"She killed her! How can you just stand there? Do something!" Lady Portae shrieked, kneeling at the body of her sister, who would forever remain in Haunt. Keilor might have survived a similar wound, but he was young and fit. There was no hope of that here.

Jasmine hid her face in her hands, forgetting the blood until she'd smeared it all over her face.

"What happened?"

Jasmine looked up at the sound of Keilor's stern, concerned voice. His lips tightened at the sight of her pale, blood-smeared face and contracted pupils. He'd already heard Raziel's report and sent him off with a sample of the tea, but he needed more details. "What happened?" he asked again, more gently.

Jasmine looked up, saw Rihlia's stricken face, and her throat closed over the words. How could she tell her best friend that her mother had tried to kill her, twice? Instead, she closed her eyes and bent her head, trying to will her ears shut. The sound of Portae's shrill voice faded as somebody dragged her off. Silence roared in the white room.

"Talk to me, Jasmine," Keilor said again, a hint of fear for her in his commanding tone. "Tell us what happened."

"Nothing," she whispered, and winced. Those weren't the words he needed, were nothing close to what he wanted from her, and she knew it.

He took her by the chin and raised her face, giving her head a little shake when her wild eyes darted to the tense Jayems and pale, bright-eyed Rihlia.

"I am in charge of justice, here, wife, and you will tell me what happened. I want the truth from you, and I want it now. What happened here?"

A low groan escaped her at his compelling command, and she wrenched her bloody face away, trying to escape his will. Maybe she was in shock, but Rihlia seemed to be the priority now. She didn't want to hurt her.

He stood up, looked at her and circled the room, studying the furniture. "You sat here, didn't you?" he asked with implacable purpose, pointing to the overturned chair. "It carries your scent." She nodded, biting her lip. Wariness churned inside her, but it wasn't a betrayal to answer questions whose answers he already knew, was it?

Cocking his head, he studied the overturned table and tea service, his face thoughtful, dangerous. "The direction this table tipped tells me that Rhapsody leapt over it to get at you, likely knocking the chair over at the same time." He moved closer until he was stood over her, studying her scared face. "What made her do that, wife?"

Jasmine closed her eyes, shutting him out, trying to ignore the way he kept calling her wife, reminding her of his intimate authority over her. "She just did."

He stared at her, the fathomless darkness in his eyes weighting her, making it difficult to breathe. "Before or after you brought up the poisoned tea?"

"It wa-" she snapped her mouth shut, choking off the denial. She couldn't lie to him. But what could she say that wouldn't hurt her friend?

It didn't matter. He drew his own conclusions anyway. His expression savage, Keilor glanced at Jayems. "Are you satisfied with what went on for the moment, Lord Jayems? I can bring you more information after I question..." he trailed off, considered Jasmine, and finished, "The witness."

"But-" Rihlia tried to break in, bewildered.

Jayems cut her off. "Go," he told Keilor, jerking his head towards the door. "I will deal with the rest here."

He said nothing on the way back to their rooms, but the moment Keilor opened the door, he rounded on her, hissing, "Are you trying to get yourself killed, woman? Is that what you want?"

Cold lips trembling, she said nothing, just stared up at him and shook with shock.

Swearing, he called for a bath and then looked away for a moment, clenching his fists. Taking a deep breath for patience and another for his fraying nerves, he told her, "Do you know what would have happened to you at the hands of another Haunt, wife? I can think of many that would use your silence as an excuse to get rid of you forever. Why are you being stubborn about this? You are risking not only yourself, but our child."

A defeated sigh escaped her. "Wiley doesn't deserve this," she whispered, her shoulders slumping.

The bath shut off with a click, and Keilor shut his eyes and shunted his adrenaline to the task of undressing his lover, who was still covered with the gore of her kill. "You accomplish nothing for Rihlia by holding your tongue, Dragonfly. Jayems will make certain that she is told everything."

At the endearment, her breath hitched, and she flung herself at Keilor, half naked and crying.

"Hush, little one," he soothed, stroking her back. "Just tell me what happened. I know it wasn't your fault." He could not relax until he had every detail. Then and only then could he deal with her emotions, and almost as urgently, his own.

She pulled away a little, and he stripped off the rest of her splattered clothing, helping her into the bath and sitting on the edge. Slowly her shaking stopped as he bathed her, and she finally told him the complete tale. Only then did the tension of duty drain from him, leaving behind a flood of feeling and a need for comfort that could only be dealt with in one way.

Jasmine was just as frantic as he was when he urged her from the hot water and into his arms, uncaring that his clothes got soaked, encouraging her as she ripped them off in her frenzy to get to him. He dried her with his hands and the heat of their passion, giving her love, making everything all right again.

Need. Heat. Wanting.

They took each other in the depths of the big bed, and satisfied them all.

Jasmine felt half dead with emotion afterwards, barely rousing herself to whimper a protest when her lover withdrew, leaving her only half of a whole.

"Shh," he told her, kissing her temple and pulling her into the comfort of his arms. "I have to go, but not for a little while. You need to rest."

