Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

H e flew her up into the sky, and Ruth slept in the clouds, in the arms of an incubus angel. Going forward, if he wanted to taunt her, or she pissed him off, he might drop her again. But now he'd always catch her before she hit the ground.

She was pretty sure of it. Mostly.

Resting in the clouds was like being in a drifting boat on calm waters. Sometime during that sleep, he roused her to have her again, doing that wonderful thing with his wings where every thrust took them higher into the sky, penetrated her deeper, made her shriek her pleasure to the whole universe. Then they floated back into their cloud bank and she slept once more.

She woke in her quarters in the security team's tent. He'd put her there without being noticed, because there were no speculative looks or amused smirks. She would have worried it was all a dream, but her body told her in a hundred ways it most definitely hadn't been.

She grabbed a shower, a blood meal, then headed for the security briefing for the upcoming performance. She was pleased to be early, but then she saw Marcellus standing between two tents. His head was down, arms crossed and wings folded tight against his body.

He could be praying. But that wasn't the vibe she was getting, so she changed course and drew closer.

"Is she okay?"

He lifted his head. He'd been somewhere deep inside it, but she didn't feel like her question was an intrusion. She wouldn't presume to know what a being like him was thinking, but everyone needed a break from their worries, especially when they were standing-room-only in their minds.

"She had another vision a few hours ago. It was…difficult for her."

A pang hit her mid-chest. "Is Charlie with her?"

"Yes."

She suppressed the immediate urge to go to Clara. In this moment, that wasn't her job. "Any new information come out of it you can share?"

"It still revolves around the Trad vampires. New variables have entered the vision."

He wouldn't tell her anything above her pay grade. A moment later, she wished this had been one of those times. "She saw Lady Lyssa…and signs of a death connected to her. It was not clear what kind of death."

At Ruth's curious look, he elaborated. "There can be a physical death or a metaphorical one."

Like the death of a queen's reign. Which, in Lyssa's case, could result in a lot of physical deaths. Most vampires knew her strength, her stabilizing power as Council head, kept restless vampire factions and other potential opponents contained. The potential enemies of the current status quo were limitless.

Marcellus confirmed her sobering thoughts. "It could herald a far wider conflict in the vampire world. Which would impact the human one."

"How about the angels?"

Marcellus shook his head. "We stand apart from conflicts the Fates and Goddess deem should be left to the decisions of others."

"So if the vampire world tears itself apart, you'll do nothing?" She tried, unsuccessfully, to pose it as a neutral question.

"You have many influential players. It is not our fight."

In theory, she understood. She could tell it didn't necessarily sit well with him, either, though.

"It is often recommended that angels stay detached from the worlds and peoples we protect so we don't get overly involved," he added.

"A personal relationship with one of those people screws mightily with that," she observed.

"Yes."

"But it's not prohibited."

"No. Not usually. The Goddess respects free will and the evolution and growth it can support. No matter how painful those processes can be."

"Freedom's never easy," Ruth said. "My father has had to fight a lot of battles on the political front to keep his sanctuary operating the way he wants to run it. Some days he says physical combat would be less exhausting."

Marcellus nodded. Seeing he might need a distraction, she chose a different direction. "Marcellus, what do you eat?"

He blinked those solidly dark eyes. "Manna is what sustains angel kind."

"Have you ever offered any to Merc?"

"Yes." Marcellus's lips quirked. "He did not like the taste."

"Has he ever tried eating it right before he feeds the way his incubus side prefers?"

Marcellus raised a brow. "Not to my knowledge." He shifted his gaze to her right. "Am I correct?"

"Yes."

She turned to Merc. It had to be intentional, his ability to full-on sneak up on her, since other times she could close her eyes and feel how close he was.

His wings were pulled in close around his shoulders, enhancing the black. He wore his security garb, black jeans and short sleeved shirt with the embroidered security logo. Black shoes with thick soles. Marcellus was in his usual Legion wear.

