Dark Awakening

“It’s a good thing you didn’t try,” said an unfamiliar voice.



Vlad watched with interest as a rangy, dark-haired man appeared in a shadowy corner of the dimly lit room, leaning against the bookcases. Intense silver eyes watched him unblinkingly.



Marco roared an obscenity and started for the intruder, but Vlad held up a hand. At the simple gesture, his well-trained butler stilled, though his expression betrayed his unhappiness about it.



“Leave us, Marco. It’s all right.”



His hulking, would-be protector hesitated, his golden eyes darting around the room. “But, sir, the others—”



“Are in here somewhere, I’m sure. Consider it a lesson, Marco. Cats left on the doorstep will generally find another way in.” He waved the butler off. “Go. I’ll call if we need anything.”



When the door had been shut, Vlad turned his full attention to his glaring visitor. He was impressed, despite himself, at how easily he’d gotten in. But then, he knew very well about being underestimated.



“Have a seat. Your friends as well. MacGillivray, isn’t it?”



The other two materialized from behind pieces of furniture, one who could have been MacGillivray’s brother and another who did indeed look to have been in fight, though the wounds were close to healed. Both looked to MacGillivray for a signal, marking him as their leader.



Interesting.



The ornery Cait Sith shook his head. “Thank you, but there’s no time. I’m Tynan MacGillivray. These are my blood brothers Jaden and Damien. We’ve come because the Ptolemy have taken Lily Quinn, the woman Anura told you about.” He paused. “She’s Lilith’s heir.”



Excitement threatened to bubble over, but years of practiced restraint kept it in check. Vlad feigned polite interest. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe,” he said smoothly. “Of course, if you have proof, that’s a different story.”



Tynan’s eyes narrowed. “You sent your thugs after her on Anura’s word. Mine’s not good enough for you?”



Vlad shrugged, recognizing both the temper and the pride blazing at him through those angry slits. “I don’t know you. All I know is that your house is about to declare war on me. Why should I believe you?”



People rarely surprised him, but Tynan managed it when he cleared most of the room in a single, fluid leap, grabbed him by the throat, and pinned him to his leather wingback chair. No one had dared do such a thing in ages. Vlad went still with shock, torn between fury and amusement. He could have turned the tables and had this upstart and his head parted from each other in a heartbeat… he was pretty sure. It was that uncertainty that held his interest and stayed his hand.



“Careful, cat. I didn’t get to rule a dynasty for nothing.”



“I don’t have time for careful either,” Tynan growled, but he released his grip and took a small step back. “Lily is the real thing. I’ve seen her power, and she’s told me about the vision she has, about the end of the Lilim. And”—he hesitated—“I had my own vision of Lilith just last night. Like a dream, but not. I understand what’s happening now, but it isn’t going to matter. The Ptolemy have taken Lily. Arsinöe thinks she’s just a Seer and wants to use her to have a vision of your people using the Mulo against hers. Proof to launch a war.”



Vlad cursed softly. “Is that what this is about? A Mulo? She really thinks I’d be fool enough to use a Romany curse against her kind? That’s about as subtle as putting my intentions on a flashing sign outside!”



“She hates the Dracul. Not just hates, but she also wants you wiped from the face of the night,” the one called Jaden pointed out. “Maybe that wouldn’t be enough, but she’s isolated herself with a bunch of highbloods who are happy to feed her paranoia.” He looked at Tynan. “One highblood in particular.”



“Her people are dying,” Tynan said. “It was easy to play her. It doesn’t excuse half of what she’s done, but she’s not the source of this. If you want to avoid what’s coming, we need your help.”



Stunned, Vlad looked at the three of them, lowbloods with enough bravery to stand against the house that had traditionally enslaved them even when there was little hope of success. The Ptolemy were a force unto themselves.



“Say I believe you,” Vlad said slowly. “What do you offer in return for what you ask? Because if I help you and fail, my dynasty burns.”



“It burns regardless if you refuse to help us,” Tynan pointed out. “Nero, the Ptolemy behind this, will make it happen. He’s not the sort of man who leaves anything to chance. I’m sure he had a contingency plan for Lily actually showing up. And now that he knows what she is, I don’t know what he’ll do to her.”



Hearing the concern in Tynan’s voice, Vlad lifted an eyebrow. “You do this for the woman, then.”