For a while there was quiet. Then, "Is it always so hard, Keilor?" She could not forget Rhapsody's death; she could still see the blood.

Sighing, he gathered her closer for a moment, understanding immediately what she was asking. "No, and more's the pity."

CHAPTER 30.

Jayems' face was savage as he paced in front of his desk. "How many more vipers are we going to find at our ankles, Keilor? Or should I be asking how long before one of them sinks its fangs in again?"

Keilor crossed his arms and waited. He was not the only one tired of murder attempts centering on his wife. A thought struck with sudden force. "Does Rhapsody have anything to do with Yesande, Jayems?" He shook his head, answering his own question. "Of course not. She would not approve a strike against her own daughter, or would she?" he asked, leveling a questioning look at his cousin.

"Who can say now? *The dead are notoriously tight lipped'," Jayems said, quoting a grisly proverb. "A search of her rooms revealed nothing, not that I thought it would, considering how our luck has been running."

He put his fists on his desk and leaned forward, allowing his loose hair to fall forward, concealing his face. "How are they getting past us? We're neither fools nor innocents. I'd swear on my soul that Knightin was a good man once, and he gave us nothing-nothing!- under the truth drug."

Shoving his hair back, he straightened and looked at Keilor with hard eyes. "I have never seen anyone resist Nerasia the way he did today. It was almost as if-" For a moment he became utterly still. Only his eyes moved, as if visually tracing a thought.

When he looked up, his eyes glittered with a solution. "Jasmine said Yesande experimented on her, didn't she? Took samples of her blood?"

Keilor nodded. He did not like to remember that time.

Jayems leaned forward. "The Ronin, our symbiotic friends, are human. We've had so little contact with them; who's to say they don't still breed charmers?"

Keilor closed his eyes, considering the unthinkable impact of that possibility. "That would be a very bad thing." His eyes snapped open. "But it would explain their sudden interest in opening communications with us. Yesande discovering a cache of charmers, craving their power, conducting experiments... If several of our women suddenly went missing, I would be looking for a way to infiltrate the enemy and scout around, too."

"And Jasmine is a charmer..."

"A natural lodestone for them, and a possible ally," Keilor finished. "No wonder they risked bringing a young woman with them. Considering what Jasmine will do for a friend, it was a thundering good strategy."

"And just how did they know about that little trait of hers?" Jayems asked knowingly, and Keilor inclined his head. "This is all starting to come together, cousin, and I think it's about time we had a little chat with our visiting dignitaries. And Mathin, of course."

A dangerous smile curved Keilor's mouth. "Of course."

Fifteen Ronin, four Haunt and Jasmine sat around Jayems' table, prepared to play a game of poker involving people's lives.

Jayems opened the game by dealing Jackson a question. "Have you had any strange disappearances among your people recently? Women, in particular?"

Jackson's head came up. "We were given to understand they were charmers." His impersonal gaze flickered over Jasmine. "Not that we're able to tell one way or another."

"And you, Mathin? What do you know about this?"

"I confirmed that at least one of the missing women was a charmer. I'd met her before. I'm guessing about the others, but given Yesande's interest in Jasmine, the blood tests that she took, and all that we know about her, it seems a good guess that she's after the pheromone."

Jayems glanced at Keilor. "Any chance she's already got it?" He quickly explained about Knightin and the Nerasia and Rihlia's mother.

"But I saw Knightin," Jasmine protested. "His eyes were perfectly lucid. He didn't have that stoned look."

"Stoned?" Keilor inquired.

She colored. "Drugged, half-stupid." When his eyes narrowed, she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry. I was far too busy trying not to drool over you myself to notice if you looked dazed."

He lifted a brow, but the scowl left his face just the same.

"That still doesn't explain his resistance to the truth serum," Jayems pointed out. "Did you notice anything strange about Rhapsody?"

A gray storm cloud drifted through Jasmine's heart, freezing her to the spot. "She bled a lot." Someone gasped, and Jasmine opened her eyes to stare at the shaken Rihlia. "I'm sorry. No, there was nothing."

Keilor squeezed her hand under the table, giving her support and comfort.

"Still, it doesn't rule out outside influence. We don't know what knowledge her experiments might have given her. Regardless, if she's behind the disappearances, something needs to be done," Jayems said, steepling his hands and touching them to his upper lip. He raised his head and his tented fingers rested against his chin. "Any ideas?"

"Yesande would not welcome me back, so I can't go openly, but I am still familiar with her lair," Mathin offered. "I could always seduce some information out of one of the women there."

"Rather sure of yourself, aren't you?" Leo suggested with a raised brow.

Mathin just smiled.

Jasmine cleared her throat. "Why bother going to her? She seems to go to great lengths to get her hands on charmers. Why not make it easy for her? Wave a charmer under her nose and she's sure to pounce."

"No," Keilor said in tone that brooked no argument. "You will not play bait." She opened her mouth to protest, but he squeezed her hand under the table in warning.

"She wouldn't have to," Leo offered, standing up to move beside Jasmine. Without a word, she reached out and took Jasmine's free hand.

