When I straightened and gazed up at the council, they were all looking at each other but no one was speaking. The orbs had changed to an orangish glow as they used telepathy to deliberate silently with each other. If there was a consensus among them, they wouldn't bother to vote. If the council was widely divided, they'd vote verbally.

I swallowed hard, fighting the need to throw up as the tension roiled my stomach. The argument seemed cut-and-dry to me. Reave had found the locations of the Towers. He deserved to be punished for threatening the order of the world. I doubted there was a government in the world that would agree to punish him with a death sentence, but if a scapegoat could take the blame without risking more lives, they'd all hand him over without hesitation. It wasn't right, but it kept people alive.

Of course, I didn't know what else they had seen in Reave's mind and I was praying they didn't throw my name in with his so they could get rid of me.

"It's decided," the black witch announced, and my heart stopped for a second, waiting. "The elf will be executed for his violation of our sanct.i.ty." I waited but she stopped talking and no one said my name. I released my held breath in a rush. My head swam and my knees went weak. I was sure that I was going to fall on my a.s.s in the middle of the chamber and I didn't care.

"I'm not the only one who knows!" Reave screamed in desperation.

"No," I said in a broken whisper before I could catch myself. If I thought it would have made a difference, I would have killed Reave in that second, but it was too late. The words had already hit the air. Apparently, the council members hadn't dug deeply enough to see Reave give the locations to my brother, but now they would know.

I closed my eyes against the swell of impotent rage and tears, but not before I saw the orbs snap to bright yellow as they dove back into Reave's mind, searching for the bit of information that they had missed.

"Robert Grant . . . your brother . . ." one of the council members said in surprise. I didn't know who had spoken, but the voice had been female, sounding almost sad, or at least pitying.

I took at deep breath and blinked back the tears before looking up at them. "It was Reave's way of ensuring my cooperation and protection against the Towers. He told the locations to my brother." My tone was quiet, almost as if I was dead inside, but I wasn't that lucky.

"And the location of this brother?" the dandy inquired.

It had been on the tip of my tongue to say that I killed him, but they would know the truth. They would search my brain until they found the memory of me murdering my brother. I couldn't lie to the council. I could stretch the truth, but not outright lie.

"He's gone."

The warlock smiled at me, trying to look as if he was my best friend in the world, but I wasn't buying it. "Where?"

"No."

The warlock's eyes widened, but otherwise there was no reaction on his lean face as he watched me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see several orbs flare to bright red. Yeah, this was what I had been waiting for. You didn't refuse the council and you never struck bargains, but I was going to try to do both to save my brother's life.

I prepared to step out on the tightrope. The council members could try to read my mind like they had read Reave's, but they wouldn't be as successful because I was a warlock. I knew how to compartmentalize thoughts, hide them away so that a quick search would reveal nothing. Oh, they could eventually find the truth, but it wasn't going to be quick. They'd have to strip away each layer of my brain until there was nothing left of me. Normally, the council wouldn't have a problem with such a thing, other than that it took lots of valuable time. I had to give them a good reason not to destroy my mind.

"Reave told my brother, but I wiped the memory. Robert doesn't know the locations now; nor is he aware that he ever knew them."

The dandy flashed me an indulgent smile that I wanted to rip off his face with a rake. "Forgive us if we're not as confident as you. Memory wipes are quite tricky. I can't imagine that you've had a lot of practice at them." His smile widened as he waited for me to backpedal. Memory spells were not covered in my self-defense-only agreement and I was about to hang myself if I admitted a second time to using it.

My gaze never wavered from him. "As Simon Thorn could at one time attest, I am talented. My brother's memory has been wiped."

The murmur of conversation behind me picked up again for a couple seconds before one of the council members pounded his staff on the stone floor. The warlock who had spoken smiled at me, his grin nearly sharklike. He thought he had me, and he was probably right, but I wasn't done yet.

"My brother's memory has been wiped," I repeated, my voice rising strong and firm. "He has no memory of Reave, myself, or my family. I gave him a new name, appearance, and past that he doesn't question. He was sent from the city where he lived and I have no idea where he will settle."

"A very pretty attempt at protection," Henry Fox commented, sounding bored, but I knew better. His mind was already turning over the spells that he could use to track down Robert. It would take time, but he could do it.

