Midnight In St. Pertsburg (The Invisible War 1) (30 page)

Mike knew what Ian didn’t say. Getting lost in here—Mike didn’t want to think about it. And what option did they have? The monastery had Andrei. They couldn’t take Nikolai to Revelations. And the potential for civilian casualties was too high if they fled to a hospital and the shining man found them.
 

If the shining man came after them while they took shelter with the vampires…well now, that had a certain appeal. “So which way do we go?”

“There,” Ian pointed down a tunnel that looked the same as all the rest. “I think.”

Nazeem released Nikolai, stepped away from him, took a long slow breath through his open mouth. “It definitely leads away from—” He didn’t finish the sentence.

“They’re calling me,” Nikolai whispered, eyes wide. “I can hear them calling my name.”

Nazeem took his arm again. “Best not to listen.” He nudged his head at Ian, a silent entreaty to lead on.

Time was meaningless in the tunnels. Mike counted his steps to try to force his mind around some concept of space, even after they’d long passed the distance it should take to walk between St. Isaac’s and the Winter Palace. Rose and the vampires were more twitchy than Mike liked. Ian looked calm, focused, but Mike had to wonder how he appeared to Rose’s othersense.
 

They reached a branch where Ian hesitated. He moved back and forth between each path, frowning. “Nazeem, which way goes closer to fairy?”

Nazeem again let go of Nikolai to sniff at the two corridors. The Russian vampire made a sudden break for it, was past Ian before he could react.
 

Nazeem jumped after him in a blur of motion. Mike held up his hand towards the tunnel and magic burned through him. Mike winced, closing his eyes. He heard the rumbling quake, felt the ground shudder as the roof collapsed ahead of Nikolai. Nikolai stopped, shielding his head. Nazeem tackled him, rolled them both through the dust, managed to restrain flailing arms and pushed Nikolai down to the ground.
 

Rose and Ian ran up to help. Nikolai started screaming. Ian looked up and down the tunnels and Mike knew what he was thinking. Time was ticking away. “Make him stop, before they hear us.”

Nazeem didn’t ask who Ian meant. He ripped a strip of cloth from his already ruined shirt and balled it up, shoved it in Nikolai’s mouth. “Mike,” Nazeem said, “can you bind him? Magically?”

“Not reliably.” Not in the shape he was in. Not in this place.

“Wait! Everybody be quiet.” Rose had her hand against the wall. Her eyes squeezed shut; her forehead wrinkled with effort.
 

Mike waited, counting every heartbeat. Only a matter of time now before something found them. The smell of blood, Nikolai’s screams—something was going to notice. “Rose…,” he prodded.

“Shh.” She felt along the wall, moving first in the direction they’d come from, then in the direction Nikolai had run. Ten feet, then twenty, climbing over the rubble Mike had created. She moved to the other wall. “Here,” she said. “I can feel the vampires on the other side.”

That was enough for Ian. He stabbed his sword into the wall where Rose had indicated and the wall parted, opening to madness.

*
   
*
   
*

Rose pushed past Ian, desperate to get back into the world where she could breathe and think and feel. Nothing on this side was real and her othersense knew it, rebelling against all the evidence her eyes, her feet, her hands wanted to give. This wasn’t air that filled her lungs, wasn’t light that filled her eyes, wasn’t sound that came to her ears. Nothingness, a void, and the shadows of her friends. Too much longer and it would drive her mad, the duality of what she sensed and what she
sensed
.

She ran out through the gap and stumbled as weight and sound and shape became real again. She so relished the regained connection between her ears and her insides, she didn’t immediately recognize the sounds of screams all around.

The room was, of all things, a recreation room. A pool table, ping pong, several chess boards, and a big screen TV in the corner with what looked like a Wii plugged in. Hard to say what had been going on before Ian’s sword had come from nowhere and opened a hole in reality, but by the number of men and women running for the exits, it seemed to be quite the popular hangout for…someone.
 

Rose’s gaze fell on a clock on the wall. Was it really so late? Had they been outside reality for so many hours? Or was time just different on the other side?

