Touch The Dark

Chapter 8

I was lying on the ground. It took me a second to realize that I was both back in my correct time and back in my own body. I would have cried with relief if I'd had the strength.

Billy Joe coalesced over me and he looked pissed. "Why didn't you tell me you could do that? I got trapped in there! I could have died!"

I didn't try to sit up, since the asphalt seemed to be doing a pretty violent version of the hula beneath me. "Don't be a drama queen. You're already dead."

"That was completely uncalled for."

"Cry me a river." Billy Joe was about to say something else but had to move because Louis-César bent over me and he wasn't about to get caught in any more bodies.

"Mademoiselle Palmer, are you all right? Can you hear me?"

"Don't touch me." I decided I wanted to sit up after all, mainly because my skirt had ridden up to the point that my pink lace undies were showing, but no way did I want him near me. Every time we touched, I ended up thrown through time. My senses had been trying to warn me earlier, but it had been impossible to tell the difference between the fear caused by his nearness and the general terror of being captured by the Senate. In any case, I'd had all the out-of-body experiences I needed for a very long time. "Where's Tomas?" I was still unhappy with him, but the thought that I might have accidentally killed him wasn't pleasant.

"He is here." Louis-César moved away about a foot, and I could see Tomas standing behind him. He was looking at the Frenchman with a weird expression, sort of stunned, almost like he didn't recognize him.

"Are you ok?" I asked him in concern. I hoped somebody was home, since I had no idea how to go about finding some wandering spirit. After a long moment, Tomas nodded, but he didn't speak. I decided that wasn't good. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Billy Joe pushed in between us, careful not to touch anybody, and glared at me. "He's fine. He came around a few minutes ago when you decided to rejoin us." He scowled. "What's the idea of going on vacation when there's a crisis on?"

I ignored him. "Give me a hand up." Tomas thought I was talking to him and bent over, forcing Billy Joe to dodge out of the way. I sat and looked about. There were eleven dead wererats, including Jimmy. His glassy rat eyes stared at me accusingly through the dissipating smoke, and I swore. "Damn it! I wanted to talk to him!" I rounded on Pritkin, who was standing with his arms raised theatrically, almost like he was pushing on something, only there was nothing there but air. "You killed him before I could ask about my father!"

Pritkin wasn't paying me any attention. His eyes were focused outside our circle and he didn't look good. His face was red, his eyes were glazed and the cords on the sides of his neck were bulging. When he spoke, it was in a strangled whisper. "I can't hold much longer." That didn't make sense until I noticed a faint blue tinge to the air around us and realized that we were standing inside the mage's shields. He'd created a defensive bubble around us by expanding his own protection, but it looked thin and weak, not like his old shields at all. Perhaps he'd stretched it too far; personal shields were designed for one person only. He was right; it wasn't going to last.

"We have to get Cassie out of here," Tomas said, and I noticed that his face also looked strained. Not as if he were bench-pressing a few hundred pounds like Pritkin, but as if he was terrified. He wasn't watching the mage, though, or anything beyond him. He was looking at me.

Louis-César was the only one who seemed normal, with no visible signs of strain on that pleasant face. "Mademoiselle, if you have recovered sufficiently, may I suggest that you return to MAGIC? Tomas will take you."

Pritkin mumbled something and a glowing symbol wrote itself in the air for an instant, so close I could have reached out and touched it, before dissolving into the shields. I knew what he was doing since one of the mages at Tony's had set up a perimeter ward on his vault using words of power. I had been intrigued that he could build a protective spell on something as intangible as a spoken word, but he'd explained that he was using it as a focus for his own energy.

Magic comes from many sources. The Fey and, to a much lesser degree, lycanthropes are said to get theirs from nature, drawing on the massive energy of the planet as it moves at terrifying speeds through space. Gravity, sunlight, the pull of the moon, can all be converted to energy if you know how. I've even heard speculation that the Earth generates a magical field the same way it does a gravitational one, and that someday, someone will figure out how to tap it. That is the holy grail of modern magical theory, though, and no one has managed to do it so far—although countless hours have been lost trying. Until the mystery is solved, human magic users can borrow only a tiny amount from nature; most of their power has to come from themselves. Except for dark-magic users, who can borrow tremendous magical energy by stealing the lives of others or from the netherworld, but they pay a huge price for it.