I grinned at him, looking sharklike myself. "I also gave him insurance." Fox's satisfied look crumpled to a frown and even the dandy seemed to be paying closer attention now. "He has the coordinates tattooed on his body in code, though not currently visible to the naked eye. However, if he should die unexpectedly and there is even a hint of magic surrounding him at the time, not only will the tattooed coordinates appear on his body, but they will also appear on ten different people every day for the next ten years. And should they die in a similar manner, the spread will be amplified. There will be no stopping the spread of information if he is harmed. My brother will not be hunted."

The conversation in the chamber rose to a deafening roar as the gathered ma.s.s realized that the council had been outmaneuvered. No one did such a thing, and certainly not some rogue who had turned his back on the Towers. It took several minutes of pounding on the floor and few shouted threats to get the room back under control.

If I wasn't looking at my own death sentence, I would applaud your efforts, Gideon whispered telepathically. Surprisingly, he didn't sound angry. I was hoping that it was because he understood why I did what I did, and maybe knew he would have done the same thing to protect his family.

"Powell," the black witch said on a sigh when the silence had returned. She was frowning, looking as if she had aged ten years since I had entered the chamber. She probably wanted to smack me, and I couldn't blame her. "You're a devious b.a.s.t.a.r.d, which only makes it seem fitting that you wound up with Thorn since he was a devious b.a.s.t.a.r.d as well. Through your actions, you've handed yourself to us on a silver platter. You've broken the agreement not to use magic beyond self-defense, and yet I can't shake the feeling that you've still got one more card to play. Shall we get on with it?"

It was a struggle not to grin at her, but I managed, keeping my face empty. A wistful thought wandered through my brain: if she had been my mentor when I came to the Towers, I might have stuck around a little longer.

"You need me," I said, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my battered jeans.

Laughter exploded throughout the room, which helped to ease some of the growing tension, but it crept back into the room as everyone slowly realized that I was completely serious. Seats creaked as people nervously shifted while the council members frowned.

"The information leak should have impressed upon you that the Towers are no longer in tune with the events occurring in the rest of the world," I continued when silence had returned. "The people of the world have gotten better at hiding their secrets from you because time has taught them your tricks. They fear you, that will never change, but they've found new ways to work around you. Reave's acc.u.mulation of information couldn't have happened overnight; it required the pa.s.sage of weeks if not years. Yet the Towers didn't discover it until he had all the locations. Simply put, you're dangerously out of touch."

To my surprise, none of the orbs glowed red. Instead, faces turned red and some members shifted in their seats. They were uncomfortable. I wasn't telling them anything they hadn't already realized and had begun to worry about.

"We don't need you, traitor." The pregnant-looking warlock sneered, but he gave no other argument because he had none.

"In fear, members of the Towers destroyed an entire city to kill one person when it would have been more effective to have killed him quietly and secretly without arousing the suspicions of the world," I said, careful not to blame the destruction of Indianapolis on the council. "Now the world is wary. People have scattered like c.o.c.kroaches with the light flipped on. They'll be harder to find, harder to kill." I smiled, letting an evil glint enter my expression. "You need me living among them, sifting through the rumors to protect the safety of the Towers."

"Why do you wish to protect the Towers?" the dandy asked. The mocking look had been wiped from his face and he seemed to be taking a new interest in me.

"I'd rather not see another city destroyed," I said, and then sighed, hating to admit something else, but it was the truth. "And despite our differing opinions on . . . Tower culture . . . I do believe in the dedicated study of the art. But that can't be done if you're constantly worrying about what the rest of the world is plotting."

"And you're offering your services as a spy?" The dandy looked supremely amused, barely holding back his laughter.

"In exchange for my life," I said with a small bow, hiding my face when I was sure I was going to be sick. I was trying to trade servitude to Reave for slavery to the Towers. Not an improvement. When I could breathe evenly, I straightened and smiled broadly. "Unless, of course, you want to leave the Towers to live among the people? Think you'll get many volunteers?"

Turning sharply around, I faced the wall of spectators and spread my hands out toward them in invitation. "Who among you will leave the Towers to live among the people? Who will pack up their wands and give up magic to live in a quiet suburban house or a cramped one-bedroom apartment where the floor creaks and the faucet leaks? Who will stand in line at the grocery, rub elbows at the local bar, and get a job?"

The silence was deafening. No one moved. h.e.l.l, I don't think anyone was breathing for fear that the council would volunteer them. I spun back to face the council, swallowing a shout of laughter.

"You've made your point, Mr. Powell," the black witch grumbled, causing the smile to be wiped off my face. She glanced down at her fellow council members, frowning. "We will consider your offer."