When last she'd seen Merc, in his faded jeans and bare feet, she'd realized why each man looked more comfortable in his preferred garb. Marcellus's square cut jaw and formal stance smacked of military command. Merc was the rogue anti-hero, with the stubbled jaw and devil-screw-it look.

Two different styles of eye candy.

She held that thought to herself, but would share it with a more appreciative audience later. Like Clara and Charlie. Clara would welcome the chance to smile.

Marcellus's gaze shifted between them. "So Clara said you two were together last night."

Merc's eyes narrowed, but Ruth nodded. "We were. I'm in top condition today. If needed, I'll scale a few trees to prove it to Dollar."

"So he did not feed from you?"

Merc stepped forward. It put him between her and Marcellus, though he wasn't blocking her view. "I did. But not fully. As I said, that will be a rare occurrence. I'll seek other sources as needed to protect her strength."

Ruth's temper flared, but not so hot she didn't notice how the men's gazes had locked, or the tension in Merc's shoulders. It wasn't her job to defuse his reaction to the babysitter treatment, but Marcellus was already out of sorts over Clara, and Merc didn't know that. Testosterone could be a mine field.

But she had her own territorial reactions. So, despite those warning thoughts, she put a hand on Merc's arm. "The person you're talking about happens to be right here. You won't be feeding on someone else to spare me."

She'd successfully captured his attention—and his ire. "Your tone with me is unacceptable."

"Your feeding on someone else is unacceptable."

"Incubi are not monogamous."

It was a cruel shot, forcing her back a step. He registered the hit, his own expression tightening in a way she couldn't interpret. But before she could retort, her brother spoke.

"They can be."

They turned toward Adan, joining the impromptu meeting. His arrival, so soon after his last visit, raised her hackles further. Merc wasn't the only one who didn't appreciate babysitting. Did Adan really feel she needed this much checking up on?

Okay, yes, the first time he'd visited, she'd been attacked by a Trad. Second time, a pair of vampires had attacked her, and she'd been drained for a full feeding by Merc, so…

She scowled. Fine. But his job was incredibly dangerous, and she didn't pop up at his workplace every day. Never mind she had no way of knowing where that would be, and it was often frustratingly out of range of their twin bond or the mind link.

A lone voice of reason reminded her he was also supposed to be keeping tabs on Clara's visions and their impact on the wider world, aka Guardian jurisdiction, and Clara had just had a pretty significant one.

"Sex demons may not always be sexually exclusive, but they can be emotionally monogamous," Adan continued. "Raina is both. She's a succubus witch who runs a bordello populated by sex demons. And she's bonded with a Dark Guardian both of you know." He indicated Marcellus and Merc. "Mikhael."

Marcellus's brow lifted. "Mikhael is fully monogamous. Emotionally and physically."

"Yeah. She's the same," Adan said. "By choice I might add, but if she had any thoughts otherwise, Mikhael would just incinerate the poor bastard with a thought and keep reading his morning paper."

"I really want to visit her place sometime," Ruth mused. At Merc's lifted brow, she added, "It's been on my bucket list since Adan first told me about it." But she had a more pressing question. "How does she feel about it?"

Surprising her, it was Marcellus who answered the question. "She's devoted to him. It's a True bond."

At her puzzled look, he explained, "Angels only mate once in their eternal lifetime. If their mate is not in the life cycle intended for the relationship, the angel will keep his distance, leave them to live their lives, until he or she reaches the point of readiness."

"Wait." She was picking up a lot of information on the back end as she digested all the implications from the front. "Mikhael, a Dark Guardian, is an angel?"

"Yes." Marcellus said. "Partly. He has enough angel blood to carry that characteristic."

When the angel looked at Merc, a sudden silence descended. As the implication hit Ruth, it freaked her out, more than a little. It appeared to unsettle her brother, too.

Merc's expression darkened. "My angel blood might have a greater impact than I have accepted or considered before now, but that doesn't mean it fully defines who I am. Most incubi are not monogamous physically. For obvious reasons. Sexual energy is still my primary food source."

