“He’s not usually invisible,” Baz mutters.

  “A vampire, two mages, and a Bleeder.” Lamb sighs and stands up. Every one of us flinches. “I’m going to need a cup of tea.”

  “Oh, thank magic,” Penelope says at the same time as Simon says, “Tea?” and Baz says, “Crowley below, please let us have some.”

  I always accept food and drink from Maybes, though it can be a risky business. (My mother would be horrified if I ever turned down food as a guest in someone else’s home.) But I’m surprised to see this bunch being so polite. I turn to Penelope, sitting next to me on an antique loveseat. “You’re not worried about being poisoned? Or scalded?”

  “I’ll worry after I have my tea,” she replies.

  Lamb brings out a tray. Simon gets a plastic casino mug. The rest of us get china.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Lamb says, pouring Penelope’s tea, “and I can’t come up with a single reason to help you. Or even to keep listening.”

  “Common decency,” Penelope suggests—and the vampire actually laughs. His whole face crinkles up when he does.

  “We’d be in your debt,” Baz adds.

  Simon scoffs. “We would not!”

  “You’re already in my debt,” Lamb says. “You’re still alive.”

  “We could say the same of you,” Penelope counters.

  The vampire chuckles. “You’re really quite funny,” he says to her. “I know you don’t mean to be.”

  I hold out my still-empty cup, leaning a bit in front of her. “The reason to help them,” I say, “is that you share an enemy.”

  Lamb looks at me and starts to pour. He’s listening.

  I nod toward Penelope and Baz and (probably) Simon. “They’re not stupid. They know they don’t stand much of a chance against the Next Blood, even if you help them. But they’re going to try anyway. And I promise you this—they won’t go down without a fight.”

  I sit back with my teacup. “These Silicon Valley vampires have never tangled with Speakers before. They don’t know what it’s like to be hunted and cornered with wands. They’ve never taken significant losses. Well … they’ll learn. Even our worst-case scenario benefits you—we’ll cause chaos for the Next Blood, we’ll get in their way.”

  Lamb is sitting again, next to Baz. He narrows his eyes at me. “How do you know that I consider the Next Blood an enemy?”

  “Everyone knows that Las Vegas is at war with the Next Blood,” I say. “And you’re the king of Las Vegas.”

  * * *

  “The Vampire King?!” Penelope shouts at me, as soon as we’re in the elevator. “When were you going to tell us he was the fucking Vampire King?”

  “I wasn’t sure!” I really wasn’t—not till I said it out loud, and Lamb smiled and bared his fangs at me.

  “You needed to be sure? ‘I think he might be the Vampire King,’ you could have said to us. Or, ‘Hey, guys, did you know there’s a Vampire King? There is! And this could be him!’”

  “I’d only heard him described once,” I say, “and it was from a drunken ditch imp.”

  “What was the description?” she asks.

  “Baby-faced and beautiful, and slick as oil on ice.”

  Simon huffs. Penelope punches me hard. “That’s obviously him, Shepard! For snake’s sake!”

  The elevator doors open.

  “We get our things, and we go,” she says. “Shepard, you get the truck. We’ll meet you out front.”

  Baz is frowning. “But Lamb might yet help us—”

  Penelope looks ready to punch him next. “The jig is up, Baz! We can’t sleep under the Vampire King’s roof! Especially now that he knows what we are.”

  “He doesn’t know what I am,” Simon gloats.

  “A foolhardy oaf?” Baz says. “I think he got that, actually.”

  “You wouldn’t call me that if I’d rescued you!”

  “I didn’t need rescuing!” Baz hisses. “I was getting to him. He was listening.”

  “More like you were listening,” Simon says. “While he told you a bunch of fairy tales about vampires saving princesses and slaying dragons.”

  “For the last time, Simon Snow, only a depraved savage would slay a dragon!”

  “I wasn’t trying to kill it!”

  We turn a corner—our room is just up ahead. “Five minutes,” Penelope says, typing something into her phone. “Get your stuff and get out.”

  Baz and I stop walking.

