Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles #4) - Ilona Andrews Page 0,65

He stumbled and doubled over, clutching at his side. Blood dripped between his fingers. Half of his breastplate hung down, crawling and shifting as the individual nanothreads attempted to reconnect.

For a moment everyone forgot to posture and just stared. She had pried Kurr out of his armor. The humiliation was absolute.

The prompt flashed on her eyepiece again.

“You are guests of House Krahr in the presence of a knight of House Krahr. Any violence against other guests of House Krahr will be met with immediate retribution. Cross this line and die.”

Kurr gripped his sword. “I’ll kill that bitch.”

“Kurr!” Suykon barked.

Kurr charged.

A shadow fell from the sky. She barely had a chance to shy back. An enormous male vampire landed in front of her in full combat armor, his broad back blocking her view. His gray hair was cut human short.

The new vampire swung his blood hammer. It ripped the air with a hair-raising whine and connected.

Maud lunged to the side, trying to see.

Kurr was twenty feet away, flat on his ass, trying to breathe. The other two vampires knelt by him, struggling to activate his crest. Only Suykon remained standing.

The new vampire opened his mouth, displaying his fangs, and bent his head forward, exhaling menace, like a bull ready to charge. He was a giant even by vampire standards. Her eyepiece tagged him, identifying his name.

Maud blinked.

“Our apologies, Lord Consort,” Suykon said. “We meant no harm. We clearly misinterpreted the situation.”

Lord Otubar unhinged his jaws and said in a deep voice. “Leave.”

The two knights picked Kurr up like a child and the four of them took off down the path.

Lord Otubar turned to the lees and the tachi. “What were the two of you doing here without an escort?”

Nuan Tooki ducked her head, fluffing her tail, and clasped her little paw-hands together, looking almost terminally adorable. “Please forgive us, Lord Consort. It’s all my fault. I was lost. This brave tachi came to my rescue and then these mean vampires came and menaced us. You are not like them. You are a good vampire. I was so frightened and helpless, and you have saved us. I am so sorry.”

“Go back to your quarters.”

“Thank you.”

The lees scampered off. Ke’Lek looked at them, hesitated for a moment, and followed the lees down the path.

“Dismissed,” Lord Otubar said.

Her legs carried Maud down the path before her brain had time to process what happened.

“My lady,” Otubar called to her back.

She stopped and pivoted to face him. “Lord Consort?”

“Good strike,” he said.

12

Maud sat on the barren balcony. Her quarters projected a screen in front of her and she scrolled through the files of the wedding party, trying to make some sense of it. Her new status gave her access to more detailed dossiers, and she was speed-reading them while she could. The wealth of additional information made her brain buzz. She was in a rotten mood.

Wind stirred her hair. Maud glanced up, and her gaze lingered on the distant mesas. She liked being high up, but the breathtaking view failed to pull her out of her unease. The Kozor and Serak were planning something, but what? They had only two hundred fighters, while the Krahr had thousands.

She’d tried to find Arland after her encounter with the overly enthusiastic best man and his yipping escort, but he wasn’t anywhere she could go. She sent a message to his harbinger, but he hadn’t responded.

She’d been spoiled. For the last few weeks, he’d been at her beck and call. She only had to say his name and there he was, ready to help. Now she wanted to talk to him, and he was out of reach.

He is a Marshal. I’ve been taking his availability for granted.

Maud missed him. It ate at her.

Maybe he got bored.

It was a definite possibility. She could just be a brief infatuation. He rescued her, got to be the hero, and it was exciting with the inn under siege, and now, regular life returned and the novelty faded. Maybe she was a travel romance.

The recording of Arland facing his mother replayed in her head. No. He loved her.

The only way to have constant access to Arland was to marry him. That’s what marriage was, at the core—the exclusive right to spend as much time with someone you loved as they were willing to give.

Her screen chimed, announcing someone at the front door. Her heart beat faster. She touched the screen and there he was. She shot out of the chair as if she’d found a