Ruth's temper flared hot, telling logic to take a hike. "I wasn't asking to set up house. I don't give a damn what your angel blood does or doesn't tell you about soulmates. But while we're together, I'm not going to share you. Period. You want that, then find someone else's head and heart and body to fuck with."

She should match her tone to her audience, but she was no longer in a giving mood. She looked toward Marcellus as she pointed at Merc. "I want him to take from me what I want to give. I'm aware of the cost, so that's my choice. Mine. If it impacts my work for the security team, I'll be the first to identify it before it causes a problem. Serving the Circus and protecting Clara is important to me."

Her gaze moved to her brother. "I love you, but if the primary reason you keep coming back this often is to check on me, I want you to stop. It might be an illusion, me being able to protect someone for once, rather than having everyone bend over backwards to protect me, but let me have that illusion as long as I can. All right?"

Her volume had risen enough to draw attention. She checked herself, but pivoted and stalked away. She'd made it almost to the end of the line of tents and the open field beyond, the lake where the mermaids swam, when Merc landed near it.

He gripped her arm and she tried to throw him off. When he refused to let her go, she swung, snarling. He took the punch when he could have blocked it, his head snapping back, but then he turned them, her back against his body. She did her best to bite him and kick his shins as he lifted her off her feet, but his wings folded around her, enclosing her in that soft darkness.

He didn't use his incubus power to arouse and distract her, which would have turned her anger into full blown rage. Instead, he offered a wave of genuine emotion, surprising her enough to check her anger.

Regret. Agitation. Confusion.

That, and his next words, saved him from the cutting edge of her tongue. "When I was first assigned to him, Marcellus would throw out comments and questions that tipped over everything I believed. It annoyed me then. It annoys me now, though he does it less often. Your points were valid, and my answer was…unkind. But your tone with me was unacceptable. Fix it, if you wish me to consider your wishes."

Did he realize when he acted all in charge, he was more like Marcellus than he realized? Acting like…an angel?

Probably not the best time to point it out. She couldn't manage a totally civil response, but she did force out a raw and honest one. "I'm a vampire. Sexual play with servants, in the company of other vampires, it's part of our damn social structure. But what we share with someone…who matters, that has boundaries. It would hurt me to know you'd fed from another female because you prefer that to feeding from me."

His grip on her eased, though he still held her close, his mouth next to her temple. "If I choose to do so, it'll be because I'm protecting you. Not because I prefer another female. I can promise you that. While we're together, in whatever we are in right now, that will be the truth. I want to feed off you every time, Ruth. When hunger stirs, you're who I'm thinking of. Whether the hunger is merely a need for a sip, or to consume all of you."

"You can take that from any woman."

"Yes." His gaze met hers. "But I can't make them give me what you give me. What you offer. Freely. Willingly. And more importantly, I don't wish to take from them what I want to take from you."

That mollified—quite a bit—but she wasn't going to back away from the point. "I want you to have everything you wish from me. No limits. Maybe that's stupid and crazy, but it's the way I feel."

"And why I'll be the one to determine the limits. To protect you," he repeated. "That's the job of a Master, isn't it? The submissive feels a natural desire to give him everything, when she opens herself up to that need. So he needs to protect her, even as he cherishes the gift."

He backed off. As she turned his way, he folded his wings over his back, the tips overlapping near his ankles. His expression was still, waiting on her response.

"Have you been reading a Dom how-to manual?" she asked. "Because that sounded pretty impressive." And had hit the mark of what she admitted was true about herself and her desire to submit, dead on. Not that she was going to tell him that.

His eyes showed humor, but the set of his mouth, his silence, said she wasn't entirely off the hook.

"I was a bit mouthy," she allowed. "I'm sorry. It's just…I get a little crazy when I imagine you touching anyone else to feed. I can't change that. Not while I feel the way I feel."

His expression eased. "It's how I feel about you as well. I'm all right with you taking blood from the cook tent, but if you wanted to draw it straight from someone…I would want it to be me. It also helps you, doesn't it? Makes you stronger."

