She reached down to tousle Lilith’s dark curls. “I merely want everything to go off perfectly.”

“I’m sure it will. Lord Syler knows what’s at stake for the House of Bathory as the host. He will not disappoint you.”

“No, he won’t. Very few people are willing to risk that.” She stared at him pointedly, then shifted her gaze to Lilith, who’d stopped crawling to pet the rug’s fringe. “Things worked out rather well with Svetla, wouldn’t you say?”

“Orchestrated genius.” His smile faltered a bit. “The ancient ones are damn scary, if I dare say so. I don’t know how you’ve dealt with them for so long. You’re a brave woman, my love.”

Her own smile faltered as she remembered all she’d been through at the hands of the Castus. “But now I have Lilith. I wouldn’t change anything that’s happened, nor will I let anything or anyone take away all that I’ve worked for. I’ve earned this life and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it be stripped from me without a fight.”

“After the incident with Svetla, I doubt there’s anyone brave enough to try.” He chuckled softly. “You really have become queen of the vampire nation, haven’t you?”

“I said I would and I did.” She lifted her gaze to him. “Did you ever doubt me?”

“No, never.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “There’s no one more powerful than you. Except for the ancients. No wonder they chose you to be their principal.” He frowned. “Do you think… No, I shouldn’t even say such a thing.” He leaned back. “I suppose we should make our way to the plane, hmm?”

“What were you going to say?”

“It’s blasphemous. I shouldn’t even think it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Octavian, tell me this instant or I’ll bite you.”

“That’s not a threat, my love. That’s foreplay.”

“Tell me,” she demanded.

He paused, hints of silver in his eyes. He was aroused, no question. She knew because the talk of power had done the same to her. “I was going to say, do you think a time might come when you’ll be as powerful or perhaps more so than the ancients?” He laughed nervously. “See? I told you, blasphemous.”

She stood and put her hands on her hips, the very idea of such power coursing through her with an erotic heat that demanded assuaging. “Oana,” she called. “Come take Lilith now.”

The wet nurse ran in from the other room. “Yes, my lady.” She scooped Lilith up and took her out, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Tatiana stalked across the rug to stand before Octavian. “You should be punished for even thinking such thoughts.” The need for him was so thick in her blood she could barely get the words out. “Wicked creature.”

He went to his knees before her, his hands snaking up her skirt to wrap around the backs of her thighs. He leaned his head against her leg. “Perhaps you should teach me how to behave, my lady.”

“Yes,” she said, her voice husky with the weight of desire. “That is exactly what I’m about to do.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

We have to leave now,” Chrysabelle said a third time. Mal hated seeing her like this, and nothing he said made things any better. Did you expect it to? “I understand, but we can’t go without a plan. It’s a suicide mission otherwise.”

She paced the length of the living room, turned, and started back. “You’re right, I know, but I feel like every moment here is a moment wasted.”

Being told he was right, now that was something new. It won’t last. He slanted his eyes at Mortalis, but the fae just shrugged. Clearly, this was Mal’s show.

She twisted her hands together and stopped abruptly in front of him. “Holy mother, what if Tatiana kills Damian before I get to him? What if he never finds out I’m his sister?”

Mal took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Sweetheart, that’s not going to happen. We’re the ones with the information this time. We have the advantage. But we have to do this right or we’ll lose it.”

She nodded. “You’re right.” He raised his brows. Right twice in the space of a few minutes? He could get used to this. Don’t. She sighed. “So what do we do?”

“Come, sit down.” He guided her to the sofa where they sat. “To start with, we need a way there.”

“Go see Dominic,” Mortalis offered. “He can supply you with whatever you need.”

“What we need is an idea.” Chrysabelle rubbed at the signum on the back of her hand. “And I don’t want to ask him for his plane again.” She sat a little straighter. “I should have my own. I certainly have the money.” She looked at Mortalis, eyes hopeful. “Is that something you could help me with? Buying a plane and finding me a pilot?”

“How soon do you want it? With Luciano here, Dominic isn’t in the club as much, so my hours have been lighter.”

“Two days?”

He shook his head. “Not enough time to buy a plane, but I know one you can charter and a pilot you can trust.”

“Excellent. Get them here as fast as you can.”

Doc came in the front door. He’d taken over keeping watch from Mortalis since they’d started discussing the mission to recover Damian. “Heads up. Dominic’s coming through the gate and I’m out of here before I get into it with him and ruin the happy vibe going on. I should probably get back anyway, seeing as how I have a pride to run and all.”