Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

W hat gripped Ruth was so beyond shock, there wasn't a word for it. How had she missed it?

Because Ruth was a submissive, but an alpha as well. And a vampire. She'd only submit for a male physically stronger than she was, and maybe on other levels as well. Emotionally, spiritually, and at the key moments when it mattered.

Not to a human. Never to a human. Humans had no right to command a vampire. Ever.

Look at him, Ruth. Look at him, and look at her.

She couldn't refuse Merc's demand. Reluctantly, her gaze slid to Garron. His expression on Kaela was fierce, protective. Proud. Worried. Now she understood his reluctance. Kaela had planned for this, because she'd recognized what Ruth was. Garron, his mind on her protection, had worried it exposed too much about her, a dangerous and wrong course.

He'd been right.

Ruth rose from the table, so abruptly her knee bumped the wooden edge, bruising her flesh. "Lady Kaela." She addressed the opposite wall. Where she wasn't looking at the kneeling woman. "Your meal and company have been…lovely."

The fake sound of her voice was acid in her mouth. "If you'll forgive me, I need to rest before the Trad's arrival tonight. And it appears you have other…business. With your leave, I'll retire."

Ruth hated herself as Kaela's head remained in that lowered position. A hard quiver ran through the woman, and before Ruth could look away again, she saw Kaela swallow, a convulsive movement of her slim neck. Garron moved toward her, but Kaela's hand came up, a sharp movement.

Garron stopped, with obvious reluctance and great effort, and his lady rose to her feet on her own and faced her guests.

Inside, Ruth suspected Kaela was shaking from head to toe. Outwardly, if Ruth hadn't seen what she'd just seen, Kaela looked like the vampire who had Lady Lyssa's full confidence and had brought order to the region. "Very well, Lady Ruth. Thank you for your company." Her eyes had that brassy shine, but her voice was even and courteous.

Ruth pressed her lips together. "I think…does Garron have to deactivate the security?"

"Yes."

Garron didn't move in that direction. Kaela sent him a look easy to decipher. What can we do? Keep a Truth Vessel and a born vampire imprisoned to hide our secret?

Ruth was no stranger to the risks of having her nature discovered. She'd learned how to contain and conquer the anxiety, the hated fear, but it didn't stop them from plaguing her, whenever she was put in situations where it could be revealed to other vampires. The unpleasant coldness in her gut and vigilance accompanied her every time.

Her mind might be rejecting this, messed up over all of it, but on one thing she was sure.

"Lady Kaela, you provided fine entertainment with your servants, and your chef's food and presentation are exceptional. If anyone asks me about your hospitality, I will report that the Council themselves couldn't do better."

Message received. Kaela's subtle nod said so, but the dull light in her gaze didn't bring Ruth any relief. "Thank you, Lady Ruth. If you or Merc need anything before the Trad's arrival, please advise Garron or the household staff."

Garron had deactivated the panel. As Ruth moved for the door, she purposefully didn't look at him. A servant. A human servant. All the trumped-up stories of human male servants taking advantage of female vampires…she'd scoffed at them as ridiculous chauvinism on the part of male vampires, possibly some jealousy.

Having that idea trying to take root inside her now was like swallowing poison. She had to get out of here. That was all. She had to think about this.

Merc was following her, but she didn't reach out to his mind. She had too much buzzing around her own.

As she moved into the corridor, one of the house staff was coming their way. She addressed Garron. "Lady Kaela has a return call from Mr. Shalimar, regarding the insurance on her waterfront businesses," she said.

"I'll take it." Kaela passed Ruth with a courteous nod, and strode down the corridor, heels clicking, head up, the silk of her dress rippling across her narrow back. Garron's gaze followed her. He didn't look at Ruth, either to keep himself from shooting a look on her that would be entirely inappropriate from a servant, or because he was communicating so intently with Kaela he had no room to spare for the pretense of doing otherwise.

Ruth didn't care about that. She just had to go.

I'll find you, Merc told her . Go where you need to go. I need to speak to Garron first.

As Ruth went up the stairs and took the direction opposite from Kaela's, Merc didn't want to let her go, but her mind was blasting her need for space. He would give her that for a few minutes, just as he suspected Garron would for Lady Kaela.

