"What is your problem?"

"My agenda is the same as always. Truth for all. Knowledge is power. Equality for the ma.s.ses."

"Oh, G.o.ddess," she muttered. "Here we go again."

"You used to agree with me."

"I agreed that the city was a decadent cesspit, but did I help you destroy it?"

"The Mongols destroyed it from without," he said. "And rebellion by the abused companions from within."

"And we both know who the brains behind both attacks was."

He put a finger to his lips. "My dear - "

"Did it do any good?" she demanded. "We both know that it did not. The survivors went even more conservative. They abandoned the old ways completely. Did they return to being protectors of the mortals and treating companions as cherished lovers? No, they did not. Out of fear they enslaved companions with even stricter rules that bound them as property. They organized the Nighthawks - my children - as servants to their new Council, to their petty, perverse, inflexible Laws of the Blood."

"And while they messed up our society, you did what?" he questioned.

Valentine let out her breath in a deep whoosh. She knew better than to get up on a high horse with Ibis. "Hey, I tamed Istvan," she replied, pointing out at least one proactive action in the last few hundred years. "He would have killed every vampire on the planet if I hadn't had a talk with him."

"He ended up working for the Council."

"Which did heed someone who could take out any Enforcers that went bad. Even the Strigoi Council has a few good ideas. They have kept the underneath together."

"They've kept a stranglehold on our society. There's nothing but repression. There's been no growth, no change, no adapting to modern times. They teach our kind to enslave, but not to love. I will agree that most of the Enforcers have fought for justice. They have punished evil. They remain your children, though most of them don't even know you exist, dear Lady Valentia. The Council hasn't corrupted them. It's time you came out to lead the Nighthawks again."

"Oh, no, it isn't."

"Once the strigoi population knows about the Scrolls of Silk, and Martina's scientific data, the Nighthawks will have to justify their existence. They'll need you to organize them."

Valentine was on her feet. She leaned forward, her hands flat on the desk. Glaring at Ibis. "You let that information out? Martina was working for you?"

"She did not knowingly cooperate with my plans," he answered. "Martina didn't know much about anything. But her self-centered stupidity made her useful."

Valentine sc.r.a.ped her claws loudly across the polished gla.s.s. She got some satisfaction at Ibis's wincing at the sound. "You know, I think maybe I ripped off the wrong head this evening."

"Don't be peevish, Valentia."

"My name is Valentine. I don't do revolutions."

He was totally unfazed by any declaration she might make. "Then perhaps your Geoffrey will take the proper actions. Perhaps Char will. Perhaps Haven will. Each has their own goals. They are freedom fighters. Each came to the Silk Road looking for something.

Haven wants to help the companions," he informed Valentine. "Char wants to be a superhero, to protect the world of day as well as the world of night. Geoffrey is a modern man. He cannot and will not be trapped in the past. I built the Silk Road for them. All they had to do was come to me and ask for whatever they needed. Of course, they suspected a trap."

"They're smart kids."

"And I built the Silk Road mostly for you."

"Bulls.h.i.t."

"I used Martina. I used Reese. I used poor Ben Siegel and his companion, which I do regret. I did what I had to do to start the revolution - "

"Without getting caught," she interrupted his practiced little speech.

He sat back, and folded his hands again. "Of course. I never get caught."

She held up an index finger. "Excuse me, but I would say that you are well and truly busted."

"Not by you," he said, utterly confident. "If you kill me, it will be a victory for the Council. You'd never let them win a big one. You know the world needs me. Someday, some way, I will change vampire society back to the way the G.o.ddess meant for us to be.

We are meant to work our way back to the light by doing good. Young Char has the right ideas. So do Haven and his online crew."

"His what?"

Ibis was on a roll, and wasn't going to be deflected from his preaching by any questions from her. "So does Geoff." He leveled his dark, intense, persuasive gaze at her. "So do you. I can shape the pattern. It is up to others to bring the pattern to life." "You're as agoraphobic as I am," she realized.

"Worse." He blinked, having deviated from his script. "I can look outside, but can't bear to go out. Everywhere I go, I go in spirit form." He took a moment to look at the lights reflected in the desktop, then raised his gaze to her once more. "Where was I?"

"Revolution. Blah, blah, blah."

"What do you think it means?" he asked softly. "The Law that says 'Beware of the Light'?"

She gestured toward the bright, bright, beautiful city of light behind them. "I've seen what that does to the neon junkies."

He shook his head. "I don't think that's the light the Law means. I think the light they want us to beware of is the light of knowledge."

"Bulls.h.i.t," she replied.

"When did you get to be so reclusive?" he questioned. "So - uninvolved?"

Valentine thought about it, and frowned. "You know, I don't quite remember. When the psychics started dying, maybe. That - hurt."

"It was the fourteenth century," he said, nodding gravely. "You had to be there."

"It's not the fourteenth century anymore," she added, because she knew he would.

"I could use your help again tonight."

His expression and tone had changed. He wasn't talking about anything to do with his revolution now. Valentine relaxed, remembered that she was tired, and sat back in the comfortable leather chair. "What?"

"You did the right thing when you let Ben kill Reese."

"Are you implying that I don't generally do the right thing?"

"You're a lazy flake," he said. "That's the truth, not an implication."

"Now you're insulting me? Me, who holds your life in my hands."