  “Guys,” she says, getting ahead of us. “Come on.”

  “Penelope,” I say quietly. She finally looks up and sees the two people standing at our door: a man and a woman, both wearing very expensive suits.

  54

  PENELOPE

  The woman, grey and graceful—I’m getting very good at spotting vampires—opens the door to our hotel room. “After you.”

  “We were just getting our things,” I say.

  “After. You.”

  They follow us into the room. I’d set them both on fire right now if I didn’t think this entire hotel would go up in flames. “There’s no need to see us out,” I say, with as much imperiousness as I can muster. “We’re actually in a bit of a hurry.”

  “Have a seat,” she says, motioning towards the bed.

  Shepard and Baz sit. I can feel Simon hovering beside me. “What is this?” I demand. “We weren’t planning to make trouble, but you can tell your king that we won’t be threatened!”

  “I’m not a king, you know. It’s an elected position.” Lamb is leaning in the doorway. “There’s a council, term limits. A system of checks and balances…”

  “Lamb—” Baz stands up. “You changed your mind.”

  The vampire looks at Baz for a second, then steps into the room, walking towards him. “I just needed a few moments to myself to consider the possibilities. Your Bleeder has a point, I think: This is a rare opportunity.”

  He says all this to Baz. Like the rest of us don’t rate eye contact. Baz, fool that he is, looks hopeful. “So you’ll help us?”

  Lamb nods, stopping just in front of Baz. “And you will help us.”

  I wonder how Simon is coping with this conversation. I consider casting a paralysis spell on him, just in case he isn’t coping well—but he might drop out of the air and injure himself.

  Lamb turns his head towards Shepard and me, but his eyes stay on Baz. “I’m not a king. This city is bigger than me—I’m just its most dedicated public servant. But the Next Blood … they have a king. They can’t function without him. I don’t know where your missing friend is, but you can be sure that Braden Bodmer does. He’s the one snatching up spare Speakers and taking them apart to see how they tick.”

  Simon, somewhere beside Lamb, growls.

  Lamb turns to the empty space. “You’re going to help me kill him.”

  * * *

  Well, at least there’s a plan.

  The Vampire King sits in one of the leather chairs, his two well-dressed friends flanking him now, and lays it out for us:

  Apparently the Next Blood’s headquarters (does every vampire cult have headquarters? How many American towns are vampire citadels?) are in San Diego. But they have a facility near Reno.

  According to Lamb’s intelligence (there are vampire double agents), all the NowNext leaders will be there this weekend; they’re having some kind of ceremony. “We’ll go in as quietly as we can,” he says. “Under the radar. But if we can’t go quiet, we go loud. The Bleeder—”

  “Shepard,” Shepard interrupts.

  Lamb pauses to smile at him, like he’s making a note to eat him later. “Shepard was correct: The Next Blood aren’t fighters. They’re scientists and software engineers. Chaos may very well work in our favour.”

  Well, there’s Simon accounted for.

  Merciful Morgana—Lamb’s face when my spell finally wears off, and Simon appears out of thin air. Lamb is done talking, and he and his minions are leaving to get their own team in order, when pop, there’s Simon, glowering, between them and the door.

  Lamb takes in Simon’s wings and tail, then turns to Baz and shakes his head. “Not just a magician, Baz, but a disfigured magician.”

  As soon as they’re out the door, Simon throws a lamp at it. “Fuck this!”

  Baz sets a pile of clothes on the bed and starts folding a dress shirt.

  Simon puts his hands on his hips. “Well, we’re not going with him.”

  “Of course we’re going with him,” Baz says.

  “We are not getting into a car with a vampire so he can lead us into a vampire nest!” Simon shouts.

  Baz throws the shirt onto the bed and shouts back: “Isn’t that why we came here?! Isn’t that precisely what we asked him to do?!”

  “We came here to find Agatha!”

  “He’s taking us to Agatha!”

  “Is he?” Simon’s standing directly across the bed from Baz. “Or is he going to dump us in the desert wearing cement shoes?”

