Claimed by Shadow

  Billy returned after half an hour with news. The guards fit the descriptions Mac had given him and, lucky for us, there was a major uproar in the vamp area. “It’s like a circus, Cass—everybody’s there. The rest of the place is practically deserted!”

  “Well?” Pritkin was looking impatient. “What does he say?”

  “It’s okay—the right guys are on duty.” Billy, I noticed, was looking way too pleased about something. Maybe it was just relief that our job might be easier than we’d thought, but I doubted it. I knew his expressions almost as well as I knew my own, and he was practically ecstatic. “Okay, out with it.”

  Billy grinned and twirled his hat around an index finger. For some reason the finger was less substantial at the moment than the hat, so it looked like his headgear was doing a giddy little jig all on its own. “It’s too perfect,” he crowed, his grin threatening to split his face. “Talk about a good omen!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Is something wrong?” Pritkin demanded. Billy and I both ignored him.

  “I know your birthday doesn’t start for a couple more hours, Cass, but you’re getting your present early.”

  “Billy! Just tell me already.”

  He laughed delightedly, to the point that it barely missed being a cackle. “It’s that bastard Tomas. He was captured early yesterday morning. I think they’re trying to decide what would be the most painful way to execute him. That’s why everyone’s crowded into the vamp section—they want to see the show.” Billy threw his hat up into the air jubilantly. “I wouldn’t mind taking a peek myself, if we had time.”

  The only thing that saved me from falling was that I was already sitting down. Tomas was about to be executed and might already be under torture? I sat blinking at Billy as my brain tried to comprehend it, and whatever showed on my face he didn’t like. His grin faded and he started shaking his head violently.

  “No. No way are you doing this! He deserves this, Cass, you know he does. He betrayed you—hell, he almost got you killed! For once, fate is taking a problem off our hands gratis. Let’s smile, say thank you and stay the hell out of it!”

  My face felt numb. I wondered vaguely whether that was due to the night breeze or to horror. I was betting on horror. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” Billy flickered like a candle flame in his agitation. “It’s easy. We walk into MAGIC’s nice, quiet halls, make our way to the portal and pass through. That’s it, that’s all. No biggie.”

  “Yes biggie.” I stood up, wobbling a little, and Pritkin caught my arm. As usual he wasn’t gentle, but this time that was a plus. I barely kept my balance even with his iron grip. “Very much biggie.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s going on?” Pritkin was talking, but I barely heard him. All I could hear was Tomas’ voice raised in agony, all I could see was him tied down like an animal, waiting for Jack.

  If I closed my eyes, I could see a different scene. It was Tomas in the kitchen of our Atlanta apartment, frowning in puzzlement at the stove. It hadn’t cooked the brownies he’d intended as breakfast for me, possibly because he hadn’t known to turn the thing on. He’d been wearing one of my aprons, the one that said DOES NOT COOK WELL WITH OTHERS, over the smiley face pajama bottoms I’d bought to keep him from sleeping in the altogether. We’d had separate bedrooms, but just the thought of Tomas down the hall wearing only his skin had been keeping me up nights. I’d explained how the range operated and we’d eaten the whole pan of brownies before I went off to work, resulting in a sugar buzz that lasted most of the day.

  That was the first time I’d let myself begin to hope that he might become a permanent fixture in my life. He’d already been my best friend for six of the happiest months I’d ever known. Against all odds, I’d actually started to create a more or less normal existence. I’d liked my sunny apartment, my wonderfully predictable job at a travel agency and my gorgeous roommate. Tomas had been a dream come true—handsome, considerate, strong, yet vulnerable enough to make me want to take care of him.

  I should have remembered the old phrase about something that looks too good to be true, but I’d been too busy enjoying the gift fate had dropped in my lap. What followed had proven that the gift had been more of a curse, and the normal life only a mirage. All those rosy dreams had come crashing down around my head, leaving scars that hadn’t even scabbed over, much less healed. I realized with a jolt that the brownie incident had been only a few weeks ago. That seemed impossible; it had to have been at least a decade.