Some mages are inherently stronger than others, but most use some kind of cheat to enhance their abilities. Most have talismans to gather natural energy like batteries over long periods, to be disbursed at the mage's command, like Billy's necklace. Some form links with other magic users that allow them to borrow power in time of need, like the Silver Circle. Others enlist as allies magical creatures who can absorb natural energy better than they. I didn't know what Pritkin might be using besides his own power, but it didn't appear to be working too well. His shields glowed a bit brighter after the symbol touched them but almost immediately dulled again. Something was sapping their strength, and at a very fast rate.

I looked around but couldn't find the source of the threat. The parking lot looked quiet if not exactly peaceful—the burning hulk of a couple of nearby cars showed dimly through the dispersing blue smoke. I narrowed my eyes at Louis-César but doubted he'd tell me much. Luckily, I didn't need him. "Billy? What's going on?"

"To whom are you speaking?" Louis-César began to look less than calm for the first time. "She may have a concussion," he told Tomas. "Be careful with her."

I ignored him because Billy was floating near Pritkin and he'd started gesturing wildly at him, then all around, then out at the night. "Billy! What in the world are you doing? It's not like anyone else can hear you—spit it out!"

"Your familiar cannot help you, sybil." The voice came out of the dark, and I noticed that the five vamps lounging around the outer edges of the lot had been joined by a friend. He was hard to see in the predawn light, but the feeling emanating off him wasn't nice. It made me glad I couldn't see his face. "I have warded against him. No one can help you, but then, you do not need it. You are in no danger, sybil. Come with me and I guarantee that no one will harm you. We value your gifts and want to help you develop them, not to keep you hiding and afraid all your life. Come to me, and I will let your friends, if they are friends, go in peace."

"My name's Cassie. You've got the wrong girl." I wasn't interested in a conversation, but Billy Joe was trying to tell me something and I had to give him time to play charades.

"I used your proper title, Miss Palmer, although your name is interesting, too. Did anyone ever tell you its significance?" He laughed. "Don't tell me they have allowed you to grow up completely in ignorance? How lacking in foresight. We will not make the same mistake."

"Cassandra was a seer in Greek mythology. The lover of Apollo." Eugenie had made sure we did myths of the Greeks and Romans as part of my schoolwork—apparently it was an important part of a young lady's education back in her day—and I hadn't complained because I thought it was kind of fun. I'd forgotten most of it but remembered my namesake. I'd thought Cassandra a good name for a clairvoyant, until now.

"Not quite, my dear." The voice was full and rich and might have been attractive if it hadn't been accompanied by that vague, underlying something that reminded me of rotten fruit: overripe and mealy. "Apollo, the god of all seers, loved the beautiful human Cassandra, but she did not return his affections. She pretended to love, long enough to gain the gift of foreknowledge; then she ran away. He finally found her, of course—like you, she could not hide forever—and exacted his revenge. She could keep the gift, he said, but she would see only tragic events, and no one would believe her when she prophesied until it was too late."

I shivered; I couldn't help it. His words cut a little too close to the bone. He somehow seemed to know he'd made a hit, and laughed again. "Don't worry, lovely Cassandra. I will teach you that there can be beauty in the dark."

"What is going on?" I hissed at Billy, more to block out that seductive, awful voice than because I expected an answer.

The dark mage responded, even though he shouldn't have been able to hear a whisper that far away. "The white knight's wards are failing, sybil. We will talk face-to-face soon."

I decided that was not a talk I'd enjoy. I glanced at Billy Joe. "Do you remember those three days after I left Philly the last time?" He stared at me blankly for a second, then violently shook his head and started making wild gestures. Yep, he remembered all right.

I knew only one power word. It wasn't a weapon but was designed to add stamina in times of emergency by drawing on the body's reserves—all its reserves. It was dangerous to use, since if the power it gave ran out before the threat was over, you'd be as weak as a kitten when the bad guys caught you, but it packed a hell of a punch while it lasted. I'd used it to stay awake for more than three days straight after fleeing from Tony the second time. I'd researched it and practiced with one of the rogue mages at court, since I'd known from experience that it would take seventy-two hours for the trace charms on Tony's wards to wear off. I'd gotten lucky the first time I left—I fell asleep on a bus, and my pursuers hadn't been able to tell which of the half dozen vehicles that had just left the crowded station was mine. By the time they picked up the trail, I'd woken up, panicked and switched buses. I managed to stay ahead of them for the required three days, but I'd had several close calls and hadn't wanted to try that trick twice. Tony's guys had gotten a lot of practice tracking me during my first disappearance, and this time I wouldn't have the value of surprise.

