"Crazed. She zooms around the floor like she's chasing things, and she makes that chittering sound and dances around with her mouth open like she's just killed the biggest rat in history."

"You getting anything on your detectors?"

"Yes, I am. But without you to confirm it, I'm not sure I've got a good calibration. It could be stray cell phone signals or it could be the Loch Ness monster for all I can tell. Harper . . . G.o.d, I wish you were here."

Something hard knotted up in my throat and made it difficult to talk. "Me, too. I'll finish up as fast as I can," I promised.

My companions were both watching me as I disconnected. I swallowed a few times to clear the emotion that choked me. "Change of plan," I said. "We have to move faster than I'd hoped." Marsden pursed his mouth. "So it's startin', is it?"

I just nodded. Michael looked grim.

Marsden grinned, a terrifying and feral thing with his yellowed teeth and gouged eye sockets. "Right then. We'll be after the Primate of St. James tonight."

"The what?" I queried.

Michael looked startled.

"I don't mean the Archbishop of Canterbury, boy," Marsden said. Then he turned back to me. "It's their little joke, y'see. They're taking the p.i.s.s by calling the head of their cabal the 'Primate' as if he were the equal of the Archbishop of All England."

"Seattle's only got one community of vampires. . . ." I said, though it appeared that wasn't strictly true anymore.

"London's older, more factionalized. Some of the Brothers go back to the founding of the city under the Romans. They're playing by a different set of rules than what your lot is. You could approach the Primate of St. John and hope to get him on your side, but you haven't got that time. You'll have to go straight for St. James."

"No."

"And why not, may I ask?"

"St. James is in the Pharaohn's pocket."

"Hark at her. The expert!"

Annoyed now, I shook my head and snapped at him, "Listen. Two years ago in Seattle the Pharaohn used another vampire to watch me. Her name was Alice Liddell-"

"LikeAlice in Wonderland Alice?" Michael asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes, but I'm not sure she's that Alice Liddell, not really. Anyhow. She tried to use me to take Edward out so she could be top dog, but it didn't work. She attacked us and we killed her. Or I thought we had-we left her staked down in a burning building. We a.s.sumed she was dust. But I saw her two nights ago in a club in Clerkenwell. It was less than two blocks from St. James's church and she didn't look like she was having any trouble with the locals."

"Are you sure she's got St. James's for the Pharaohn?" Marsden questioned. "She could just be playing her game against Edward again on her own."

I gave some thought before I opened my mouth again. Edward was a common enough name, but Wygan wasn't, so I'd have to speak with care. Michael didn't need to know that one of Seattle's favorite late-night radio personalities and one of its richest citizens were vampires with a deadly grudge that had tangled both himself and his brother in its uncaring coils. "There was an asetem in the club-" Marsden interrupted me. "'Asete' for just one. 'Asetem' is the plural."

I gave him a sharp nod. "Asete. This asete talked to me, taunting me. She knew Alice, knew who I was, and said something about Alice and the Pharaohn's plans as if I ought to know. She said it would be more fun if I was afraid. Alice is working for the Pharaohn-ankh-astet, and I think it's safe to a.s.sume she now controls St. James's or they wouldn't have let her in the place.

"Edward used to have a line on things in St. James's," I continued, "but he lost it when Purcell disappeared. Sekhmet said Purcell's lackey, Jakob, had-" I stopped myself from mentioning the charmed letter that had been sent to Will. "Had got the amphorae for the asetem. I thought she meant the vampires in general then, but now I think she meant the Egyptians. Barnaby said they were the Brothers of St. James, even though they took the jars under the priory of St. John. If anyone would know the difference between the Brotherhoods, I'd imagine it's him. I think they used the priory bas.e.m.e.nt for whatever ritual they did with the jars of blood to raise the creature Barnaby Smith mentioned, and they chose that location to intimidate the Brotherhood of St. John. The timing's right for that skullduggery with the amphorae to be connected to Alice's takeover of St. James's."

"One problem with that," Marsden drawled. "The Brotherhoods both hate the asetem. They've had an agreement for ages to divide London up at the river and not interfere with one another. That's how Edward got hisself run out: He tried to bring the asetem into the Brotherhood of St. James by pulling some jiggery-pokery with the Pharaohn."

