Touch The Dark

Chapter 13

I tried to think of another question quickly, but it was difficult, especially when his hands clasped my buttocks and he lifted me upward. His tongue finally reached its goal and I gasped. He ran it over me slowly, exploring my shape, memorizing my taste, before suddenly plunging inside as far as it would go. I screamed and arched against him, helpless to do anything else, and he drank me in. I felt the beginnings of something building in me, something huge, but before it completely tore my senses away, Mircea lifted himself away.

I wanted to scream in frustration, but his lips sealed over mine and I forgot. I ran my hands along that silken skin, tracing down his spine, past his ribs to the cleft between those beautiful buttocks. He shuddered over me, and the feeling of him firm and hot against my stomach was almost overpowering. I wanted him inside me more than I had ever wanted anything, with an almost unbearable need. But when I felt a hard, hot weight settle between my legs, I pushed at his chest. "No, Mircea—you promised."

He laughed low in his throat, and kissed my neck. "I will be good, dulceaţă." Before I could say that that was what was worrying me, he dragged that heavy weight along the full length of my sex, not penetrating, but coming teasingly close. I was wet and aching for him, and I didn't think it was funny. I decided that a little repayment was in order.

I slipped a hand between our bodies and grabbed him. He was thick enough that my grip could not close, but it definitely got his attention. I squeezed, marveling at how incredibly soft his skin was, and his eyes rolled back in his head. It felt odd to hold him, so hot and so velvety to the touch, and it made me feel powerful. I remembered what the woman in my vision had done to Louis-César's body and tried my best to imitate it. A few strokes and the mighty Mircea gave a small, half-strangled scream and trembled against me. I thought for a second that I had hurt him, but if anything he only grew bigger in my hand. I grinned into his startled face and, remembering what it had done to the Frenchman's body, ran a finger across the little slit on the head. He screamed for real this time and stared at me with wide eyes.

"Cassie, where" — he stopped and licked his lips—"where did you learn to do that?"

I laughed. This had possibilities. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I pushed at his shoulder. "Lie down."

He rolled over without question and I followed, keeping my grip but careful not to hurt him, recalling how sensitive this flesh was. I let my hand explore him as his tongue had done to me, and found his body fascinating. I'd seen many men nude, but this was my first chance to touch one so intimately, and the fact that it was Mircea was sending my blood pressure skyrocketing.

I found that the skin on his balls was the softest yet, and ran my fingers gently over it until he was groaning and thrashing beneath me. I liked doing this to him, seeing him this defenseless, his usually perfect hair tangling as sweat began to mold it to his head. It was exciting to make him spread his legs wider, exposing him to whatever I might decide to do. His helplessness was intoxicating, and it made me daring. My repertoire wasn't exactly extensive, but I have a good memory, and the Frenchwoman had been about to try something with Louis-César that sounded interesting.

I crawled between Mircea's legs, running my hands along the taut muscles. He reached for me but I pushed his hands away. "Stop it."

He subsided, but the surprise in his eyes told me that he wasn't used to being ordered around. I grabbed the length of him again as it bobbed about enticingly in front of me. He closed his eyes once more at my touch, a raw, vulnerable expression stealing over his face. I stroked him slowly, not understanding the look of pain since I knew I wasn't hurting him. "Cassie…" His voice broke and I shushed him. I moved closer and slowly, carefully, licked the straining shaft. It tasted good, slightly salty with an underlying smoky flavor. I liked his scent, too, which was stronger here and faintly musky. The combined sensory overload was heady. I didn't have any experience to guide me, but I decided to start at the tip and work my way down. It sounded like a good plan, but my tongue had barely touched him when Mircea bucked hard, causing me to lose my grip.

"Cassie, don't! I can't control myself if you—"

"I said be quiet," I told him crossly. I needed to focus and it would help if he stayed still and shut up. I told him as much and watched his face fill with astonishment.

"I was assured you had not done this before," he began, struggling up onto his elbows.

I gave him a warning look. "I haven't. So if you don't stay still, don't blame me if you get hurt."

