With my eyes closed, the car felt like a living thing. It glided over the road, sliding into and out of turns with rough grace. It scoffed at the cracks in the asphalt. The roar of the engine promised power, so much power, but it didn't strain. It understood being managed, being held back. The car was a machine, a tool that existed solely for the use of another, and it did not resent its position.

"What will we say?" Emil asked, sounding distracted. He shouldn't have been asking. Richard had already explained everything. But he was anxious. I understood that. I didn't want to be a disappointment, either.

"Nothing unless explicitly asked. We are here for an audience with Master Bronson and, to get to him, we must first be granted sanctuary. If our request is not granted, there will be no maneuvers left. In that case, a quick death would be a mercy." Richard was also nervous. His voice was so flat that even his accent sounded subdued. But his energy jumped and skittered around me. Inside of me. I was full, heavy and stiff with it.

"After I leave the car, wait four minutes before you enter," he said. "That will give me time to introduce myself to Chev."

"She's very formal," Sophie said.

"That won't be a problem for me," Richard said, shrinking her with his words. "My presence will draw attention, so be prepared for an audience. Sydney."

My eyes snapped open, and he swam into focus. My chest tightened at the pleasure of seeing him. His expression didn't soften, but he nodded sharply, as though I'd pa.s.sed inspection. He leaned forward and his finger hooked beneath my chin and pulled it up. I stared into his eyes, pale blue and endlessly deep.

"You must be at your most elegant, your most poised," he murmured. "Look as though you are fit to hang from the arm of a general. If Chev asks you a question, answer simply. If anyone else speaks to you, ignore them. If you do what I have asked, you will please me greatly."

I swallowed as a surge of emotion threatened to choke me. "Yes, sir."

The limo, the body weighted by the steel and insulation required to contain vampire energy, rolled to a stop inside of a short tunnel. Through the windows, tinted nearly black, I could just make out torchlight.

Someone knocked twice on the door, waited a few seconds, then opened it. Richard stepped out, pausing to b.u.t.ton his suit jacket and say something to the valet, then strode away. I started counting, frowning when Emil and the vampiress jostled me as they moved across to the seat Richard had vacated.

"Do you think this will work?" Emil asked, running a half-dropped fang around the raw cuticle of his thumb.

"We'll find out soon enough." The vampiress was wearing her black hair and her Sophie face.

"You've told the others?"

"They're waiting." Sophie ran her fingers along the st.i.tching of the leather seats. "Those of us who remain."

"Have you heard from your brother?"

"He sent word." Her expression flattened so dramatically that her lips barely moved when she spoke. "His pledge was rejected. He's on his way back, but he lost everything in the gambit. This is our last resort. I wonder if it's worth putting up with him."

"He's not so bad."

"No? Pavel would disagree."

"Pavel was thinking only of himself, not the rest of us."

"And who was Abel thinking of, when he filled him full of Radia?"

I wanted to tell them to shut their mouths, to stop talking badly about him, but Richard had forbidden me from speaking to them unless they were going against his orders.

"You won't have to serve him. This Bronson is a true master. Real power. No more scrimping by." Emil's hand closed on Sophie's and she relaxed slightly. "We'll know if we're in by the end of the night. No more waiting."

Emil's gaze swept from window to window, not pausing on me. I continued to count.

"I'm too hungry to wait," Sophie said. "Let's go."

"Not yet," I whispered, wincing at the burn in my throat. "Fifty more seconds."

Emil snorted. "From pain in the a.s.s to exacting compliance in a matter of days. You were less irritating when you were resisting." He opened the door. "Come on, stickler."

Emil and Sophie pulled me along, making me stumble as I bent to sort out the layers of my long dress. White lace over white satin. It stretched across my arms, but left my neck and shoulders bare. My skin was chafed where Amy had roughly dried me. I hadn't been fast enough showering and dressing.

The covered entrance to the hotel zigzagged lazily, cutting off the light before opening into a magnificent lobby full of plants and fountains. Sleek mahogany walls soared upward several stories. A string quartet sat just inside the ma.s.sive room, playing a nameless tune. Undead filled the room, some in starched uniforms, others showcasing decades of fashion. It should have been impressive, but I had eyes for one thing only.

Richard stood at the far end of the lobby, to the side of a wide staircase. Something shifted inside of me at the sight of that staircase, a twinge like phantom pain. Richard turned. The twinge and all of those vampires faded away. There was only him.

The torchlight caressed him, making his blond hair glow and his pale skin appear almost translucent. He touched my mind, summoning me, and I couldn't help but smile. The hands fell away, and I moved slowly, keeping my shoulders back and my head high. Dignified. An acceptable reflection of him, of his power and status.

Vampires moved aside to let us pa.s.s and conversation came to a halt. Hundreds of vampires and almost no sound but the heels of our shoes, and the slow-drawn strings. And a sound like water falling. I glanced at one of the large potted plants, at the devise spinning lazily. A rain stick. It must have been filled precisely, calibrated exactly. The sound of it, the idea of it, made me shiver.