"The same Pharaohn?" I asked.

"Yeah. He and Edward is mortal enemies because of that."

"Enemies united . . . Alice, St. James, and the asetem against Edward," I said, fitting the pieces together. Wygan hated Edward for whatever had happened in London. He was running Alice now as he had when we met. "Alice is denying Edward his control in England. Keeping him trapped in Seattle while the Pharaohn starts his ball rolling . . ."

"If you say so."

"Educated guess. My friend on the phone said things are going nuts back home, and there are asetem stirring the pot."

"You should pray he exaggerates, girl."

"I don't think he does. What's happening there is connected to what's happening here. The big players are all in Seattle."

"Except you," Marsden reminded me.

"I'm not a player, according to you. I'm a tool waiting to be shaped and used. I think that's why I was lured to London."

He shrugged. "You say so. Why is St. John not objecting to the asetem in Clerkenwell?" Marsden demanded.

"I'm not sure, but I'd bet whatever they did with the jars under the priory has something to do with it. Probably some kind of intimida tion. If I can get to the Primate of St. John, he might help me get past Alice and get Will out."

"You'd have to break St. James. That'll mean breaking this Alice and whatever asetem she's got with her."

"I don't think she's very popular with them. The asete in the club didn't like Alice. She acted like she was working under orders with which she disagreed. Once Alice is gone, I don't think St. James will continue to work with the asetem. But I don't give a d.a.m.n what becomes of the Red Brotherhoods. I don't care if Edward's empire crumbles and they all kill each other so long as I get Will out alive." And avoid whatever nasty tricks Alice has in store for me, I thought.

THIRTY-NINE.

As a result of that conversation, I stood in the bas.e.m.e.nt of a restaurant just off Clerkenwell Road at about ten o'clock that evening. I'd been there for more than ninety minutes. The priory of St. John was a block away and St. James's church was about five blocks away. I'd walked past the clerk's well for which the area was named, tucked behind its window in an office block, as I'd come down from Angel Tube station. I hadn't wanted to run into any guards at Farringdon, even though the walk was a long one and it took me past enemy territory first; a calculated risk. Now deep in the earth, I thought I could hear the water gurgling somewhere nearby and wondered if the well's source lay below St. John's. The lines of the grid were a curiously placid blue with an unhealthy tinge of green from the contaminants in the aquifer. The room I was standing in, however, was charged with red and yellow energy that buzzed around the room like a swarm of bees and thick with the shades of medieval plague victims gasping and dying in forgotten corners, cast out from the clean confines of the priory. They didn't make me feel any better about what I was about to do.

Between us, Marsden and I had concluded that the restaurant housed the nighttime office of Henry Glick, the Primate of the Red Brotherhood of St. John. My unannounced arrival had thrown the local bloodsuckers into a visible tizzy that had so far worked to my advantage. It was the same reason I'd crossed through St. James's territory on the way: I'd hoped to breed a little confusion and chatter and keep the attention of any snooping vampires on me while Marsden and Michael scouted for the location of Will's imprisonment. I doubted they'd be able to rescue him on their own, but they'd signal me when they found him and we'd carry on from there, depending on what happened with the Primate of St. John. So I was standing in the dim cellar among the smells of damp wood and spilled beer, waiting for an audience. It didn't feel like the first time I'd met with Edward at the After Dark club in Seattle. I'd been naive and lucky then, however scared and b.a.l.l.sy. This time I knew better and I was a lot more frightened. I hoped the delay wasn't an indication of bad things and I camouflaged my fears in boredom and the discomfort of being in the same clothes I'd been wearing for two days. At least the shower and washer in the boat worked well enough, but I still missed my suitcase and figured I'd never see it again. Idly staring around the room, I could detect the Grey outline of a door in the stone foundation wall, charmed to appear solid to most people. I pretended not to notice. I sat on a stack of beer kegs and rolled my eyes, yawning for the benefit of my single "escort," a demi-vamp who seemed to be named Dez and who didn't quite ignore me but didn't say much, either. He boiled with unfocused anger and frustration that seemed to have nothing to do with me. Not all demi-vamps are thrilled about their station in life or addicted to the rush I'm told they get from whatever it is that keeps them hovering halfway between one state and the next. The unsure ones, like Dez, don't survive very long.

