"Inhumanity is an apt description of my brother's character. You sound strangely as if you were protecting him, Charmer."
I met the laughing eyes of Saer, and wondered how I could ever have confused him with his brother. "It sounds that way, doesn't it? But then, as you've so clearly proven, appearances are misleading."
He made a slight bow, a faintly exotic move that I knew would be dashing if performed by Adrian, but was merely yet another form of mockery as done by his twin.
"You have something of mine, Saer," I said softly, getting to my feet. Melissande was still by the window, obviously too wrapped up in her grief to pay us much attention. "I'd like it back, please."
He smiled, an awful parody of Adrian's smile that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. "I would be happy to oblige, but the return of such a unique object would naturally raise many questions…" His voice dropped to a whisper that wrapped itself around me. I gritted my teeth against the sensation. "Questions which I assumed you would prefer not be discussed. Am I wrong? Would you care to explain not only how you came by the object, but how it fell into my hands?"
"Why are you doing this?" I asked just as softly, glancing nervously toward Melissande. "Aren't we both on the same side? I will be happy to use the ring to release your son from his unholy bondage."
"You do not have the skill needed to harness the power of the ring. I, however, will be able to use it to the fullest of its abilities."
"But what about Adrian?"
Saer reached out to touch a strand of hair that lay on my cheek. I recoiled, not wanting him to touch me. Melissande turned at my movement, mopping up the last of her tears and smiling a sad, brave smile at me as she moved to her brother's side. "I am sorry to be so weak, but I fear so for Damian." She put her hand over Saer's heart, her eyes liquid. "We will save him, my brother. We will find him, and save him, and destroy the one responsible for his torture."
"Asmodeus," I said, my stomach balling as Saer wrapped an arm around his sister.
"The Betrayer," she hissed, turning her face into his shoulder. His eyes met mine, and I read his intentions in them.
He would save his son, but not his brother.
No matter how nicely Melissande phrased her words to me, explaining that everyone was concerned about how weak and near death I had been after the banish charm, the plain fact was that I was a prisoner.
"I have rested," I said tersely as I paced past the small table where my jailer had deposited a tray of food. "I have recovered. I am fine, I swear to you—absolutely, perfectly fine. Why can't I leave the room?"
"The others feel you might risk harming yourself if you were to leave now," Melissande said with suspect complacency.
I toyed for a moment with the idea of binding her to the room and making my escape, but alienating her would do neither Adrian nor me any good. Obviously, I was going to have to find another way out. I sat down at the table and poked at the food. "So, where exactly are we? This doesn't look like your cousin Christian's castle."
She smiled and brushed back a long, flowing curtain. "No, we're still in Cologne, in a house that belongs to one of Christian's friends. It is a very old house, a historic structure, actually."
"Really?" I looked around the room. It was your normal European bedroom—if your idea of normal included molded gilt-touched ceilings, linen paneling, and an antique rug probably worth more than I made in an entire year. "I assume this historic house includes a handy dungeon for storing unwanted guests?"
"You're speaking of the Betrayer." She looked out the window, her face unreadable. "There is no dungeon, but I assure you he is safely confined."
"Where?" I asked, desperate to know. She frowned. I hurried on before she could ask why I was so interested. "Adrian can be very persuasive when he wants to be. Once I'm given the thumbs up health-wise, I'd like to know where he is… so I can avoid him, naturally."
"Naturally," she answered, her voice as smooth as silk. "I will tell you so you will be easier in your mind, but truly, there is no need for you to worry. Saer has most effectively bound the Betrayer, and Allie—she is Christian's Beloved—has warded all the exits in the room so he cannot possibly escape."
"Room?" I asked, feigning horror as I looked around. "A bedroom? Near me?"
"No, no, a storage room in the basement," she answered quickly. "As long as you do not venture there, you will be perfectly safe."
I hated to deliberately mislead Melissande, I really did, but I had no choice. "And Saer? Is he staying here as well?"
