He stared at me out of one black eye, then turned towards the door. "They are coming."
I knew who "they" were. The party was over. The vampires were coming. The rat king sprang down the stairs and scooped up the fallen ratman. He tossed him over his shoulder as if it were no effort, then he was gone, running for the tunnel, fast, fast as a mouse surprised by the kitchen light. A dark blur.
I heard heels clicking down the hallway, and I stepped away from the door. It opened, and Theresa stood on the landing. She stared down at me and the empty room, hands on hips, mouth squeezed tight. "Where are they?"
I held up my wounded hand. "They did their part, then they left."
"They weren't supposed to leave," she said. Theresa made an exasperated sound low in her throat. "It was that rat king of theirs, wasn't it?"
I shrugged. "They left; I don't know why."
"So calm, so unafraid. Didn't the rats frighten you?"
I shrugged again. When something works, stay with it.
"They were not supposed to draw blood." She stared at me. "Are you going to shape shift next full moon?" Her voice held a hint of curiosity. Curiosity killed the vampire. One could always hope.
"No," I said, and I left it at that. No explanation. If she really wanted one, she could just beat me against the wall until I told her what she wanted to hear. She wouldn't even break a sweat. Of course, Aubrey was being punished for hurting me.
Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. "The rats were supposed to frighten you, animator. They don't seem to have done their job."
"Maybe I don't frighten that easily." I met her eyes without any effort. They were just eyes.
Theresa grinned at me suddenly, flashing fang. "Nikolaos will find something that frightens you, animator. For fear is power." She whispered the last as if afraid to say it too loud.
What did vampires fear? Did visions of sharpened stakes and garlic haunt them, or were there worse things? How do you frighten the dead?
"Walk in front of me, animator. Go meet your master."
"Isn't Nikolaos your master as well, Theresa?"
She stared at me, face blank, as if the laughter had been an illusion. Her eyes were cold and dark. The rats' eyes had held more personality. "Before the night is out, animator, Nikolaos will be everyone's master."
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"Jean-Claude's power has made you foolish."
"No," I said, "it isn't that."
"Then what, mortal?"
"I would rather die than be a vampire's flunky."
Theresa never blinked, only nodded, very slowly. "You may get your wish."
The hair at the back of my neck crawled. I could meet her gaze, but evil has a certain feel to it. A neck-ruffling, throat-tightening feeling that tightens your gut. I have felt it around humans as well. You don't have to be undead to be evil. But it helps.
I walked in front of her. Theresa's boots clicked sharp echoes from the hallway. Maybe it was only my fear talking, but I felt her staring at me, like an ice cube sliding down my spine.
Chapter 11
The room was huge, like a warehouse, but the walls were solid, massive stone. I kept waiting for Bela Lugosi to sweep around the corner in his cape. What was sitting against one wall was almost as good.
She had been about twelve or thirteen when she died. Small, half-formed br**sts showed under a long flimsy dress. It was pale blue and looked warm against the total whiteness of her skin. She had been pale when alive; as a vampire she was ghostly. Her hair was that shining white-blonde that some children have before their hair darkens to brown. This hair would never grow dark.
Nikolaos sat in a carved wooden chair. Her feet did not quite touch the floor.
A male vampire moved to lean on the chair arm. His skin was a strange shade of brownish ivory. He leaned over and whispered in Nikolaos's ear.