After all, she had drowned her father in it, hadn't she.
All is not gold that glitters, and how well I knew it. As delicious as she looked, as pants-rendingly gorgeously as she moved, she was capital-D Dangerous. More, she was a vampire, a predator, one who fed on human beings to continue her very existence. Despite our past cooperation, I was still human, and she was still something that ate humans. If I acted like food, there would be an enormous part of her that wouldn't care about politics or advantage. It would just want to eat me.
So I did my best to look bored as she approached and offered me her hand, palm down.
I took her cold (smooth, pretty, deliciously soft—dammit, Harry, ignore your penis before it gets you killed!) fingers in mine, bent over them in a little formal bow, and released them without kissing her hand. If I had, I wasn't sure I wouldn't take a few nibbles, just to test out the texture as long as I was there.
As I rose, she met my eyes for a dangerous second and said, "Sure you don't want a taste, Harry?"
A surge of raw lust that was—probably—not my own flickered through my body. I smiled at her, gave her a little bow of my head, and made a small effort of will. The runes and sigils on my staff erupted into smoldering orange Hellfire. "Be polite, Lara. It would be a shame to get cinders and ashes all over those shoes."
She tilted her head back and let out a bubbling, throaty laugh, then touched the side of my face with one hand. "Subtle, as always," she replied. She lowered her hand and ran her fingertips over the odd grey material of my Warden's cloak. "You've developed… an eclectic taste in fashion."
"It's the same color," I said, "on both sides."
"Ah," Lara said, and inclined her head slightly to me. "I'd hardly respect you otherwise, I suppose. Still, should you ever desire a new wardrobe…" She touched the fabric of my shirt lightly. "You would look marvelous in white silk."
"Said the spider to the fly," I replied. "Forget it."
She smiled again, batted her lashes at me while my heart skipped a beat, and then slid on to Ramirez. She offered him her hand. "You must be Warden Ramirez."
This is the part where I got nervous. Ramirez loved women. Ramirez never shut up about women. Well, he never shut up about anything in general, but he'd go on and on about various conquests and feats of sexual athleticism and—
"A virgin?" Lara blurted. Lara blurted. She turned her head to me, grey eyes several shades paler than they had been, and very wide. "Really, Harry, I'm not sure what to say. Is he a present?"
I folded my arms and regarded Lara steadily, but said nothing. This was Ramirez's moment to make a first impression, and if he didn't do it on his own, Lara would regard him as someone who couldn't protect himself. It would probably mark him as a target.
Lara turned to walk a slow circle around Ramirez, inspecting him the way you might a flashy new sports car. She was of a height with him, but taller in the heels, and there was nothing but a languidly sensual confidence in the way she moved. "A handsome young bantam," she murmured. She trailed a finger across the line of his shoulders as she moved behind him. "Strong. Young. A hero of the White Council, I've heard." She paused to touch a fingertip to the back of his hand, and then shuddered. "And power, too." Her eyes went a few shades brighter as she completed the tour. "My goodness. I've recently fed, and still … Perhaps you'd care to ride with me back to the estate, and let Dresden walk. I promise to entertain you until he arrives."
I knew the look on Ramirez's face. It was the look of a young man who wants nothing so badly as to discard the complex things in life, like civilization, social mores, clothing, and speech, and see what happened next.
Lara knew it, too. Her eyes glittered brightly, and her smile was serpentine, and she pressed closer.
But Ramirez apparently knew about glittery gold, too. I didn't know he'd hidden a knife up his sleeve, but it appeared in his hand an instant before its tip pressed into the bottom of Lara's throat.
"I," he said very quietly, "am not food." And he met her eyes.
I hadn't seen a soulgaze from the outside before. It surprised me, how simple and brief it looked, when one wasn't being shaken to the core by it. Both of them stared, eyes widening, and then shuddered. Lara took a small step back from Ramirez, her breathing slightly quickened. I noticed, because I'm a professional investigator. She could have been concealing a weapon in that decolletage.
"If you meant to dissuade me," Lara said a moment later, "you haven't."
"Not you," Ramirez replied, lowering the knife. His voice was rough. "It wasn't to dissuade you."
"Wise," she murmured, "for one so young. I advise you, young wizard, not to hesitate so long to act, should another approach you as I did. A virgin is… extremely attractive to our kind. One such as you is rare, these days. Give a less restrained member of the court an opportunity as you did me, and they'll throw themselves on you in dozens—which would reflect poorly on me."
She turned back to me and said, "Wizards, you have my pledge of safe conduct."
I inclined my head to her and said, "Thank you."
"Then I will await your company in the car."
I nodded my head to her, and Lara walked back to her bodyguard, who looked like he was fighting off a fit of apoplexy.
I turned and eyed Ramirez.
He turned bright red.
"Virgin?" I asked him.
He turned more red.
"Carlos?" I asked.
"She's lying," he snapped. "She's evil. She's really evil. And lying."
I rubbed at my mouth to keep anyone from seeing me grin.
Hey. On nights like this, you take your laughs where you can get them.
"Okay," I said. "Not important."
"The hell it isn't!" he spat. "She's lying! I mean, I'm not… I'm…"
I nudged him with an elbow. "Focus, Galahad. We've got a job to do."
He exhaled with a growl. "Right."
"You saw what was inside her?" I asked.
He shuddered. "That pale thing. Her eyes… she was getting more turned on, and they kept looking more like its eyes."
"Yep," I said. "It's a tip-off to how close they are to starting to take a bite of you. You handled it right."
"You think so?"
I couldn't resist jibing him, just a little. "Just think. If you'd messed it up," I said, as Lara slid into the car one long, perfect leg at a time, "you'd be in the limo with Lara ripping your clothes off right now."
Ramirez looked at the car and swallowed. "Um. Yeah. Close one."
"I've met several of the White Court," I said. "Lara's probably the smartest. She's the most civilized, progressive, adaptable. She's definitely the most dangerous."
"She didn't look that tough," Ramirez said, but he was frowning in thought as he said it.
"She's dangerous in a different way than most," I said. "But I think her word is good."
"It is," Ramirez said firmly. "I saw that much."
"It's one of the things that makes her dangerous," I said, and headed for the limo. "Stay cool."
We walked over and I leaned down to see Lara in the back of the limo, seated on one of the dogcart-style seats, all poise and beauty and gorgeous grey eyes. She smiled at me as I looked in, and crooked a finger.
"Step into my limo," said the spider to the fly.
And we did.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The limo rolled right past the enormous stone house that was the chateau proper. It was bigger than a parking garage, and covered with cornices and turrets and gargoyles, like some kind of neo-Medieval castle.