"Yeah," she allowed. "But I don't want to use you that way."

"Why? If you had a servant, that would be one of my primary jobs, wouldn't it? If I'm also your Master, caring for you, for your needs…that falls under the same answer." At her wry look, he pressed his lips together. "No, I haven't been reading a book, but I pay attention on Play Night. I hear the discussions. I've learned without doing."

Much as she had, up until meeting him. They were finding their way. She sighed and let the anger go. Then blanched. "Oh fuck, I practically dictated terms to Marcellus. I need to apologize."

"But not to the Light Guardian?"

"That's my brother. That's different." Though she probably did owe him a follow-up conversation. "I'm worried about Marcellus. He was worked up over Clara."

After she explained, Merc offered her a hand. "It's time for the security meeting. Let's go support him the way he needs. That's likely all the apology necessary. Clara is his mate."

Merc's hand was warm and firm on hers. They walked back, and he didn't let her go. As they passed through the populated areas, she noted the startled looks, but also some tentative smiles. Maybe they were starting to see Merc as something different, more a part of the Circus.

If she'd had a hand in that, as Yvette and Marcellus had implied earlier, then she'd made as useful a contribution as helping with Clara's protection, in her opinion. No matter how she and Merc ended up.

When they arrived at the tent where Dollar and the other team members were assembling, Adan was sitting on a stool, his heel hooked on a rung, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze touched their clasped hands.

You two are so cute. The incubus angel who can suck the life out of someone through their gonads, and the rip-your-throat-out-if-you-annoy-me vampire.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Eat shit.

Their version of an apology. He was trying to trust her judgment against his protective brother, alpha male, Dom concerns. She was telling him she understood and appreciated the love.

After a brief squeeze, Merc dropped her hand and moved to his normal spot, a few feet to Marcellus' left. As he passed Adan, they exchanged a neutral look that held some of that same testosterone exercise he and Marcellus had had, but it stayed on low boil.

Ruth joined the security personnel, standing beside Helo and Burt and behind Zee. "Someone had a wild night," Helo murmured. "Any interesting scars to show?"

"A lady never tells."

The chuckles settled as Yvette joined them. The Circus owner was an unexpected addition to the meeting, but as Dollar moved out of the center position to give her the floor, she explained her presence.

"Lady Lyssa has contacted me. The California overlord, Lady Kaela, informed her that a Trad in her area has requested a meeting. He wants to discuss plans he's heard hinted about among his kind. Things he feels won't benefit Trads or vampires as a whole."

"Setup," Dollar noted. "Gotta be."

"It's possible. But Lady Kaela won a measure of his respect during an encounter a few years ago. Though she would not call him a friend, she believes his concern is genuine. He mentioned a recent failed attempt to secure ‘the seer who sees too much.'"

Marcellus's mouth tightened. "Bring him here so we may question him."

Merc shifted closer to the Legion captain's shoulder, a show of agreement.

Yvette shook her head. "Trads embrace the savage predator that lies at the core of all vampire kind. What we've controlled with civilized trappings and our ritual protocols, they rarely restrain. If you force him here or to Council headquarters, he'll refuse to offer anything more specific."

"Or take his own life, like the one the other night," Adan added.

Yvette's gaze shifted to Marcellus. "He says he'll only meet with Lady Kaela, but he's asked for the presence of a Truth Vessel, so his word isn't questioned. Another reason Kaela is treating his request as credible."

"What's a Truth Vessel?" Dollar asked.

Marcellus glanced at Merc, then spoke. "Angels. We know a lie, even obscure ones told to oneself."

Maddock stepped into the tent. "Like I swear I'm going to lose those ten unsightly pounds, right after I polish off a stuffed crust pizza."

Yvette rolled her eyes. "I keep forgetting to reconfigure the portal to burn your DNA to ash upon re-entry."

"You never forget anything," he said. "You love me."

"You continue to be moderately useful. And Charlie loves you, for incomprehensible reasons."

