Part 6 (1/2)

They were. Obviously the Prime had at least a hundred years' practice as a warrior over his mate, but the Queen was no slouch and had already doubled her speed and agility since taking the Signet. It was the Queen, in fact, who had decided they should learn to fight as a team, two coordinated halves of a d.a.m.ned scary whole.

”So what am I supposed to do, then?” Miranda asked, swinging her blade in a smooth arc toward his head.

David parried easily and drove her back. ”I told you,” he said calmly. ”Stay out of it.”

”I can't stay out of it,” she snapped. ”He's starving and raping those girls to death.” She leapt out of the way of the sword that barely missed her sleeve and spun sideways, bringing her sword up hard and almost knocking his from his hand with a loud ringing strike. ”He's been here two days-I can't just look the other way while that's going on under my own roof!”

”Unless those girls come out and say that they want to be rescued, we can't a.s.sume that they're unhappy,” David shot back. ”Intervening without an accusation of abuse from one of them would be tantamount to a declaration of war against Hart. No doubt he has them too scared to speak up for themselves. Chances are that's why he brought them in the first place-to try to goad us into acting.”

”Then why all this 'let's be allies' c.r.a.p?”

David made a disgusted noise and ducked her blade, spinning around to slam his sword back into hers. Sweat was running down Miranda's face, her hair and T-s.h.i.+rt were soaked, and even David had beads appearing on his forehead-a first, Faith thought, since she'd last seen him fight Deven. Miranda's fighting style was similar to David's already, so she knew a lot of his moves, and her only disadvantage other than inexperience was her tendency to let emotions get the better of her. That, too, would take time to overcome.

”That's exactly what it is-c.r.a.p,” David said. ”As soon as he gets what he wants, he won't need to kiss a.s.s anymore. But I'll have the a.n.a.lysis of that earpiece and he'll have only what information I want to give him. He thinks he used me, I keep the device, everyone wins.”

”Not everyone.” Miranda dropped flat to avoid being cut, then swung her leg around and knocked David backward off his feet; he hit the ground in a roll and was up again in a blur of motion, already driving the Queen toward the edge of the circle. She dove in to counterattack, but all she got was her sword clattering to the ground several feet away, just out of reach.

David paused, glanced at her sword, and the blade rose into the air and zipped over to his outstretched hand. ”Now what are you going to do, my Lady?” he asked politely, swinging both in circles.

”How can you be such a coldhearted b.a.s.t.a.r.d when you know what's happening to those women?” she demanded, crossing her arms. ”After what happened to me?”

He gave her an annoyed look. ”Oh, were you turned into a vampire as a teenager against your will and taken to be part of a harem?”

”You know what I mean!” The Queen's anger flared and she pushed it outward-Faith could feel it starting to boil in her own blood. The nerve of the Prime, refusing to help . . . what kind of man was he, anyway, to . . .

Faith caught herself and bolstered her s.h.i.+elds before her thoughts became violent. This was one of Miranda's weapons; it was hard to defend against and most people would have no idea how. Luckily she did. So did David.

His power-aura expanded, her wave of wrath bouncing off him harmlessly, and he gave her a stern look. ”Remember the rules, Miranda. I don't throw things at you, and you don't try to heart-spank me.”

”Maybe you deserve it,” Miranda said. Even if her anger wasn't affecting them anymore, it was still a palpable force in the room, and Faith knew, from seeing this sort of thing before, that if she didn't ground it out it would make her do something impulsive and foolish- -like throwing herself to the ground, rolling under the Prime's spinning blades, and cras.h.i.+ng into his feet, which worked well enough at first, sending both swords into the air and the Prime to the floor on his stomach. Miranda got up first and flung herself sideways in time to catch one of the swords, and David rolled right and caught the other.

Then they were back on their feet, Miranda attacking with unrestrained fury, exactly the kind that got rookie Elite killed. For a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of blade and blade hitting each other so hard it was a wonder neither broke. Faith watched, smiling, feeling proud of the Queen for having learned so much so quickly. Sophie had been a good teacher . . .

. . . whoever she was.

Faith frowned, her attention momentarily sidetracked by the memory of the night she'd met the diminutive warrior. Sophie had been drunk off her a.s.s and boasted she was ex-Shadow, which Faith had scoffed at until Sophie challenged her to a fight out behind the bar and proceeded to kick Faith's a.s.s up and down the alley. Faith had asked her for pointers, and they'd met periodically to spar, just for fun, but she'd never really known anything about Sophie beyond that, and Sophie had never mentioned the Shadow again.

Had she really had an ulterior motive? Or was Hart being, as usual, a paranoid s.h.i.+t-stirrer? If someone had hired the Shadow, why would they want to help Miranda become Queen? What other motive could they have, given that Sophie had had plenty of chances to kill Miranda when she was human, but had been, more or less, her friend? Had Sophie gone off mission when Miranda won her over to the Signet cause?

There was no way to know now. A search of Sophie's old studio had turned up absolutely no personal effects whatsoever, only a cache of weapons that were clean of any kind of fingerprints, even Miranda's.

Faith came back to reality in a rush as a loud clattering sound startled her. She looked up to see that Miranda was once again disarmed and David was standing over her, sword pointed at her throat. To his credit, at least he wasn't stepping on her neck.