Then Richard turned away and it was as if the sun moved off my face and left me in shadow. My legs grew heavy and I looked down, surprised that nothing physically slowed me even though it now felt as if I were walking through mud.

A female opened her mouth as I pa.s.sed, then curled her nose. I smelled like wet pennies and wires smoldering in the woodwork.

The stringed instruments lost their harmony, then halted altogether for a moment before starting up again with a new tune. Words whispered through my head, half-formed lyrics accompanied by images, feelings. My cold hand on a gearshift. The rising roar of an engine. Flakes of snow moving like a shotgun blur in the tunnel of the headlights.

My left arm began to tingle, then to ache. The discomfort spread to my chest. I wrapped my right hand around my biceps and ma.s.saged gently. That only made it hurt worse.

"Faster," Emil murmured behind me, punctuating the word with a rough poke.

"Sydney," Richard said mildly, facing me. "Come here, if you wouldn't mind."

I straightened, cursing myself for having slumped, and quickened my pace. One foot in front of the other, toes slightly turned out. Swaying, but not sashaying. Walking like a woman ought to walk in order to make a male proud.

The straps of my heels dug into my ankles. Why was I wearing such impractical shoes? That fleeting thought filled me with guilt as Richard's gaze met mine. Because he wanted me to. There was no other reason.

He stood in front of a female with long, shiny black hair and tawny, luminous skin. Her shirt was crisp and white, and a red silk tie draped from her throat. She tilted her head back and blinked toward the ceiling for a moment before focusing on me again. Another male stood on her other side, darker, taller, and he felt... My gaze slid off of him. He hurt to look at.

I could barely look away from the female. Her power loomed, large and wide, infusing the entire room. Beside her, Richard looked like a spot of interference, a television channel that had lost its signal. That must be Chev. Her name in my head elicited a spark that made me stumble. I knew her, but couldn't remember how.

Above the lobby, a row of smoked-gla.s.s windows obscured booths separated by thick walls. The booths were red inside. The tables were hollow and filled with water and delicate floating flowers. I knew that, somehow, and remembering it sp.a.w.ned a longing so intense I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from making a sound.

Whatever I wanted wasn't behind that gla.s.s now. There was someone up there, though, whose power swam through the gla.s.s to brush against me. My breath caught in my aching throat and I forced my gaze to the floor. That seemed safe.

"We seek sanctuary," Richard said, raising his voice to make himself heard. Because this was important, an important moment for him. For us. The sound of his voice sent a thrill wriggling down my spine. "Myself, my a.s.sociates, and my human companion. We come tonight in the spirit-"

A wave of murmurs rolled through the crowd. The vampires turned, and over their heads I could just make out a door crashing open. Bare feet slapped against the tile, and the crowd rippled as a woman shoved through, ejecting into our path.

"Dear G.o.d," Sophie murmured. "She survived."

She was thin as a girl, with long dark hair and fine features that were too pale. A white bandage encircled her throat. My heart began to pound and my stomach swam until I had to swallow to keep it down.

"Emil," the girl croaked, tears running down her face. "You came for me."

Emil exhaled sharply, then his hand bit down on my arm. Chill power surged through me, cutting off the sudden, sharp pain. He laughed and, around us, the floor lit up with snickering and amused commentary.

"I expected better security," Richard said, irritation thickening his accent and snapping his words off at the ends. "This is highly irregular."

"Isn't that always the problem with humans? They are so unpredictable." Chev stepped forward, her dark eyes lightening as if stars were shooting within them. I flinched, one hand flying up to shield my face. Sophie took hold of me, and the two of them tugged on my arms.

A male vampire, s.h.a.ggy-haired with long sideburns, appeared beside the girl. He closed an arm around her and urged her back, gentle even as she fought him. Gentle even as she clawed at him, screaming for Emil.

"You should have killed her," Sophie said under her breath. "You let her get too attached."

As if it was Mickey's fault.

My stomach cramped and sweat bloomed across my back. Mickey. Thurston.

There are times when words evaporate, when their limited meanings aren't enough to do justice to an experience.

I'd never been able to talk when I was in a lot of pain, and I couldn't be articulate when I was truly p.i.s.sed. Right then, as I was marched toward a vampire who despised me while my friend cried her heart out for the sucker who'd nearly killed her, all I wanted to do was scream and break everything I could get my hands on.

Rusty and jagged came the memories that Richard f.u.c.king Abel had hidden from me. Who I was. Where I came from. I'd only remembered my name because he kept repeating it, using it like a leash. He said it every time he made me thank him for blood-bonding me. My anger was a world-drowning deluge.

But I couldn't lose it, because I was in a hotel full of G.o.dd.a.m.n vampires. Because Richard Abel was still present enough inside my head-I could feel the part that belonged to him, struggling to rea.s.sert obedience-that he could crack my mind with a thought. Because Malcolm was standing beside Chev, watching me toddle forward like a lapdog, and if he cared for me half as much as I did for him, it had to be killing him.

