Embrace the Night

Chapter 28

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed in a posh room painted a soft, muted blue. The curtains were tightly drawn, so I assumed it was daylight outside because a vampire sat beside my bed. "You ran into the wall," Sal said, looking up from buffing her nails. "It was real embarrassing."

I sat up and immediately regretted it. Everything hurt. "I did not."

"Yeah, you really did. Bam! Out like a light. Not that you weren't pretty close already."

I felt my head and, sure enough, there was a big, fat bruise. "I feel like shit."

"You look worse. On the plus side, we won the battle. And what you did with those two mages was pretty cool."

"So, you're saying what? I'm breaking even?"

"Just about." She laid something hard and cold on my chest. "A little girl dropped this off for you. Said to tell you that your necklace is haunted."

I wrapped my fist around the familiar weight and felt the brief energy sizzle that told me Billy was in residence, soaking up energy. "I know," I said tearfully. "The kids are all right, then?"

"I guess." She grimaced. "There seem to be a lot of them around."

"And Françoise and Radella and—"

"What do I look like? The six o'clock news? Ask the mage if you want to know."

"Pritkin! How is—"

"He's fine. After you took a nosedive, the Consul sent Marlowe after him. Turns out, he didn't need the help. He'd already killed the guy."

I swallowed and lay back. Nick. She meant Nick. And Pritkin had had to kill him because I'd been stupid enough to hand Nick the answer to all his dreams. Or at least, he'd probably thought so. I remembered his face when he'd told me that the Codex was the key to ultimate power. Too bad he hadn't understood—the power didn't go to us.

"I need to see him," I told Sal.

"Good." She got up and stretched, and her cat suit told me that I was a pain in the ass in big purple letters. "Because he's really starting to get on my nerves."

"He's here?"

Sal rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah. And I don't know how you put up with him."

"He kinda grows on you."

"Uh-huh." She didn't look convinced. "Oh, and one other thing." She tapped a black box beside the bed with a long fingernail. "The Consul left this for you. And she's getting snippy."

I almost asked what it was, before I remembered: Mircea. Sal was right. I wasn't done yet. We might have won the battle, but my personal war remained to be fought.

I nodded and Sal left, or tried to. She'd barely opened the door when Pritkin barged past her. He didn't look like he'd bathed or changed, but his hair was once again an independent entity. "They said you destroyed it!"

"I'm fine," I said, checking under the covers to see that I actually had clothes on. I did, although it was a T-shirt and sweatpants, not the ruined evening dress. I sat up again. "Thanks for asking."

Pritkin waved it away. "I spoke with the doctor who attended you earlier. I knew you were well. Did you destroy it?"

"Yes."

"All of it?"

I sighed. "No, I left out the important bits. Yes, all of it! There wasn't so much as a cinder left after Jesse torched it. Relax. It's over."

"It will never be over. Another Pythia could go back, find it again—"

I burst out laughing, but quit because it hurt. "Yeah, because it was so damn easy."

"It could happen," he said stubbornly.

"And all I can say is, good luck to her. She'll need it." I looked at him more seriously. "I'd like to ask a question—and get an honest answer. For a change."

"You want to know why I kept you in the dark."

"That would be the one. Why not just tell me what was going on?"

He looked at me in disbelief. "What reason did I have to assume that you would choose the Circle's side over Apollo's? He could give you everything: security, the knowledge you need about your power, wealth…whereas the Circle—"

"Has been trying its best to kill me." I took a moment to absorb that. I didn't like to admit it, but I kind of saw his point. With so much at stake, even if he'd wanted to tell me, he couldn't have risked it. I wasn't sure I'd have risked it.

"They were afraid of what an untrained Pythia might do," he continued, "given what Myra already had done. She was brought up knowing how dangerous that creature was, being warned against him, yet she still fell in line with his plans. As many others have done."

"It does explain a lot," I agreed. "I've been wondering why Tony, who pretty much defines ‘paranoid, would join a risky rebellion. But I guess he didn't think it would be much of a risk with a god on his side."

"Which was what the Circle assumed you would think. And once their attempts to remove you failed, they were even more certain that you would side against them as soon as you realized that you had such an ally." He looked at me curiously. "In truth, I am not entirely sure why you did not."

I shot him a look. "I've read the old legends, part of them anyway. Enough to guess what things would be like with his group here again."

"Is that all?" Pritkin looked skeptical. "Because you would have been his favorite, a pampered pet, a—"

"Slave," I finished flatly. "I would have been his slave." I'd already had one master, and that had been more than enough. "I said that no one would ever control me again like Tony did. I meant it."

Pritkin's jaw tightened. "That kind of power would be very attractive to many. Regardless of the price they had to pay for it."