  Pritkin was shaking me, but I barely noticed. I opened my eyes, but it was Jack’s pale face and crazed expression I saw. The Consul’s favorite torturer loved his work, and he was very, very good at it. He’d probably had plenty of firsthand instruction from Augusta. I’d seen him in action on one very memorable occasion, and no way could I leave Tomas in his hands. No matter what he’d done; no matter how furious I was with him. There was no freaking way.

  It looked like I got to be the knight on the white horse after all. Only never in my wildest dreams had I planned on the odds being quite this bad. There was such a thing as a heroic challenge and then there was suicide, and I had no doubt into which category this fit. If Tomas’ death was being made into a public show, most of MAGIC would be there: vamps, mages, weres, maybe even a few Fey. And somehow we not only had to get past them and snatch him from under the Consul’s nose; we also had to battle our way to the portal afterward. It was worse than a nightmare. It was insane.

  “We have a problem,” I told Pritkin, choking back an absurd urge to giggle at the understatement.

  His eyes narrowed to pale slits. “What problem?” Since he forced the words past clenched teeth, it looked like he’d already figured out that he was going to hate this. That was good; it saved time.

  “Billy says the halls are almost empty because every-one’s in the vampire area. They’re executing someone tonight, and it’s drawn quite a crowd.”

  “Executing who?” Pritkin’s icy green eyes stared into mine and I smiled weakly, remembering the last time he and Tomas met. To say that they weren’t pals was missing the mark a bit. People don’t generally try to behead their friends.

  “Um, well, actually . . .” I sighed. “It’s Tomas.”

  I couldn’t keep myself from wincing slightly, but Pritkin barely reacted, other than to look slightly relieved. “Good. Then this should be simpler than I’d anticipated.” He noticed my expression and his frown returned. “Why does this constitute a problem?”

  I swallowed. I’d have preferred a little more time to lead up to it, like a year or two, but I couldn’t afford to stall. Every second that passed was dangerous for Tomas. Jack liked to play with his victims before finishing them off, and no one would be happy with a short show. But it had been dark for well over an hour. Jack could do a lot of damage in that time.

  I looked at Pritkin and worked up a smile. It didn’t seem to help, and I gave it up. “Because we, uh, sort of have to rescue him.”

  Chapter 9

  Pritkin looked as if he was trying to determine whether I was genuinely crazy, or just temporarily insane. “Do you remember what that place contains?” he asked in a savage undertone, gesturing at the dark outline of MAGIC. “If we had every war mage in the corps, it wouldn’t be enough!”

  Billy was nodding violently behind Pritkin’s head. “Listen to the mage, Cass. He’s talking sense.”

  I didn’t even try to persuade Billy to do something for Tomas. He’d never liked him, even before the betrayal, which because of our arrangement he viewed as an attack on himself as well as on me. I glanced at Mac but didn’t see much in the way of encouragement. He seemed like a fairly sympathetic guy, but he was also Pritkin’s friend, not to mention that there was no love lost between mages and vamps. They tolerated each other, but they didn’t risk their necks for each other.

  I sighed. “If none of you want to help, then wait here. I’ll manage without you.” Tomas was no
t dying tonight.

  “He tried to kill you!” Pritkin had apparently decided to reason with me.

  “Actually, he tried to kill you. He thought he was helping me; he’s just not that bright sometimes.”

  Pritkin moved, but Mac was suddenly there, a hand on his friend’s chest. “Throwing her over your shoulder isn’t going to help, John,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what this vampire is to her, but if we let him die I think we can kiss the Pythia’s help goodbye.”

  “She is not Pythia yet,” Pritkin said, teeth clenched so tight that I don’t know how he got the words out. “She’s a foolish child who—”

  I started down the incline, wondering if I really had gone mad, but within seconds a Pritkin-shaped bulk appeared in front of me, blocking my way. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded, looking genuinely confused. “Tell me you’re not in love with him—that you’re not about to risk our lives because of some vampire’s seduction techniques!”