  “That doesn’t even make sense. Why would they put cement on our feet in the desert?”

  “You know what I mean!”

  “Lamb isn’t going to hurt us!”

  “How do you know?!”

  “Because I trust him!”

  Simon looks like he was ready to shout some more, but now he doesn’t know what to say. He takes a step back. “You trust him.”

  Baz nods. “I do. I don’t—I don’t think Lamb would lie to me.”

  Simon clenches his jaw. If he still had magic, I’d be sheltering in place. “Oh, really. Well, it’s a good thing he doesn’t know what—”

  “I wouldn’t assume we have privacy,” Shepard cuts in. “Under this roof.”

  He’s right. This is Lamb’s hotel. Lamb’s city. I’ve scanned the room for bugs, but not recently.

  Simon is boiling with rage.

  Baz is simmering. He deliberately picks up his shirt again. “Fine. We don’t have to accept his help. We can head off on our own, without any clues or direction. I’m sure Agatha can wait.”

  “No,” I say. “Baz is right, this is our only lead. If Lamb wanted us dead, he’d just kill us here. Or try.” I raise my voice for the benefit of anyone who might be listening: “We can hold our own in a fight.”

  Baz looks at the Normal. “You should leave now, Shepard. There’s no reason for you to endanger yourself further.”

  “I can think of plenty,” Shepard says. “You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

  Baz turns to Simon. “Well, Snow?”

  Simon knocks over the remaining lamp. Then scrubs his fingers through his hair. “If you really think he’s taking us to Agatha, I’ll go. But I’m not killing some rival gang leader for him.”

  “Right,” Baz says, “because of your moral objection to slaying vampires.”

  Simon just huffs.

  Lamb told us to be ready to leave when he calls for us. Baz finishes packing, I’m not sure why—we aren’t taking luggage on the rescue mission. I change into my old clothes, so I can think. Then I lie on the bed, making a mental list of spells to kill vampires. When Lamb’s “people” come for us, I’m up to sixty-three.

  BAZ

  I don’t know why I trust Lamb.

  Maybe because he hasn’t lied to me yet.

  And because, when he looks at me, I swear I can feel him looking out for me. It could just be that I’m one of his charges. If he’s the king, or the mayor, or what have you, that’s his job, right? Protecting the interests of his people? I’m one of his people. Or what have you.

  I’m sure Snow would love to hear this theory. “I trust him because of our vampire kinship.” Though that’s better than, “I trust him because of the way he looks at me.”

  Simon won’t look at me. He’s on the bed with Penny, still wearing his filthy shoes, probably thinking about how much he hates me.

  I thought we might come to blows just now; the energy felt so like it had when we were still at Watford, screaming at each other over our school beds. (Though there’s no Roommate’s Anathema to keep us from killing each other here.)

  Those fights used to feel so good. It meant getting to look at Snow. Getting his attention. Having a place to hurl all my feelings for him, even if they came out spiked and razor sharp.

  Fighting doesn’t feel good anymore. It feels like breaking something because you don’t know how to fix it.

  I tidy my things, and wash my face. I think about changing into something less wrinkled, but we’re just piling into another car.

  Now isn’t the time to be heartbroken. We don’t know what we’re driving into tonight, but it’s surely a battle.

  SIMON

  Right, right, right. So we’re just trusting vampires now, is that how it is?

  Just telling vampires all our secrets, and then waiting for them to do the right thing? Where I come from, you don’t tell vampires secrets! You don’t negotiate with them. You bloody well don’t let them drive!

  The Mage used to say—

  I mean, I reckon the Mage did negotiate with vampires—but that’s what made him corrupt! It’s one of the major ways he proved corrupt in the end!

  Vampires are banned. They’re actually forbidden. It’s the law. They’re like pithbulls or adders, simply not allowed in the World of Mages. Because you can’t trust them not to murder you!

  And, yes, I get that Baz is a vampire. I appreciate the irony. But he hates vampires more than anyone! Which is the only reason you can trust him!

  I mean, not the only reason.