The restless energy of the room shifted, steadied, and flushed a b.l.o.o.d.y crimson, reeking of carnage. The suffering ghosts moaned and flickered out, washed away by the influx. Dez stiffened and turned his attention toward the magic doorway as it sparkled and faded to let someone in.

The sound of shoes on stone stairs preceded the appearance of another male vampire. At least, I a.s.sumed he was a vampire, since he presented himself with authority, though he didn't have the same aura or look as any vampire I'd met before-even the asetem. He had the strangest eyes I'd ever encountered: silver, pupilless discs that seemed to float in the sclera like coins on a sheen of oil. He was whippet thin and wore a long brick red coat over a dark suit that seemed to have come from some other time and place, though in the glimpse I had of it, I couldn't tell where or when. He had a double aura I'd never seen before: one pure black, relieved by jagged sparks of red; the other a shifting maze of silver planes.

He glanced at me and then at Dez and pointed at me with a jabbing motion. "Search her. Then you come downstairs with us." His was a strange accent with stretched vowels and soft consonants. He made an ironic little bow to me and then stepped back into the darkness of the concealed doorway. But I could see his unearthly eyes gleaming in the shadow as Dez stepped close to me. I raised my arms and let Dez pat me down. He was just short of overly familiar in his thoroughness and stiffened as his hand fell on the hard object I'd tucked into the back of my waistband. He yanked it out and brought it out in front of us.

"It's my cell phone," I stated, a bit snappish for effect.

Which it was. Closed and quiet, hardly a threat.

Dez held it toward the vampire in the doorway. I saw the dismissive flap of his hand in the dark. I rolled my eyes and took it back.

"Thanks so much," I said, tucking the phone back into the place I normally holstered my pistol. It felt comfortable there and it was out of the way.

Dez finished the pat down, leaving my wallet and my father's puzzle unmolested in my pockets, and then escorted me toward the concealed stairs. The eerie-eyed vampire preceded us down the steep stone steps. It felt like we were descending a tilted well. Once again I had a sense of water nearby that rose as we went down below its unseen surface, and the sounds I'd thought came from the clerk's well swelled as we continued. We pa.s.sed through layer on layer of ghosts, descending by centuries until even the Roman soldiers patrolling a phantom riverside were far above our heads. By the time we reached the bottom, the sound was much too loud to be another well, but there was no sign of real water other than some clinging moisture and moss on the walls.

We went down a twisted, arched pa.s.sage and stepped out into a large, vaulted stone chamber that was lit entirely by candles as long and wide as my arm. I wondered if it was the same place where Barnaby had seen the broken amphorae. Energy seemed to lie at its edges like a live thing held leashed and ready. The room had the intense feel of a place meant for rituals that shouldn't see the light of day. The room, shrouded with the roiling stink of vampires and their restless red-and-black auras, was unevenly five-sided, and arched doorways cut the walls on all sides. We'd entered on the shortest wall, and directly opposite, in the apex of the crooked pentagon's crown, was a low wooden platform. One of the other arches looked onto the back of the platform at one end. A handful of vampires, demi-vamps, and Red Guard a.s.sistants stood around the edges of the room, watching us with a coil of eldritch yellow light beneath their feet. Within the darkened arches, eyes gleamed orange like h.e.l.lfire from pale smudges. Two male vampires were waiting for us on the dais, one seated and smiling just a touch, the other standing back a little, his expression one of panic barely held in check. He was bowed down by something, and I could see a bend of yellow light around his body. I wondered who he was and why he seemed to be held prisoner there. I knew I'd interrupted the usual flow of business and I hoped the strange tableau indicated nothing sinister to my purpose, but I wouldn't have bet on it. The seated vampire stood up as we drew near. He looked more like someone you'd expect to be running the local stevedores' union than a film vampire-stocky, heavy featured, scarred on face and hands, self-conscious in his tailored suit. My unsettling escort stopped at the edge of the platform and glared at Dez and then stepped aside while Dez faded back to the wall.