  I paused. I wasn’t sure what to call the stew of emotions Tomas inspired, but I didn’t think it was love. “He was my friend,” I said, trying to explain so Pritkin would understand— which was difficult since I wasn’t sure I did. “He betrayed me, but in his own warped view of things he thought he was helping me. He endangered my life, but he also saved it. I guess we’re sort of even.”

  “Then you don’t owe him anything.”

  “This isn’t about what I owe him.” And it wasn’t. I wanted to rescue Tomas, but, I realized with sudden clarity, I also wanted something else. “It’s about making a statement. Someone who is known to be important to me is being publicly humiliated, tortured and killed. Yet no one— not the mages, not the Senate, not a single individual in the supernatural community—ever once thought to ask my permission!”

  “Your permission?” Pritkin looked dumbfounded. “And precisely why would they need that?”

  I looked at him and shook my head. Screw this. If I had to deal with all the downsides of the office, it was about time I had a few of the perks, too. “Because I’m Pythia,” I said quietly, and shifted.

  I had assumed the Senate would be using its own chamber for this, and I’d been right. The usual echoing vastness was empty no longer. The huge mahogany slab that served as the Senate table was still there, although it had a new purpose now. The chairs that normally lined one side had been moved, arranged in a semicircle in front of the table. Behind them were row upon row of benches, crowded with weres, mages and vamps. The only no-shows were the Fey, unless they looked so much like the mages that I couldn’t tell them apart. After my experience at Dante’s, I kind of doubted that.

  I had landed right where I’d planned, directly beside Tomas. I wasn’t interested in subtlety, although there would have been no way to manage it in any case; I had to touch him in order to shift us away. Jack had stepped back a few feet when I flashed in, and to my surprise he made no move to grab me.

  My eyes automatically scanned the rows, looking for one face in particular. I found him easily, sitting at the end of the front row of seats in the position nearest me. Mircea’s stylish black suit was perfect in cut and fit, and the pale gray banded-collar shirt he wore under it was silk. Platinum cufflinks that shimmered faintly in the lamplight constituted his only jewelry. He looked as elegant and in control as always, but his aura was fluctuating wildly. It spiked when he saw me, but he made no move forward.

  Behind him, many of the spectators had overturned their chairs in haste to get to their feet. The Consul stood with one hand up, some sort of signal to hold them off, I guessed. Each group’s area inside MAGIC was sacrosanct, the same way an embassy on foreign soil belongs to its host government. The weres and mages had to behave themselves on vamp territory or they violated the treaties that protected them and it was open season.

  I felt Sheba wake up and start licking a paw on my left shoulder blade. She was ready to rumble—too bad there was only one of her and about a thousand of them.

  “Cassandra, you have returned to us.” As always, the Consul appeared perfectly serene. The only movement was her outfit, which consisted of bare skin covered by a lot of writhing snakes. It was little ones this time, none longer than a finger, who slipped over her like a shimmering second skin. “We have been concerned for you.”

  Something suddenly rippled across me, an odd, skin-prickling sensation. It didn’t hurt, but I didn’t know what it was, and under the circumstances that wasn’t good. I decided not to hang around and find out.

  “I bet. Wish I could stay and chat, but maybe next time.” I gripped Tomas’ shoulder tighter and tried to shift, but nothing happened. I didn’t feel the slightest surge of my power, even though it had been bright and strong just moments before.

  “You cannot shift, Cassandra,” the Consul said in her habitual even tones. She had a good voice, well modulated and slightly husky. A guy would have probably found it sexy; I was having a very different reaction.

  Tomas moved slightly and I looked down at him. “It’s a trap,” he croaked weakly. “They said you would come for me. I didn’t believe it—there was no reason. Why did you come back?” The anguished cry seemed to sap his strength and he collapsed into unconsciousness. I stared at the Consul, who looked calmly back, no hint of apology visible on that beautiful face.