“My reasons are my own. They don’t matter to you. Help us, and you avoid war and gain an important ally.”



“You can promise me this alliance on the Lilim’s behalf, then? Your word is binding?”



“It is,” Tynan replied without hesitation.



“And if I say no?” Vlad asked, calmly folding one ankle over his knee and leaning back into the chair.



The cat’s eyes flashed. “Then if your dynasty survives, which I very much doubt, you will have gained an enemy far more powerful than the Ptolemy. That is something I can also promise you.”



The tension in the room was oppressive. Vlad had no doubt the three of them would fight him if they had to. Nor did he doubt that Tynan was anything less than serious about getting the woman back with or without his help. But of course he wouldn’t have to, Vlad thought, quietly thrilling at the chance he had been given this night.



Slowly, he smiled and extended his hand, relishing the surprise on Tynan MacGillivray’s face.



“Well, then,” Vlad said. “Well met, brother cat. Let’s get started.”



Chapter TWENTY-THREE



LILY WAS LOCKED securely into the most beautiful room she’d ever been in. The Ptolemy guard who had shut her in had explained, with a very pleasant smile, that should she figure out a way to escape, things would go very badly indeed for her once night fell. He never specified exactly what “very badly indeed” meant, but he didn’t really have to. She’d spent three nights watching the way these Ptolemy operated.



She got it.



Beautiful new clothes had been brought for her, laid out on the bed in preparation for her arrival. All designer labels, all the right size.



It was a little scary.



Maybe she would have been flattered by the attention or excited to have it lavished on her, if she hadn’t known what she knew. But no matter how warm Arsinöe turned out to be, all Lily could think of were the scars on Jaden’s back, and the scars that Ty so obviously carried within himself. She didn’t know if Arsinöe was responsible for those, but she’d certainly played on them.



Lily lay on the massive bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting for something to happen. She was in a beautiful old home in the middle of nowhere, in what she understood to be a favored seat of Ptolemy power tucked away in rural Maryland. Out her window, she could see what appeared to be a large river running alongside a small sand beach not far from the house. Peaceful. Beautiful. But she couldn’t relax a single bit, despite how well taken care of she’d been thus far.



Something big was happening tonight. Lily could actually feel the tension crackling among the Ptolemy who’d checked in on her. It set her nerves on edge, and her nerves were pretty shot at this point anyway. But she’d been instructed to wash herself, to dress in the clothes purchased for her, to make herself fit for a proper audience with the queen.



Somehow, Lily managed it. She showered with the scented soaps and shampoos that had been provided, fascinating concoctions in little glass containers that she knew had been home blended. The smell of them was a little more opulent than what she usually wore. Heavy on the spice and musk. Still, they were better than the cheap sample bottles or, worse, guy shampoo she’d been using when she’d had a spare minute and a shower handy these past few days.



So she bathed, then dressed, little rituals that held some small amount of comfort because she was still alive to do them. In the bathroom mirror, rubbing a clear spot into the steam, Lily studied her mark. It seemed somehow more vibrant than before, glittering there on her fair skin. She sighed and covered it with her shirt, knowing it was going to cause trouble if it was seen. Serious trouble. Potentially life-ending trouble. And counting on a bout of ghostly possession to save her this time seemed like a long shot.



She couldn’t think about Ty. Wouldn’t think about him, even though she knew he must have lived here at times, walked these halls, spoken to these people. It simply hurt too much. And she sensed that here, tears would not be welcomed.



It would take her time, probably a lot of time, to get past the empty ache she felt in her chest right now. But, she thought miserably, even if he’d stayed with her back at the safe house, she would still be alone right now. At best, he would already have been relegated back to his spot as a servant. And at worst…



No, she wouldn’t think of that. Knowing he was out there somewhere, alive, would have to be enough.



After about ten minutes of pacing the plush rug, there was a sharp rap at the door.



“Coming,” she said, padding over to open it. She knew there were guards posted outside, but at least they’d let her have her privacy in the room. She hadn’t been too sure when she’d caught sight of the very large, very intimidating men who’d accompanied her. But she imagined they wanted her comfortable, wanted her to think they trusted her to a certain extent.



No one had asked after Ty. Not a single question, which Lily found odd. And the one time Lily had mentioned his name, to one of her friendlier guards, the man’s warm honey eyes had flashed with anger.



“You will not speak of him,” he had said.