He collapsed back on the bed and flung an arm over his face. He muttered something in Romanian and I ignored him. He knew I didn't speak it, and was just being difficult. If I hadn't been enjoying his body so much, I might have complained. As it was, I returned to the enthralling study of what made him moan. When I slid my lips and tongue along him this time, he stayed much quieter, except for a slight shudder that he might not have been able to help. I found that I liked licking the tip most, although the taste there was a little bitter. But it was worth it to see him struggle not to move or cry out under my touch, his hands balling into fists at his sides. I decided to see what it would take for the great Mircea to completely lose control.

I accidentally grazed his skin with my teeth when I took more of him into my mouth, and the sensation wrung a startled cry from him. After figuring out that it had been a sound of approval, I started interspersing regular nips between the licks, and he was soon whimpering faintly, as if he wasn't even aware he was doing it. A few minutes later, I found his true weakness when I moved lower to lick the downy skin over his balls. He must have been extra sensitive there, or maybe the pressure had been building for a while. Before I realized what was happening, he had grabbed my hips and positioned me above him, so that he was once more pressed against my entrance. It felt so incredibly good, so very right, that I almost let our bodies meld together. But some part of my brain spoke up, reminding me of the price, and I pulled back.

I moved too quickly and ended up falling awkwardly off the bed. A second later, Mircea's flushed face peered over the edge of the mattress, looking at me in bewilderment as I sprawled on the rug. I grabbed at my robe, and his eyes darkened. "I will personally shred that offensive garment so it will never hide your beauty again."

His voice was hoarse and the look in his eyes was wild. I didn't waste the time needed to put the robe on but wrapped it around me like a blanket. It was a poor substitute for the warmth of his skin, but it was a lot easier to think with some clothes on. My breathing wasn't too steady and I almost felt dizzy with need for him, but I backed away until the window stopped me. "We had a deal, Mircea," I told him shakily.

He sat up, which was a serious distraction considering that his arousal had not flagged in the slightest. He winced but kept his burning eyes on mine. They were more cinnamon than amber now, a blazing, beautiful reddish light. It was almost as dark as the color that had practically made Pritkin faint; it made me want to run back and throw myself at him. I gripped the window ledge behind me for support and felt its wards sizzle. They were cool compared to the heat of my skin at the moment.

Mircea ran a hand over his face, and it was shaking. He looked up at me with desperate eyes. "Cassie, please do not do this. I have explained the situation—you know what is at stake. I want to make this pleasurable for you, not to have you hate me because of it. But this must be done. You are not like that ridiculous mage who understands nothing of us. Please do not make this complicated. It could be beautiful."

"And if I say no?" Mircea was suddenly very still. The room shimmered with barely controlled power, the way heat waves do over desert sand. "You wouldn't force me?"

Mircea swallowed and looked very intensely at the rug for a full minute. When he finally looked up, his eyes had returned to their usual rich brown. "Let there be total honesty between us, dulceaţă. I could invade your mind, use tricks to overcome your reason, and force you to give yourself to me as I know you wish to do. But if I did this, you would never trust me again. I know you too well; I know how you view disloyalty. It is the one thing you cannot forgive, and I do not want you to see me as an enemy."

"Then I can leave?" I knew the answer but needed him to explain my options.

"You know better than that." Mircea sighed and his face suddenly looked tired. "If we do not do this, the Consul will simply appoint another. I know you have feelings of some kind for Tomas, but I also know how upset you are with him. He betrayed your trust, and although it was done under orders he could not disobey, I do not think you have forgiven him for that."

I hugged myself. "No." There was a time when I'd trusted Tomas, at least as much as I did anyone, lusted after him, and maybe even loved him a little. But that had been the man in my imagination, not the real thing. I felt now like I saw a stranger when I looked at him. I didn't want those hands on me. Besides, he had invaded my mind once on Senate orders. If commanded, I had no doubts he would do it again.

"Then Louis-César, perhaps? He is handsome. Would you prefer him?" Mircea sounded a little strangled, and I think for some reason he liked that idea even less than me being with Tomas. Perhaps because the Frenchman was a full Senate member, with equal status. Did he think I'd fall head over heels for the first guy I had sex with, and run off to Europe? If so, he didn't know me as well as he thought.

"No." I didn't want a man I barely knew, whose touch had sent me into a nightmare twice already, anywhere near me.