Breaking something wouldn't fix Mickey and it wouldn't get Abel out of my head. It wouldn't fix anything else. I tried to open to Malcolm, wincing when Abel's presence flooded me. Not over me, but through me, calling to me. I went, a part of my mind grateful to stand by his side. He smiled and I swelled with adoration so ma.s.sive and sweet that the thinking part of me thinned to a sliver.

Not again. I wasn't fully free of him, but I wasn't going to allow him to shut me down, not again. I latched blindly on to the vampire energy around me, reaching past the envelope of his power. It was a big room and these weren't baby vamps. I might as well have put my finger into an electrical socket. Power hit me, a frozen slap. Chev stiffened, withdrawing, but not quite putting a lid on herself. I registered that reaction, unable to think on it as Malcolm's pain flowed over me, slick and lethal as razor blades.

Abel touched me and I gasped.

"It's all right, dear," he said through bared teeth, taking hold of my elbow, gleeful about throwing me in Mal's face. "We'll be safe here."

Control over my body returned to me in pieces, starting with the muscles shivering under his touch. The pressure building inside threatened to burst.

"I request sanctuary," Abel said, projecting his voice. "For myself and on behalf of my hive. I agree to follow all covenants of residence."

"Granted," Chev said, mildly enough, but the building seemed to tremble. "All humans must be spoken for at Tenth World. Do you claim her and does she declare obedience to you?"

"I claim Sydney Kildare," Abel said, and the words tolled inside my head. I wanted to belong to him. Chev ran her tongue over her teeth before she asked, in a slow drawl, "So noted. Are there any objections?"

A dark, slipping sensation poured out of Malcolm, immediately overrun by a surge of cold will. The power throbbing in the private room above us came from Master Bronson, and he was exerting it now, directing it at Malcolm.

The other vampires grew louder as they departed out the doors and down the hallways. Malcolm hadn't objected, so the show was over and they were off to find better entertainment. Chev's gaze didn't move from me, but fine lines appeared around her mouth.

"How the knife must twist inside of you, Kelly," Abel said. "If you were free, you could claim anybody as yours, but the servant must do what the master decrees."

I couldn't even feel Malcolm's anger over my own, but my dress suddenly lit in the golden glow cast from his eyes. Chev's finger touched my chin and I winced. If Abel was a car battery, she was her own power plant.

"Don't be afraid, Sydney," Abel said, playing at concern, but clearly concerned about her. "She must determine that you are not under my influence."

I was half-blinded by the brilliance of her eyes.

"Has he bitten you?" she asked.

"No." My voice was a husk of its old self. I barely managed the single syllable.

She searched my eyes, the sparks in her own subdued.

"Are you here freely?" she asked.

"I'm here of my own will," I offered. "Freely."

"Do you understand that you may only remain here so long as you obey this vampire, agreeing to follow his orders? Do you understand that, if you break the rules of this house and I order punishment, even death, that he will administer it?"

G.o.d, it was like the most f.u.c.ked-up wedding vows ever made. The urge to laugh crept up on me, so I closed my mouth and nodded. Chev's eyes brightened, and I blinked through the leftover flashes. Malcolm's concern drummed a beat against me. My hand twitched, I wanted to reach for him so badly. But Bronson's power coated him, holding him in place. Stopping him from pulling me away from Abel. But he hadn't stopped everything. The music played on. The string quartet played on, "Gaslight Kill" by Shinzu Cormera. Abel was using me. Bronson was using me against Malcolm. Mal had planted a song that he knew would wake me.

"Before this audience, do you declare your obedience to Richard Abel?" Chev asked.

I wanted to belong to him. I wanted him dead. I turned toward him; I couldn't help that. But I could do something else. Abel had f.u.c.ked me up, but his power couldn't hold me, not when I had a hundred vampires to draw from, including the mistress of the territory and a master.

"No."

It didn't register for about ten seconds, then his blue eyes narrowed. His will tapped against mine and I pulled more vampire energy and shoved it between us.

"She asked if-"

"I'm not the one who's hard of hearing." I would have screamed if I could have. Instead I rasped, "My answer is no."

His eye twitched an instant before energy spewed out of him. His palm swept to within a centimeter of my face before Malcolm caught his wrist. Mal's other arm eased around my waist and pulled me back.

"There will be no violence in this house. You agreed to it." Chev raised a hand and summoned an employee, as if this was a regular part of the checking-in process. "This human is not yours. Now let's see about getting you and your baggage stowed."

Chapter Fifteen.

Malcolm pulled and pushed me through a paneled door beneath the stairs and down the back halls of the hotel. I caught an impression of carts and uniformed waitstaff before my knees gave out. He picked me up without a word and I curled into him. His touch and scent were so right after so much wrong.

"We're almost there," Mal said. "Hold on."

As if where we were mattered. Now that I was safe and with him, what had happened didn't matter. I smiled.