Midnight's Daughter(95)
There were people, too. A lot of them had to be Drac’s, because I didn’t know them. But the handsome young human who had fed Louis-Cesare after we’d arrived was lying across the doorway to the kitchen. It looked like something had been feeding from him, because his rib cage was open and half his bones were licked clean.
I stepped over him and someone hit me in the head, hard. I grabbed the weapon and smashed the wielder against the wall, only to find myself face-to-face with an outraged human in chef whites, clutching a marble rolling pin. He did not seem to understand even after seeing me that I wasn’t an enemy. I caught a glimpse of myself in the shiny stainless-steel fridge: mud-matted hair sticking up in all directions, wild eyes and a grimy body streaked with blood and sweat. Okay, maybe he had a point, but I didn’t have time to explain.
“Where is she? Where’s Claire?” He pointed the rolling pin at a steel-covered door across the room. “You put her in the meat locker?” I slammed him against the wall again. “Tell me she’s alive!”
“Sh-she was when she went in. It was her idea,” he babbled as I dragged him across the once pristine kitchen floor. It was now covered with dirty foot, paw and claw marks. Of course Radu’s pets would find the kitchen. But they must have been there and gone, because none were in evidence.
I kept one hand on the chef, who was going to experience a world of hurt if he’d lied to me, and yanked at the door. The heavy seal parted only reluctantly, so I tugged harder and it flew open. Claire looked out at me through fogged-up glasses. She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by some of Radu’s menagerie. I started forward with a shout, then stopped. Many of the half-breeds were dead, but one or two crawled through the wreckage of the locker, some missing limbs, others dragging blood behind them.
“Claire!”
She looked up, and her glasses slipped down her nose. Her eyes were huge, and she’d obviously been crying. “These poor things were just thrown in here together and when I got here, they were eating each oth—”
“Claire! Bring down all wards within this building! Do it now!”
“What?” She looked confused. “But the chef said the vampires were trying to rebuild—”
“All of them! Now! Claire, please—”
“But these things, Dory—they’re all magic! I’m shielding as hard as I can and I’m still making them sick.” She looked around miserably, tears trembling on her lashes. “I didn’t know. I killed most of them when I—”
I caught my breath and screamed. “Claire!” I shook her by the shoulders. Jonathan or Louis-Cesare: one of them was going to die tonight. Louis-Cesare couldn’t be that one. Because I hadn’t liked Jonathan’s “one last time” comment. I had a very bad feeling that, whatever he intended for Louis-Cesare, it wasn’t something Louis-Cesare was going to walk away from. Not this time. “Listen to me! A person will die—very soon—if you don’t bring down the wards. All of them. Now.”
She looked lost, and more than a little shocked, but she nodded. Several of the creatures nearby tottered over and lay still. “Okay.”
“Get on with it!”
She straightened her glasses. The creature closest to her crumpled to the ground. It looked like the rat thing that had taken a swipe at me in the arbor. “I just did,” she said sadly. “Dory, what were these—”
I didn’t hear the rest—I was halfway back across the kitchen and flying for the entrance. I avoided the minefield of a pantry and took the hall instead. It was longer, but would probably be faster. And it would have been except for the claw that snatched me off my feet and lifted me through a hole in the wall.
There was a brief moment of being airborne, giving me time enough to wish that I’d asked Claire to kill all the damn things, and then I was dropped onto the red-tiled roof. I hit with a thud, but didn’t roll off despite a steep slant, which was good because a mage somewhere below began firing spells either at me or at Big Bird. I assumed it was me, since the creature was suddenly nowhere in sight. A spell burst against the window over the entranceway and sent a cascade of glass into whatever was happening there.
The tiles were still wet and slippery from the rain, but I managed to scramble for cover behind a chimney. I had to get into the entry. The ward the mage had put on Louis-Cesare was hopefully down, but I had no idea if that would be enough or not. He’d lost a lot of blood and God knew what had been done to him after I left. And Radu had too much to handle already to be much help.
The chimney looked like it connected to the living room fireplace, but there was no way I was doing a Santa impression. A cat couldn’t have fit down there. I was eyeing the broken window above the entry, wondering if my posterior could squeeze through; then a beaky head peered over the peak of the roof. I stared at its chartreuse, oddly human eyes, and cursed myself for a moron. I should have remembered—in the fight at the pen, the leader had waited until the others exhausted themselves before it waded in. Like it had done now.
As soon as the one lidless eye on that side of its head got a good look at me, it let out an ear-piercing shriek and took off half the chimney with a swipe from its claw. I scrambled down the tiles backward, that wicked beak slashing down all around me, cracking any tiles it hit clean in two.
The creature’s tail snapped and skidded across the tiles, sending a cascade sliding toward the roof edge with me along for the ride. Grabbing for something, anything, to break my fall, my hand encountered the rain gutter. Already overstrained from the flood, it ripped away from the roof, leaving me dangling over the courtyard right above the mage.