Her eyebrows rose as she gave me a speculative look. "He's very handsome, is he not?"
"Uh…" For some insane reason, I felt myself blushing. "Yes, he is. I'd like to talk to him when he has a free moment."
"I'm sure he would enjoy speaking with you, but unfortunately, he's returning to London. He interrogated the Betrayer while you were sleeping, and he believes he has the information he needs to find Damian."
Damn! He'd gone to save his son. I suppose that was only to be expected—if it were my child whose welfare was at stake, I would have left the second I had the ring. "Ah. Well, I'm sure he won't have any trouble rescuing Damian now that he has the ring. Will he come back here, or does he live somewhere else?"
"Saer has homes in Berlin and Prague," she answered, her frown back. "But what ring are you speaking of?"
"The ring—Asmodeus's ring. The one Adrian was looking for in Christian's castle—"
"Saer has no such ring," she interrupted before I could explain that I had found it. "He would have told me if he did. I'm not entirely sure there is such a ring. You of all people know how easily superstition and speculation over the centuries can make something that doesn't exist seem real."
"Saer doesn't have the ring," I repeated slowly. Why wouldn't he tell his sister he had it? She was obviously terribly distraught when it came to Damian—why wouldn't Saer put her out of her misery by telling her he had a surefire way to save his son? Perhaps it wasn't as surefire as I assumed it was. "Well, I hope he frees your nephew. I know you're worried."
"Yes." She bit her lip and hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Nell, I want you to know that I appreciate you had a reason for insisting you were not a Charmer, but now more than ever I need your help. Assuming Saer locates Damian, we will need you to charm the curse binding him to Asmodeus. I would not insult you by offering you more money to help us, but I am not too proud to beg you for your help if that's what it will take."
"You don't have to beg, but, Melissande…" It was my turn to do a little lip-gnawing. "I didn't lie to you when I told you I wasn't a Charmer. I'm not."
She gave me a sad, disappointed look.
"Well, obviously, now I am," I allowed, trying to think of a way to explain the situation without exposing my true relationship with Adrian. "I told you that I had an accident ten years ago. That accident resulted in the death of a very good friend, and caused me to have a stroke that took me months to recover from."
Her eyes widened.
"My actions, my attempt to charm a curse, caused my friend's death. My own destruction aside, you can see why I was so hesitant to offer to charm the curse that binds your nephew—I could very well kill him in the attempt."
"Of course I understand," she said sympathetically, her hand giving mine a little squeeze. "But that's all in the past! You warded earlier this morning, and although you swooned afterward, you do not seem to have seriously harmed yourself."
"What… uh… what happened to Sebastian?" I asked, suddenly worried that maybe I had killed him.
She grimaced. "I'm afraid your banishment charm wasn't as successful as you would have liked."
Oh, God, I did kill him! Now I had two deaths on my soul!
"Rather than Adrian being banished from the building, it was Sebastian who was removed."
"He's alive? Not hurt?" I asked, almost afraid to hope.
"Oh, no, not hurt at all. He is here, as a matter of fact. I'm sure you're distressed
that your ward went awry, but I have every hope that you will succeed with Damian's curse."
Pride that I had successfully cast a ward, which had been growing as she spoke, suddenly took a nosedive to despair. "But… but, Melissande! There's a big difference between casting a banishment ward and trying to unmake a demon lord's curse!"
"I am confident you will succeed," she said, an obstinate look on her face. "You have to. There is no one else."
There might not be anyone else to charm the curse, but sure as shooting there was a big ole magic ring that could do the job.
"I can't," I said as firmly as I could without being obnoxious. "The curse I tried to lift when I caused my friend's death and my stroke was cast by Asmodeus. It is very clear to me that when it comes to besting a demon lord, I'm out of my league—dramatically and fatally out of my league. And while I would be willing to risk my own soul, I will not risk another's."