My plan had worked, but the price was high: when the jolt finally wore off, I slept for a week and lost ten pounds. I'd have probably lost a lot more—like my life—except that Billy Joe and I had figured out that the energy exchange between us worked both ways. He could give me juice as well as take it, and right now he was tanked.

Billy drifted lower, increasing the arm waving and scowling. He was obviously trying to tell me that he didn't want to talk out loud, and there was only one alternative. I sighed.

"Come on in." A warm wash settled over me, and Billy flowed inside, giving me a replay of him digging his mother's grave in Ireland as he settled down.

"Have you lost your mind?!"

"Just tell me if it will work—can we reinforce the shields?"

"What do you mean, 'we'?"

I sighed. "Don't bitch; you know you can spare it! Can we do it?"

"Shit if I know!" Billy was at his acidic best. "I don't go playing around with words of power! If this thing backfires, it could be bad—real bad."

"It worked last time."

"You almost died last time!"

"Why, Billy, I didn't know you cared. Now, answer the question."

"I don't know," he repeated stubbornly. "In theory, I should be able to redirect the power outward instead of inward, but—"

"Great." I focused on the shimmering shields, ignoring the fact that Louis-César and Tomas were having some sort of argument. It had been a long time since I tried this, and if I screwed it up, I might not get another chance. Pritkin was almost purple, and only the whites of his eyes were showing.

"Wait! I need to think a minute! Hold your horses—" Billy kept talking, but I tuned him out. We didn't have time for a prolonged discussion. I couldn't extend my ward like Pritkin had done; if his shields disappeared altogether before I could strengthen them, we were toast. I concentrated and spoke the only power word I knew.

Energy flowed through me to the point that I thought I was going to levitate right off the asphalt. A second later Billy carved a glowing gold rune in the air that hovered in front of my face for a minute, shiny and bright and perfect. But I didn't have much time to admire it, since I was knocked flat on my ass a second later when the energy left me in the same bone-jarring rush in which it had come. I suddenly, vividly recalled why I didn't do this kind of thing often.

I rolled onto my side and groaned, trying to keep from throwing up. I had the definite feeling I wasn't going to make it. Then Billy started to feed me some of his stolen power. I hadn't expected to feel anything—when he'd helped me out before, I hadn't known about it until after the fact—but this I felt. Sparkling, warm, wonderful energy coursed through me, and I sat up abruptly. Damn! I could get addicted to this. Billy's laughter echoed in my head and I grinned. No wonder he'd been zooming around like a comet earlier.

"What did you do?" Pritkin was also sitting up, looking bewildered. He focused on me. "You reinforced my shields?" He stared in incredulity while I admired my and Billy's handiwork. Pretty blue walls, so opaque they could probably have been seen by norms and so thick I could have driven a car around inside their ring, glimmered under the halogen lights. Pritkin' must ward with water, because there were ripples like gentle waves spreading through them.

"We do good work," I congratulated my helper. "And I don't even feel like puking anymore."

"What did you do?!" Pritkin grabbed me by the arms and my ward sizzled slightly. He let go, glowering and rubbing his hands. "You cannot have that much power—no human can!"

"Maybe I borrowed it."

His eyes narrowed. "From whom, or what?"

I didn't feel like trying to explain. "Would someone please tell me what's going on?" Before anyone could answer, the shields began to spit and hiss. What looked like a black cloud had begun nibbling at them, swallowing that beautiful power in tiny bites, like a swarm of locusts descending on a prairie. Okay, maybe we weren't out of the woods yet.

I decided to get some answers from the one person here who would tell me the truth. I went inside and found Billy. "Spill it."

"I can't believe you did that! Do you have any idea what would have happened if I hadn't been able to channel that much power all at once? It could have ricocheted off the inside of the shield and fried all of us!"

I interrupted. "Yell at me later. Just tell me what's going on, fast."

"Mages from the two circles are fighting, and we're stuck in the middle. How's that for brief?"

"Okay, now the version that makes sense."

I heard something odd and realized it sounded like grinding teeth. I hadn't known he could do that. "I drifted through the dark mage after you came back to your body, but he caught on and warded against me. I don't think I can do it again. But before he kicked me out, I learned that the Black Circle is allied with Rasputin, along with a lot of other groups who're not happy with the status quo. They seem to think he's got a real chance to take it all, and they don't wanna miss out on the spoils. And, even more fun, it seems like Tony's also buddy-buddy with them. He's been selling magic users to the light elves, and he knows that if anyone finds out at MAGIC, he'll be lucky if all they do is stake him."