It was the first time Ruth had seen the sorcerer close up. Today he wore jeans and T-shirt, a tall and angular male with black hair, raggedly cut, and cat-intense hazel eyes. With the exception of his trimmed beard and moustache, he looked like a cross between a particularly handsome homeless man and dangerous hitchhiker. But his vibration of power was the same that Ruth detected in different doses from Adan, Yvette, Marcellus and yes, Merc.

Maddock carried a carved staff embedded with crystals. Since it was worn smooth beneath his palm, she expected he'd had it for a while.

"On the incomprehensible reasons part, we're in rare but total agreement." Despite the teasing, the sorcerer's gaze sobered. "Don't let me interrupt. I'm just here because I was informed my moderate usefulness was needed."

At Yvette's curious look, Marcellus filled in the blank. "Clara feels some additional protections or cloaking might enhance the safeguards for those she cares about."

The look he and Maddock exchanged didn't take much interpretation. The protections were already pretty damn good. The strain on Clara's nerves was making her jumpy.

"Definitely a discussion we can have," Maddock said neutrally. He glanced at Adan. "You can be my wingman on that meet, if you want."

"Bullshit. You can be mine."

" Top Gun ? Really?"

"You opened the door, man. I just stepped through it."

Maddock snorted and returned his attention to Lady Yvette. "So the Trads know there are angels here?"

She shrugged. "It's not a hard thing for preternatural beings to figure out. Even if Trads can't breach the grounds without our knowledge, they'll have heard about the Circus. What humans believe are miraculous special effects and feats of makeup, they would know are real. Though it's interesting they didn't assume our ‘winged members' were Fae. It confirms they've had magic-trained human spies in our audiences we didn't detect."

Dollar's expression hardened. "Maybe we can figure out better ways for our team to detect that."

Marcellus glanced at Merc. "In the meantime, you will visit Lady Kaela and hear the Trad's story."

If the angel had sprouted bunny ears, he couldn't have startled the tent occupants more. Including Merc.

"I have spoken to Jonah. It is a chance to prove what I already know. You are being offered the invitation to serve as an angel. Will you accept?"

Most of the people in the tent didn't understand how significant an offer Marcellus was making, but Ruth did. Merc's gaze moved to her. Her hands curled as she realized he was looking at her because it was a significant issue. Something that would impact both of them, if they were moving forward together.

Merc's gaze returned to Marcellus's. His answer was cautious, but positive. "How I perform this task…it will tell me more about whether serving the Goddess is my destiny. The blood of the incubus is strong and has its say, too."

"The formal vampire world has protocols," Yvette said. "It would be wise for a vampire to accompany you."

"I'll go with him," Ruth said.

She'd jumped to the front of that line before Adan could do more than open his mouth. But it didn't make him close it. "That's not a great idea."

Merc faced her brother. "No harm will come to her. You have my word."

"No offense, but there are things required of her in our society that you can't influence. Not without damaging her standing in it, and ironically making her even more vulnerable when you're not around."

Merc inclined his head. "Which is why she'll do as Marcellus suggested. She'll third mark me."

She managed to hold her tongue as Dollar resumed the security briefing. She was proud of herself for not telling everyone making foregone conclusions about her life and her decisions—including one overbearing angel incubus—to go fuck themselves.

When they were done, Maddock cleared his throat, glancing between her and Merc. "Marcellus, you, Adan and I can meet with Clara now, if that suits her. Yvette, should we cast a protection spell on the immediate area so no permanent property damage is done in our absence?"

"You are not helping." Yvette's attention shifted to Ruth. "A human servant must choose to become one. But taking a servant is also a vampire's choice. One never to be treated lightly. Especially when the relationship will be far different than one with a human servant. I trust the discussion about it will be civil. Or at least won't damage anything I paid good money for."

"I'll do my best, my lady," Ruth said courteously. "But breaking through a skull shellacked with testosterone often requires Newton's Third Rule."

Yvette's golden eyes gleamed. "Your honesty is appreciated."