”G.o.dd.a.m.n it!” Miranda snarled. She tried to escape first to one side, then the other, but David was too fast for her and kept her pinned.

He was calm as always-Faith was sure it infuriated Miranda, because it infuriated most people. ”Eventually you're going to have to learn to listen to me,” David told her. ”Sometimes life is unfair, beloved. If there were a war between our territories, Hart would hire hunters, send a.s.sa.s.sins by the dozen, and rally other Signets against us. If you want to do something for those girls, you're going to have to think of a better idea than charging in there to liberate them like some avenging man-smiting angel.”

They glared at each other for a long moment, and Faith wasn't sure whether they were going to start fighting again or jump each other and have s.e.x on the training room floor. She was pretty sure both had happened at least once.

”So you don't care at all what happens to them,” Miranda accused. ”You'll be fine with him taking them back to New York and using them as toys until they die.”

Finally an edge of anger crept into David's voice. ”I never said I was fine with it. But I have considered the consequences, which apparently you have chosen to ignore. In this case the price of their lives doesn't weigh more than all of those that would be lost in a war. They don't outweigh the thought of Hart having you killed, or worse, in revenge. This is how it is, Miranda. The decisions we make aren't pretty, but we have to consider the Shadow World as a whole, not just individual lives.”

Miranda slapped his sword away, and he stepped back to allow her to stand. She ignored his proffered hand up. ”Individual lives are what make up our world,” she said. ”If we're not willing to step in and help when someone is suffering, then why are we even here? To maintain some bulls.h.i.+t social order that in the end means nothing without justice and compa.s.sion? I tell myself you're not as heartless as you act, but sometimes I wonder if I'm wrong.”

If anyone else had tried to bait the Prime, Faith would have run for cover. David, however, simply took a deep breath, retrieved both swords, and handed Miranda hers. He took his own and wiped the blade down, then sheathed it.

He addressed Faith. ”I'll be in my workroom for the remainder of the evening.”

Without looking at or speaking to Miranda, he walked away.

Miranda's anger seemed to deflate once he was gone, and she shook her head and went over to a bench to examine her sword.

Faith sat down next to her. Miranda still had no idea that Sophie's motives were in question. As far as she knew, the warrior had been her teacher and friend and had died helping her. Miranda treated Sophie's sword with reverence, even though it wasn't the ideal weapon for her-she needed something balanced a little differently, and a little shorter. They'd tried her out on other blades, including some from Sophie's collection, but so far nothing had been perfect enough to persuade Miranda to give up the one she had.

Miranda obviously didn't want to talk, and that was fine, although Faith knew in a few minutes she'd probably change her mind and get angry all over again.

Before Faith could offer any sort of conciliatory advice, however, her com chimed.

”Star-three here,” Faith said.

”This is Elite Sixty-two, door guard at the guest suites. I have a situation here that needs your urgent attention.”

Miranda sat forward, listening keenly, though the guard probably had no idea she was there.

”Go ahead, Elite Sixty-two,” Faith said.

”I have a woman here from Prime Hart's . . . entourage . . . asking to see the Queen.”

Faith and Miranda exchanged a look of shock, and Faith raised an eyebrow at her; Miranda nodded once.

”Request forwarded,” Faith replied. ”Stand by for further orders.”

Miranda lifted her wrist and said, ”Elite Sixty-two.”

”This is Elite Sixty-two, my Lady.”

”Bring the woman to the first-floor audience room. Keep her under heavy guard. I'll be waiting.”

”As you will it, my Lady.”

Miranda hit the door running with Faith one step behind her.

The audience chamber was one of the most pretentious things in the Haven, but under certain circ.u.mstances it was extremely useful. It was about the size of the other meeting rooms and studies where the Pair conducted receptions and business with the visiting Primes, but it was not set up to create comfort and camaraderie; it was a royal chamber whose entire design was meant to intimidate visitors and remind them who was in control.

Primes were occasionally called upon to settle disputes among the more powerful vampires of their territory, known as the Court-those who weren't warriors, but who were allies of the Signet, were considered n.o.blemen and a.s.sisted the Signet in various ways. In return they were protected from gangs, hunters, and human interference in their affairs; smarter Primes like David kept up good relations with human inst.i.tutions as well, particularly state and local governments, so if someone from the Court had, say, an issue with zoning laws or trade regulations, the Prime could use his influence-and occasionally his cash-to smooth things over. David had lent Elite to some of the higher-ranking vampires to help train their own personal security forces or run investigations into various forms of unrest, especially in other cities in the South where he couldn't be a constant presence as he was in Austin.

Some of the Court were entrepreneurs, and some came from old money. David's Court was made up of a combination of the two, weighted toward the former, as most of his friends were involved somehow in security, technology, or finance.

Vampires learned quickly that they could easily outlast their own money, and living in poverty wasn't exactly a fun way to pa.s.s the centuries, so those who were remotely intelligent found ways to save and invest. That was part of how David had become so wealthy even before taking the Signet. He knew a good thing when he saw one and had invested in little-known start-up companies like Apple and Intel. He still had a large sum in the market, but most of it was socked away in accounts all over the world, and he could live on the interest alone for another five centuries. Miranda was ent.i.tled to half of the Signet account, but she had her own separate account for her musical earnings as well, and with David's shrewd advice it had already grown by leaps and bounds.