"What? You aren't making sense." I'd only just found out Faerie wasn't a myth. I certainly didn't understand enough about it to follow Billy's ramblings.

"It's a long story. All you need to know is that Tony wants protection. The dark elves have traced the problem to him, and they aren't happy. They can't afford for the light Fey to outbreed them, but with fertile magic users to help with the population shortage, that's what's going to happen fairly soon. And then the light will rule all of Faerie."

"But that's good, right?" I didn't know how many of my nursery school stories were based on fact, but if the dark Fey really were composed of trolls, banshees, goblins and the like, wouldn't it be better for the light to win?

Billy sighed. "You and I gotta have a long talk sometime. No, it would not be good. I don't trust any of the Fey, but at least the dark have rules. The light have been getting more and more anarchic lately—in the past few centuries, I mean—and there's no telling what they'll do if there is nothing to balance them. That's why that demented pixie was here. She couldn't give a damn about enslaved humans normally, but if the trade is going to benefit the light, she wants to stop it. Anyway, the point for us is that Rasputin has promised to protect Tony in return for him killing you. It wasn't a hard sell."

"I bet." So I had yet another enemy. I was going to have to start keeping a list. "Why does Rasputin want to kill me?"

"He sees you as a threat, but I don't know why. The mage may know, but I didn't get it. But I did find out that Rasputin called Tony's boys about half an hour ago and said you were on your way here. That's probably why Jimmy was still alive. They were too busy deploying every spare thug around the casino to catch you to bother killing him. Only nobody expected you to just waltz in the front entrance. They were watching the side and back entries, so you threw them a little." Well, at least that explained why I'd been able to stroll around deserted hallways.

Something occurred to me. "I didn't even know I was coming until right before I left. How did Rasputin figure it out?"

"Good question."

I decided to leave it for the moment. "But why would Tony defy Mircea and the Circle by something as risky as slaving?" Dealing in magic users was not unknown, but most people had decided that the huge profits to be made by selling powerful telepaths or wardsmiths wasn't worth the penalties imposed if the Circle caught up with you. I'd heard Tony himself say it was a game for fools. So what had happened to change his mind? "Mircea will kill him."

"Not if Rasputin kills Mircea and the rest of the Senate first. In that case, Tony gets a Senate seat, out from under the control of his master, and no more dues to pay. Power and wealth, the usual suspects."

"Tony isn't strong enough to stand on his own, even without Mircea. He's third level at best; you know that."

"Maybe he thinks Ras'll help him. Or maybe he's been holding out. He's old enough to have advanced to second level if he's ever gonna do it. Maybe he didn't tell anybody, 'cause that would have made Mircea watch him a whole lot closer. He could've been waiting for a chance to break with him but didn't dare move without a big-time ally."

"Which he now has."

"Looks that way. So, partner, whaddya wanna do?"

"What exactly are we up against?"

Billy Joe sighed theatrically. It was the sound he makes when he knows I'm not going to like what he has to say. "Two dark mages, five vamps here and fifteen others spread around the area, and at least six are master level. Oh, and eight norms armed to the teeth."

"What?!"

"Well, whaddya expect? Vegas is one of Tony's strongholds. And more will be coming—I saw another half dozen norms and eight or nine vamps in the basement. As soon as they figure out that you've been sighted, they'll be along. This place is about to get very busy."

I sat there, stunned. "We're screwed."

"That's the consensus. The plan right now is to have Tomas grab you and fly outta here, while Louis-César and the mage stay behind and try to slow everybody down long enough for you to get away."

"That's suicide!"

"Yeah, and the worst part is, it probably won't even work. We're surrounded, darlin'. Ain't no way Tomas is gonna make it past all of them."

"Shit." I thought for a second. "What about reinforcements?"

I was interrupted by Louis-César yelling in my ear. "Mademoiselle, can you hear me?"

I jerked away before he could touch me. "What do you want? I'm kind of busy."

He looked at me oddly, but he moderated his voice. "You have to go now, mademoiselle. I am sorry, but we cannot give you more time to recover."

"I'm not going anywhere. Tomas will never get past a gauntlet like that and you know it. Two black knights, six masters and at least fourteen other vamps? Come on."

I found out what Louis-César looked like when someone had rattled his cool. "How can you possibly know what we are facing?"

"Her ghost servant told her," Pritkin said, and I noticed that he was back on his knees, concentrating on the rapidly evaporating shields.