"Leo, no!" Jackson shouted, standing up, but it was too late. Their symbionts flowed together; forming one interlocked whole, and pulsed. Jasmine jerked in surprise as a warm buzz flowed through her body, concentrated in her left arm, and then flowed out through her symbiont and into Leo's. The symbionts separated and streamed back to their respective hosts.

"Neat trick," Mathin growled, his nostrils flaring as his eyes dilated.

Jackson took one look at Mathin's hungry expression and ordered his sister with a killing look, "Purge it right now!"

"That would be foolish," she returned, standing firm, if wary. "The plan is a good one."

Jackson's hard eyes swept the assembled Haunt. "Did you not think of what might happen to our women if word of this gets out?" he demanded of her.

"I wonder if this stuff could be transferred to a man?" Jasmine murmured, eyeing her husband with speculation.

"Don't even think it," her husband growled.

"Enough! Jasmine, stop making trouble; Mathin, behave," Jayems ordered. "You don't have to worry about any of us making use of the information, Jackson. Yesande is the only one who would desire an army of lust crazed fools."

Mathin glowered at him and slid his gaze back to Leo.

Unnerved, her eyes flickered away and settled with determination on her brother. "Do you have a better way to end this, brother? Who will it be next time, your wife, our little sister?"

"Uh, Leo," Jasmine interrupted. "Just so you know, you're letting yourself in for a pack of trouble with this charmer thing. I do hope you can turn it off as easily as you turned it on, otherwise it might be best to consider other options."

Jackson tensed, and Leo bit her lip. "I'll be all right for a while. The symbiont won't work the pheromone into my genetic makeup for at least a month."

There was a tense moment of silence. "Three weeks," Jackson finally bit out. "I give you three weeks, and not an hour more, understood?" Still very angry, he dropped back into his seat, and Leo followed suit. "Now what?"

"Is it always like this?"

Jasmine glanced at Leo, noted her unease, and smiled with sympathy. "Actually, it's been a great deal better for me since Keilor and I, uh..." She waved a hand. "Since I got married and started bleeding off a little of...whatever it is that makes them do that." She indicated the nearly slavering Haunt males thronging the marketplace. Eyes lingered on Jasmine, but they positively glued to Leo, much to the consternation of her Ronin escort. Jasmine's Haunt bodyguard handled it with stoic resignation. They'd been through all this before.

All but Mathin, of course, who'd appointed himself one of Leo's protectors, in spite of Jackson's none too subtle hints to take himself off. Leo's persistent suitor wasn't in sight at the moment, but Jasmine caught glimpses of him from time to time, and she knew he was nearby, watching.

Leo knew it, too.

"What does he think he's doing?" she muttered in irritation as she caught a glimpse of Mathin through the crowd. "I hardly need another protector; Jackson is bad enough."

Jasmine looked at her askance. "What? Don't you recognize lust when you see it?" Leo's face grew fiery with rage, but Jasmine said anyway, "Mathin's not such a bad sort. Granted, he's a lousy cook, but he's worth his weight in platinum when you find yourself in a jam."

"You can say that, after he broke your arm?"

"Given the choice between that and remaining Yesande's permanent guest, I'll take Mathin's way, thank you very much. It's crude and it's rude, but you've got to admit it's effective." The scent of oranges reached out and seized Jasmine's nose, so she stopped and bought a couple of them. Handing one to Leo, she peeled it as they watched the basket weaver under the striped awning next door make a laundry basket.

Juice spurted as she dug her nails into the peel, releasing a delightful whiff of citrus. "So, do you have a sweetheart back home who'd object to all this male attention?"

Pretending great concentration on her task, Leo shook her head. "No, but that's not the point. I don't like being stared at, and it's infuriating to know that their interest is merely a chemical reaction."

Jasmine nodded. "Hard on the ego, isn't it? Not to mention danged annoying. But hey, look on the bright side, at least you can get rid of it." She popped a juicy orange segment into her mouth and then umphed!, as though something important had occurred to her. Rolling her eyes as she chomped quickly, she finally cleared her mouth to ask, "Speaking of getting rid of things," she held up her forearms, "What about these?"

Gaping as though Jasmine had suggested killing the pope, Leo asked, "Why would you wish to do such a thing?"

"Relax, Leo, I'm just curious. Now that I've gotten used to the little guy, I kind of like him, but let's just say that something came up, and I needed to get him off. Then what?"

"It's not done," Leo answered in consternation. "The symbionts extend our lives, bring health, and provide all manner of help. They define who we are as a people. Why should anyone wish to shed one?"

Jasmine raised an imperious brow, unknowingly picked up from her new Haunt family. "I define who I am, Leo, and no one else. I like being one of a kind, knowing there's no one else just like me."

"But don't you need a connection with someone? With others similar to yourself?" Leo pressed, sucking the juice out of the end of an orange wedge and licking an escaping drop, oblivious to the intensity of her audience with her attention focused on Jasmine. "Don't you have a need to belong?"

Jasmine noticed the male Haunt's fascinated stares, and smiled. A teenage boy who was watching Leo and not his feet ran into his mother when she stopped to admire some cloth, and earned himself a scolding.