The Last of the Red-Hot Vampires do-5

by Кейти Макалистер

  Sarah gave an exaggerated sigh. "Can we get back to the matter at hand?"

  It was difficult to dismiss the images Theo sent to me, but I managed, by dint of concentrating on my eggs, to keep from flinging myself on him. "Sure. I take it other than the objection about us sneaking into the Court, you have no other comments?"

  "Oh, I have many comments, but I respect you both too much to make them," she said, waving her fork at the paper. "Where are the Akashic Records?"

  "In the library, the same building where the mare have their offices," I answered, pouring more coffee and holding it out to Theo. A blissful look stole over his face as, his eyes closed, he breathed deeply of its scent.

  "In their offices? Well, now I know you're crazy! Just exactly how do you expect to get to the Records without being seen? Won't anyone who sees you know who you are? Won't the mare do something terrible if they find you there?"

  "Theo thought of that," I said with a proud smile at him, sipping my coffee.

  "Disguise?" she asked.

  "No, the only disguises we could don that would effectively mislead a mare would need to be created by a demon, and we will not go down that path," Theo answered, taking the lid off the jam pot to smell it.

  "Then what—"

  "Shall I show you?" I asked, waggling my eyebrows.

  Sarah looked confused. "Show me what?"

  "We tried this last night, in my room. It's pretty slick, really." I closed the door to the pub area, striking a dramatic pose in the middle of the room.

  "You're not going to make it rain again, are you?" Sarah asked, looking worriedly at her raw silk blouse.

  "Nope. This is even better than my own personal rain cloud." I closed my eyes, imagining the humidity creeping up until it was a hundred percent, followed by the temperature dropping below the dew point. Moisture from the surface of the earth was drawn forth and began to evaporate, condensing, moving upward to cool.

  "Oh my god," Sarah said, her voice rife with awe.

  I opened my eyes and smiled. "I'm a fog machine!"

  "This is incredible," she said, batting at the billows of fog that filled the small room. "I can't believe you can control this!"

  "It's an art," I said modestly, admiring the dense fog that began to obscure the objects in the room.

  "And you're going to fill the Court with fog in order to sneak in? Oh, this I have to see!"

  I opened a window and began to dissipate the fog.

  "Erm…Sarah…I don't think the Court would be the best place for you," Theo said, looking uncomfortable.

  "Why?" she demanded.

  "Well, for one, mortals aren't allowed in it except by special dispensation."

  She frowned. "Portia's mortal."

  Theo glanced at me. "Yes, but she's a virtue. That means she's on the road to immortality, and can conceivably have legitimate business in the Court."

  "That's splitting hairs, and you know it," she said, waving away his objections. "I think I should go with you. No one will see me if it's all foggy, so no one will know I was there."

  "She has a point," I said, watching Theo. "We're not supposed to be there either, so what's the difference in her sneaking in along with us? Is there any reason she shouldn't come?"

  "Well…"

  "Excellent! I'll go get my things," she said, cramming in the last of her toast before dashing from the room, scattering promises to be back before we knew it.

  "If she gets caught—" Theo started to say.

  I interrupted him. "If we get caught, we're going to be in a whole lot more trouble than she will ever be in. So let's go with the thought that we're not going to get caught, and instead focus on the end goal."

  Theo smiled, took my hand, and began nibbling on my fingertips. Little zings of electricity skittered through me at his touch. "You are so delightfully single-minded. Very well, we will hope for the best."

  There was a faint echo of unease in the back of his mind, but it was too vague for me to pinpoint. Regardless, I was a bit worried as we drove down the coast to the castle in which the entrance to the Court of Divine Blood was located. What if I couldn't perform when the time came? What would happen if Theo and I were caught? Would Sarah be in any trouble if she was seen? What if the Akashic Record didn't help us?

  "Too many ifs," I said to myself.

  "What is too manieeee!"

  Sarah's screech filled the car, causing me to lurch forward, my hands over my ears, and startling Theo to such extent that the car jerked off the road, bounded over a small hill that ran between the road and the marshy coast, and hurtled down a slippery slope toward a large log which had been washed ashore.