"You can see Billy?" I was surprised. Very few people could.

"No," Pritkin said through clenched teeth. His jaw was tight enough that the small muscle on the side stood out. "But I was told what you can do. At least, some of it." Sweat ran in rivers down his face, soaking his shirt, and he looked at me desperately. "If you have any more tricks, I suggest you use them. I can only slow the process; I can't stop it."

I sighed. Why did I think I was going to regret this? "Give me a minute."

I went back inside to find out if Billy Joe had any bright ideas. He did, but I didn't like it. "I can't possess the mage 'cause he's warded against me. But you're far stronger in spirit form than I am, 'cause you're alive. If we could duplicate what happened—"

"No! No way am I possessing anybody else! What if I can't get back? What if I get stuck? Come up with something else." I hadn't enjoyed being Louis-César and I definitely didn't want to find out what the inside of a dark-magic user felt like.

"I don't think you'll get stuck. He's a mage. Once you get in, you ain't gonna have much time before he forces you out. But you won't need that long. If you can distract him for a couple minutes, I'm betting our three heroes can deal with the vamps."

"Three against twenty? Don't you think that's being a little optimistic?"

"You just don't wanna do this."

"Damn straight."

"You got a better idea?"

I swallowed thickly. There had to be an alternative. The Senate had sent three powerful operatives merely to drag me back from Dante's, so they wanted me pretty badly. When we didn't come back and nobody reported in, they were sure to send reinforcements, but there was no way to tell how long that would take. "How far away is sunrise? Maybe we can hold Tony's guys off until they have to duck for cover. Louis-César should be able to handle a little sun, and I know Tomas can."

Billy Joe laughed, but it didn't sound happy. "Sure, and you think our mage is gonna last that long?"

I glanced at Pritkin and couldn't argue the point. His eyes were bulging and several blood vessels must have popped, because it looked like he was crying red tears. But I was in no position to help him. I'd seen a lot of magic worked through the years, but I'd just performed the only bit I knew, and Billy Joe couldn't replace that kind of energy loss twice. But if I didn't do something soon, my trip to get revenge on Jimmy might end up costing three lives.

"Okay." I gulped some air. "Do it."

I couldn't see Billy Joe when he was inside me, but I could feel his emotions better than I could read his face, and he was skeptical. "You sure? 'Cause I don't wanna have to hear about this for eternity if you end up a spirit permanently. I know you. You'd haunt me."

"I thought you said that won't happen!"

"I said it probably won't. I'm new at this."

"Like you asked me, have you got another plan? Because if not—" That was as far as I got before Billy Joe crashed into me like a linebacker tackling a quarterback. He kept pushing until I would have called the whole thing off, done anything, said anything, to stop that awful pressure, except I couldn't move. It was like getting trapped between a steamroller and the side of a mountain; there was nowhere to go. A second after I decided I was going to die if the pressure didn't stop, I was suddenly flying free. It was a major relief, but the nice, floaty feeling lasted only about a second before I slammed into something that felt like a brick wall. It hurt so badly that I would have thought every bone in my body was broken, except that it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't have a body.

I heard a laugh echo around me. "Oh, no, little ghost. I already told you. You won't trick me again so easily. Go home to your mistress before I send you somewhere you won't like."

I realized what the wall was; it represented the mage's wards, and they were a lot more formidable than I'd expected. But I couldn't follow his advice. I didn't know how to get back without Billy Joe's help, so I had to go forward. Getting through those wards was matter of life and death, literally.

You can shield with anything as long as it has meaning for you: rock, metal, water, even air. It's simply a way of visualizing and manipulating your power. Eugenie had shielded with mist, which I'd thought was weird, but it seemed to work for her. The mage's wards were strong, but of a fairly normal type: like me, he imagined a wall, only his was wood and mine has always been fire. When I concentrated, I was able to see a fortress of huge trees, like California redwoods, stretching up so high that their tops were lost to sight. In reality, of course, they didn't have «tops»; I knew that wherever I went along his ward line, I would see this same, impenetrable wall.

I looked back to where I had «landed» and saw that an imprint of my body had been burned into the logs, splintering the wood all around it from the impact. That must have been how he had felt me, and it gave me an idea. I hadn't ever heard of anyone doing this before, but then, that went for most of the stuff that had happened to me today. I concentrated, not on his wards, but on mine.