"Then perhaps Raphael? He looks on you as a daughter, as you know, but he would do this for you, if you prefer." I shook my head. I wouldn't put Raphael or myself through that. I wouldn't be with someone who would look on the whole thing as a chore to be endured. Mircea spread his hands. "That was my assumption as well. So you see where we are. If you turn all of us down, the Consul will appoint one of her servants to deal with the matter, and that I do not think you would enjoy. There are no other alternatives. Your abilities are too important. The power cannot be allowed to pass to someone else simply because I have not had time to court you properly."

I arched an eyebrow at him. "And what do you get out of it, Mircea? Just security? Or did the Consul agree to honor your claim if this goes well? Do you want to use me, too?"

Mircea let out a long sigh. "No one controls the Pythia, Cassie. If the power does come to you, I will not be able to hold you. I always knew that."

"Then why shield me all these years? Why do it now?" Mircea was right; I did know how vamp politics worked. He had spent a lot of time and energy protecting me, and I doubted it was simply to obtain a clairvoyant for his court.

Especially not if, once I became Pythia, he would lose control of my gift. There was more going on here than he had told me.

He did not look happy, but he answered. His usual, laughing mask had gone, replaced by a stark, pain-filled expression. "You understand what it is to lose family, dulceaţă. So perhaps you can appreciate what it means to me that only Radu remains of all my kin, and he… I told you what was done to him."

"Yes."

"What I did not tell you, for I rarely speak of it and you were only a child, is that he suffers still. Every night when he wakens, it is as if it were all being done anew. They broke him, dulceaţă, in mind, body and spirit. Even now, hundreds of years after his torturers are dead, he cries out in agony at their whips and brands. Every night, a thousand torments are revisited on him, again and again." Mircea's eyes were suddenly old and terribly sad; they told me that it had not been only Radu who had suffered. "I have thought of killing him many times to spare him, but I cannot. He is all I have. But I no longer believe that one night he will awaken from his nightmare."

"I'm sorry, Mircea." I resisted the impulse to go to him, to stroke his messy hair and comfort him. It was too soon for that. Years of experience had taught me to find out the whole story before offering sympathy. "But I don't see what this has to do with me."

"You are going to Carcassonne."

It took a moment for me to make the connection, and even then it didn't make sense. "You freed Radu from the Bastille."

"In 1769, yes. But a century earlier, he was not there. He was held and tortured for many years at Carcassonne." He said the name as if it was an invective, which to him it probably was. "Do you know the Pythia's alternate title, Cassie?" I numbly shook my head. "She is called the Guardian of Time. You are my best chance, my only chance. But if the Pythia dies and you lose your borrowed power because you were not yet a fit vessel to hold it, I will lose the only window on time I have ever found."

Things clarified. "The Consul promised you a chance to help Radu. That is your payment for having me solve their little problem."

He inclined his head. "She agreed to allow me to make up the third of our group. I will be going with you when next you shift. While you and Tomas stop the attempt on Louis-César, I will rescue my brother." Mircea's eyes were somber but utterly serious. I knew in that minute that, while he might not force me himself, he would stand aside and watch someone else do it. He might not like it, but he would like even less leaving Radu to his fate. I wanted to hate him for it, but I couldn't. It was part pity—I couldn't imagine what it had been like, caring for someone for hundreds of years who was dangerously insane, watching him torment himself day after day and being able to do absolutely nothing about it. But it was more that: despite having every reason to do so, Mircea had not lied. He was right; I could forgive almost anything but that.

"How do you know we're even going back there again?" If he was going to be honest with me, the least I could do was to return the favor. "I don't have the same apprehension or fear or whatever it was around Louis-César anymore. And when he carried me away from Dante's, nothing happened. For all I know the power has already passed, or it might choose to take me somewhere else."

"We believe that Rasputin will try for him that night, the one you have visited twice now, because it was then that Louis-César was changed. You did not know that my brother made him, did you?"

"I thought Tomas said he was cursed."

Mircea shook his head. "I do not know where he heard that, Cassie. Perhaps he believes it because Louis-César did not know what it was to have a master. Like me, he had to make his own way with little guidance. Because my brother was imprisoned, Louis-César's birth was not recorded until long after the fact. By the time any other master knew of his existence and might have tried to claim him, he was too powerful. Radu bit him for the first time the night you were there, after the jailers left them alone together in an attempt to terrorize our Frenchman. Radu called him back the two nights afterwards until he changed. Perhaps he was trying to gain a servant who could release him."

"So why didn't he?"

Mircea looked at me with some surprise. "You do not know who Louis-César was?"