  Tomas was alive, but his wounds were bad—very bad. He was laid out on the dark wood like some bizarre form of art—something Picasso might have painted if he was in the habit of putting his nightmares on canvas. This might have been a trap, but it was obvious that, if I hadn’t shown up, the Senate would have let Jack kill him. They probably planned to do so anyway, now that he’d served his purpose.

  I narrowed my eyes at the Consul, but she made no response. I’d seen her kill two ancient vampires with little more than a look, when they were farther from her than I currently was. But I felt no sting of desert sand against my face, no warning rush of power. It suddenly occurred to me that, in a room full of magical creatures, I felt no magic at all.

  “You used a null bomb on me, didn’t you?”

  The Consul smiled. It wasn’t a nice expression. “You overlooked a few.”

  Considering everything, I didn’t feel much like apologizing for taking their stuff. “Well, damn. I’ll try to be more thorough next time.”

  “We don’t have time for verbal sparring,” an old mage interrupted, glaring at me. “The effect won’t last much longer, and you know we can’t afford to explode another—”

  One of the Senate members, a brunette in hoop skirts, picked him up by the throat, choking off his voice as she hoisted him into the air. She looked inquiringly at the Consul, but the Senate leader shook her head. The damage was done. All I needed was to stall long enough for the spell to break. Then my power could get Tomas and me out of this. Unfortunately, I had no idea how long that might take.

  “Look, all I want is Tomas,” I told her. “You were about to kill him, so I guess you won’t miss him.”

  My attempt to start a dialogue fell flat. “I wish this were not necessary, Cassandra,” the Consul said quietly. She glanced at the vampires around her, some of the most powerful on the planet. “Take her,” she said simply.

  I didn’t try to run. There was no point. Under other circumstances, it would almost have been funny. What did she think I was going to do that would require half a dozen first-level masters to stop? Without my power and with my ward acting up, the youngest vamp in the place could make me into dinner with no problem at all.

  Then I realized that I wasn’t the one she was worried about.

  “Remove it!” Mircea had stopped short of the table, and although his face was impassive, his fists were clenched at his sides. Not a good sign on someone who normally controlled himself so well. The other vamps seemed to agree. They weren’t looking at me—every eye was riveted on him.

  “Mircea.” The Consul walked up behind him and placed a smooth bronze-skinned hand on his shoulder. It looked like it was meant as a calming g
esture, but he shrugged it off. The circle of vamps drew in a collective breath, and the southern belle actually gasped. The Consul’s hand quickly became an arm around his throat, but it was as if he didn’t even notice. “I suggest you heed him,” she told me. I noticed that, despite her grip, Mircea was making slow progress forward, if only by inches. “What do you hope to gain by allowing this to continue?”

  “Allowing what to continue?” I looked from her to Mircea in mounting confusion, only to see his calm facade slip a little more. I didn’t need her to tell me that something was wrong. His face was as white as bone, but his eyes burned like two candles.

  “This has gone on long enough,” the Consul agreed. “Release him, and we will discuss matters amicably. Otherwise . . .”

  “Otherwise what?” I might not understand what was happening, but I knew a threat when I heard one.

  “I will let go,” she said quietly. “Then we will see if you can deal with the results of your revenge. We have been doing it long enough.” The dark eyes flashed, and I suddenly understood how she’d dominated an empire when only a teenager. “I need him, Cassandra! We are at war. I cannot have him like this, not now.”

  “Cassie . . .” Mircea had somehow managed to lift his right arm, despite the fact that a Senate member almost as old as the Consul was hanging off it. Tendrils of sensation radiated outward from his hand like smoke from a fire. At first I thought he was just leaking power, but then one wisp brushed against me and I understood. It felt like one of my old visions, the kind in which I saw flashes of the future. They had been absent since my run-in with the Pythia, and I had wondered whether they were gone for good. I’d half hoped so. They had been a part of me for as long as I could remember, but they’d never shown me anything good. This was no exception.