"I think you should take Merc to the sanctuary," Adan said unexpectedly. "Let him meet Etsi and Sgidoda . Have your discussion there."

In the place you feel most balanced, in control of who and what you want to be. Home.

He understood her too well. Ruth met his gaze. "Is there time?"

"Yes," Yvette said. "Lady Kaela is finishing up a quarterly meeting with the vampires in her territory. The Trad will not come back to Lady Kaela's home until it is over, no earlier than the day after tomorrow."

"There's a portal route to California," Adan said. "I'll make sure it's configured for you so you can take it from the sanctuary, when it's time to go."

Impressive use of Newton reference, he noted. You were paying attention when we were home schooled.

Don't get too impressed. It's something Etsi said about Da. And Kohana agreed.

"Won't you need…" She'd intended to ask Yvette if her and Merc's absence would leave the Circus and Clara short on security needs, but the answer to that question, at least as it concerned her, was crushingly obvious. There were plenty of assets to protect Clara.

"You talking to that Trad sounds important," Dollar said. "So it's best to get yourself in the right headspace for it. You're not going to lose your spot. You've proven yourself valuable to the team. Watch your ass, so it can get back here in one piece."

It moved her, more than she could say. "Before you leave, I'm sure Clara would appreciate seeing you," Marcellus added.

"Okay. I'll do that, and then we'll go to my home. Agreed?" She directed that to Merc. He nodded.

"See how that worked?" she said sweetly. "I suggested a plan of action and sought your input."

She stalked up to him, close enough to poke a finger against his chest, her eyes snapping with the temper she'd kept banked. "It's like Lady Yvette said. When it comes to a third mark, no one is making that decision for me. Period. That's different from…the other things between us. A Trad isn't the only one who has a line they won't be pulled across."

She was aware of her brother's regard, and those in the tent, but what mattered was the male who stared down at her. "I will break myself in pieces first, and all you'll get is the meat of what's left. If that matters to you, then meet me at the portal in about thirty minutes. If not, take Adan to see Kaela and do what needs to be done. I'll stay here."

Turning on the ball of her foot, she exited the tent.

If Yvette and Marcellus hadn't had more things to go over with him, Ruth suspected that Merc might have had a response beyond a curt nod. Adan had remained in the tent, so later she might ask him how Merc reacted.

For now, she forcibly shifted her mood into a better place to visit Clara. Charlie had finished one of her bolstering energy infusions, because the tingling remains of it filled the yurt and vibrated out from the fortune teller.

The brief respite from visions had helped Clara add weight, and strengthened her mentally. For Play Night, she'd looked almost healthy.

The toll this vision had taken shocked Ruth. No wonder Marcellus had seemed so out of sorts. It had stripped all progress away and taken even more, as if punishing Clara for the hope her recovering health had instilled. Ruth wasn't sure how she was sitting up on her own. Her face was so drawn it looked skeletal, and Ruth could have fitted three fingers into the pockets of her collarbones.

"Marcellus says enough. That even a gift from the gods has limits for what it can ask." Clara gave Ruth a tired smile and gestured, so Ruth sat on the bed with her. "I need to see this thing with the Trad through, though, before I make any decisions."

Ruth wondered if she'd live long enough to do so.

"Maddock thinks he might be able to reinforce my life energy and give me more strength. Yvette even proposed turning me, sending a request for it into the Council." Clara gave Ruth a lopsided smile, baring her human canines. "Since my visions are proving to be as much of an asset to your people as to the universe. I don't know what to do."

She sighed, rubbing her face. "I don't know how Maddock's spells, or vampirism or whatever will impact the visions. They seem to be getting a little vindictive. I don't know what it will do if I mess with them. I'll decide after we figure this Trad thing out," she repeated. "It feels like it's a really important one. I don't want to block something that will help save the world. And I don't want to stop being me."