The husky one from the chair shot an uneasy glance at the silver-eyed vampire. Then he gave me a hollow smile and took half a step forward, closing the distance between us to a couple of feet. With the platform giving him added height, I was still tall enough to see the frightened vampire over his shoulder, but just barely.

"Miss Blaine," the one nearest me started. "Pleased you've come round. We all hoped as you'd be here sooner. I'm Henry Glick." He emphasized "hope" as if I'd disappointed him. His accent was working-cla.s.s, with the Hs softened almost to silence.

I took Glick's proffered hand with reluctance. I was under no illusion that this was a social visit, but I needed to be polite if I was pet.i.tioning his aid. I hated the touch of vampires, though his was much cooler and less nauseating than most. I still took my hand back as quickly as good manners allowed and stepped away a little.

I glanced at the cowering creature behind him. "Have I interrupted something?"

"Not so much. Don't pay that any mind." But as he said it, his gaze slipped to the side and his mouth was stiff, like someone telling an uncomfortable lie.

"Mr. Glick," I started. "I came here on behalf of a . . . former Brother of St. James. I know there's no great love between St. John and St. James's, but I think we may be of use to each other." "How's that?" Glick asked, licking his lips. A nervous gesture.

"I'm a stranger here, so I'm not entirely sure of the situation, but I suspect there's been a change of management up the street at St. James. Is that true?"

"Ah. Yeah. Clever way o' putting it."

So we'd guessed right about a power grab at St. James's. That didn't cheer me, since it was probably Alice who'd s.n.a.t.c.hed the reins. I felt eyes on me and a chill that pushed through my body, sharp as a knife. A frown creased my face and I tried to clear it away, not wanting to offend the man I was going to ask for help. The resulting expression must have been stiff.

"I believe your rival up the street," I continued, slower, trying to feel my way through the shoals of the situation, "has taken a friend of my employer and a friend of mine prisoner. I'd like to get them back and I think the only way to do it will be to take the current Primate of St. James down."

"Why would you think I'd help you?"

I felt as if I were dragging every syllable from him.

I used the information Marsden had provided. "Because I believe the Primate of St. James has brought the asetem-ankh-astet to your doorstep. She's violated the covenant set long ago among the three clans of London. Asetem are supposed to stay south of the Thames, aren't they? Yet I saw them only a couple of nights ago not a hundred feet from the doors of St. James's church."

"True it is, Miss Blaine. That was the covenant. And the asetem do roam in Clerkenwell, but we-" "Then why haven't you done anything about it?" I asked, losing a bit of my patience. The apparently trapped vampire behind Glick writhed and looked down at the floor and then back up at me as if he were trying to direct my eyes to something, but I couldn't risk pulling my attention away from Glick long enough to study the slick-looking patch of stone he stared at.

Glick sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Because I'm no longer the Primate of St. John." He shot a glance over his shoulder, and something stirred in the shadows of the nearest arch. "She is." "Harper, dear. You were just a day too late," said a female voice, and then it giggled with a greater measure of madness than Chast.i.ty's unbalanced laughter had contained.

Most of the arches filled with the pale white presence of the asetem-ankh-astet as they stepped into the verges of the light, their orange-glowing eyes dimming in the room's illumination. The coil of yellow power around the edge of the room shivered and crept higher up the walls, closing the room in a protective circle. I looked toward the empty arch behind the platform where the voice came from. A slender female strolled out of the darkness, dragging it with her like a train. Alice. She wore some kind of skintight black stuff that looked more like bandages or a winding sheet than clothing, leaving only her head, forearms, and feet uncovered. A bright red choker circled her throat, dangling ruby beads on glowing white skin. Her eyes burned from shadowed sockets above lips stained the deep wine color of a fresh bruise. Wine: that had been the color of her hair when last I'd seen her in Seattle-staked through the chest on the floor of the burning house. Now her hair had gone the dark auburn of dried blood. "Imagine, trying to suborn my underlings like that," she said. "Naughty, naughty," she added, her voice resonant with pressure against the old geas between us. The geas was a magical compulsion between us; one I'd forced her into so she'd let me live if I let her get to Edward. It bound us both equally. I should have wondered harder about the lingering effect of the geas that kept me from speaking of certain things, or doing them, after I'd presumed her dead. But I hadn't, and now I was going to pay for that. A dark-haired, bearded man stepped out of the arch behind her and stopped a few paces back, watching the show. A phantom black strand of magic unreeled between him and Alice while another reached out to touch the spooky-eyed creature beside me. A third strand, white and heavier than the others, stretched between the creature and Alice, closing the unnatural triangle. The new man seemed familiar. . . . He carried his own cloud of ugliness that boiled with glimpses of tormented, crying faces. Then I remembered where I'd seen him before. "Ezra?" I asked.

