Кейти Макалистер: Crouching Vampire, Hidden Fang

“No. I said they were preparing for a battle. The two things are not the same,” Kristoff said. “There are fewer reapers here than normal, but the ones who are here are higher in the organization. They are members of the governing board.”

“Brought out the big guns, did Frederic?” I murmured.

As we approached a double door at the end of the hallway, Kristoff paused for a moment, his head tipped as he listened intently. I put my hand on his back, as much for my own comfort as to remind him he was not alone anymore, when I noticed something curious.

“Uh, guys?” I held up my wrist. A crescent moon- shaped light glowed gently as it swung from my bracelet. “There are spirits here. Do you think it’s Ulfur?”

“He is a lich now, not a spirit. He wouldn’t register on your stone that way.”

“Oh. Good point. Well, regardless, there are some ghosties here somewhere.”

“Stay behind me,” Kristoff said, glancing over my shoulder at Andreas. The latter nodded at him as they exchanged some sort of macho guy look, the kind that said they had to protect the poor little feeble female in their care.

Silly vampires. I snorted to myself, flexing my fingers as I gathered a little light, preparing to halt the charge of reapers that was sure to follow when Kristoff flung open the doors to the conference room. They should know by now that this female was far from feeble.

Kristoff opened one of the doors a smidgen. Andreas and I crowded around him to peer in.

“ . . . tried and tried, but I just can’t understand them. Maybe one of you can, but for the life of me, I can’t see how I’m expected to do a job if these people can’t even be bothered to speak something understandable!”

The voice that reached our ears was female, whiny, and had a faint inflection that I mentally termed “mall rat.”

“Get her out of here,” a low male voice said. Its sheer lack of emotion sent a little skittering of fear down my back. That and a jolt of recognition, not to mention a number of memories I’d rather do without.

“Frederic’s in there,” I said in an almost inaudible whisper.

Kristoff nodded.

“You were told before that the director had no time for this,” a male voice said in a bossy, also familiar tone. “You must leave now.”

“Great. And Mattias.”

Kristoff’s back twitched.

“I don’t care what sort of war games you’re running-how am I going to get these two to T’ien?” the whiny woman demanded to know.

“You will leave now. You never should have been allowed in. The office is closed while the board deals with some unprecedented events. You must find your spirits’ destination by yourse-”

The door suddenly opened in front of us. For a moment, we stared in surprise at an equally surprised Mattias, behind whom was a petite woman holding a Chihuahua. Beyond her I could see two spirits, both male, both Chinese, dressed in identical tattered blue cloth jackets and pants. They looked like the poor immigrants forced to work on the railroad lines during one of California’s many growth spurts.

Mattias was the first to recover. “Wife!” he said, his blond brows pulling together in a frown. His gaze narrowed on Kristoff and Andreas. “You’ve come to flaunt more lovers in my face? I will not have it! You will not-”

I flung my handful of light past Kristoff and fully into Mattias’s face. He stood dazzled for a moment, the scowl fading into an expression of delight. “Pookie!”

“Oh, God,” Kristoff muttered.

Andreas snickered.

“Hey! He’s helping me ,” the other Zorya said, stuffing her dog into an oversize violet bag. Light flashed in her hands as she sent it flying around Mattias’s head.

He turned to her, a slightly less delighted expression on his face. “Zorya Amber.”

She smirked at me for a moment before turning to him, pursing her lips, and making one of the most repulsive simpers I’d ever beheld. “Big ol’ sacristan wants to help Amber get rid of these annoying ghosts, doesn’t he?”

“Of course,” Mattias agreed.

“What is going on?” a different male voice called out from the depths of the conference room. The door was only half-open, so we couldn’t see in. “What is the holdup? We have things to do to prepare for the attack. Remove the Zorya at once.”

“Mattias?” I said, smiling as he turned back to me. I shoved a handful of light into his face.

“Pia, Pia, Pia!”

“Get rid of the chick,” I said, nodding toward Amber.

She gasped and started to summon light again when I grabbed her by the strap of her purse and hauled her out into the hallway.

“Stop that!” she shrieked, slapping at my hands. “You’ll stretch it! Do you have any idea how much I paid for this bag?”

“Dump her outside,” I told Mattias. “And don’t let her gather up light!”

He grinned and grabbed both of her hands, frog-marching her outside, her squawks of protest echoing down the empty hallway. The two ghosts followed her, neither of them looking very happy.

“I’m sorry,” I told them as they left. “I hope I didn’t screw anything up for you guys, but things are bound to get a bit hairy, and it really is better if you’re not in the middle of it.”

The door was jerked open just as I turned toward it.

“Ah. You have arrived at last,” Frederic said as Kristoff tried to shove me behind himself. I poked him in the shoulder and scooted to the side. Frederic’s eyes bugged out a bit at the sight of me. “Zorya Pia! You . . . er . . . are here as well?”

“As you see. Good morning, Frederic,” I said brightly, clutching Kristoff’s arm. I might not be a wimp, but I wasn’t stupid, either. “You can stop whatever horrible plans you’ve set into motion with the capture of Alec, because the cavalry has, in fact, arrived.”

Both his eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. “Capture of Alec? Dare I assume you mean a Dark One?”

“Don’t try to be coy,” I said sternly, leveling my best glare at him while keeping a firm grip on Kristoff’s arm. He was as tense as a panther about to leap. “We know you know who Alec is, and we also know you captured him a few minutes ago. I’m sure, if you put your mind to it, you can figure out how-”

He stopped me with a slightly raised hand, his lips curling in a sickly approximation of amusement. “My dear Pia, I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re talking about.”

“You . . . er . . . don’t?” I looked at Kristoff. Is he bullshitting us?

I don’t think so. Kristoff’s gaze was unwavering and intent on Frederic. A lesser man would have backed up a step, but Frederic simply maintained an expression of mild interest.

“You knew we were coming, though,” Kristoff said, relaxing just a smidgen.

“Yes, of course. We were told you would be arriving to kill us.”

“We’re not here to kill you,” I said, attempting to figure out whether he was trying to pull something over on us.

He looked just as surprised as I felt, his demeanor cracking for one second as he glanced to the side.

Kristoff pushed past him into the room. It was a standard conference room, although the long table in the center had inlaid marquetry that I wished I had time to admire. Two men and a woman stood grouped at the far end, none of them shrieking threats, performing a chant to initiate one of their ghastly ceremonies, or doing anything, really, other than looking somewhat scared and nervous.

I looked at them for a few moments, then back at Frederic. He looked even more nervous than they did. Something did not add up.

“All right, where are all the high-powered reapers?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

Frederic backed into the room when Andreas walked toward him. He waved at the group of three. “This is the governing board. Rather than let you kill innocent members, we opted to clear the building and meet you here, face-to-face, in a fervent hope that we might reason with you. In fact, I think it would be best for all of us if I might have a word alone with you. . . .”