Clara's hand tightened on Ruth's like a vise. Her focus sharpened, a laser point ripping through the universe. Ruth was already surging forward to hold her as the fortune teller bucked in the grip of the first convulsion. "Charlie…"

Charlie held onto Clara from the other side. "Just let it pass through," she instructed, her eyes full of pain.

As before, after only seconds, Clara went corpse still. No need to protect her tongue. Ruth thought she might prefer to see her have a full seizure.

The twitching started. Tiny moans. Ruth gritted her teeth, and at one point, she and Charlie clasped hands over top of Clara's, a knot to hold her to this earth.

"Oh fuck, Charlie…"

Clara's face was becoming even more drawn, her body shaking. Charlie's grip tightened. "Hold fast," she said. "We can only wait it out."

When the telltale veins finally began to throb in her forehead, blood trickled from the tender shell of Clara's ear, and from her nose. It didn't rouse Ruth's blood hunger in the slightest. Her fear and anguish for Clara far eclipsed it.

She held Clara in her arms as Charlie found a towel to blot the blood.

"I've barely begun to know and enjoy you," Ruth whispered. "Become a vampire. You'll be eternally beautiful and can eat anything you want."

Clara's eyes rose, and her quivering lips curved. She managed a chuckle, though the head resting on Ruth's shoulder was too weak to lift.

"You're an important key, Ruth," she murmured. "No matter what you and Merc decide about the marking, you have to go see Kaela. Your experience, what you see and feel, what you know, will help you see something the others miss. You might not be in time to stop…whatever it is, but it will give them more of a chance to counter it. Whatever the plan is."

Hair rose on the back of Ruth's neck as Clara's fixed gaze locked on her. As she'd spoken, her hand had latched onto the hem of Ruth's shirt with a strength her body didn't seem to possess. The force of the message planted a foreboding impossible to shake.

"It would be so much easier if these visions would just spit it out," Ruth muttered to Charlie. "The Fates may be the worst communicators ever ."

Charlie folded the towel and set it aside. Putting her hands on Clara's, she started humming, in a rhythm that reminded Ruth of Kohana and other staff members, doing a ritual drumming on moonlit nights. Rise and fall. Rise and fall. Connecting to the earth's heartbeat.

The harsh intensity in Clara's gaze melted away, leaving the normal light in her hazel eyes. She slowly came back to them, one hand lifting to touch Charlie's face, then Ruth's. "I'm all right," she rasped, when she obviously wasn't. But that wasn't what she meant. She held onto them as she looked at Ruth. "I'm glad I got to meet you, too."

Ruth took a firmer hold on the girl. "Screw that fatalistic bullshit. Figure out a way to live until we can take care of this, whatever it is. Once that's done, do what Marcellus wants. Let Maddock block the visions. You've said you're going to die if you don't stop. Maybe that's the Fates' way of saying ‘Okay, you've done enough.'"

Clara's startled look suggested she'd hit a point the girl hadn't considered before. When her expression turned inward, pensive, Ruth shot Charlie a subtle look of triumph, and hope, however slim it might be.

"You can go back to being a normal fortune teller," Ruth continued. "One people think has offered amazing insights into their lives. The stuff that would be obvious if they'd get the hell out of their own way."

The lines around Clara's eyes crinkled. "Like that you're falling in love with Merc, but you're terrified of the binding of a third mark, and what that will mean for the two of you."

At Ruth's surprised look, Clara lifted a shoulder. "It's not just cosmic visions I stay on top of, you know."

Ruth pinched her gently. "Even if I agree to it, it might not take. I don't think a vampire has ever tried to mark an angel. Or an incubus."

"If it doesn't work, but it gives you an advantage, them believing you've marked him, pretend it did around the vampires. Yvette says she can't detect Catriona's marks, and she thinks it's because she's Fae. So it has a precedent."

Whether intentional or not, Clara had given Ruth an out, or rather, more time to adjust to the marking idea. Or discard it entirely.

Ruth placed a gentle kiss on Clara's mouth. Totally platonic, so she wouldn't ruffle Marcellus's feathers. "Do not die. I will be really mad if you do."