I shook my head, and he smiled slightly. "I will leave him to tell you the story. Suffice it to say, he was not free to move about for a long time, and by the time he was, Radu had been moved and he could not find him. In any case, all Rasputin would have to do to eliminate our Louis-César is to stake him before the third bite; kill him when he is yet human and helpless and he will never have to fight him."

"He could kill him in his cradle even easier, or when he was a kid. You don't know it'll be then."

Mircea shook his head emphatically. "We believe that your gift has been showing you where the problem lies, where someone is attempting to alter the time line. Why else would you keep going back there? In any case, the records on Louis-César's early life are scant. The first time Rasputin can be sure where to find him is when he changed. It is on record, along with the peculiar circumstances of his masterlessness. He won't take a chance on something so important. He will try for him where he knows he will be. I know where they held Radu, Cassie. It will be a matter of a few moments to free him."

"And can you tell me the exact date his mind gave way? A city surrounds that castle, Mircea. I won't help you turn a mad killer loose on them."

Mircea spoke quickly. "I have spoken with Louis-César. Radu was quite sane when he changed him. You can help me save him, dulceaţă. Torture for others ended soon enough with death or, rarely, exoneration. But not for him. His torturers would never free him because they did not believe he could ever be redeemed, but they would not kill him, since his suffering made such a good lesson for those they wished to frighten." The emotion in his eyes was hard to witness; desperation was too mild to describe it. "There is no way out for him! You have seen that place. Can you leave him there, knowing what his fate will be? Can you trade his life for your virtue?"

It wasn't my virtue I worried about; it was my freedom. But I knew better than to try to strike a bargain over that. There was no way the Consul wouldn't at least attempt to hold on to me. If I became Pythia, perhaps I'd be able to avoid her manipulation and that of the two circles; maybe I could even help my father. It was a hell of a long shot, but it was the best one I had. I took a deep breath and pushed away from the window, letting the robe slip from my hands as I did so.

Mircea watched me walk to him, hope dawning in his eyes. I put a hand on his shoulder, in the midst of the decadent, raw silk of his hair, and ran the other lightly down the curve of his face. "You answered my question. Don't you want your reward?"

He caught me to him and began speaking softly against my lips, words of thanks and passion intermingled. Tears fell onto my neck and breasts as he kissed, licked and nibbled his way across my upper body. He lay me back carefully onto the bed and kissed his way back to the center of that building pressure that had returned with a vengeance. Soon he had me almost crying for something larger than his tongue to ease the ache. As if reading my mind, Mircea slid a finger down to my throbbing center and eased it inside. It felt wonderful, but it wasn't nearly enough.

"Mircea!" He didn't answer, but two fingers slid inside me and I bore down on them, desperate for more of him. They eased the almost-pain and increased the pleasure until I was making a high, moaning sound and riding his hand like I so badly wanted to ride his body. The pressure inside me mounted until I thought I would faint from the delicious, burning ache of it. Then it broke and all I could concentrate on was that wonderful, breathtaking sensation that swept through me over and over. I heard myself cry out his name, then the world erupted in a flash of color and a sound like a rushing wind filled my head.

A second later, I realized it hadn't been the wind. "Um, Cassie? Look, I know this isn't a real good time and all…" I was so drunk on the afterglow that it took me a minute to recognize Billy Joe's voice.

"Billy. You have exactly one second to get out." Mircea held me while I finished my orgasm, speaking softly in Romanian. I was really going to have to break him of that.

"I would, honest, but we need to talk. Something's happening. Something bad." I groaned and pushed him out of my head. He appeared, hovering over Mircea's naked shoulder.

Mircea had rolled on top of me, supporting himself with his arms, and he carefully positioned himself. "I have prepared you as well as I can, Cassie," he told me in a rough, slightly breathless voice, "but this may hurt slightly. I am considered somewhat… larger than usual, but I will be careful." I wanted to scream at him to get on with it—my body wanted him inside and it didn't care if it hurt.

Billy glanced at Mircea's sweat-streaked face and rolled his eyes. "Please. You shoulda seen me in my prime. The countess said I had the biggest…"

"Billy!"

"… talent she'd ever seen. Anyway, he don't look that impressive to me," he said huffily.

"Shut up and get out!"

