He frowned at the comar, then nodded at Hilda. “Yes. She is.”

Dominic handed them each a small metal plunger, then tapped the side of his neck. “Right into the aorta. The change will be fairly rapid and somewhat painful.”

“How painful is somewhat?” Mal asked. He didn’t care personally, but he wanted to know how much Chrysabelle would have to endure. Sucker.

“It’s okay,” she said.

Was she reading his mind now?

“Let’s go,” Katsumi said. “We can’t leave the hangar until we’ve transformed.”

“She’s right.” Dominic stuck the plunger to his neck and pushed the button on the end. It made a small whooshing sound. He grimaced a second later but the expression didn’t last long. “There. How do I look?”

“The same damn way.” Mal frowned. “If this doesn’t work—”

“Look.” Chrysabelle pointed.

Dominic’s face began to shift as they watched. He looked like he was underwater. The strangeness passed, leaving behind the blended characteristics of both Dominic and the vampire he’d taken blood from.

Katsumi stuck the plunger to her neck. Within a minute, she, too, was transformed.

Mal pressed his plunger against his skin as Chrysabelle did the same. He watched as her familiar beauty faded into something much more pedestrian. Her gaze skimmed his face. “How do I look?” he asked.

Katsumi snorted indelicately. “I’d say it’s an improvement.”

“You look fine,” Chrysabelle said. “Tatiana will never know it’s you.”

“Unless she hears you speaking too much,” Dominic corrected. “If you talk to her, modulate your voice. And be careful that neither of you shows affection to each other. You are patron and comarré, not… whatever it is you have become.”

The words angered Mal for some reason. He knew Dominic wasn’t belittling his relationship with Chrysabelle, just warning them, but it still rankled. “We understand that.”

“Bene.” Dominic rapped his knuckles on the limo’s partition. “Let’s go.”

The fringe driver waved his hand, then gave a thumbs-up to Amery, who rolled the hangar doors back so both cars could head out. Solomon was in their car, but he sat up front with the driver. The cypher was as quiet as Mal remembered him. How Dominic had the fae in his employ was a mystery, just like how Mortalis had come to work for the vampire.

Chrysabelle squeezed his hand and Mal smiled at her, forgetting his insignificant concerns. They had enough to worry about as it was. “Ready?”

“Yes,” she answered. “We mingle, locate Damian and the baby. I talk to Damian and let him know his part. Then we regroup, make sure the plan still works, and revise as needed. Right now, Katsumi will be taking Damian out disguised as her comar.” She pointed at Katsumi and Dominic. “In theory, you three will be able to walk out the front door. You’ll fly out as soon as you return to the hangar. Mortalis will wait for us at the end of the tunnels.” She smiled. “Then he and Amery will fly us home.”

It sounded so easy. He knew it wouldn’t be.

Katsumi stared out the window into the night. Or maybe she was studying her new face. “How long will these disguises last?”

“Five hours. A little more, a little less.” Dominic tipped his hand back and forth like a scale. “Longer if you don’t drink any blood.”

“Not a problem.” Chrysabelle laughed. “You have the vial for Damian?”

Dominic patted his suit coat. “In my pocket. Hopefully your blood is similar enough to his that it works.” Lines framed his mouth. “You might be his sister, but you and the other comarré are female. I’m not entirely sure what he’ll end up looking like.”

Chrysabelle nodded. “I thought about that, too, but all you have to do is get him out the door and into the car.”

“We will,” Dominic assured her.

After that they settled into a tense silence. At last, they approached the gates. The driver stopped the car and Solomon got out, held the wards open long enough for both cars to get through, and then they were in the city.

It wasn’t so different from Corvinestri. Narrow cobblestone streets, buildings that looked like they’d been new a couple hundred centuries ago—some still bearing gas lamps—human inhabitants bent over by the fear of serving creatures that could kill them in the blink of an eye. And just like in Corvinestri, the landscape changed as they broke away from the human village and into the vampire estates. Open space was abundant, the well-lit buildings glimpsed behind high masonry walls and gated entrances were in pristine condition, the grounds impeccable.

The car slowed and drove through an enormous gate, already open, the word BATHORY scrolled in iron at the top. At the end of the long drive, they joined a line of cars waiting to be attended to.

Dominic watched as liveried servants came toward the limo. He turned back to them, lifted his chin, and said, “In bocca al lupo.”

“Exactly,” Mal replied. He knew Dominic meant to wish them good luck, but the words’ literal translation settled over him like a dark shroud. They were indeed about to be in the mouth of the wolf.

“No, no.” Dominic shook his head. “You must respond crepi lupo.” His brows arched and his gaze slanted toward the house. “For the wolf is about to die.”

Before Mal could say anything further, the doors were opened. The four of them got out and, with Dominic and Katsumi leading, made their way with a few other nobles to the mansion’s entrance.