I don't usually feel my wards. The technique is so ingrained that it's like walking upright: it's hard when you're nine months old, but by the time you're an adult, you don't have to think to cross a room. But now I took a few seconds to concentrate, and the familiar curtain of flame rose up around me, a comforting warmth instead of a searing heat. I focused and, slowly, a tiny tendril of fire, shaped like a child's hand, reached out from my ward to touch the nearest log. It caught like dry tinder touched by summer lightning, and soon a whole section of the wall was ablaze. I vaguely heard the mage cursing me, making threats and swearing to bind me to the lowest hall of Hell for eternity. I ignored him. It was taking everything I had to keep the fire blazing and refuse to allow new wood to knit up around the old. I didn't have the strength for smart comebacks.

Finally, after what felt like a week, a tiny hole appeared in the wood. I didn't wait for it to get bigger, but squeezed through. It was a tight fit, and it felt like my sides were being scraped into bloody lines by splinters, even though I knew that was impossible. All of a sudden, the smoke and fire of the burning forest melted away and I could see. The dark parking lot spread around me and a breeze blew across my face. Pritkin, Tomas and Louis-César were across the lot, and my body was looking at me with wide eyes.

I yelled at Billy Joe. "It's okay! I'm in control!"

"Then drop the damned attack! Pritkin's about to have a stroke!"

I looked around in confusion, then peered inside. "I'm not doing anything!" It was true, as far as I could tell. I'd assumed that taking over would break the mage's concentration and solve the problem. But I could see that Pritkin's shields had shrunk to the point where they barely covered the three men and would likely fail any second. "What now?"

I saw my body bend over and whisper to Pritkin. He looked across at me and I waved. His eyes got big. He said something, but I couldn't make it out. "What?"

"The bracelet!" My voice bellowed across the parking lot as Billy Joe yelled at the top of my lungs. "He said to destroy it!"

A dark shape started running at me from across the lot. It had the same deeply unhealthy feeling I'd received from the mage, so I didn't need introductions. Somehow, the other dark knight had figured out what was going on, and he didn't like it.

I looked down and found a bracelet on the mage's left wrist. It was silver and formed of what looked like tiny, interlocking daggers. I couldn't find a clasp; it seemed to have been soldered onto his arm. I looked across at Pritkin and saw desperation on his face. Damn it, this thing had to go now. When tugging didn't work, I bit it, tearing at it with his teeth, concentrating on the bit where two of the daggers came together. Finally, after his fingers were a bloody mess, it came loose.

I didn't have to ask whether I'd gotten it right, because Pritkin slumped to the ground, panting in relief, and the vamps around him sprang into action. Louis-César sent a knife flying into the vamp at my side, which would have taken off the head except that it collided with the oversized steel choker he was wearing. It didn't buy him much time, though. Tomas held out a hand and I finally got to see what had happened back in the storeroom. The vamp dropped to his knees and gave a choked gurgle, and his heart literally leapt out of his chest. It went sailing across to Tomas, who caught it like it was a slightly oversized baseball.

The other dark knight was less than two car lengths away from me. He stopped and raised a hand, and suddenly I couldn't move. But before I could panic, the three witches I'd helped free from the casino stepped out from behind a parked van and formed a circle around him. I was about to yell at them to run for it, when the mage suddenly collapsed, screaming, and the pressure on me let up.

It was a relief, but I didn't feel better for long. What felt like an icy stream of water began lapping at my feet. I couldn't see anything, but my wards started to sizzle out around the bottoms. If I concentrated, I could see a stream rising up from the ground to flow around me. Clever mage; he could shield with more than one element. And my fire didn't seem to be doing so hot against his water. As the flames went out, tiny tendrils of wood, some bearing twigs with leaves, began to wind up my metaphysical legs. Great. The dark mage was going to be seriously pissed off when he got back in charge, which at the rate he was going would take all of about two minutes.

"What's wrong with you?" A vampire ran up to me. I recognized him vaguely from Tony's court, a big, shaggy blond whom I'd always thought needed a tan—his surfer looks didn't go well with dead white skin. "You said you could neutralize him! He'll wipe the floor with us!" I followed his gesture to where the fight had resumed big-time. I wondered which «he» the guy meant, because all three looked pretty deadly to me.