Though the man's tension suggested how difficult that decision was, the one thing they'd proven in this sealed chamber was how much self-discipline Kaela and her servant/Master had to exercise, to maintain a successful fa?ade for the true dynamic of their relationship.

Garron gave him a rigid nod. His gesture to Merc, to come back into the protected room, might as well have been the thrust of a middle finger. However, he didn't say anything until he secured the door, so they couldn't be heard by anyone else, unless Kaela chose to listen in on their mind link. Garron wouldn't be able to keep her out, but if Garron truly was her Master, perhaps they'd agreed she'd only do that when he permitted it.

When Garron turned toward him, Merc faced a human male who'd served as a warrior, who had a Dominant personality, and whose submissive had been hurt. A woman he loved enough to give her what most men like him wouldn't consider possible to ask of themselves.

"I want to punch you in the face. If you punch me back, I know I'll land somewhere on the eastern coast, but if you have a fair bone in your body, you owe me that one. You knew. You wouldn't leave it alone."

"She had a great desire to reveal it," Merc said. "She knew about Ruth. So did you. I merely brought the game to an end."

"It's not a game. Ruth has your protection. You could stand against ten vampires and come out the winner. I'm Kaela's emotional armor, keeping her balanced, giving her a way to submit. But I can't protect her physically worth shit and we both know it."

Garron stopped and steadied himself. "She accepts it. I have to live with it. It's a crappy way to live, but there are worse ones."

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you committed to be her servant," Merc observed.

The male looked like he really would hit Merc. Instead he went for a different blow. "Okay. Tomorrow, someone bigger and more powerful than you—I'm sure there's someone out there that qualifies, because there always is—tells you to walk away from Ruth for her physical wellbeing, leaving her needs unmet, and all alone with that shit in her head. What's your response?"

Merc's jaw tightened. "I'm from a more powerful race, and there's no prohibition against our bond, in her world or mine. I can protect her, unlike you. I'm not trying to be unkind. I'm merely pointing out what you did yourself."

Garron's expression went to stone. "You don't know Kaela's heart. What she wants and needs. I'm her Master, and there are two sides to that coin. Actually, probably limitless sides, but the point is, the more I learned about her heart, her soul, and her incredibly intelligent mind, I knew I would never deny her what she wants and needs. No true Master can. Not one who loves his submissive down to that level of the soul."

The words effectively turned a mirror on himself, on his still new and uncharted feelings for Ruth. When Merc said nothing, Garron made a grim, satisfied nod and moved toward the door.

When he reached it, before he deactivated the security, Garron paused. "Everyone dies. Living is something most of us spend our lives struggling with, how to do it the best way we can," he said. "Maybe we get it right, maybe we fuck it up, but there are things we know we did right. However Kaela and I end up in this fucked-up vampire world that can't see beyond its narrow view and prejudices, we're both sure of that."

Merc knew the words weren't directed only toward him. Garron's gaze flickered as if he'd received some kind of acknowledgement, but sadness and pain came with it. The urgency with which he started to plug in the security code said their conversation was at an end. His lady needed him.

Merc put his hand on the door before he could open it. Garron shot him a warning and impatient look, but Merc held up a hand.

"She's lonely. Ruth. She's fearless, but she longs for another like herself. I forced the matter into the open so she could make that connection. I didn't consider Kaela, the pacing, as I perhaps should have. I also didn't anticipate Ruth's reaction to a human servant being your lady's Master."

"Neither did Kaela." Garron's expression eased a fraction and he sighed. "In fairness, the whole dinner setup was for her to take the opportunity if the optimal opening came. But your opening was not optimal."

"Perhaps we should have coordinated before dinner, since we both knew our ladies' hearts."

"Yeah, maybe. But I don't know you. And my loyalty is to her."

"Understood." Merc met the man's gaze. "Is she going to be all right?"

"She's always all right. She's the strongest, smartest woman I know. But every time she's hurt, I feel the wound here." Garron tapped a fist against his chest. He paused, and while the set of his jaw showed his anger with Ruth, his question showed his understanding of where her head might be at. "And yours?"

"Ruth's reaction was honest, but she'll be upset with herself. She wouldn't willingly hurt someone she respects."

