Changes - By Jim Butcher Page 0,84

Do you like our pretty eyes, ragged wizard? Which color do you like more? Look closely and carefully.”

You don’t look vampires in the eyes. Everyone knows that one. Even so, I’d had a couple of encounters with the stare of one of the Red Court and never had a problem shutting them out. It wasn’t even particularly difficult.

But evidently, those vampires had been noobs.

Ice blue and deep sea green swirled in my vision, and it was only at the very last instant that I realized what was happening, slamming closed the vaults of my mind, leaving only the hard, fortified places to attack, a castle of idea and memory, ready to withstand an assault.

“Stop that, please,” I said quietly a moment later. “The conversation isn’t getting anywhere like this.”

The little vampire pursed her lips, her head tilted as if she were deciding whether to be upset or amused. She went with amused. She giggled and wriggled her hips around a little. “Lovely, lovely, lovely. We are well pleased.”

“You do have options,” Esteban said. If he was put out by Esmerelda’s behavior, it didn’t show. Hell, he hadn’t even seemed to notice.

“By all means,” I said. “Enumerate them.”

“I suppose the simplest means to solve our problem would be for you to take your own life,” he said. “If you are dead, Arianna has no reason to harm your spawn.”

“Aside from the being-dead part, there are some minor problems with that idea.”

“By all means,” Esteban said, “enumerate them.”

“What confirmation would I have that the child was safe and returned to her mother? What security would I have to make me believe that Arianna might not do the same thing a month from now?”

“A contract could be drafted,” Esteban said. “Witnessed and signed, arbitrated by one of the neutral parties of the Accords. For security, we suppose we could ask our Lord if He would give his Word upon it that your mate and spawn were free of the cycle of vengeance.”

“A possibility worth consideration,” I said. “Though the part where I die seems to be something of a flaw.”

“Understandably,” Esteban said. “We might also offer you an alternative to death.”

The roll of Esmerelda’s hips became slower, more sensuous. I’ve been abused by Red Court vampires in the past. I still have nightmares sometimes. But the pretty-seeming girl atop me had that feminine mystique that defies description and definition. Being so close to her was making me nauseous, but my body was reacting to her with uncomfortable intensity.

“Alternative,” she said in a breathy little voice. “In this day, that means fashionable. And we do so love showing little mortals how to be fashionable.”

“You would make me like you,” I said quietly.

Esmerelda nodded, slowly, her mouth drawing up into a lazy, sensual smile, her hips still circling maddeningly against mine. Her fangs were showing.

“It would offer you several advantages,” Esteban said. “Even should Arianna complete the vengeance rite, the transformation of your blood would insulate you against it. And, of course, you would not be killed, captured, or tortured to death, as the White Council will be over the next six months or so.”

“It certainly bears consideration as well,” I said. “Very practical. Are there any other paths you think feasible?”

“One more,” Esteban said. “Gift your spawn to our Lord, the Red King.”

If I’d had the strength to take a swing at him, I would have. So it was probably a good thing that I didn’t. “And what would that accomplish?”

“He would then take possession of the spawn. She would, in fact, be under his protection, until such time as He deemed her unfit, unworthy, or unneeding of such care.”

Esmerelda nodded rapidly. “She would be his. He does so dote on his little pets. We think it quite endearing.” She opened her mouth in a little O, like a schoolgirl caught in the midst of a whispered conference about forbidden subjects. “Oh, my, would Arianna be upset. She would howl for centuries.”

“We could provide chattel in exchange to sweeten the deal, Dresden,” Esteban said. “We would be willing to go as high as seven young women. You could select them from our stock or from their natural habitat, and we would see to their preparation and disposition.”

I thought about it for a long moment and rubbed lightly at my chin. Then I said, “These are all very rational suggestions. But I feel that I do not understand something. Why does the Red King not simply order Arianna to desist?”

Both of the Eebs drew in

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