"You don't look so good," Dreads said, helping Dory back to her feet.
At least, that's what she thought he said. It was a little hard to tell, since his voice sounded both near and far away at the same time. Like the corridor that was telescoping in and out and in and out and --
She was so screwed.
She grabbed the stair railing and hung on for dear life, while Dreads talked some more.
She wasn't really listening, finding it a little hard to concentrate with what felt like half her skull caved in, but she didn't need to. There was only one thing that a sane person would be telling her right now, only one thing she ought to be doing, because this wasn't a fight she could win.
And dying here wasn't going to help anybody.
But something else might, she thought, as Dreads bent over to pick up his stash, some of which had dropped from his coat when she crashed into him.
Including a familiar little bottle of small, white pills.
They were the ones she'd picked up in the bokor's shop, and given to Dreads when she sent him to warn the senate. She hadn't known the whole damned bunch was here, but they had a regional office in New Orleans, and he was supposed to go there with the evidence if the phone call didn't work. And he had, which is where she'd found him, kicking his heels and waiting for someone to talk to because everyone was here.
And now so were the pills.
She grabbed them with shaking hands, trying to get the cap off while watching the door that Marlowe had just disappeared through.
"You said these take a couple hours to work," she interrupted Dreads, who was still talking. "Is there any way to speed it up?"
"Speed it up?"
"Yes, speed it up!" Dory said, still fighting with the cap because her hands didn't seem to work right. "Is there any way to make it take effect faster?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, it's not recommended --"
"How?"
"Okay, so there was this guy. He came into the shop one day --"
"The short version!" Dory said, finally managing to pop the cap off.
Dreads blinked. "You take more of them."
"How many?"
"Depends on how fast you want 'em to work. They're not like human drugs; they don't got to work their way through your system, you know? They're a key that opens up your magic so the spell can tell it where to go. But having most of your magic drain into one thing all at once is kind of . . . unfun . . . so the pills have time release bits in 'em to stretch it out. Some go to work as soon as you take 'em, but others --
"So if I take more pills, I'll get more of the bits that trigger immediately," Dory summed up.
"Yeah. But like I said, that's not rec -- what are you doing?" he demanded, when she poured the entire contents of the bottle into her palm.
"Taking all of them."
He grabbed her wrist. "All of them? You got a death wish?"
"No. But I need a boost and I need it now --"
"Well, get it some other way!"
"There is no other way!"
"Listen to me!" he said holding on for dear life. "Responsible drug use, okay? A pill tells your magic to reroute to one place. But that's most of your magic not all of your magic, 'cause you're a magical creature and you need some of it to live. Too many pills and you reroute too much and nothing's gonna work right, if at all."
Dory paused. Man had a point. "How many can I safely take, than?"
He waved his free hand around. "How should I know? People don't do this!"
"Guess!"
"No more than five." He watched her pour most of the pills back in the bottle, and swallow his best guess dosage. But he didn't look happy. "I don't even know if they'll work right on you. We don't get dhampirs --"
"They won't work unless you say the incantation. So say it."
"I . . . what?"
"The spell! That activates the pills."
"You want me to do it?"
"Who else?" Dory said, her voice a little shrill, because she was suddenly feeling . . . really weird. "I'm not a mage!"
"Well, neither am I. I'm mean I am, you know, technically, but --"
She grabbed him. "Say. The. Spell."
"And if I mess it up?" he stared at her, a little wall-eyed. "With that much stuff in you, who knows what might --"
"You're not going to mess it up. You fought zombies today. And a crazed dhampir. And eluded a crap ton of master vamps, some of them Hounds. You can do this!"
He stared at her for what felt like a year, but was probably only a couple seconds. And then he wet his lips. "So what do you want? I mean, where you want your magic to-shit!"
That last was in response to Marlowe, who had just barreled out of the room, heading straight for the stairs.