Hunt the Moon : Cassandra Palmer #5 by Karen Chance Read Free Book Online Page A

senators had gathered for some kind of meeting prior to the coronation. But as formidable as his diplomatic skills were, there was no doubt that he was up against it. The senates had had centuries to plot and scheme and piss one another off, and they’d apparently done a pretty good job of it.
    And nobody holds a grudge like a master vamp.
    Add to that the ongoing war and now the coronation that was scheduled to be held at his estate, and it would have been enough to give anyone a headache. I didn’t want to add to his problems. And what he asked was easy enough.
    It wasn’t like I’d be safer anyplace else.
    “I’ll stay put,” I promised.
    “Good. Then I shall see you tomorrow night.”
    “Tomorrow? I thought you wouldn’t be back for a week.”
    “That was my intention, but . . . I have obtained the information you requested.” For a moment, it didn’t register, because I couldn’t recall asking Mircea about anything. Except—
    I suddenly sat up.
    And just as suddenly regretted it. I gasped and Marco cursed. “Hold still!” he told me, pushing me back down. That was okay, because it gave me a chance to get my face under control.
    “About our date,” Mircea’s voice clarified unnecessarily.
    “Oh. Right.” My voice sounded normal enough, but I felt my palm start to sweat where I clutched the phone. Because what I’d asked him for wasn’t the usual dinner and a movie. I hadn’t really thought he’d be able to pull it off—or that he’d be willing, for that matter. But Mircea never ceased to surprise.
    I wanted details, wanted specifics, but I couldn’t ask for them. Not with Pritkin’s eyes on me from across the room. If he knew what I planned, I had no doubt at all that he’d try to stop me. And while that would probably be the smart thing, it wasn’t the right thing. Not this time.
    “What should I wear?” I asked, hoping that was safe.
    “Classic formal attire.”
    “Okay. I look forward to it,” I told him, and rang off.
    Marco finished his little torture session a moment later and bandaged me up. I cautiously moved into a sitting position, and it still wasn’t fun. But I was too distracted to really notice.
    “We’ll get you one of them little doughnut things,” he told me, as Pritkin walked over. And, shit, his eyes were narrowed.
    “So if it wasn’t a ghost and it wasn’t a demon, what was it?” I asked, to forestall any inconvenient questions.
    To my surprise, it worked. “I have a theory, but I would prefer some confirmation.”
    “What theory?”
    “Do you remember how we defeated it?” he asked, as I tucked the sheet around me and slid to the floor.
    “I remember you threw something at me.”
    “It was half of a nunchuck. I’ve been intending to get the chain re-soldered, but haven’t had time.”
    “Half a nunchuck?” I frowned. “Why would you give me that?” It wasn’t like I could bash a spirit over the head with it.
    Green eyes met mine, and they were serious enough to stop me. “Because it was the only thing I had within reach that was made of cold iron.”

Chapter Four
     
    I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must have. Because the next thing I knew, I woke up to a dark, quiet room and hot, tangled sheets. My head was throbbing, my mouth was bone dry and for one brief, panic-stricken moment, I thought I was possessed again. Because nothing seemed to work.
    I finally realized that I was just really, really sore. It looked like Marco’s little pills had worn off, except for a thickheaded feeling that made me have to try three times to turn on the light. It didn’t help that the room was like an oven. The suite was supposed to be temperature controlled, but there was obviously something seriously wrong.
    After a minute sweating in already damp sheets, I gave up on sleep and rolled out of bed. I threw on a worn-out tank top that had been purple but was now a soft mauve and a pair of loose, old track shorts. Then I staggered out the door in search