"You do, of course. But you won't take it."

"Why not?"

"You know how fattening I'd be. You've always watched your figure. And now that you work in Hollywood..."

"You insult me," she said, forcibly keeping to a more formal tone. "You, who have never been anything but a troublemaker. And who is not even a Nighthawk."

"Not even?" His heavily arched eyebrows went up. There was amus.e.m.e.nt in his dark eyes. She never had been able to scare him.

No one could. "Do I detect a hint of racial prejudice in your tone, my pretty Valentia?"

"Sn.o.bbery," she countered.

She wished he'd stop calling her by that name. It wasn't even her real name, but a version of it that she'd adopted sometime in the Roman era because her then companion had found her ancient name too hard to p.r.o.nounce. Having had his tongue cut out before he was forced to be a gladiator hadn't helped his speech. Ibis, at least, knew her real name. As she knew his."I'm too old to be a Nighthawk," Ibis reminded her. "You should respect your elders, youngster."

"Is this how you ask for a favor?" They'd always enjoyed bickering with each other, though right now she wasn't sure why she found it pleasant to spar with Ibis. She pulled back from their old pattern, and asked, "What do you want?"

He chuckled. No doubt at her this had better be good tone. "It's Ben," he told her. "The vampire who killed Reese. Reese was a creature invested with great power. Ben has eaten that power, and it is starting to change him."

Change him how? she started to ask, then realized. "He's a child of mine."

"He needs your help to be reborn."

She gave Ibis a hard look. "You planned this, too, didn't you? To distract me from punishing you?"

"It's a distraction," he agreed. "It will give you time to calm down. Not that I really believe you would punish me for doing the right thing."

"I hate when you're like this."

"I know." His features creased in a devilish grin. "But wasn't the fall of the Roman Empire fun?"

"Yeah - but those were mortals we punished, not our own kind."

"Then shame on us for not - "

"Enough!" Valentine held up her hand for silence. She sighed. "Where is this Ben person?"

"My people have him safe. Shall I take you to him?" He started to come around the wide desk.

Valentine shook her head. "Not tonight. I'm sorry if he's suffering, but I'm not up to any more blood rituals tonight."

"Ah, yes." Ibis nodded gravely. "Mr. Haven. That was a good thing you did."

"Yeah. His girlfriend doesn't think so."

She looked out the windows. The world was wide and open, and scary, but from up here it didn't seem so big. The lights were so pretty. She was so tired, and everything was complicated. She needed a day to sleep, really sleep, to dream rather than to think.

Sometimes the answers came in dreams. "I want a bedroom," she said to the man who owned the hotel. "The best room in the house."

He bowed his bald head gravely. "Of course. You deserve only the best."

"Tomorrow I'll take care of your Ben."

"I have your promise?"

"Yes. Of course." As if she would ever deny a rebirth to one of her children. "Las Vegas is going to need a new Enforcer, I suppose."

"A new Guardian of the Night." Ibis used one of the Nighthawks' old t.i.tles. "Defender. Protector. A Hunter for the territory. Tytan.

Bu - "

"Oh, shut the f.u.c.k up."

He bowed. "As the Lady of Snakes wishes.""That isn't shutting up." Valentine turned around. She glanced at the nearest silently watching vampire servant. "I'm going to the lobby first. Then you can show me to my suite." She glanced back at Ibis. "I'll decide what to do about you tomorrow."

Ibis put a finger over his closed mouth, deliberately provoking her by obeying her. In response, she tossed what was left of her long, curling hair, and walked out.

Geoff stood as Valentine approached, trailed at a distance by another vampire. From the look on her face and the vibes she put out, Geoff thought it might be wise to be circ.u.mspect. Instead, he put himself between her and the view of the couch.

"What's up?" he asked. "Where have you been? What's going on?"

"Where's Jebel?" she asked, peering past him at the empty sofa. "Where's the girl?"

Anger flared white hot in her, but Geoff stayed directly in front of her. "Gone," he said.

"I see that. Where?"

"I have no idea." Geoff reached out to touch her shoulder. She felt very tired. "Can't you feel him?"

Her gaze snapped to his, accusing. "When?"

"I have no idea." He spoke the absolute truth. "I was looking around the building. When I came back, they were gone."

"You let her go."

"I'm not Char's keeper." He sure as h.e.l.l wasn't Haven's.

Fury bubbled through her, and jealousy. It seethed beneath the exhaustion. "I'm going to kill her."

"No, you're not." It was another statement of fact, and a declaration of intent. He kept his hand on Valentine's shoulder, knowing she wanted to pull away, to run out into the night and find the mortal that now belonged to her. Geoff projected calm, reason, and sympathy for this sudden loss.

"Why doesn't anyone believe me when I say I'm going to kill them?" Valentine asked. She sounded petulant, but there were tears in her eyes. "He's mine," she added.

"Char can't see it that way. Not yet. She's hardly going to hurt Haven, Val." She glared at him. Silent, seething. "Let me go after her," Geoff suggested. "Let me handle it."

His words were a reminder that he had handled a great deal for her in the last several years. She depended on him. He'd helped her take steps out into the world again, but had been a shield and anchor as well. He also remembered that she and Haven had yet to complete the companion bond. Haven was not completely Valentine's yet.