Ian came through right behind her and grabbed a chess piece off a nearby board, tossing it back in among the rubble where it would be tough to see. Mike came next, clutching at the back of a chair for support as he stepped over the mushroom ring that looked really strange growing out of the marble floor. Nazeem dragged a still-struggling Nikolai through, pushing the half-crazed vampire down to the floor as he took in their new surroundings.

“My, but you do know how to make an entrance,” came a dry voice from the door most of the room’s occupants had fled through. Wentworth.

“Nikolai!” a woman screeched behind him. Wentworth stepped aside to let another vampire—Tatiana?—run into the room. Nazeem relinquished a now dazed Nikolai to her care.

“I’m assuming there’s a story here,” Wentworth said, “but you all look like you’re about to collapse. Perhaps I could offer rest and some refreshment? And,” he eyed Ian and Nazeem, “some medical attention?”

At this point, even the hospitality of vampires was welcome, as far as Rose was concerned. “You have a doctor on call?”

“We keep a doctor on staff. It wouldn’t do to have any of our…guests…fall to illness.”

And with that, Rose knew exactly who the people were they had frightened away. “Sorry if we upset your blood bank.”

Wentworth waved the thought away. “It’s no matter. They’re easily startled. Too many ghost stories, I suppose.”

Ian stepped forward. “Thank you. For the hospitality.”

Wentworth smiled and looked over at Mike. Rose could tell he was waiting for confirmation from the padre. Mike knew it too, gritted his teeth, grumbled something. “I’m sorry, Father, I didn’t quite hear—”

“Yes! Blast it, yes. We need your help.”

Rose didn’t care for the enjoyment she felt from the vampire, but his words were polite enough. “We are most pleased to offer it. If you can keep your feet for a little longer, we should go inform her majesty that you have returned Nikolai to us.”

“Let’s get it over with,” Mike said. Rose did note he put his crosses away. Ian, likewise, sheathed his sword.
 

Wentworth led them through rooms that looked more lived-in than the parts of the palace they had seen before. The furniture was still elegant, the walls still painted and gilded, but there was more a sense of comfort than display to the arrangements. Rose suspected they were in the real living area of the palace, well off the tourist paths.
 

Vampires they passed were curious. Unsurprising, after their last interaction with Anastasia. Rose herself was cautious, trepidatious even, about the reception they were about to receive.
 

Wentworth escorted them to a sitting room of jewel-toned green and gold furnishings. The doorknobs looked like they might be real emeralds. Rose reached out and touched one as they passed.
 

Anastasia lounged on a chaise, resplendent in a pure white gown bedecked with pearls and diamonds. She sat up as Wentworth entered. He bowed. Rose took her cue from Ian and bowed when he did. She couldn’t see Nazeem, but Mike stayed standing.

Rose was getting pretty confident about her vampire reading; Anastasia was annoyed, but not angry. Rose held as still as possible, trying not to draw the Tsarina’s attention. As long as Anastasia wasn’t focused on her, Rose’s brain could work in her presence.

“Carter.” Anastasia’s rich voice flowed through Rose, tried to drive all other thoughts from her head. Rose struggled to stay focused. The rest of Anastasia’s words were in Russian.

Ian whispered a translation. “These people displease me. Why have you brought them here?”

“Your majesty, I should tell you,” Wentworth was in full obsequious mode, “Nikolai disappeared earlier this evening. Tatiana saw him taken by a cluster of men in black.”

Anastasia was on her feet. “You did not tell me?”

“Forgive me, but we knew neither their identity nor their purpose. I could not risk your majesty’s well being, had you wished to go after him.”

“So you did nothing?”

Wentworth spread his hand. “Does your majesty think so little of me? Just moments ago, Father Michael and his associates returned him to us.”

“What?” Rose asked on Ian’s translation. Nazeem gave her a sharp look backed with a wave of concern. Okay, okay, she got it. If Wentworth wanted to make it sound like he’d sent them after Nikolai, that was vampire politics and vampire business. “Sorry,” Rose said to Wentworth, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Anastasia’s annoyance snapped over to Rose and Rose’s head swam. She missed the next few exchanges, struggling against Anastasia’s presence. When she came back, Ian was explaining, in brief, how they’d broken into the palace. At least now that they were back in favor, they got to have their talk in English.