Billy ignored me and, before I could stop him, blew a freezing wind over Mircea. "Especially not now."

Mircea yelped and looked around in alarm, while I glared at Billy. "Have you lost your mind?"

For an answer, Billy blasted Mircea again. The cold didn't seem that bad to me, but then, I never feel ghosts the same way as everyone else. Mircea looked like he'd been hit with a blizzard; goose bumps covered his flesh, his damp hair actually had ice crystals in it and the result on our activities was the same as a cold shower.

Before I could explain to Billy exactly how much trouble he was in, Rafe's excited tones came from the doorway. "Master! I am sorry to disturb, but Rasputin is coming! He's almost here now!" Rafe had paused in the door and was staring hard at the floor, fairly vibrating in alarm. Tomas entered right behind him. I quickly pulled the quilt up, but he didn't so much as glance at me.

Mircea's eyes were blank and uncomprehending for a second, then he nodded. "How much time do we have?"

"I don't know." Rafe looked frantic. I'd never seen anyone actually wring their hands before, but he was doing it. "Louis-César has gone to meet him, but that Russian testa di merda has an army of weres and dark mages with him! And he has enough masters that he can try to take us in sunlight!"

Tomas nodded agreement. "The Senate is preparing a defense, but we are badly outnumbered. No one expected an attack with the duel set for tonight. I can take Cassie below. The vault should hold, for a while."

Mircea ignored Tomas' outstretched arms. He caught me up, quilt and all, and strode naked back into the living area of the suite. "Mircea." I looked up to find him grim faced and determined, and tugged on his icy hair to get his attention. "What's happening?"

Mircea glanced at me as we started towards the stairs to the Senate chamber. All around us, the iron wall sconces had turned outward, with the sharp, knifelike decorations on their bottom edges no longer pointing at the floor. I was starting to think that maybe they weren't decorations at all and hoped they knew who their friends were. "Do not worry, dulceaţă," Mircea was saying. "They will never breach the inner wards. And this changes little. If Rasputin does not defeat the Consul's champion before he attempts to take over, the other senates will declare him an outlaw. None of this will profit him."

"That doesn't make me feel much better, considering that we'll all be dead before the other senates can catch up with him."

"Hurry!" Tomas flung open the heavy door to the stairs as a blast came faintly from somewhere outside. "They've breached the outer defenses." Several men and a woman rushed past us, toward the sound of the explosion. They had on enough hardware to make Pritkin look underdressed. I felt their power as they passed—war mages. Well, that should buy some time.

"I assure you that will not happen, Cassie. I will protect you."

I didn't answer. Mircea would try—I didn't doubt that—but Rasputin had to be crazy to attempt something like this. And a crazy man always has a serious advantage in making mayhem.

Pritkin rounded the corner and followed us as we began our descent. I glared at him and he returned the look. "What is happening? What trickery is this?"

Everybody ignored him. The stairs shuddered under our feet and the overhead lights swung dangerously. "Vaffanculo! The secondaries are down!" Rafe screamed. I didn't know what that meant, but a look at Mircea's face told me it wasn't good.

"That is impossible. They should not have been able to get through that quickly!" Mircea tucked my head into his chest, and the next second we were at the bottom of the stairs. I guess we flew, but it had happened so fast, I couldn't be sure. We moved into the Senate chamber at almost the same moment that another explosion came from above, and burning pieces of the stairway rained down behind us. A flaming splinter missed my face by a millimeter; then Mircea made a gesture and the heavy metal door into the chamber clanged shut.

Rafe stared around fearfully. "This cannot be happening!"

"You are needed to shore up the defenses," Tomas told Mircea urgently. "Give me Cassie!" He tried to take me, but Mircea jerked away and crossed the room in another lightning movement. A door opened in the rock where only flat, bare stone had existed before. It shouldn't have surprised me: this was a facility built by magic users, so there were probably more hidden doorways than visible ones. But it was still the best example of a perimeter ward I've ever seen, without a flaw even from only a few feet away. So that's how Jack had appeared out of nowhere earlier.

There was a deafening explosion behind us, and over Mircea's shoulder I saw the heavy door he had just secured blown inward like it was paper. A mage leapt through the opening, only to be speared by two pieces of iron that came out of nowhere. I glanced up to see that the chandeliers had undergone a transformation like the sconces upstairs. Those hundreds of razor-sharp points were now vibrating, sending a dull, metal throbbing echoing around the room, like the sound of thousands of feet stamping in unison at a football game. They were excitedly waiting for someone else to poke their head inside the room.