  I’m just saying—

  I’ll be damned if I—

  The king of the vampires! We’re trusting the king of the vampires? Because he asked us to? Because he asked us nicely with his pretty blue suit and his pretty blue eyes.…

  I’ll be good goddamned.

  We don’t need his help to save Agatha. I’ve saved Agatha literally dozens of times without asking any vampires for help. (I mean, Baz pitched in once or twice.) (He complained the whole time.)

  Bloody—

  Vampires!

  I mean, we’ve been here thirty-six hours, and now we’re Team Vampire? Maybe we should summon a few demons and get their help, too.

  I have rescued bloody everyone I know, including Baz, again and again, and I never teamed up with the enemy to do it. (Unless you count Baz. There, at the end. I mean…)

  This isn’t how you rescue someone!

  We’ve been here thirty-six hours, and apparently Baz doesn’t hate vampires anymore. Now, apparently, he trusts some. At least one, apparently. “King” of the vampires—does that include Baz now? Is that what he is? A loyal subject?

  You can’t just trust the first handsome vampire you meet!

  I mean …

  This isn’t how we do this.

  This isn’t how it’s done.

  I’ll be damned if I follow a vampire into the desert!

  I mean …

  PENELOPE

  We leave after dark. Lamb tries to split us between two rugged-looking four-by-fours, but Simon and I refuse to be separated. Me, quietly. Simon, less so.

  Simon doesn’t want to get in any of the cars. He wants to ride above us, like a winged escort. Lamb won’t have it. “I said ‘under the radar,’ mage. Not literally through it.”

  Finally, to accommodate us, Lamb borrows an even larger vehicle from one of the other sharply dressed vampires. Baz shoves Simon into the back seat and climbs in after him. Shepard volunteers to ride up front with Lamb. I take the middle row.

  It’s startling when you leave Las Vegas, the transition from bright lights to black sky.

  We’ll get to the NowNext facility around dawn, Lamb says. I’m trying to visualize it. “If we’re sneaking up on their facility, wouldn’t we have better luck at night?”

  “They would have an advantage at night,” Lamb says. “Enhanced senses.”

  “But wouldn’t your lot have that same advantage?”

  Lamb is dismissive. “My friends and I have kept ourselves alive through centuries of daylight—we’ll be fine. Besides, we’re trying to tip the scales in your favour, young mage. You’re the ones leading the charge.”

  “Why are we leading the charge?” Simon demands. (If we weren’t leading the charge, he’d demand to know why not.)

  “Because you have magic wands,” Lamb snaps.

  We’ve already been through this, back in the hotel room:

  The Vampire King is offering us intelligence and support. There’s a fleet of four-by-fours following us into the desert. At least fifty vampires. They’ll deliver us to NowNext’s back door. But Lamb says we’ll have to use magic to break into the facility and make the first strike. “If we could have quashed the Next Blood with brute force, we would have done so already.”

  “Tell us more about the building,” Simon says. “What sort of defences do they have? Is it a home? A barracks?”

  Lamb keeps his eyes on the road. “It’s a laboratory.”

  BAZ

  All right. Well. We knew it was bad.

  That doesn’t affect our odds. If anything, it helps. Better a lab than a fortress.

  I’ve got spells ready. For getting in and staying low. “Open sesame.” “Little pig, little pig.” “Now you see it, now you don’t.”

  I know Lamb expects us to fight these other vampires, and I’d like to—I’d like to end them—but Snow’s right: The only thing we have to do is find Agatha. I’ve got spells for that, too. “Show me the way.” “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” … (That’s what Fiona used when the numpties had me.)

  I may not be a very good vampire, but I’m an excellent magician. First in our class. And Bunce would have been first in our class had she stayed in school. And Simon, even a powered-down Simon, is no one you’d want to meet in a dark alley. Or a bright hallway.

  I believe we can do this. I believe Lamb believes we can do this. Why would he bring a small army of his own vampires if he didn’t think this was a fight we could win?

  “So we sneak in first…” I say. I’m in the back seat, so I have to shout to be heard over the air-con.