Her gray eyes were stormy as I spread my hands. "Please, Melissande, you must understand. I have already taken one life—I will not be responsible for taking another."
Her gaze dropped. "Then he is lost to us."
I struggled with the desire to swear I would do what she asked, knowing full well that the only chance I had of saving Damian involved using Asmodeus's ring. "I swear I will do everything within my power to help him. I swear it."
She left after murmuring a hope that it would be enough. I stayed put just long enough to have a quick wash and bundle up the sandwiches and fruit she'd brought me, pausing to look out the window at the rain-washed streets of Cologne. It was about an hour to sunset, but I felt driven by a strange need to get Adrian out of there. I didn't want to risk disabling myself by trying to contact him via our mental phone line, which meant I couldn't reassure myself that he was not harmed and in no danger.
The door wasn't locked, a fact that surprised me. As I strolled down the corridor and turned to a grand sweeping staircase, I saw why. A big musclebound man sat in a wing-backed chair reading a German magazine.
"Hi," I said with my friendliest smile, holding behind my back the small metal statue of Pan that I'd snatched up from a hall table. "Can you answer a question for me?"
Mr. Muscles towered over me when he stood up. He had a hard, suspicious look about him, as if he were a professional bodyguard. "You are woman American?" he asked in a heavy German accent. "You should not be out from room. What is question?"
"What's the difference between a bird and a tractor?"
He blinked at me. I smiled as I swung the statue down on his head. "They can both fly… except for the tractor."
Chapter Ten
The big guy crumpled up without a sound. I dropped the statue and crouched next to him, feeling for a pulse. It was steady and fairly strong.
"Sorry I had to do that, but it was necessary." After peering over the banister to the floor below to make sure it was empty, I hurried down the stairs, pausing frequently whenever the house made a noise. Breathing a sigh of relief that no one was around, I ran silently down a hall that seemed to stretch the length of the building, listening at doors for conversation or sounds of habitation. Melissande's voice was audible at one of the doors, along with the low rumble of a male voice. I picked up my pace upon hearing them, stopping only when I reached the back of the house. Another stairway faced me; this one had obviously been meant for servants in the days when people could afford such luxuries.
"Down means basement," I whispered as I descended the bare wooden stairs as quietly and quickly as possible, stopping to bend over the railing midway down to see if anyone was standing around below. No one was on guard.
The basement was laid out in old compartment style—one room leading to another, which led to another, and so on the length of the big house. I had no trouble finding the door to the room Adrian was kept in, not just because it was the only door available, but because the wood of the door glowed gold with a confusion of numerous interlocking three-dimensional symbols that made it look as if someone had read too many books on how to create a Celtic knot.
"Let's see if I can unward this thing without blowing out any more circuits in my head," I said softly, looking at the door, allowing my vision to slip into a soft focus that let me visualize the pattern of the wards without subjecting them to intense scrutiny. It didn't take long before the mishmash of curves, lines, and curlicues doubling back on themselves separated into distinct symbols. I breathed a silent prayer as I reached out to the brightest symbol, tracing it in reverse. The ward flared for a moment when I reached the end of it, then dissolved in a shower of silver. Relief trembled in my voice as I touched the next ward. "One down, five to go."
Only the last one gave me any grief, and that was because it was a powerfully drawn ward that did not take kindly to me unmaking it. It was a circle-shaped ward, and as I undrew one line, the rest of the pattern shifted, knotting itself up again. My hand was shaking with strain by the time I finally wrestled the ward into nothingness, but I thought little of that as I threw open the door to Adrian's prison.
I didn't get two steps into the unlit room before I was thrown backward onto the dirt floor by an enraged, furious vampire. A flash of fang was all I saw before he was at my neck, his teeth sinking deeply, pain hot and sharp mingling with my fear that he had been somehow pushed too far.
"Adrian! It's me!" My voice was a thin whimper, but it was enough. Adrian pulled his mouth from my neck, his lips crimson with my blood.