He gave a small, crooked smile and tilted his head. "Ah, no. But how would you know? I am Simeon. My apprentice left this world long ago. But he was useful in making me as you see me now. Before he died, we discovered a great deal about the making of clay men and the binding of souls, which has been invaluable in my work here. I'm wroth with you for destroying my golem. It was a masterpiece." He'd made the golem of Will. I cringed, thinking of what must have been done to make it so big, strong, and real. Real enough to fool Michael; strong enough to walk around for a week or more. My stomach curdled and I tasted bile in the back of my mouth as more pieces fell into place. Blood and bandages, a sorcerer below St. John's, and Alice up and walking where she shouldn't have been. Alice must have been the creature in the jars filled with blood. I wondered how he'd done it, how he'd st.i.tched her back together, and how- The word slipped out. "How?"

Alice had strolled to Glick's side and then half a step past him, eclipsing him. She raised one hand toward the silver-eyed creature beside me. "Kreanou," she murmured. "Very good."

Kreanou-was that a name or a t.i.tle?-made a sound a lot like a growl and pinned his spooky gaze on her as if he would devour her in a single bite if he had the chance. But he didn't move. Alice smirked. She was on the dais, several steps above me, so she could look down at me. It was barely enough extra height: We were almost eye to eye.

"How did I survive the fire? The Pharaohn, of course. Wygan followed me to the house. But not for me, Harper. For you." A minute sharpness in her voice gave her fury and bitterness away. "He wanted to be sure you'd survive whatever happened. You have no idea how often he's looked over your shoulder, or for how long. Like a guardian angel." She gave her mad giggle once again, her eyes glittering. "Or maybe I should say, 'like a guardian beast'?"

I narrowed my eyes and kept my mouth shut over the urge to spit. Or vomit. Her aura had never been pleasant but it was a vile thing now. Twice dead, twice resurrected, blood-soaked, mad, and burning with her own fury, she was Hate walking.

"He took me from the fire. You and the others almost destroyed me, but he saved me. He bathed me in blood, soaked me in it, drowned me in it."

I could see it as she spoke, like a film blazoned in fire on the glimmering, cold air. He dragged her from the house as Cameron had dragged Carlos and hid her in a place of cold stone and salt water. He did murder and let blood run like a brook. Her body, cracked and blackened like a cinder, drank the blood, swelling with it and healing itself, the pores of her skin like a million tiny mouths. For months he nurtured her on blood and the poison of his mind. Then, beneath the surface of a swelling pool of gore, he cut her into pieces. . . .

". . . and he put me into the jars, filled with the blood that kept me alive, healing my burns. I was just too . . . large to heal in a single piece, he said. But the blood would keep me and mend my flesh. He promised me Simeon's help when I rose. How was I to know it would take so long? What could I do?" she added, her hand curled elegantly as she made a small shrug. Her black bandages rippled and hitched over her still-raw joints. "He owned me then. And I owe him. And what he wants is you." The mood was broken as I felt my phone vibrate in the small of my back. It stopped after one buzz. Then it started up again in a moment and went on for three more cycles. Michael's signal at last. They'd located Will and were coming to meet me. I didn't know if they had Will or not and I hoped they wouldn't get too close or do anything stupid if I wasn't at the rendezvous when they arrived. They may have had what they'd gone for, but I didn't and I couldn't just leave, not with Alice preening and purring in front of me.

