The Last of the Red Hot Vampires - By Katie MacAlister Page 0,97

asked, amazed that something so basic had escaped everyone. "Does no one even wonder if the whole idea of a sovereign is...untrue?"

"No," the dapifer said, his face once again bland and emotionless. "It is a matter of faith."

"Faith? Because you believe the sovereign exists, it follows that such a being must be?" I shook my head again.

Theo turned so Carol's foot whapped me on the arm. Sweetling, cease. We have more important things to take care of, and you arguing the logic of faith will not help our case.

He was right. I had met fanatics before - I'd lived with them for eighteen years - and I knew well that such people were not often open to logic and reason. This would be a battle for another time.

Sarah was watching me closely, concern in her eyes. I gave her a weakly reassuring smile and waved a hand at the dapifer. "Sorry to hold you up. We're ready if the mare are."

The dapifer opened both doors with a grand gesture, sweeping in to make a bow to the dais at the far end of the room.

"Hol-ee cow," Sarah said, her eyes huge as she spun around looking at the ballroom.

I had to admit, it was a pretty impressive sight. The walls were paneled in a warm, amber oak, with two rows of long windows running the entire length of the room. Sunlight poured into the room, leaving bright pools dappling the glossy, polished parquet floor. More pictures were on the walls between the windows, portraits this time, beneath each of which sat a silver and blue upholstered chair.

"They're going to need a whole lot more chairs than that," I said softly as we proceeded into the room, Theo carefully making his way around the pools of sunlight.

"Will you look at those chandeliers?" Sarah's mouth hung open just a smidgen as she ogled the ornate silver pieces of art that hung from the ceiling. "Are those swans in them?"

"Looks like a whole mythology theme going on in this room," I answered, unable to keep from looking at the mural on the ceiling. Although at first I thought it was the sort of allegorical painting one normally found on a castle ballroom ceiling, closer inspection showed elements of mythology rather than religion. Satyrs and fauns romped with sylphlike women clad in gauzy gowns in a sylvan setting, while on the far side of the room, nearest the dais which we were approaching, the scene changed to one of black and red, with figures of leering men, and small brown humanlike beings that I took to be some sort of demon.

Clustered to one side, between the woodland paradise and the fiery depths of Abaddon, but part of neither, stood a small cluster of men and women with downcast eyes, their expressions and body language depicting shame and remorse.

"Those are the nephilim," Theo said, nodding at them.

"Right. It's brass-tacks time," I said, squaring my shoulders as we stopped in front of the raised dais. Three chairs sat on it, two of which were occupied by the elderly mare named Irina and the acerbic Disin.

Theo set the struggling Carol down. I moved around to her far side, keeping a possessive hand on her arm. Theo bowed to the mare. I thought fleetingly of curtseying, but the fact that I had no idea how to perform such a move, coupled with an independent spirit that rejected such notions as someone being "better" than me, left me with the decision that a head bob would be sufficient to show respect.

"Good afternoon," I said, nodding to both the mares. "I am sorry to disrupt you without warning, but - "

"Portia Harding," Disin interrupted, her voice booming like thunder as it rolled down the room. People were still filing into the ballroom, but at her bellow they froze, a good half of the large ballroom filled with a solid mass of apparently lifeless bodies. "You have defied the judgment of the Court of Divine Blood by returning here without first being summoned to do so."

Theo moved closer to me. Overhead, a small dark cloud formed. I willed it away, taking Theo's hand instead.

"I am not aware that the hearing you held constituted a legal trial, complete with judgment," I said, keeping my voice as non-confrontational, while still firm, as possible. "As I recall, you ordered us to find the murderer of Hope the virtue by the new moon." I waved my hand to the bound woman next to me. "We