"I'm sorry about Nick," I said, knowing what he had to be thinking.

He didn't flinch, but his eyes were shadowed. "It was necessary," he said tersely. "He'd seen the spell; he could have told others."

"He would have told others. He spent half an hour telling me all about what's wrong with the Circle, how it's a big bureaucratic mess that just needs a firm hand to straighten out. His hand, I assume."

"He was feeling you out, trying to discover if you would support his position."

"Yeah. He didn't seem too happy when I laughed at him."

Pritkin regarded me for a long moment. "You are an unusual person…Lady Cassandra."

I blinked, sure for a moment that I'd heard wrong. "What did you call me?"

"You have chosen a new reign title, I believe."

"Yeah. But since when do you use it?"

"Since you've earned it."

"Along with a lot of enemies." My list of problems now included a pissed-off demon lord, the Dark Fey king—who was still waiting impatiently for the Codex—and an angry god. To keep the last of those from turning mankind back into his playthings, I had to protect the Silver Circle from annihilation, even though they were facing a war with his allies and still wanted me dead themselves. And, oh, yeah, I was in the last place I'd wanted to be, allied with the Senate in the thick of the fight.

"A hazard of office." Pritkin shrugged. "There were many who did not care for Lady Phemonoe."

Yeah, like the ones who had killed her. "She once told me that I'd be the very best of us, or the very worst," I admitted. "I didn't know what that meant for a long time. I think I do now. Either my reign will see the office finally under the control of the Pythia, instead of the Circle or some ancient being, or it will see me, and everyone else, become slaves to that creature."

"That won't happen."

I almost pointed out that it very nearly had happened, but I didn't feel like getting into a fight. "Which kind of brings us to something else I wanted to ask you," I said instead. "The Circle maintains the ouroboros spell now, right?"

"Yes. Power is drawn from the Circle collectively, as no one mage could possibly sustain such a thing alone."

That was what I'd been afraid of. "Okay, so exactly how many ‘blows' can the Circle take before they can't keep up the spell anymore?"

"I don't know."

"Guess."

"I can't. All I can tell you is that when the spell was laid, the Circle was considerably smaller than it is now. Presumably we have some leeway before a crisis point is reached. But as the war heats up, there will be casualties. And every loss will become progressively more dangerous."

"Because it could be the one that lets the old gods return."

"They're not gods! They're strong, but primarily because their magic is so different from ours that it is difficult to counter. And there is certainly nothing godlike about their attitudes! Petty, arrogant, cruel beings without a shred of—"

"My point," I said, raising my voice, "is that if the Circle weakens too far, the spell snaps. So how do we keep that from happening? It's a little hard to save the lives of a bunch of people who are still trying to kill me!"

Pritkin ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. "I am well aware of that! We will have to manage some kind of rapprochement. If we continue to fight amongst ourselves, our enemies will have a definite advantage."

"And even if we win the war, if the Circle is weakened enough that the spell shatters—"

"Then we've lost anyway." Pritkin finished for me grimly.

"How would you suggest we begin? The Circle hates me."

"I don't know. With its current leadership…I don't know," he repeated. "It will not be easy. But above all else, you have to show them that you are not a puppet of the vampires. That isn't the case, I know," he said, forestalling my protest, "but that is how it appears. You live here, surrounded by them; you wear Mircea's mark; you are bound to him by the geis—"

"About that last one—I assume you are going to help me break it?"

There was a commotion outside, then the door burst open and Casanova ran in. He batted away Sal's hands. "Let go of me, woman!"

"What else have I been doing?" Pritkin asked incredulously. "What more would you have me do?"

Casanova looked at me. "Feeling better, are we?" It didn't sound concerned. It sounded pissed.

"Not particularly, no." I looked at Pritkin. "Cast the spell, of course."

"Good," Casanova snapped. "Because, thanks to you, neither am I!"

"What spell?" Pritkin asked, looking confused.

"The one to remove the geis!" I said impatiently. "I had to destroy the Codex, remember? I don't have it. But you do, so it doesn't matter."

"Are you paying attention?" Casanova demanded.

"Maybe when you stop insulting me, I'll think about it," I told him.

"Because Françoise won't do anything about those women, and the pixie won't do anything for anyone until she gets some rune she keeps raving about, and somebody has to!"

"What women?"

"We already tried that," Pritkin said, starting to look worried.

"The Graeae!" Casanova said, throwing up his hands. "They helped Françoise get the kids out—I personally think they just like killing demons, or anything else that stands still long enough—and now she won't even attempt to trap them. And they're currently all three downstairs! Together! If you hurry—"

"Tried what?" I asked Pritkin.

