondered if he’d refuse. But then he swept out his hand.

“If Vlad wishes, then she may do so. But to quote the American saying, if she breaks anything, she buys it.”

I glanced at Maximus and Shrapnel as I took off my right glove. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Anything like what?” Tolvai asked sharply. “Do you suggest that I am involved with this arsonist?”

“Of course not.” Butter wouldn’t have melted in Shrapnel’s cool reply. “But wouldn’t you want to know if one of your people went behind your back and broke truce with Vlad?”

I walked farther down the hall, letting the vampires handle this power contest themselves. After a tense silence, Tolvai bit out, “Vlad and I will have words about this.” Then he swept past me in a blur, disappearing up the staircase. If I were a vampire, I imagined the scent of his anger at having his home searched would have clogged my nostrils.

I glanced back at Maximus and Shrapnel, shrugged, and then continued on my way. They knew by now that I concentrated better if they didn’t hover over me. Tolvai’s entrance hall wasn’t nearly as impressive as Vlad’s, but I liked the pastel palette more than Vlad’s tendency toward darker, gothic colors. I detoured at the first room, an elegant lounge with a white marble fireplace and ceilings three times as high as I was tall.

Once inside, I ignored the fancy figurines or other objets d’art. Years of training myself on what not to touch made it easy to choose the most essence-heavy objects. Despite their high traffic level, light switches and lamps were out of the question, but that left doorknobs, handles of any kind, drawers, armrests, pens, glasses, and the like. After I handled various objects that showed images of feeding, sex, and some harsh discipline of Tolvai’s staff, I moved on to the next room. Then the next one. Maximus and Shrapnel stayed in the hallway, allowing me my space while the constant collision of memories versus reality made me feel like I was on a vivid acid trip.

I had just stroked a sunshine-colored couch in the fourth room when the lounge dissolved, turning into bare concrete walls with a single wooden door. Two vampires I recognized were inside. One was nailed to the wall with silver, the other typing on an iPad while seated on a bed of furs.

Szilagyi cocked his head and then rose. I’d been mentally singing as a defense against any mind readers in Tolvai’s house, and the lyrics had announced my invisible presence before I could disconnect.

“My little psychic spy, I wondered when you would return,” Szilagyi purred. Then he walked over to Marty and a knife appeared in his hand as if by magic. “You’ve missed some of the fun, but not all of it.”

You don’t need to hurt him, I thought, willing to say anything to stop what I knew was about to happen. I, ah, already want to switch sides.

Szilagyi gave me a smile so hard that it could cause ice to fracture. “If that’s true, then why are you blocking your thoughts behind that song . . . Leila?”

I ignored his use of my real name. As Vlad said, it was only a matter of time until Szilagyi picked up my paper trail.

There could be other mind readers here, I improvised. If so, they can’t pick up all my thoughts under the music, but I’m risking my life contacting you and that should show I’m serious.

Szilagyi didn’t know I’d connected to him accidentally, but his essence on the armrest had been so strong, it had acted like an instant messaging system.

“Ah.” Szilagyi appeared to mull that. Then, “Why did you abandon your loyalty to Tepesh? You seemed very staunch in it the last time we spoke.”

I cast about for any reason he might believe. Things changed since then. You told me Vlad was faking nice, and you were right.

The best lies were steeped in truth, Marty had once told me. I seized on that and continued, hiding my thoughts behind those endlessly repeating lyrics.

Vlad even seduced me to get me emotionally attached to him, but since the first day he brought me to his house, he’s had people monitoring my family. When you kidnapped Marty, he grabbed them to use as ammunition against me. Still, joke’s on him because my family and I have been estranged for years. Marty’s the only one I care about. That’s why I snuck something of yours with me and contacted you as soon as I got here.

“And where is here, Leila?” Szilagyi asked smoothly.

My lies had worked too well, and now they’d trapped me. I paused. Szilagyi ran a hand along Marty’s face in a mockery of a caress. Marty said nothing, but he gave the faintest shake of his head. Even after everything Szilagyi had done to him—and was about to do—he didn’t want to me to tell Szilagyi. He truly was the most loyal friend I had.

Despite this, I couldn’t betray Vlad, not to mention get Maximus and Shrapnel killed by answering Szilagyi because they wouldn’t let him take me without a fight. I can’t tell you, I thought while my stomach felt like it twisted into knots.

Szilagyi clucked his tongue. “How unfortunate.”

Then his knife flashed out. Marty doubled over as much as his restraints allowed. Something thick and red hit the ground.

Stop! I mentally roared.

“I will when you tell me where you are,” Szi-lagyi countered. His knife kept flashing. More gore splattered to the floor and Marty screamed in a way that would haunt my nightmares.

I can’t! I replied with another mental bellow. Maximus and Shrapnel