After Mircea finally convinced the wards to let us through, we swept down a long corridor. Torches burst to life left and right. Electricity tends to interfere with some types of wards and the corridor was fairly crackling with them. We went through three huge metal doors that were so heavily warded my skin felt pulled out of shape as we passed, like little hands were crawling all over me. The last one was the worst. The resistance was so strong that, for a minute, I didn't think it was going to let any of us through. But Mircea barked out a command, and finally the almost physical barrier weakened enough that we could push past.

Inside was a small room with four hallways branching off at different angles. Mircea stopped, so abruptly that Tomas almost ran into him. "Mircea! Which way?"

"How did they break through so quickly?" Mircea asked again, and for a moment I thought he was talking to me. Then I looked up and saw Tomas' face. There was nothing of the man I had known in it. It was a haughty, savage, beautiful countenance, something that would have looked right staring out from an ancient coin. I could see the Incan noble in his features; what I could not see was any sign of the gentle man I had known.

"We can talk later! Tell me the way, Mircea!"

Mircea smiled, his attention still apparently on me. "I have been a fool, it seems, Cassandra."

I glanced in confusion between the two of them. There was a building current of power in the room that worried me. The wards didn't like it either; the air was close and getting heavier by the second. "Tell me, Mircea!" Tomas demanded. "No one has to die today."

"Oh, I can assure you," Mircea replied, almost kindly, "someone will."

"What are you two talking about?!" I tried to get to my feet, but Mircea's grip didn't loosen.

Rafe answered from behind me, his voice bitter. "It seems Tomas has changed sides, mia stella. What was the price for your betrayal, bastardo?"

Tomas sneered at him, and the expression looked strange on his usually stoic face. "Did you really think I would work to keep myself in chains? I should be Consul! I would lead the Latin American Senate today if it had not been for that creature's interference. I will not let you keep me subject to the whims of a child!"

"Oh, okay." Billy Joe floated around Tomas' head.

"That's how the dark mages were able to figure out the wards so fast. Tomas told them what to expect. Guess he ain't thrilled with the idea of staying servant to that French guy." He glanced over his shoulder, back the way we came. "I'll be back in a minute."

"They will be here soon," Tomas told Mircea. "Don't be a fool. Help us, and you will be rewarded. I give you my word!"

"Why would anyone take the word of a traitor?" Rafe asked, his tone insulting. I would have told him to be quiet if I'd thought it would do any good. The expression on Tomas' face reminded me of Tony in a mood, and antagonizing him then had never been smart.

"What do you plan for Cassandra?" Mircea demanded.

Tomas' eyes flickered to me. "She has been promised to me, as part of my reward. She will not be harmed."

Mircea laughed contemptuously. "Cassandra may become Pythia. Quite a prize, Tomas. Do you really think your master will let you keep her?"

"I have no master!" Tomas shouted, and I felt a bolt of power slam against Mircea's shields, just above my head. His defenses held, but I didn't see how. I was dazed from only the near miss, and Rafe was on the floor, screaming.

"Rafe! Mircea, put me down." He ignored me. I had the impression that he and Tomas had forgotten that anybody else was in the room.

"If Rasputin kills Louis-César in anything but fair combat, your side wins nothing. You know this, Tomas. What are you planning?"

"Rasputin will be fighting Mei Ling, not Louis-César. He will win easily, and the other senates will have to acknowledge his control. The Frenchman dodged our first attempt, when Cassie and I saved the girl, but soon it won't matter."

"What?" I had the impression I'd missed something.

Mircea seemed to understand, though. "You slipped earlier, when you said he'd been cursed. But he wasn't, and you should have known that—you've been his servant for a century. I should have caught it then. Before you and Cassie interfered, Louis-César was not made; he was cursed, wasn't he? By the gypsy family whose daughter died because of him. That is the way it originally happened, is it not?"

It took a second for his words to soak in. "You have got to be kidding," I told him. He shot me a warning look, and I shut up.

Tomas apparently didn't notice. "She was their only daughter. The king ordered her death to make a lasting impression on his half brother, but her family didn't know that. They blamed the man they thought had seduced her and then had her killed when she ceased to be amusing. Her grandmother was a very powerful woman, and in her grief she cursed him with vampirism."