"The counterspell. I cast it for you in France. Twice."

I stared at him, Casanova momentarily forgotten. "That was a fake. It didn't work."

"It didn't work," he agreed, "but it wasn't a fake."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that all three of them are together right now!" Casanova raged. "Who knows when we'll get this opportunity again? Get up, get down there and talk some sense into that witch!"

I stared at Pritkin. "It has to work. We've already tried everything else!"

He just shook his head. "I cast it on you not only in France, but here in our time as well. It failed. That is why I have been searching for an alternative."

"Well?" Casanova demanded.

"And?" I asked Pritkin frantically.

"Nothing. I do not understand why the geis is behaving this way. It shouldn't still be there—it can't still be there. And yet it is."

"Are you even listening to me?" Casanova all but screamed.

"Yes!" I snapped. "The Graeae are downstairs, all together, and you want me to trap them before—" I stopped, staring at him.

"Yes. So let's go." He hauled me to my feet.

"My thoughts exactly," I said, grabbing Mircea's trap and Pritkin's hand.

"Where are we going?" Pritkin asked, looking confused.

"To end this!"

We reappeared in Mircea's suite at MAGIC. It was two weeks in the past, just after I'd dropped him off following our time in Paris. I'd concentrated on him instead of a place when I shifted, because I hadn't known for certain where he'd be. But I hadn't counted on catching him coming out of the shower.

"Dulceata?. Always a pleasure," he said, unselfconsciously toweling himself off. He glanced at Pritkin. "Why?" he asked, obviously pained.

"He isn't here to fight. We need to cast a spell on you," I said quickly, and then realized that maybe I should have worked up to it a little more.

Under a lot of wet brown strands, an eyebrow raised in a sardonic arch. "You do not know magic, Cassie. Therefore I assume that what you meant to say is that he needs to cast a spell."

Wow. Less than thirty seconds and we were already to the «Cassie» stage. I wondered how long it would be before we hit Cassandra. Before I could say anything, four large vampires rushed into the room, guns drawn and scowls on their faces. They stopped inside the bathroom door, and stood there, looking blankly from Mircea to Pritkin to me.

Pritkin drew a gun, but Mircea didn't react, except to drape a towel around his waist. "Yes?" he asked politely.

"The wards," one of the vamps said, a little awkwardly. He was taller and more muscle-bound than the others, but judging by the energy he gave off, also probably the youngest. "They indicated an intruder." He scowled, his eyes on the gun in Pritkin's hand.

"They were mistaken," Mircea said smoothly, as if we weren't standing right there.

Three of the vamps immediately bowed. "Our apologies, my lord," one of them murmured formally. "I will have the wards checked before any erroneous reports are filed. Although it could take an hour or so."

"See that it does."

"Yes, sir."

Three of the vamps started for the door, but the bigger one hesitated. "My lord, with respect, the Consul said most definitely that any unregistered persons should be detained and reported as possible—"

"But there are no such persons here," Mircea repeated.

"My lord!" He swept an arm to indicate the scowling war mage and beat-up clairvoyant currently crowding Mircea's bathroom. "They are standing right—"

"Do you see anyone?" Mircea asked one of the other guards.

"No sir!" he replied, looking right at me.

"They must have done something to fool your minds! There are two mages right—"

Mircea made a small gesture, and the vamp suddenly stopped talking. His eyes darted around my general direction, but could no longer seem to find me. "But—but there were people here!" Mircea raised an eyebrow and the vamp's companions dragged him from the room.

I stared worriedly at the door. "Will they be back?"

"No. But they will have to report this, in an hour or so. I take it your business will need no more time than that? Because if so, I shall need to make further arrangements."

"I'm not really sure how long it will take," I said awkwardly. That depended on just how difficult he was about to be, among other things. "It's, uh, kind of complicated."

Suddenly he laughed and gestured for me to precede him into the bedroom. "With you, when is it ever anything else?"

Like the bathroom, the outer areas of the suite were lit with candles, not electricity. I remembered why: this was the night the war began, at least officially—the night MAGIC was attacked. The big wards were up, and they don't mesh well with electricity. The dim light didn't prevent me from seeing Mircea's inquiring look, however.

I sighed and glanced at Pritkin, who had settled himself into the chair Tami would later occupy. He shrugged unhelpfully. We'd been over this already—there was no way Mircea was going to agree without some kind of explanation. But I didn't have to like it.

"It's a long story," I said quickly, before I lost my nerve, "but basically, there was this accident with the timeline and the geis was doubled. And then it started growing or morphing or something, and I was going out of my mind until I inherited the Pythia's power. It gave me a reprieve, but you ended up half crazy and, well, in here." I held out the black box. "The Consul ordered you locked up so you wouldn't, um, run amok or…or anything."