Now it was my turn to stop breathing. I had laid all my cards on the table, made my final move. There were no more tricks up my sleeve to save my life. It would either work, or I was going to end up dead along with Reave very shortly. I watched the orbs glowing orange as the council telepathically discussed everything that I had laid before them. While no one spoke, the mood seemed more animated this time, as warlocks and witches moved in their seats and facial expressions changed. Only the dandy on the end remained still, his expression never changing. He sat back in his chair, holding his staff with one hand while he stared unblinking at me.

Minutes ticked by one after another in an ever-thickening tension. I didn't know if it was a good sign or a bad one. If they decided too quickly, would it mean they had ruled against me? If it took too long, would they go to a verbal vote? I wasn't counting on a verbal vote ending in my favor, and a tie would be worse, as I would be imprisoned until the new council member cast the deciding vote.

When I was sure that I would explode from impatience, the glowing orbs dimmed and everyone straightened in their chairs. No one was smiling.

"You've left us with a quandary, Mr. Powell," the witch commented. "You've admitted to breaking your agreement and casting forbidden magic, but you've done the Towers a great favor and offered your services, which I'm sure you find quite distasteful." She paused, her frown deepening. "Killing you is the easy answer, but then we would feel as if we had been . . . ungrateful for your a.s.sistance. It may also show the rest of the Towers that we don't appreciate the vigilance of our fellow warlocks and witches in our protection. We have decided on leniency, this one time."

"Thank you." I sighed with relief as I bowed deeply to them.

"I would hold your appreciation until you've heard our terms," she sharply continued, causing an uneasy flutter in my chest. "We will accept your offer. You will become the eyes and ears of the council while living among the people. You will execute our edicts, punish those who threaten us, and deliver those who need to be questioned by the council."

I took a step back, frowning. "You make it sound as if I am to be included as a part of the guardians."

The guardians were the enforcement arm of the Towers. When the people shook in terror at the Towers, the guardians were the group they were usually thinking of. This was bad. I had been thinking of something less obtrusive and deeply hidden. The council's agreement meant that I was back to killing and torturing people for the Towers.

"That can't be because I'd have to be considered an inhabitant of the Towers to take on such a role," I said, shaking my head.

She said nothing. She stared at me with cold, dead eyes. I wanted to scream at them all, but I couldn't because I couldn't catch my breath. As the truth hit me, I started hyperventilating. To survive, I had to take their offer, which meant that I was a part of the Towers again. I was one of them. I was back.

Nearly a decade ago, I had fought my mentor, nearly killed him, and nearly died in the process to break free. I had survived a hearing before the council. I lost my family, survived repeated a.s.sa.s.sination attempts, and lay hidden, lying to the world for years. All of it to escape the Towers. And now I had to choose between death and willingly returning to the enemy's ranks. The killing I had sworn against doing would only be the tip of the iceberg once I was at the beck and call of the council. If they wanted me to live among the people, they wouldn't give away my secret, but I'd still have to look at myself in the mirror each day, remembering the lives I destroyed for them. The life I had built was slipping through my fingers.

I drew in a deep, fragmented breath, trying to stop my hyperventilating. I was on my knees on the cold, black floor, but I couldn't remember how I had gotten there. A cold sweat covered me and I was so light-headed that the room seemed to sway.

Gideon's dress shoes came into view. He couldn't touch me, offer any comfort without giving himself away, but knowing he was close kept me from feeling quite so alone in that ocean of cold, black stone. His presence was a silent reminder that he was a guardian and yet he maintained a secret life that was a place of love and happiness with a wife and daughter. He had found ways around the council's orders. He was quietly helping the runaways. Yes, he did horrible things for the Towers, but he also did positive things that were protecting lives-namely mine.

If I agreed to serve the council, I could help people like Gideon. I could do more than I was able to do now. I wasn't sure I'd be able to face myself at the end of the day. Sadly, as I sat there staring at the shine on Gideon's shoes, I knew I had already decided. I was sick with the thought, but the truth was that I was desperate to live.

When I spoke, the words were so ragged they sounded as if they had been torn from my chest. "If I accept, will I be reinstated to the full privileges of a Tower member?"

The silence stretched but I didn't look up. They were discussing my question among themselves. My question covered a mult.i.tude of sins, but my main concern was being permitted to use all forms of magic again, and they knew it.