Rafe had managed to get back to his feet, although he didn't look good. He started to speak, but I frantically shook my head at him. The last thing I wanted was to remind Tomas that he was in the room.

Tomas was too caught up in his story to care. "When I realized Cassie had brought us to a time when Louis-César was still human, I knew it was the perfect opportunity to free myself. I thought if the girl was rescued, the curse would not be laid and he would die after a normal, human life span. I blame him for causing much suffering by his interference, but it was largely unwitting. I thought it would not be a tragedy for him to die as all men do, at his appointed time, but I should have been firmer. I do not know what went wrong, how he became vampire after all, but it does not matter." He looked at me. "You will take me back, Cassie, and this time, I will be more direct. You must help me possess a body so I will have the strength to kill him."

I stared at him. What the hell did he expect me to say: sure thing, no problem! I was beginning to think he was as crazy as Rasputin.

Before I could figure out what to say, Billy Joe appeared in front of me. "Cassie! They're in the Senate chamber. If you're gonna do anything, now would be good."

"Do what? I need to touch Louis-César to shift. And he's not here!"

"Well, you better come up with something. The Senate's wards are goin' down like some first-year wardsmith crafted 'em, and the glamourie in the outer chamber ain't gonna fool anybody if they already know where it is. They'll be here any minute."

"Why should Cassandra help you?" Mircea asked, sounding as composed as if he and Tomas were having a polite conversation over tea. "What can you offer her that we cannot?"

Tomas glanced at Rafe. "The life of her old friend, for one." His eyes turned back to me. "I will guarantee Raphael's safety, Cassie, if you aid us. Otherwise, Tony has requested the right to deal with him personally for acting as Mircea's informant. You are aware what that will mean?"

"I don't get it," I told him honestly. "We lived together for months. If you were going to betray me, why not do it then? Why now?"

"I did not betray you," Tomas said intently. "Think about it. Mircea almost let you get killed; why do you trust him? Did he keep you safe? Was he there when you were attacked? I saved you; not him! And I was the one who realized that Rasputin could be the answer for both of us." He looked at me beseechingly. "Don't you see? Once Louis-César is dead, I can challenge Alejandro again, and this time I will defeat him! As it is, much of my strength has to go into resisting my master's will; it weakens me too much to do what must be done. But that burden will be lifted by the Frenchman's death, and I can then save my people. And afterwards, you will never again have to worry about anyone harming you. As Consul, I can do more than merely promise protection. I can deliver!"

"You contacted Rasputin? When?"

"After your first vision, when I knew for certain what you can do. I called Tony and offered to hand you over, but only to Rasputin. He promised to guarantee your life in exchange for my aid. Since his plans coincided with mine, I agreed."

"Rafe told you I'd go after Jimmy, and you told Tony." I said it, but I didn't believe it.

Tomas saw the hurt in my expression, and his softened. "I had to tell him you were going to Dante's, Cassie. If there was no deal and they found you first, you might have died."

"I almost died because they knew where I'd be, Tomas! They ambushed us."

He shook his head. "I was there to ensure your safety. You were in no danger—it was Louis-César they wanted. When he is gone, Mei Ling will not be a problem."

"Tomas!" I wanted to scream at his obtuseness. How could anyone live half a millennium and be that stupid? "Rasputin doesn't need me! Don't you get it? He already has a sybil who does whatever he wants. The only thing he wants me to do is die!"

"Very perceptive, Miss Palmer." Pritkin entered the room with guns drawn. I had forgotten about him. I guess everyone else had, too. He kept his eyes on Tomas but spoke to me. "It would seem that we are allies—for the moment. I'll keep him here, but I suggest you hurry. There are ten black knights outside. I have constructed a few surprises they do not have advance warning about, but they will not hold for long. They will be here in a matter of minutes."

"Our wards will hold!" Rafe said proudly. "The traitor could not give them the secrets of the inner wards; he did not know them."

Pritkin gave his usual sneer. "Believe what you like, vampire, but we have training exercises more difficult than your so-called defenses! If she does not act, the sybil will die and there will be nothing to stop the Senate from being replaced by one allied with the dark." He kept his eyes and his weapons steady on Tomas, but again he spoke to me. "If you can do anything, do it now."