"Basically?" Mircea repeated dryly.

"Well, yeah, pretty much. But I think I know why the counterspell won't work. Because the geis was put on two of you—one in the current timeline and one in the past. But since only one of you is present whenever we try the spell, it doesn't think you're all there. So to speak."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's like with the Graeae," I explained impatiently. "I accidentally set them loose and we've been trying to trap them again ever since. Only it seems they register as one person for the sake of any magic used on them, and if one of the three is missing, the spell won't work. So they just make sure that they are never all together anymore. Then we can cast the spell all day and nothing will happen."

"Let me see if I understand," Mircea said, pulling on another of Ming-de's little gifts. "You believe the geis views the two of me on whom it was placed as one person."

"Because you are."

"But because I hold the spell in two separate timelines, if it encounters only one of me, it does not view me as a complete person, and therefore will not work?"

"Exactly. We all have to be present at the same time—two of you and one of me, because I had it placed on me only once, but you had it done twice. Once by the mage who initiated the spell and once by me. At least, I hope I have that figured right, because if we need another me this is really going to get complicated."

"Going to?" Pritkin muttered.

"That would be why, in Paris, your dress did not harm me," Mircea mused, ignoring him. "Because, linked as we were by the geis, it saw us as one. And, of course, it would not harm its owner."

"Well, two-thirds of its owner, but yeah, that's it."

"I am in there, am I?" Mircea slipped onyx cuff links into the French cuffs on his shirt and eyed the box skeptically.

"We can let you out," I said dubiously, "but I don't think…that is, I'm not sure how you'll react. Marlowe said he couldn't control you, there at the end…"

"Can we get on with this?" Pritkin demanded.

Mircea ignored him, but he gave me back a frown. "Has it not occurred to you that the mage has deceived you? Perhaps in an attempt to get into this very room, past security, to assassinate me in a vulnerable position?"

"Do mages frequently do that?" I asked, surprised.

"A few dark ones have tried. After what happened to the last one, I have had a reprieve for some years." He glanced at Pritkin. "But perhaps the lesson has been forgotten, and must be taught again."

Pritkin leapt up from his chair. "If I intended to harm you, I have had more than enough time already!"

Mircea bared his teeth in an expression that in no way resembled a smile. "Feel free to try."

I refrained from throwing something, but it was close. I'd known bringing Pritkin was a bad idea, but after the debacle with Nick, I hadn't dared to trust anyone else. Not to mention that he was the only one who knew the spell. It had to be him, and it had to be now.

"I honestly don't know how much time you have left," I told Mircea quietly. "If we do nothing, the spell will run its course and you'll die anyway."

"The spell was never designed to kill," he reproved. "Not in its wildest permutation."

"No, but it can drive someone mad! And then the Consul will do the killing for you."

Mircea paused, his eyes sliding to the snare. He regarded it for a long moment, expressionless. I guess it would be a little weird—okay, a lot weird—to imagine yourself trapped in there when you were standing right beside it. "The Senate has many experts at its disposal. Surely they can find a solution."

"That's already been tried. Do you think the Consul would have had you imprisoned if there was an alternative?"

"But would not this counterspell remove the geis from me, as well as from your Mircea? And thereby change time?"

"No, we don't think so." It was one of the things I'd asked Pritkin before we left. "It's being cast on the three of us, to break the bond we all share. But it can't affect anyone who isn't here, which includes the Cassie of this time. So your link with her should remain and, uh, run its course."

"Leading to a great deal of trouble."

"I'm afraid so. But there's no other choice—not if you want the present timeline to continue."

"The one in which you are Pythia." I didn't answer, but I didn't have to. Mircea had known since the battle at Dante's that his crazy gamble had paid off. He looked thoughtful for a moment, but then his eyes slid to Pritkin and his expression hardened. "I know you think you are acting for the best, dulceata? but you do not know what our enemies are—"

Pritkin swore and, before I could stop him, said something in a low, guttural language that sounded awfully familiar. Before I could blink, before he even finished speaking, Mircea had pressed him against the wall, a fist in his shirt and murder in his eyes. "Mircea, no!" I grabbed his free arm. "I thought we were going to wait until he agreed!" I said to Pritkin, furious.

"He would never have agreed," he spat, "and it doesn't matter anyway."

"Doesn't matter? He could kill you!" Laying a spell on a master vamp without his permission was considered so stupid that there wasn't even a law against it. There didn't need to be—most who tried it didn't survive long enough for a trial.

"You don't understand. The geis—"

"What about it?"

Pritkin looked like he'd swallowed a handful of nails. "Can't you feel it? The spell didn't work. The geis is still there!"