  Theo swore, yanking at the steering wheel, pumping the brakes to get the car to stop without flipping.

  "Bloody badgers, what's going on here?" a gruff woman's voice asked from the backseat.

  "Merciful heaven! Stop!" another woman cried, grabbing Theo by the shoulders and shaking him.

  The car fishtailed, hit the rocky shale that merged into the soft, mucky, marshy shore, and finally crashed to a halt in a huge mountain of discarded oyster shells. Seabirds, which had been picking through the shells, rose in a cloud of squawking protests. The screaming from the backseat stopped. I turned, shaking and no doubt white from shock, to look at Theo, asking him at the same time he asked me, "Are you all right?"

  "I'm OK," I answered him, craning around to look behind us. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, but two horribly familiar—if disordered—faces stared back at me. "What are you two doing here? And where is Sarah?"

  "On the floor. Stop stepping on me." Sarah's head emerged from behind the seat, her hair mussed, her face flushed with emotion. "Ow. I hit my head. What happened?"

  "That's what I'd like to know," Theo said, unsnapping his seat belt so he could turn around and glare at the people in the backseat. "Who are you two, and why have you materialized in my car?"

  "They are the two women who administered my first trial," I answered, adding my own glare to Theo's. I pointed at the smaller woman. "That's Tansy. She's the one who beat me up."

  "I didn't mean to," Tansy answered, wringing her hands. Both women were dressed just as they were a few days ago, Tansy still appearing like someone's beloved grandmother. "But you simply wouldn't defend yourself."

  I ignored that. "The other woman is named Letty, I believe."

  "Leticia de Maurier," the Dame Margaret woman answered, her voice stiff. She looked down her long nose at us. "We are trial proctors, nephilim. You will not question the ways of those of the Court of Divine Blood."

  "We'll question whoever and whatever we want," I said grimly, watching Theo as he forced the car door open and got out. He half slid down the slope of oyster shells, fighting his way around to my side of the car. "You could have killed us!"

  "Don't be silly—we're all immortal here. Well, almost all immortal," Dame Margaret said with a sour look at Sarah. "We are here to administer your next trial, naturally. Shall we commence?"

  "Here?" I asked, allowing Theo to help me out of the car. We'd stopped at the bottom of a huge mountain of oyster shells, the back wheels of the car sunk deep into the mucky, muddy marshland. Overhead, the gulls and shorebirds we'd dislodged cried out their objections. The stench of rotting seaweed and brackish water in small, stagnant tidal pools was enough to trigger my gag reflex.

  "No time like the present," Tansy said cheerfully as Theo held her arm while she slid her way down the oyster shells to a small spar of solid ground. "Thank you, dear boy. So handsome!"

  "And very much taken," I said, grumbling as I picked my way down the shells. As I reached the bottom of the slope, I lost my footing, my arms cartwheeling like crazy as I fell the last couple of feet, rolling into the same muck that held the car's back tires prisoners. The mud was black, and smelled of decomposing matter, fish, and other unsavory odors I refused to identify.

  "Oh, Portia!" Sarah cried from the safety of the oyster mound.

  Theo lifted her and plo
pped her down onto the same solid piece of land that both Tansy and Dame Margaret occupied before starting toward me.

  "No, stay back," I said, trying to rise. "You'll just sink in up to your knees. I'm not hurt, just filthy."

  The mud was thick and dank, and made horrible sucking noises as I struggled to my feet. I lost my summer sandals somewhere in the muck as I sunk up to my knees, my linen pants soaked through with the horrible mess. The entire front side of me was black with sodden detritus, reeking with such a horrible odor that my eyes ran.

  "Well, so long as you're all right, we shall commence with the trial," Dame Margaret said, marching over to a sun-bleached piece of tree-trunk driftwood and taking a seat on it. She pulled out a notebook. "As you are no doubt well aware, this is the trial for grace."

  I took one step forward, lost my footing again, and fell facedown into the muck a second time.

  Dame Margaret pursed her lips.