"You didn't have to take Will to get me. I was coming anyway," I ground out as my guts churned and settled again slowly.

She made a pout. "Oh, you don't think I believe that, do you? That you would come just for Edward? Oh, no. The Pharaohn-ankh-astet said to take the thing most dear to you. And here he was! I already had your picture from when I first watched you for Wygan and seduced that silly man to beat you. Simeon knew just how to use the photo to make you desperate to come here. Nightmares are so much more persuasive than pleas, aren't they? How could I resist? When I'm done, I get Edward's domain in London with the help of the asetem and Simeon, and all I had to do was take Purcell," she said, waving dismis sively at the trapped vampire behind Glick, "and your William. This great fool," she added, flicking a scarlet-tipped finger toward Glick, "has been the last little cherry on my cake. And I'll have done what Edward failed to do-hold all of London in my hand, all the vampires beneath my rule. Mine. Not his." I felt weak and dizzy. She hadn't just followed me; she'd helped to kill me and she would push me farther into death for the sake of the debt she owed Wygan. I wondered what had become of my a.s.sailant once he'd left the courtroom the last time I saw him. Yet another thing I'd have to discover if I wanted to put my mind at ease or at least shut down the mental screaming that was threatening to overwhelm me.

Alice laughed, the sound purely insane and dangerous, rolling across the still room like an earthquake. Glick stiffened. "For the Pharaohn? That filthy white b.a.s.t.a.r.d? You said they was breaking from the Pharaohn. You said it was for our advantage. Knew I shouldn't have caved to the likes of you! You brought the asetem among us, you brought him-that Jew," he spat with a glare at Simeon, "and you turned us on ourselves."

Alice gave him a pitying glance with a lifted brow. Simeon didn't react at all.

Glick took a step away from her, glancing at Simeon and picking a route far from either of them. "You lied to us," he said, amazed. "A thing like you? Deceived me? Deceived the Brotherhood?" Alice's expression turned to a slow sneer of disgust. "Weak, useless fool." She flicked her scarlet-tipped claw at him. "Kreanou. Relieve me of this . . . thing."

A low hiss rose on my other side. I whipped my head to look at the silver-eyed monster beside me, but it was already moving. I shifted my glance toward Glick, Alice, and Simeon.

A look of terror flashed across Glick's face. All eyes watched as he spun around and bolted with the unnatural speed and strength of his kind, streaking for the nearest open doorway. A black wind raced after him, edged in brick red, and blocked the door, congealing into the shape of the silver-eyed vampire-or whatever it was-with saber fangs curving from its impossibly gaping mouth. Simeon and Alice turned as one and walked a few steps toward them, Alice laughing with maniacal glee. I heard a noise from Purcell and I dashed to him, hoping to get him out of the inevitable line of fire. "No," he gasped.

The room shivered in the Grey, flashing silver and red by turns. Something shrieked and Purcell collapsed to his knees as if he'd been scythed down. I closed the distance, but a rushing cold sprang up from the floor and gripped me like an icy fist. I was trapped as surely as if I'd been caged in steel bars. "I tried to warn you," Purcell whispered near my feet. "You stepped on the switch. Now you're stuck in one of these d.a.m.nable spell cages, like me! Another of Simeon's horrid inventions. Don't try anything magical or they freeze you like a fly in amber."

"What about you?"

"It just crushes me if I move. I shouldn't have flinched. But poor Henry . . ."

Glick screamed, and under the sound of Alice's laughter, I could hear something tearing wetly apart. Glick's screams stopped abruptly and the smell of blood thickened the air. Purcell whimpered as the spell squeezed down on him.

"Why, John," Alice said, returning to our side of the dais, "you've got our guest stuck." Her smile was sickening.

She turned and swept the room with her glittering stare. "There will be no more resistance from any of you! The kreanou has no mercy. He listens only to me and he only wishes to destroy." She pointed back toward the arch where Glick had met his quick and gruesome end. "Thatis what happens to fools who try to cross me."