Pritkin might be a hostile son of a bitch, but he was a damn good guy to have in a fight. He was on the ground, but his amazing hovering knives were back. In fact, it looked like his whole arsenal was on the move. As I watched, he blew apart a vamp with a shotgun blast while five knives went hurtling into another, one almost severing his head. The vamp must have been a master, because he didn't go down, but the animated knives followed him about, sticking in and pulling out like a swarm of especially lethal bees. He swatted at them as blood started to pour out of a couple dozen deep cuts, but they kept coming back. He roared in rage but preferred getting sliced to ribbons to running. But a couple of other vamps, who were being pursued by grenades, chose not to follow his example. I decided if that's what Pritkin fought like when half dead, I really didn't want to see him at full strength.

Tomas was doing okay, too, tying up two vamps in a knife fight that was so fast and furious I couldn't see any of it, except for an occasional blade flashing in the parking lot lights. Several others lay around him with the now familiar gaping holes in their chests. Louis-César, meanwhile, had decided to take the attack on the offensive all by himself. While Pritkin and Tomas kept the attackers busy, he charged the cluster of vamps around me. The beach bum must not have heard of the Frenchman's reputation, because he leapt for him and lasted all of about a second. That wicked-looking rapier was back in action, and skewering him didn't cause Louis-César even to break his stride. He threw a knife at the second dark mage, but it bounced off him like he was wearing body armor. But whatever the three witches were doing was having more of an effect. The mage was on the ground, scrambling for purchase as ineffectively as a beetle turned upside down, as they began closing in, chanting something in unison.

I was initially pleased to see the Frenchman, since it took only one look at him for the remaining vamps around me to take off, but I quickly changed my mind. I blinked, and Louis-César's bloody blade was somehow under my chin. The look in his eyes made it very clear that he had no idea who I was. "Your Circle made a mistake challenging us," he told me calmly, as if we were chatting at a party. "Fortunately, monsieur, I do not need you alive to send a declaration of war. It should be sufficient that I have your body left somewhere your people frequent."

"Louis-César, no!" I couldn't speak for fear of jamming his rapier farther into my throat, but the voice coming from behind him was mine anyway, as was the hand clutching his sword arm. It looked like Billy Joe had decided to earn his keep.

"Mademoiselle, please go back to Tomas. This will not be pleasant."

"Tomas is kinda busy right now," Billy replied, "and anyway, I'm not Cassie. She's in there." He pointed at me. "And I don't know what'll happen if you kill the body while she's in it. Maybe she'll come back here, but maybe not."

Louis-César's voice softened slightly. "You are delusional, mademoiselle. You may have a concussion and must not exert yourself. Give me a moment and I will escort you from here myself."

I swallowed. I knew that with his strength he could run the rapier through me even with Billy Joe hanging off his arm. I could feel the mage panic, too, and his fear fuelled the battle of wills we were having. The tide of what felt like chilly water was up to my knees.

"Billy! How do I get out of here?" The movement of my mouth pushed the edge of the rapier into the mage's skin, and I could feel a warm stream of blood begin to trickle down his neck. Someone screamed in my head, but I ignored it.

"I don't know." Billy Joe was gripping Louis-César's arm with both hands and practically hanging off it. Sweat was pouring down my face, but it didn't look like he was making any difference at all. "I'm stuck in here until you get back. Your body knows it'll die without a spirit, so it's got a death grip on me. There's no way for me to help you."

"I can't believe you talked me into this!"

"How the hell do you think I feel? I don't want to end up inside a woman!" He paused. "Well, at least not that way."

Louis-César was losing patience. In a swift movement that didn't cause the rapier to waver even slightly, he pulled Billy Joe against him. "You may wish to close your eyes mademoiselle. I do not wish to cause you further distress."

"I think it's safe to say that killin' her counts as distressing," Billy Joe choked out, but Louis-César wasn't paying him any attention. He'd written me off as a hysterical female, and that was that. If I ever got out of this mess alive, I'd show him hysterical.

I only had one idea, and it was a long shot. "Don't kill me! I know about Françoise!" It was all I could think of, the only fact about Louis-César that I knew that the mage probably didn't, but it didn't seem to make much of an impression.

"You will not save yourself with feeble lies, Jonathan. I know your tricks from of old."

"What about Carcassonne? Huh? What about that damn torture room? I—you—saw her burn! We were talking about it a few hours ago!"

"Enough! You die." Billy Joe kicked upwards at the last second and hit the blade so that it went through the mage's shoulder instead of his heart, but it hurt like a bitch. I yelled and wrenched back, but the blade was so long that I was still trapped on it like a butterfly on a pin.