  "Letty, perhaps we should wait," her companion said, watching as Theo pulled me to solid land.

  I tried not to touch him with the stinking, filthy mess that covered me, spitting out bits of foul-tasting dirt and mud.

  "No time to wait," Dame Margaret answered. "We've a schedule to keep to. Now, let's see…during this trial, you will demonstrate to us your grace, that innate sense which separates you from the mortals, and by which you will be known as a member of the Court of Divine Blood."

  One seagull, braver than the others, evidently enjoyed the aroma I'd stirred up and tried to land on my head. I beat it off with a profanity that made Theo grin, Sarah cover her face with her hands, and Tansy gasp in horror.

  "Indeed," Dame Margaret said, raising both eyebrows and making a note in her ever-present notebook.

  I scorned Theo's offer of a hand, stomping my way over to where Dame Margaret sat. She rose as I approached, bits of mud falling off me to hit the ground with unpleasant splatting noises.

  "Really, I must protest," Dame Margaret said, pulling out a handkerchief to hold at her nose. "Your stench is quite offensive."

  Mud covered me from the top of my head to my bare feet, squishing out from between my toes, ground into my hair so deeply I'd probably have to wash it at least five times to get it all out. My clothes were ruined, soaked through to my skin. I stunk of dead fish and sewer through no fault of my own, the blame for my condition standing squarely in front of me, gently fanning the air with a pristine white handkerchief.

  "Step away, Portia Harding. Your audacity in standing near me knows no bounds. We are offended."

  Tansy gasped again.

  My eyes narrowed at her. It would be so easy.

  Sweetling, do not do what I know you are thinking of doing, Theo warned. No matter how much she goads you, she is still a member of the Court, and your trial proctor.

  She caused the whole thing! She popped into the car without warning, and her buddy grabbed you and kept you from steering properly! It's all her fault that I'm a walking, fishy cesspool!

  No good will come of you seeking revenge.

  Oh, I beg to differ. A whole lot of good will come from it—it will do my spleen tremendous good to see her as filthy as I am.

  "You are delaying us unnecessarily," Dame Margaret said, holding the handkerchief to her nose again. "I will make note of your attempts to deprecate this trial."

  "Deprecate!" I stared Dame Margaret in the eye, my hands itching to grab her and toss her into the mud. It would only be fair, after all.

  Sweetling…

  I took a deep breath, choked on my own stench, and turned around, stumbling away with my head held high. Don't worry, I won't do it, no matter how much I'd give to see her as filthy as me.

  "If you leave now, it will be so noted on the trial records," Dame Margaret yelled after me. "Do not expect another chance, for there will be none!"

  I muttered profanity after profanity to myself as I fought my way up the grassy slope to the road.

  "Does she know that if she fails this trial, it will all be over?" Tansy asked her companion.

  "She knows," Dame Margaret trumpeted. "She is simply too cowardly to face us! Her attitude is reprehensible! She is not worthy of the virtue name!"

  Damn the trial. Damn everything and everyone…except Theo.

  One of the gulls crapped on me as it flew over my head.

  Chapter 19

  "I'm in so much trouble."

  The hum of the air-conditioning in the car was the only noise.

  "I wonder how much groveling it's going to take to get the mare to give me another shot at that trial?"

  Outside the window, gulls cried overhead. I flinched as we passed the area where earlier we'd skidded off the road, averting my eyes from the sight of Theo's car, still half-buried in the mountain of oyster shells.

  "I hope your car will be all right. When are they coming to tow it?"

  "Soon."

  I sighed, slinking down into my seat. Are you still mad at me?

  I have not been mad at you, so there is no "still" to it.

  Then why aren't you talking to me? You haven't said a word since we went back to the pub so I could take a shower and change. I know you have to be angry, or at least disappointed, that I've messed up the trial so much that I won't be a virtue, and won't be able to pardon you, but I really don't believe the situation is as hopeless as you no doubt think it is.

  I don't think anything is hopeless, sweetling, nor am I in the least bit angry. I think you showed remarkable restraint in not acting rashly with Leticia. I know how much you wanted to treat her in kind.

