as essentially a house pet, and Louis-Cesare started to look like he really did have a danger fetish.
It was bullshit, but things kept conspiring to add to it, because people like a salacious story. Like the vamps last night had probably reported that Louis-Cesare and his dhampir were getting busy amidst the flames of hell, or some such. When in reality, the fire had been well away from us, and was being handled by the room’s sprinkler system. We just hadn’t wanted to pause what we were doing to clean up right then.
But to people who didn’t know the truth, it probably sounded pretty convincing. And judging by the looks Hassani had been giving Louis-Cesare all week, he hadn’t appreciated him bringing his latest freak to court, even if she had been named a senator due to her father’s influence. I’d never met a vamp prude before, but I kind of thought I was looking at one now, and he clearly didn’t think much of me, either.
Just as well I was leaving, then.
“White would be a better choice,” he said, after a brief pause. “It reflects the sun and will keep you cooler.”
“Keep me cooler where?”
“Djeser-Djeseru, the mortuary temple of Pharaoh Hatshepsut.” I stared at him blankly. The tiniest of frowns creased the sun bronzed skin of his forehead, which even death hadn’t managed to fade. “It is on the day’s schedule?”
I finally caught a clue, although I found it hard to believe. “You’re going ahead with that?”
“Of course. Why would we not?”
“You were attacked?”
“An unfortunate interruption.” Hassani brushed it away. “My apologies for any inconvenience you were caused.”
“Inconvenience?”
“And my condolences on the loss of your . . . assistant . . . Raymond, I believe his name was?”
“Raymond was—is—my Second,” I said sharply, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned Dorina. “And we don’t know what happened to him. That’s one of the things I need to find out.”
Hassani shook his head sadly. “One no more powerful than he, and with such wounds . . . he is likely lost to us, as were many of my own people. But they will be avenged, I assure you. In the meantime, if you would care for breakfast before we leave?”
“I’m not hungry. What I want is—”
“It is a long way, even by air,” Hassani protested. “A good breakfast is essential—”
“Consul—”
“Teacher, please. I prefer it as a title.”
“As you like. But I don’t need breakfast because I’m not going anywhere. At least not into the desert.”
“You are mourning for your assistant,” he said. “It is understandable, but in these difficult times, the best we can do for those who look to us for leadership is to show them that nothing has changed. That we are proceeding as normal.”
“But things are not normal,” I said, struggling to hold onto my temper. “And Ray wasn’t my assistant, he was—is—my Second! Now, I will need some information, everything you have on what happened last night—”
“But that is not technically true, is it?” Hassani broke in, scratching his beard.
I stopped mid-sentence. “What isn’t?”
“A dhampir, if you will forgive me, has no Second. And Senator Dorina was captured, as I understand?”
I stared at him, a strange feeling starting in my belly. “What’s your point?”
“That you are welcome here at court despite your . . . disability . . . due to your father’s position. And your own as envoy from the North American Vampire Senate. But as for the rest . . .”
“What about the rest?”
“Well, if you will forgive me, the details of last night’s events are senatorial business. I cannot release that information to one of your status.”
I felt my blood pressure rise, to the point that Hassani could probably hear it pounding against my veins. But although he had a curved dagger at his waistband—a beautiful thing in carved steel, the only ornamentation he wore—he didn’t twitch so much as a finger toward it. Of course, he didn’t.
Dhampirs were a problem for lesser vampires, and the revenants that used to provide most of my income. But for someone like him? We were gutter scum. I was probably expected to be grateful that he wasn’t chucking me into a ditch.
But then, he couldn’t, could he? Because I might not be a senator anymore, by his reckoning, but I was still married to one. And Louis-Cesare could get all the information he wanted.
“Then tell Louis-Cesare,” I said tightly. “The point is—”
“But I am afraid I cannot do that, either,” Hassani said, looking remorseful.