My Greyness made movement into torture, and every degree of rotation ripped into me as if I were bound in barbed wire. Turning back to face Alice felt like I was being flayed alive, but I managed it. Alice was watching me. "How nice of you to truss yourself up. Now all I have to do is deliver you and it's all mine." Then she added, her voice not much louder than a whisper, but piercing and clear as shattering crystal, "You should know. You shouldwant to know, what it is you're going to do." "I'm not going to do anything for you or the Pharaohn." That didn't sound as commanding as I'd hoped; more a pathetic whimper.

She just smiled back and purred words as sickening as venom. "It's going to be lovely. He's been trying for so long and now he finally has you here, alone, and Edward where he can't run. It's all been so very perfect. He said you're a gate." She tilted her head back and forth as she gave her tiny, evil smile, and I thought of my father's puzzle, tucked into my pocket. It was a key. . . . "I don't see it. A gate. Well"-she twitched her eyebrows, dismissing the incongruity-"I suppose you will be when we're done. I am disappointed, however. I hoped you'd make more trouble. He says you have to die just a bit more. I wouldn't mind if it were a lot more, but . . . well. He wouldn't like it. And I have my demesne to look after now."

She turned and beckoned. The kreanou, glowering, blood splashed, and ravenous, prowled over to her. "The House of Detention," she said, her voice taking on the strange blue shiver of command. I could see the strand connecting her to the kreanou shimmer with it. "We'll see what the butcher makes of her. And if not him, your turn." Alice glanced at me again. "It would be a pity if the kreanou gives in to his nature. Dez!"

I didn't have time to wonder about the kreanou's nature and the connection between the creature, Alice, and her sorcerer. I was pretty sure someone was going to kill me-or do their best impression-in a few minutes, and I wasn't quite sure I believed that Greywalkers always bounced back. It hadn't worked that way for Dad. I preferred not to test Marsden's theories if possible, and I just plain didn't want to die! The wavering demi-vamp dragged his steps to the dais. It was obvious he didn't like what had happened to Glick, but he didn't have a lot of options other than following the orders of his new Primate or being the next stress test for the kreanou.

"Take them to the House of Detention. You can dispose of Purcell there and leave her for the ghost. It's really very poetic, don't you think? Letting the ghost have a chance at killing the ghost killer?" She looked me in the eye with a red gleam of hate. "It wouldn't work if you weren't what you are. And don't worry: I'll take such good care of your dear William."

FORTY.

She couldn't kill me, so she'd do something worse to Will. I Sprayed that Michael and Marsden had found an opportunity to grab Will without waiting for me.

As Purcell and I were prodded out of the room by Dez with the glowering kreanou in his wake, I tried to think of a new way to thwart Wygan's plans. I didn't have my dad's option-and I wouldn't have taken it if I had. I'd come close when I'd been new to Greywalking but I didn't think giving up was a good idea anymore. Marsden had seemed to think just getting me out of the way would stymie whatever Wygan was up to, which meant there wasn't a new Greywalker around with similar talents. But that wouldn't stop Wygan from trying to make another like he'd pushed to make my father and then me into the shape he wanted. If it came to a fight, I might not survive.

I wasn't sure, specifically, what the kreanou was, but the term "killing machine" fit it in general pretty well. I didn't want to tangle with it if I hoped to live and save Will.

I kept Will in the front of my mind, even through the torturing jolts the cage stabbed into me with every step, even when my thoughts tried to wander to Quinton and whatever terrors were building back home, even when I wondered about the strange little puzzle in my pocket and what a gate might do with its own key. I focused on the one immediate thing: I had to get Will out.

We pa.s.sed through the magical barrier around the room in a haze of pain. Once outside of the ceremonial chamber, the cages dropped off and Purcell and I could move easier, but we were both drained from the agony of the short walk. It was wretched going with Dez and the kreanou prodding us along through the buried catacombs.

"What's this place?" I muttered to Purcell.

"We're in the bones of the city. The catacombs and old tunnels. Down where the rivers used to flow until they covered 'em over and made 'em into sewers. You can hear the Fleet muttering its old songs if you listen," he murmured back, misunderstanding what I'd meant to ask.

"No, I mean what's this House of Detention?"