“We do,” she said, her tone petulant.

Then someone grabbed my shoulder in iron-strong fingers and flipped me onto my back. The dark shapes of trees spun above me, nothing more than black outlines against the lights of Chicago reflecting from the overcast.

There was barely enough light to let me see the pale, delicate features of a tiny woman no larger than a child. Seriously, she might have been four-foot-six, though her proportions seemed identical to those of any adult. She had very pale skin with a light dusting of freckles, and looked as if she might be nineteen years old. Her hair was light brown and very straight. Her eyes were extremely odd-looking. One was pale, icy blue, the other deep, dark green, and I had an immediate instinct that whatever creature lurking behind those mismatched eyes was not a rational being.

She was wearing a gown with long, flowing sleeves, and some kind of sleeveless robe and corset over that. She was barefoot, though. I knew because I could feel her cold little foot when she planted it on my chest and leaned over to peer down at me.

“We’re too late. Look, it’s starting to go bad.”

“Nonsense,” said the male voice. “It’s a perfectly appropriate specimen. Mortal wizards are supposed to be worn and tough, our love.”

I looked up and saw the other speaker. He was perhaps five-foot-six, with a short brush of red hair, a black beard, and skin that looked darkened and bronzed by the sun. He wore black silk clothing, and looked like he’d just come from a dress rehearsal of Hamlet.

“Aha,” I said. “You must be Esteban and Esmerelda. I’ve heard about you.”

“We are famous,” hissed the little woman, beaming up at the man.

He gave her a stern look, sighed, and said, “Aye, we are. Here to stop you from allowing Arianna to proceed with her design.”

I blinked. “What?”

Esmerelda leaned closer. Her hair brushed my nose and lips. “Are its ears broken? If the ears are defective, can we detach them and send them back?”

“Peace, our love,” Esteban said. He hunkered down on his heels and eyed me. “It isn’t its fault. It doesn’t even realize how Arianna is manipulating it.”

“What are you talking about?” I said. “Look, folks, no one wants to stop Arianna more than me.”

Esteban waved a vague hand. “Yes, yes. It feels it must rescue its spawn. It will try to take her back, from the very heart of His realm. Placing it at the center of vast moving powers where it might tip balances any number of ways.”

“It hardly looks large enough.” Esmerelda sniffed. “It’s just a ragged, dirty creature.”

Esteban shrugged. “We know, by now, that the outside hardly matters. What lies within is what holds importance. Would you agree, ragged wizard?”

I licked my lips. I really didn’t feel up to bantering with a couple of insane vampires, but it was probably my best course of action. Anything that lives long enough tends to lose track of passing time rather easily, on the minute-to-minute scale. After a few thousand years have gone by, an hour doesn’t really rate. If my brother and company were successful in their fight, they would realize I was gone within a few minutes—and I didn’t think the Eebs had carried me far enough away to let them evade Mouse. As far as I can tell, Mouse can follow a scent trail from space.

Talk to them. Stall.

“That depends upon the nature of the subject and observer,” I said. “But if you are using the metaphor in its simplest form, then yes. The true nature of any given being supersedes its outer appearance in terms of importance.” I tried a smile. “This is quite pleasant treatment, by the way,” I said. “I had expected something entirely different.”

“We wanted to eat you and kill you. Or kill you, then eat you,” Esmerelda said, smiling back. Hers was a lot crazier- looking than mine. I hoped. “And might still.”

“Obviously you had something else in mind, though,” I said. “Apparently you wish to talk. I’m more than willing to listen.”

“Excellent,” Esteban said. “We are pleased that you can address the matter rationally.”

“To which matter do you refer, specifically?”

“The matter of your involvement with Arianna’s plan,” Esteban said. “We wish you to discontinue your participation.”

“That . . . could be problematic. Since if she does what she intends to do, it’s going to kill me, along with the child’s mother.”

The two vampires traded a long, silent glance, their facial expressions shifting subtly. I got the impression that a lot of communication got done.

Esteban turned back to me. “How did you learn of this, ragged wizard?”

“It’s what I do,” I said.

“Oooo,” said Esmerelda. She slid her body on top of mine, straddling my hips with hers. She was so tiny that I could hardly feel her weight on me. She smelled . . . wrong. Like formaldehyde and mildew. “It is arrogant. We adore arrogance. It’s so sweet to watch arrogant little things succumb. Do you like our pretty eyes, ragged wizard? Which color do you like more? Look closely and carefully.”

You don’t look vampires in the eyes. Everyone knows that one. Even so, I’d had a couple of encounters with the stare of one of the Red Court and never had a problem shutting them out. It wasn’t even particularly difficult.

But evidently, those vampires had been noobs.

Ice blue and deep sea green swirled in my vision, and it was only at the very last instant that I realized what was happening, slamming closed the vaults of my mind, leaving only the hard, fortified places to attack, a castle of idea and memory, ready to withstand an assault.

“Stop that, please,” I said quietly a moment later. “The conversation isn’t getting anywhere like this.”

The little vampire pursed her lips, her head tilted as if she were deciding whether to be upset or amused. She went with amused. She giggled and wriggled her hips around a little. “Lovely, lovely, lovely. We are well pleased.”

“You do have options,” Esteban said. If he was put out by Esmerelda’s behavior, it didn’t show. Hell, he hadn’t even seemed to notice.

“By all means,” I said. “Enumerate them.”

“I suppose the simplest means to solve our problem would be for you to take your own life,” he said. “If you are dead, Arianna has no reason to harm your spawn.”

“Aside from the being-dead part, there are some minor problems with that idea.”

“By all means,” Esteban said, “enumerate them.”

“What confirmation would I have that the child was safe and returned to her mother? What security would I have to make me believe that Arianna might not do the same thing a month from now?”

“A contract could be drafted,” Esteban said. “Witnessed and signed, arbitrated by one of the neutral parties of the Accords. For security, we suppose we could ask our Lord if He would give his Word upon it that your mate and spawn were free of the cycle of vengeance.”

“A possibility worth consideration,” I said. “Though the part where I die seems to be something of a flaw.”

“Understandably,” Esteban said. “We might also offer you an alternative to death.”

The roll of Esmerelda’s hips became slower, more sensuous. I’ve been abused by Red Court vampires in the past. I still have nightmares sometimes. But the pretty-seeming girl atop me had that feminine mystique that defies description and definition. Being so close to her was making me nauseous, but my body was reacting to her with uncomfortable intensity.

“Alternative,” she said in a breathy little voice. “In this day, that means fashionable. And we do so love showing little mortals how to be fashionable.”

“You would make me like you,” I said quietly.

Esmerelda nodded, slowly, her mouth drawing up into a lazy, sensual smile, her hips still circling maddeningly against mine. Her fangs were showing.

“It would offer you several advantages,” Esteban said. “Even should Arianna complete the vengeance rite, the transformation of your blood would insulate you against it. And, of course, you would not be killed, captured, or tortured to death, as the White Council will be over the next six months or so.”