"Powers? I've got powers, now?" Rourke was dubious as well as slightly irritated. The 'taint,' as he thought of it, had crept into his life a little more every day, bit by bit, since he had drunk that tiny bit of Wilhelmina's blood. He was not completely turned yet, he thought. No, not by a long shot, but it had done things to him he hadn't expected, just as Her Nadir Majesty's blood had both healed an otherwise mortal wound, and altered him in odd and unforeseeable ways earlier on. That impact with the stone wall of the crypt in that battle with May Li, now. That should have killed a normal human, but he escaped with little more than bruises, and those had healed up disturbingly quickly. And the fact that Mina seemed to be able to translocate him and a paladin with little or no difficaulty. He supposed those could count as powers, but it still seemed pretty thin.
"I 'aven't been throwin' around power," he said. "Why don't they go after somebody loike May Li or 'andthorpe? Make a positive differ'nce in the world, instead o' goin' after people on their own soide! Well, let the bloody turncoats come, if they think they're 'ard enough!" He had a thought, just then. "trans-low=kay-shun, ah? Huh." He looked at Mina, and Mina looked back at him like a cross between a cat and a saint bernard (but with a vampire bat's bizarre face, of course). "Mina Dear one, kin you track sommat through the ...the... whatever it is you trans-low-kate through?"
There followed, to the others' ears, save possibly those of Talbot and Thomas, a series of squeaks, high-pitched yowls, growls, and more shrieks, most of them low enough to be painless or even inaudible (ah, there's another damned power, I guess, Rourke thought, when it became obvious that the others couldn't hear some squeaks that were perfectly audible to him), but there were a few that were ear-piercing, especially to Rourke. What the vampire bat had actually said was something along the lines of "It's called the sub-aether, Sir Rourke, and yes, I can, to a degree. I do it for My Lady when I track you."
"Could you pick up the trail o' those monks?" It had to be somewhat odd for everyone else to see and hear him talking back-and-forth to the bat, he thought suddenly. Damn, I suppose that's another flaming power...
"Perhaps, if I could get a whiff of what they smell like." her head cocked to one sid, and though the voice was still one of squeaks and yowls and growls and shrieks, it was still obvious that Wilhelmina was now the one speaking. "You could do some of that yourself, Han Dear, if you would just be a good boy and drink your blood the way you should."
"Rourke winced, like a schoolboy reminded to drink his buttermilk. "Please, not in front o' th' t'others, Mum," he said underhis breath. "Now," he said in a louder, more audible voice, "if only we could get a trackable whiff of Lux Monk..."