Wentworth was genuinely interested. “A fascinating account. Tunnels through reality. I might not believe it, were the evidence not sitting in our gaming room.”

Anastasia smiled. “Such a dramatic rescue. Of course, you are welcome in my house. Carter, make these people comfortable. They look like they are about to fall over. We can talk more once they’ve had a chance to rest.”

“Of course, your majesty.” Wentworth bowed again and led them away from Anastasia.

A cluster of people had gathered outside the sitting rooms, both vampire and human. Wentworth snapped out what sounded like instructions—Rose really needed to learn Russian—and everyone scattered.
 

“Rooms are being prepared for you. And some fresh clothing. Would you like food now or after you’ve had a chance to sleep?”

“Why are you doing this?” Mike asked. “Why are you helping us?”

“If I understand your story correctly, it is not safe to go back to your hotel tonight.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

Wentworth tilted his head, smiled at Mike. “I find the lot of you interesting. As does Anastasia.” He nodded to a girl lurking in the shadows. A living girl. She stepped forward. “This is Caroline. She’s American, like you. She’ll take you to your rooms and see that you are provided for.” Rose didn’t miss the look Carter exchanged with Nazeem.
 

Caroline smiled and gave a little curtsey. She couldn’t have been older than eighteen. “Please, if you’ll follow me.”

*
   
*
   
*

Nazeem fell in next to Rose as they walked. He spoke softly. “You wanted to meet the people who live here with the vampires. There she is.”

Caroline practically bounced down the hall. She seemed out of place with her hot-pink hair and the mesh stockings under her short suede skirt. “So she’s one of Wentworth’s…” Rose didn’t know the word. Guests? Prisoners? Pets?

He gave a tight nod. The swirling layers of his emotions were too complex for Rose to pick apart.

Caroline took them down a side hallway and pointed out four doors. “Only one of these rooms has its own bathroom, and—you know, ladies first or whatever.” The girl wasn’t chewing gum, but to Rose’s ear, she sounded like she should have been. “You guys will have to take turns at the end of the hall.” She led Rose to the room on the end. “This one is yours, um….”

“Rose.”

Caroline smiled. “Rose, sure.” She wasn’t at all afraid or nervous or sad or any of the things vampire prisoners were supposed to be.
 

“You never answered Carter if you wanted any food or drink before you slept.”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” Mike and Ian echoed her refusal.

Caroline looked over at Ian. “If you’re hurt, I can bring the doctor.”

“Nothing serious. I mean it,” Ian insisted when Mike glared at him. The padre seemed to be taking it personally that Ian had gotten hurt by the shining man’s voiders. “If they could just bring some bandages with the fresh clothes, I can dress it myself.”

“I got it.” Caroline looked over at Nazeem, as though asking permission. Nazeem gave her a nod, and she ran off.

Rose left the men arguing in the hall as to which of them got the first shower. Rose was more than happy to take advantage of being a girl and the private space that brought her.

The room was, naturally, the most lavish thing she’d ever seen, their current hotel included. Everything coordinated in lavender and cream. And gilt, of course. God forbid any surface in the palace not be covered in gold. Velvet and lace pillows graced carved wooden chairs burnished to translucency. The bed had actual curtains hanging around it. The half-open door across the room led to a bathroom that seemed to be made entirely of marble. Or malachite? Rose still wasn’t sure of the difference.

A knock on her door and Rose went to answer. A man stood there with a stack of clothes and towels. Rose thanked him and locked the door behind her.
 

A scalding hot shower penetrated the half-daze that had blanketed Rose’s brain since the fight. She tilted her head back, let the water run over her face, down her body, awakening her skin with its burning caress.

It brought her mind back as well and she stretched out the othersense that had felt dull and blurry since they’d stepped outside of reality. From one direction, she got Ian, bright and unmistakable. His usual curiosity and the post-fight high were overlaid with his pain and worry, and ragged with exhaustion. The end of a pretty rough day for him. For all of them.

From the other direction….

Even under the heat of water, Rose blushed.

Caroline had joined Nazeem in his room. Their minds twined together in an ecstasy so intimate Rose flinched away. But like a bad smell, once she knew it was there, she couldn’t ignore it. She felt it, felt them, so close and so deep in each other Rose’s own body trembled in response.