"I don't know how!" I ran a hand through my hair, wanting to pull some of it out in frustration, and met up with something solid. My fingers curled around the hair clip Louis-César had given me when tending my cheek. It had somehow managed to hang in there all this time. I concentrated and felt a faint tingle, a distant echo of the disorientation that preceded a vision, but it wasn't enough. It had belonged to him, had been in contact with his body, so it should have worked as a focus the same way he had. But either I wasn't strong enough to make the leap with only an object, or he hadn't owned it very long and the link was weak. Either way, I needed help.

"Billy! I need something called the Tears of Apollo."

"Okay, and this would be where?"

I looked up at Mircea. "The Tears! What do they look like and where are they?"

"In the inner sanctum, in a small bottle, crystal with a blue stopper. But if we enter the chamber, Tomas will know the way. These four hallways are the last barrier. Three are false and lead only to death. Only one leads to the Consul. Once she is dead, our cause is lost."

Billy had drifted over as we spoke. "There's only one real passageway, Cass. The others are just good glamourie. I'll be right back."

"Cassie, don't do this!" Tomas looked daggers at Mircea. "He will never let you go! If you truly want freedom, help me." I shook my head and his face grew desperate. "Please, Cassie, you can't refuse! You don't understand—Alejandro is a monster! I have begged Louis-César to free me. I have told him what atrocities Alejandro has done, what he will continue to do until someone stops him, yet he refuses."

"I can't believe he won't help you. I could try—"

"Cassie! If I could not sway him in a century of pleading, why do you think he would listen to you? Alejandro has some sort of hold over him. He has something Louis-César wants and has promised it to him if he keeps me under control. I have thought about this for years and there is no other way. Alejandro must die, and therefore so must his champion."

I looked into the fervent light in Tomas' eyes and saw that he meant every word he was saying. He might want to be Consul, but he also really wanted this Alejandro dead. For all I knew, maybe the guy deserved what Tomas obviously wanted to dish out. But that wasn't up to me to decide. "I won't trade one person's life for another's, Tomas. I can't let you murder Louis-César. I'm not God, and neither are you."

Tomas gestured violently at Mircea. "Why can't you see that he only wants to use you? If you did not have your powers, you would mean nothing to him!"

"And what would I mean to you, if I couldn't help you gain the consulate?"

Tomas smiled, and it transformed his face, making him look boyish and adorable again. Like my Tomas. "You know how I feel about you, Cassie. I will give you security and peace. What can he offer?"

I was about to point out that he hadn't answered the question, when Billy came streaming back, a small bottle clutched in one insubstantial hand. "I hope you don't need nothin' else, Cass, 'cause I'm outta juice." He dropped the Tears in my palm, and the tiny bottle was surprisingly heavy.

I slid out the stopper just as Tomas lunged, not at me as I'd half expected, but at Rafe. Pritkin fired, but the shotgun blast was stopped by the heavy wards of the chamber and deflected back on him. His shields held, but his gun ended up a twisted mass of steaming metal and he was thrown back against the wall, hard.

"Give me the Tears, Cassie." Tomas held out one hand; the other had Rafe in a stranglehold. "Mircea can't protect all of you at the same time, but no one has to get hurt. Help me and I'll let him go."

I didn't have to worry about finding an answer. Tomas had, once again, underestimated the mage. I guess he thought that, with the wards rendering magical weapons and firearms useless, Pritkin couldn't be much of a threat. He found out differently when the mage jumped up, drew a cord out of his pocket and slipped it around Tomas' throat. A garrote may be crude, but it works.

Tomas let go of Rafe and Mircea didn't waste any time pushing him towards the doorway Billy had exited. Rafe had barely cleared it when the chamber's wards failed and a whole crowd of people muscled in. Pritkin yelled something and let go, pushing Tomas towards them. Mircea clutched me tight and, in the time it takes to blink, we were inside another hallway, running full out. I felt the passageway's wards slam shut behind us and got a glimpse of the scene in the outer chamber over Mircea's shoulder. Tomas was slumped on the ground, a hand to his throat, gagging. Behind him were some humans wearing enough weapons to tell me as clearly as if they'd had it tattooed on their foreheads that they were war mages. I had a glimpse of Pritkin, face distorted in a snarl as he faced them; then we rounded a corner and were in the inner sanctum.