The witch's voice washed over me, sounding less harsh than it had been earlier. "Not yet. This will be on a trial basis. If you prove yourself diligent and trustworthy, we will consider reinstating all your privileges. For now, you may use magic only in self-defense and in relation to a task done in service to the council."

I frowned. The door wasn't closed on the topic, but reinstatement to full privileges was looking unlikely. On the other hand, the witch had given me a nice amount of gray area to work in, definitely more breathing room than I had had before.

"Will I retain a warden?"

"Yes."

"Not Toussaint," I said sharply, trying to infuse as much anger and hatred into those two words as I could. I lifted my head and glared at the council. "He's been a knife in my side for nearly a decade and I've had enough. His constant abuse and attempts at entrapment have gone against our agreement of live and let live. I want someone else!" By the time I was finished, I was on my feet; I didn't have to fake the anger.

The "pregnant" warlock lounged in his chair and smiled broadly at me. "It seems Master Toussaint is doing an excellent job, so why should we relieve him of the task? He will remain your warden." He had spoken without consulting any of the other council members and none would disagree with his decision out loud, though several looked like they wanted to.

My attempt at reverse psychology had been clumsy and ham-fisted, but it was all I could think of. I was afraid that if someone else was a.s.signed to watch over me, the Towers would simply kill Gideon for his failure to curb my magic use. Luckily, the warlock who had just spoken had been so eager to see me suffer that he didn't think about my possible motivations. I scowled at him, playing my part, but others didn't look so convinced.

"For your first a.s.signment," the witch broke in, drawing my eyes back to her, "you will kill the dark elf for his attack on the Towers. And you will kill him with magic."

Panic surged through my frame for a second and I even saw Gideon stiffen beside me. I knew why they'd decided this. Punishment for outmaneuvering them. I'd lose a year of my life for killing Reave with magic, and not one of the c.r.a.ppy ones off the end. It could be one of the good years right out of the G.o.dd.a.m.n middle. But it wasn't losing a year of my life that bothered me. It was the fact that Lilith would have me in her clutches for two whole years since she was holding a chunk of my soul.

Of course, this was all a.s.suming that my body would be preserved during the years I was dead. I couldn't come back if I didn't have a body to come back to.

I wanted to scream and rant at them. I wanted to tell them that they were handing me into the most dangerous being in existence-Lilith would use those two years to break free and I wouldn't be able to stop it. But I knew they wouldn't listen. They wouldn't believe me when I told them she really existed and they would never believe anyone could be more powerful than the Towers. There was nothing I could do.

Not trusting my voice, I gave a jerky nod and turned toward Reave, who was watching me. He'd known he was going to die when Gideon and I brought him to the Towers. He'd had enough time to accept it. h.e.l.l, he'd probably known he was going to die the moment he embarked on this insane scheme. He was just disappointed that he didn't take me down with him.

"Release him," I barked. Gideon hesitated. I liked to think that he was mentally scrambling, trying to think of a way out for me, but in the end, the binding spell disappeared. There was no way out. If I didn't do as they asked, they'd kill me. If Gideon did it for me, they'd kill both of us.

Reave balanced on one leg, the toe of his injured one barely touching the floor. His bearing was straight and his head was high as he stared me in the eyes. He was in pain but you couldn't tell. I hated Reave. I hated him because he was behind the death of countless creatures. I hated him for tearing Robert out of my life. I hated him for all the harm he had done to Bronx. I hated him for helping to destroy the life I loved. But standing there as he was, with body straight and gaze unflinching, I had to respect him, and that was the only reason why I killed him as quickly as possible.

Gathering up a quick swell of energy, I thrust both my hands forward and Reave jerked as if I had plunged them through his chest. I clenched my fists together, gathering the energy around his heart, crushing it. The Svartalfar gasped, his eyes widening in pain, and then he collapsed, dead.

It took only seconds to kill him and it would cost me a year of my life. I could hear Lilith laughing maniacally in my head as she celebrated the second year I now owed her.

"Excellent," the witch said, jerking my attention back to the council. "An agreement has been reached. All is settled. This meeting is adjourned." She pounded her staff on the floor twice, signaling the end of the meeting. There was a low murmur of conversation as people either disappeared from the chamber or filed out of the room through one of the doors. The council members disappeared one after another. Except the dandy.