  "Can I ask a question?" Sarah leaned forward so she could be heard in the front seat of the car she'd rented for our trip, now serving as our primary mode of transportation while Theo's car was out of commission.

  "Since I'm delighted to know you're still talking to me, by all means, ask away."

  "I wasn't not talking to you, silly. I was taking notes on what happened. This is so incredibly fascinating!"

  "I'm glad someone is getting enjoyment out of it. What was your question?"

  "Why are we going to the Court if you're now out of the running as a virtue?"

  A headache was building behind my forehead. I rubbed it, not for the first time, wishing I could rewind my life and start this section over. "Because I'm hoping that if I bring proof to the mare of what happened to Hope, they will excuse the last trial and give me another shot at it."

  "Yes, but if you're no longer a virtue, how are you going to make with the fog?"

  I glanced at Theo. His jaw was tight, his eyes a light grey that indicated he was not a happy camper. "Evidently, even though I failed the three trials, I am not de-virtued until someone strips the power from me."

  "I hope so, otherwise you'll be in even hotter water than you are. So, we're just walking in the front door?"

  "There is more than one entrance to the Court," Theo answered. "We will take the one nearest the library, so Portia's talents won't be overly taxed."

  "Good thinking." Sarah sat back to make a few more notes. I spent the rest of the way to the castle mentally sorting the events of the last few days, looking for something we might have missed. I had an uneasy feeling that something significant had happened that I'd failed to acknowledge, but a quick survey of the last three days didn't come up with anything to assuage my uneasiness.

  "Someone is bound to notice this fog isn't normal," I murmured to Theo forty minutes later, as we stopped just beyond a small doorway cut into the stone wall that surrounded the Court. Ahead of us stood the building we'd visited earlier, the library where the Akashic Record was held.

  "We will be gone before they can trace the source." Theo's voice was muffled, oddly contorted through the heavy fog that now rolled through the area surrounding the library. Even though he was just a few feet away from me, I could barely see his silhouette. "Just a little more, sweetling, then we can go in."

  "I resent being put on watchdog duty," Sarah hissed from somewhere behind us. "I won't be abl
e to see anyone until they are right on top of me."

  "No one knows who you are," I whispered back, taking Theo's arm. His fingers closed around mine, reassuringly warm and strong. "All you have to do is distract anyone who comes to the door. It's not rocket science, Sarah."

  "Hrmph."

  Theo guided us to the main doors of the library, opening them wide. I summoned more fog, and sent it into the building, thick white rolls of it slowly filling all available space. We crept along the now-fogged hallways, hands outstretched to avoid colliding with obstacles. There were a few exclamations of surprise from people who found themselves caught in the fog, one person shouting for someone to find the mare.

  We don't have much time, Theo said. I clutched the back of his shirt, my other hand holding Sarah's arm, so we wouldn't get separated.

  I know. "Sarah, this is the doorway to the archives. Stand here and keep anyone from coming in."

  "Will do."

  I released her arm and followed Theo into a small, dusty-smelling room, shutting the door behind me to keep the fog out. Theo flipped on a light switch, and stood considering the cases around us. The room was, thankfully, empty of people.

  "We can split up and search for it," I said, moving to the nearest glass archive case. "What does it look like?"

  "I have no idea, but since it is one of the most valuable records in existence, I assume it will be found in one of the more elaborate cases."

  I quickly examined the books contained in the climate-controlled case in front of me, but nothing had a title even remotely similar to Akashic Record. I skirted a giant library-sized dictionary opened on a book pedestal, and started for the next case.

  Something tickled at the back of my head. I looked back at the dictionary, giving it a closer examination.

  Ofaniel, also known as sefira Wisdom. Primary residence: Court of Divine Blood, Grand

  Apartments, second floor. Mundane residence:

  Marseille, France. Mundane name: Clementine

  Massier.

  Oglien, demon third class, servant of Bael, twenty-second legion. Mundane residence: none. Mundane names: Will O'Bannon,