"Nell?" His eyes were a cold, flat onyx. "You're alive."
"As are you. I wasn't sure you were, for a while," I said on a sob of happiness. I clutched him tight, reveling in the feel of him in my arms again. "I thought at first I'd killed you. You're all right? You're not hurt? Sebastian and Saer didn't harm you?"
"They tried," he growled, his lips lowering to mine. I tipped my head back to welcome him, but he stopped before he touched me. "Why didn't you answer me when I called you? Why did you ignore me?"
"I didn't know you were trying to reach me," I wailed, relief at finding him whole and safe making me weepy. "I burned out my intercom when I spoke that banish ward. I tried to find you, but…"
I rubbed my forehead. Adrian's lips followed the path my fingers took. "Do not distress yourself, Hasi. It will come back to you."
"I'm sorry you were worried." I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. "I guess I was so focused on finding you, I didn't think you'd be trying to contact me."
His face darkened as he pulled back, hauling me to my feet and dusting off my backside. "Saer told me you had turned from me, that you were cleaving to him."
"Oh! I would never cleave to him!" I threw myself in Adrian's arms, kissing him for all I was worth, leaving my lips on his as I added, "You're the only cleave-worthy man in my life."
He didn't answer that statement with words, but by the time he had made it clear that he too was in business for some cleaving, we were both breathless.
"Saer is a great big poop, and you shouldn't listen to anything he says," I said, panting just a little.
His lips twisted into a wry smile as he grabbed up his satchel. "I realize that now. What he said could not be."
"Right."
I checked the room, creeping to the outer door to listen for sounds from above. It was silent.
"Obviously, he was trying to demoralize me."
"Men who are poops demoralize people all the time," I agreed as Adrian pulled me aside, forcing me behind him as we made our way to the next room.
"If I had been thinking correctly, I would have known that what he was saying could not be true. He told me you had given him Asmodeus's ring, and I know you would never do anything so foolish."
I froze as Adrian paused in the doorway, his nostrils flared as if seeking the scent of danger. Satisfied there was none, he gestured me forward, silently making his way through the dimly lit room, noticing only when he reached the door to the next room that I wasn't with him.
"Nell? Come. We must escape now, bef
ore they discover you are missing."
I gnawed my lip for a few seconds. Adrian made an exasperated noise, walking back through the room to stand in front of me. "You can't be afraid of the dark—you came through this room on your own."
"No, it's not that. Uh… about the ring…"
He brushed my jaw with his thumb. "What is wrong, Hasi? I cannot read your thoughts, but I can sense your emotions. Why are you feeling fear?"
I didn't have to tell him. I could just continue to play dumb and not tell him. He'd never have to know.
I sighed. I couldn't lie to him, not to Adrian. "I did give Saer Asmodeus's ring."
Adrian stared at me in disbelief.
"I didn't betray you," I said softly, putting my hand on his chest, my heart crumpling at the pain that flashed in his eyes. "I thought he was you. No one—including you, I'd like to point out—bothered to mention that you have an identical twin running around. So when I saw Sebastian and Christian in the train station, I gave you the ring to use against them. Only it wasn't you."
His jaw tightened. His hands fisted. His body language screamed so much anger, I took a step back, even though I didn't really think he would harm me. "You had the ring and didn't tell me?"
"I didn't know it was the ring until…" The explanation dried up on my lips. I wanted to sink into the ground, sick with what I'd done even though my motives had been good. "I was going to tell you. I was going to—"
"Allow him to use the ring to destroy us, perhaps?" came a voice from the doorway.
Adrian turned around slowly to face the blond man who lounged in the doorway with deceptive nonchalance. Adrian moved to block me with his body. I stepped to the side to look around him.
"Sebastian." Adrian's voice was soft, but filled with so much menace it made the hairs on my arms stand on end. "So you still live."
Sebastian made a courtly bow. "As you see, Betrayer. Alas that the same will not be said of you come the dawn."
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