I finally got some help when a small vial flew into my hand. Apparently Mr. Mage had decided we had a common cause. It looked like one of the row of small containers Pritkin had strapped to his belt, but this had leapt out of some inner pocket. The cool water was up to my waist, and I didn't know what would happen if it overwhelmed me, but at the moment I was more concerned with Louis-César. I didn't try to resist the impulses that ran through my brain, but thrust the vial at him.

"I will gut you before you can say the incantation," he promised, but I noticed that he eyed the tiny vial with a certain amount of respect.

"I don't need the incantation at this range. Kill me, and you die, too. So does she." The words appeared in my brain, but they weren't mine. I said them anyway. They seemed to have an effect, for Louis-César hesitated.

The mage must have been waiting for that reaction, because he took the opportunity to step up the inner fight. I was suddenly up to my neck in icy water. "Billy! He's winning, what do I do?"

"I'm thinking… let him?" Billy Joe didn't sound very sure of himself, but he'd done this a lot more than me.

"What?"

If he answered, I didn't hear, because the water closed over my head. But, instead of drowning as I'd half expected, I was abruptly flying again. I landed hard, and the disorientation I'd felt when Tomas and I returned was nothing to what hit me a second later. It was like there were two of me, each going in a different direction, tearing me apart in the process. I screamed and someone tightened their hold around my waist. My blood was pounding in my veins as if it was about to burst out of the top of my head, and the pain was awful. It felt like every migraine I'd ever had all rolled into one. I wanted to pass out, but no such luck. I stayed conscious as the world rocked wildly around me like a carnival ride gone crazy, until I threw up on the asphalt.

"Cassie, Cassie!" Billy Joe appeared before me, his eyes so wide that I could see a strip of white all around the pupil. It took me a second to realize that they were his eyes, and that he was in his usual gambler-cowboy-ladies' man getup instead of my skin. His ruffled shirt was bright red, his hazel eyes as clear and sharp as if he hadn't been dead for a century and a half. At that moment, I really believed I could reach out and touch him and he'd be solid. Then it occurred to me that it was my energy making his eyes shine like that and flushing his cheeks. Bastard. I would have told him off for draining me almost dry in my hour of need, but I was way too sick. It felt like someone had reached inside and turned my stomach inside out. I wanted to throw up again but didn't have the energy.

Louis-César picked me up as if I weighed as much as a rag doll, and I looked around, bewildered. How could he pick me up with only one arm? Didn't he need the other one to hold the rapier on the mage? Only there was no mage and no body. It was just me, a master vampire and a really tanked-up ghost; nothing to worry about.

We rejoined Pritkin and Tomas, me being carried because I was in no shape to walk. I was having trouble figuring out which way was up, since it seemed to be changing on a regular basis. I did notice that Tomas was busy bespelling a rather large group of people, including several police officers, who had come by to see what all the commotion was about. I hadn't known he could trick multiple norms at once. Come to think of it, I hadn't known anyone could. Just another clue that I wasn't dealing with a run-of-the-mill vamp. No, those types were scattered about all over the landscape, interspersed with the dead weres. The hearts and heads were several feet away from the bodies, but at least they all appeared to be there.

Pritkin was stowing away his arsenal, which hovered in front of him in an obedient little line, each weapon waiting its turn. He looked at me with narrowed eyes as he wiped off and tucked away his bloody knives. "You possessed a member of the Black Circle," he said, as if this was news, "and have powerful witches in your service. Who were they?"

I glanced back to where the women had been, but only the second dark knight was there, lying at an unnatural angle, his bone white face turned up to the first rays of the sun. His eyes were open, but I doubted he saw anything. I realized that they must have killed him, but at the moment it didn't matter much to me.

"I don't know." My voice came out all croaky, which considering the amount of abuse my vocal cords had taken lately, shouldn't have been a surprise. But it was.

"You are not human." It wasn't a question, and Pritkin looked like he expected me to sprout another head at any moment.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not a demon," I told him. I seemed to be having to say that a lot lately. Probably not a good sign.

"Then what are you?"

Billy Joe floated by and gave me a thumbs-up and a cheeky grin. "I'm gonna check out some stuff. See you later."

I sighed. It was barely sunrise, hardly the best time to get into trouble even in Vegas. So why was I absolutely certain Billy Joe would manage? "I'm your friendly neighborhood clairvoyant," I told Pritkin wearily. "Cross my palm with silver, meester, and I'll tell you your fortune. Only" — I was interrupted by a huge yawn—"you probably won't like it." I snuggled closer into the wall of warm cotton behind me and drifted off.