Chapter 662: So-Called Czar
More elaborate decorating greeted me, the giant throne room's ceiling arching overhead with painted murals of battle scenes and old kings and queens. The cream marble floor gleamed on either side of the continuing carpet. Talk about an arrow shot to the seat of power. Any dummy could find Yure Danko.
Just follow the purple shag road.
I didn't hurry. Needed time to assess the situation anyway. Not only that, I wanted the so-called Czar to sweat out my approach. He watched me, or I assumed it was he, from a massive gold throne at the other end of the room. A line of werewolves stood on either side of the carpet, their sullen wolf energy making my skin crawl. Worse was the emptiness as a handful of sorcerers from the Czar's sect joined them. I kept my eyes fixed on Yure while my alter egos explored the room for me, filtering information while I maintained my steady, casual pace.
There are too many to fight, Shaylee sent. But a quake would even the odds.
Agreed. My vampire sighed. I believe your temper is rubbing off on me, Sydlynn. That was a horribly impulsive thing to do.
Oh, you think? It was hard to keep my lips from twisting into a grin.
Whiners, my demon snarled. Just let me at them.
Easy, tiger, I sent. Let's see where our show of power gets us before we run off half-cocked.
Again, my vampire sent. Run off half-cocked again.
Smartass hitchhiker.
I felt someone join me, caught sight of Vasyl striding forward to match my pace, the pair of us coming to a halt at the bottom of the three steps leading to the throne as a matched set. Well, as matched as I could get with him towering over me.
"Your Royal Majesty," Vasyl swept into a bow, "may I present Coven Leader Sydlynn Hayle, all the way from America."
Part of me wanted to be impressed by the Czar. After all, dude ran most of Europe with his organized mob system and his bullyboy selection of werewolves hand-raised to do his bidding. But the small, balding man perched on the edge of the massive throne reminded me more of an irritated squirrel than a great leader. At some point, someone should have suggested he try braces for those buck teeth he had going on, and maybe a good scrubbing would clean the shine from his greasy, pockmarked face. Though, for someone over a hundred years old, if Isabelle was to be believed, he didn't look a day over fifty.
I'm sure the smile he aimed in my direction was meant to make me feel in awe of his greatness. Instead, it just made me queasy.
Pretty apparent he'd had something black and green for lunch.
"We expected your arrival," Yure said as he hunched forward, the heavy purple robe he wore pulling across his chest. Gold clanked, the gaudy medallion on a chain as thick as my wrist clattering when he moved. "For quite some time now. You may bow before us."
Did he seriously just talk about himself in "Royal we"?
"I've been busy," I said. He could take my lack of genuflecting and shove it. "With more important things."
Sizzle, my demon sent.
Think of Charlotte, my vampire hissed.
Go for the throat, Shaylee sent.
Helpful bunch.
The Black Souls leader sat back, smile turned surly, bulging, muddy eyes showing even more white. "So you say." He gripped the carved arms of his throne with his girly hands, nails chewed to the quick. His pasty face went mottled a moment, patches of red flickering over his cheeks and down his throat. I felt the bubbling blackness of his sorcery emerge, press against mine. "And yet, despite your so-called power, you have as yet to defeat your enemy."
I wasn't here to trade insults with a crazy dude. "Whatever," I said. Took a leap of intuition and prodded him to see how much he'd already uncovered. "You know why I'm here."
This was the mafia we were talking about. He probably had damned Russian hackers diving into my private life as I stood there, all up in my business.
Another smile, this one tight and cruel. He steepled his hands before him, resting his elbows on his round stomach and struck a classic bad-guy pose. It took all the strength I had not to sigh and roll my eyes.
I was so over this already.
"Perhaps we do," he said. "But we would like to hear you beg."
I'd already been forced to plead for Charlotte once today. No way was I doing it again. Especially not in front of this charlatan and his little god show.
"I'm here for my wereguard," I said, slamming against his power with mine while the girls tensed inside me. "Give her back and I'll leave peacefully."
Gwendolyn's anxiety was palpable, coming at me in waves from over my right shoulder. The girl really had to learn to hold in her crap or at least shield properly. Then again, she hadn't exactly been prepared for this, I didn't think.
I had to thank Margaret Applegate for sending rank amateurs along for the ride.
Even as Yure reacted, I understood the European Council Leader's strategy. She could have sent more seasoned witches as backup/guides/babysitters, but she wanted me to fail. To have an excuse to kick me out of her territory forever. To start a war, likely, one the Brotherhood could use to their advantage.
"Your wereguard." He was still smiling, even more deeply. Yeah, his lunch leftovers were turning my stomach. "You claim her?"
"I do," I said. "We're bonded." Okay, so not exactly true anymore. Actually, not true at all from what I could tell. But we had been. That had to count for something.
"Is that so?" The sorcerer wriggled in his chair like a chubby puppy eager to play. "Well then, in that case, we have made a terrible error." He clapped his hands, gestured at Vasyl. "Bring her." His eyes fixed on me again, power pushing, pushing. "Her ???'????? ???? awaits."
Me, presumably. This could be bad. My vampire stilled. I'm certain Charlotte isn't bonded to us any longer.
So? My demon's anger sizzled. We remake the bond and get the hell out of here.
If it is that easy, Shaylee sent, why didn't Charlotte do so previously?
Maybe she didn't want to be bonded to us anymore. That truth hurt. A lot. But I had to offer it up.
I fear there is more to this than we know, my vampire sent, her worry rising to the surface of my mind.
Her worry was mutual.
Yure must have been keeping Charlotte close, because it was only a moment later a large door opened on my right. I turned toward it, knowing my eagerness was a sign of weakness, but unable to help myself. I caught a glimpse of Gwendolyn's unhappy face before I locked my gaze on Charlotte.
***