He smiled at me, sending a chill down my spine. "Next time you come before the council, you may want to consider dressing for the event, Master Powell." He dipped his staff toward me and I could feel a wash of magic run down my body like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I held his gaze, refusing to flinch, until he disappeared. When I looked down, I found myself wearing a suit identical to the one Gideon had on.

I wanted to scream, and cry, and burn the whole f.u.c.king place down. Instead, I looked over at Gideon to find him staring at the chair the dandy had sat in.

"Who was that?"

Gideon sighed, a sound that seemed to come up from the bottom of his soul. "Darius Courtland. You don't want his attention. You definitely don't want to be caught alone with him. He makes Thorn and Fox look like Boy Scouts."

"Figured as much," I muttered. That was about how my luck ran. There wasn't anyone on the council I particularly wanted to face off against, but there was something about Darius that made my blood run cold with fear.

"I think he's the one who killed Peter." Gideon's voice had dipped to a whisper, as if he was afraid that someone was listening, but we were now alone in the council chamber.

The warlock blinked and turned to face me. Sadness filled his eyes, making me feel uncomfortable, mostly because he was sad about the things I wasn't yet letting myself think about. If there was anyone who knew what the agreement I had just made cost me, it was Gideon. I had a feeling that in the deep dark of the night, when he had his arms wrapped tightly around the waist of his secret wife as they cuddled in bed, he wished he had gotten out like me.

"Welcome home," he said, a grim smile touching the corners of his mouth.

Oh G.o.d . . . I was back.

30.

IT WAS NEARLY three in the afternoon and the sun was beating down from a clear blue sky as if it was trying to convince the inhabitants of Low Town that it was the middle of June rather than the start of October. Leaning against the side of my SUV, I tilted my face up and closed my eyes as I soaked in the warmth. The leaves had already started to change into a blend of red, yellow, and orange, and the smell in the air held echoes of fall, but today felt like summer with the warm air and the distant growl of lawn mowers gliding across lawns.

My birthday was only a few days away and we were hoping the nice weather would hold up. Trixie was planning a grill-out, complete with scorched meat, fireworks, and a plastic wading pool, because she was desperately trying to keep a smile on my face. She had even gone so far as to suggest that I invite Gideon and his family, though I wasn't expecting them to show. I hadn't been smiling much since my return from the Ivory Tower. Trixie hadn't asked what happened, and I hadn't volunteered any information, but the question was coming. For now, she waited and watched me with a worried look when she didn't think I could see her.

The Towers had made no demands of me yet, but that would come too. The world had fallen into a tense peace as people tried to return to their lives while holding their breath in antic.i.p.ation. Few knew why the Towers had destroyed Indianapolis or attacked Low Town and most didn't think the attacks were over yet.

The sound of leathery wings flapping caught my attention. I lowered my face and opened my eyes as I turned toward the noise. Duff landed on the hood of the SUV, where he did a little dance, hopping from one foot to the other as his bare feet cooked on the hot metal. With a frown, I stepped close so that he could crawl up to perch half on my shoulder and half on my head while his long tail curled around my arm.

Duff weighed the same as a small dog, so this wasn't the most comfortable position, but for some reason, he liked to be close to me. In the few times he'd popped into the parlor, I'd never seen him try this with Bronx or Trixie.

"Were you waiting for me?" he asked with a chuckle.

"You know I was," I said as I leaned against the car again. "How're things at the shop?"

"Trixie just finished up with the queen's tattoo and it is so lovely," he said, excitement filling his voice. "The king was a gentleman the entire time. Your friend wasn't needed."

I kept my comments to myself. When I discovered that I couldn't be at the shop when Trixie tattooed the king and queen of the Summer Court, I'd asked my friend Parker Banton to hang out and keep an eye on the king. Parker was pretty good at taking care of himself and I knew he'd watch out for Trixie for me, but I had asked him because he was an incubus. It was a subtle threat. If the king gave Trixie any grief, Parker was going to use his unique charm on the queen. Considering the queen was now pregnant with the king's child, I thought that jealousy would keep him on his best behavior.

Of course, the king also knew what I was and that I considered Trixie mine. I didn't think the elf was stupid enough to p.i.s.s me off more than he already had.

"You should have seen him," Duff continued. He pulled at my hair with his little fingers as if he were playing with it. He paused and bent down so that his upside-down face was directly in front of mine. "He was so attentive to the queen. I think they are past their quarrel and are in love again."

I closed my eyes before they could cross and pushed his head up so that it was no longer in front of mine. Duff specialized in being ridiculous.

"How's your pixie friend?"