"Submissives are pretty universal in how they handle thinking they fucked up, or actually fucking up. They need their Masters to help them deal with it."

"Will your lady allow you to do that?"

"If she doesn't put my head through a wall. She does have a temper."

Merc's lips tightened against a smile. "Your relationship is more of a mine field than most."

"Only physically." Garron glanced pointedly at the palm Merc had kept braced on the door. "Something else?"

Putting out his chin, Merc tapped his jaw. "It's a fair demand. One punch."

Beneath the house was a spacious patio, decorated with fairy lights, comfortable outdoor furniture, and offering the never-tiresome view of the ocean. Ruth watched the lights of distant boats, and thought about going to the beach. There was an access, a boardwalk she could see from here.

Why hadn't Merc just told her his suspicions—okay, realizations—in the privacy of their room, instead of revealing them in such an awkward way?

It offended me, her having to pretend to be something she isn't. She's an honorable woman. Like you. It offends me that you have to pretend, that your people consider it a weakness and it makes you a target. But there's something else that offends me.

What's that?

Your behavior toward her.

Merc swooped down and caught her around the waist. Before Ruth could break free, they were aloft. He held her against him and groped under her skirt, ripping her panties away with one yank. Even wrestling while shooting through the air, he bent her over his arm, pulled her hips up and sheathed himself in a strong single thrust.

Total shock gripped her as she cried out. The large dose of lust that flooded her had nowhere to go, the emotions she was experiencing unable to accommodate it. A giant, ruthless fist clutched her aching heart and churning stomach.

Merc didn't care. His palm pressed against her stomach, her legs hooked back over his calves as he fucked her in the air from behind, using his wings to shove in harder, deeper. It hurt. That wasn't all, though. He slapped her clit, giving it a spanking that stung and had her writhing on his cock, struggling to get away. It wasn't fun, but he wasn't in a fun mood.

Neither was she. But it was a punishment, and his overpowering strength required her to do the only thing she could. Submit. She clung to his arm, an iron band around her waist. Every slap, every thrust, brought an even worse pain. Kaela's gaze, that brittle, bright-eyed look Ruth had put there.

When Merc stopped spanking her clit and thrusting, he'd done it long enough she would have begged for forgiveness from whoever he wanted. But she also noticed, when he landed on their isolated stretch of beach and withdrew from her, her sex was sore, but she was strung less tight.

The ache was still in her throat, though. Which was probably why he wasn't done. He put her on her knees and clamped a hand on her throat, making her stare up into his implacable face. An avenging angel, here to punish her for her sins.

"Apologize."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt her."

"Or Garron."

She snarled as he twisted a nipple. "Stop it."

He did it harder. "Yes, Garron. I'm sorry, I apologize to him, too."

When he released her and moved back, she charged him with a howl. He deflected her punches and stumbling kicks. She was unbalanced by what he'd done to her body. Then he caught her, took them both down to the wet sand and shoved her face-down over his knees.

"Don't you fucking dare…"

This spanking hurt like hell, with the additional dose of humiliation, being treated like a misbehaving child. However, he kept her legs open with a knee between her thighs, holding her ass up so he could spank her cunt some more, this time with a hand roughened by sand. She would have to rinse the grains out or walk around with them grating between her tender folds.

"That's what you'll do until I tell you to clean yourself," he told her. "Which will not be until you speak to Kaela."

"Fuck you."

Her defiance earned her more of the same. This time he rubbed the sand into her cunt himself, the sadistic prick bastard.

Shit. I didn't mean…

When he'd punished her to the point she was strangling back the sobs, furiously refusing to acknowledge the tears bathing her face, or what was causing them, he put her back on her feet and stepped away from her, arms crossed. Waiting to see if she had a next move.

She wasn't that stupid, though she did eye him with intense dislike and a desire for retaliation.

"It's different, Merc." She bared her fangs. Everything hurt, but what hurt most was her heart. "You know it is. Vampires are supposed to be dominant. That's the way it's supposed to work."

"Isn't she an overlord?"

"Her accomplishments aren't the problem."

"They don't seem to carry any weight with you. Perhaps a human, one she's bound to with the vampire-servant bond, is the only one she can trust enough to offer her submission."

Ruth shook her head, wanting to back away, but Merc's uncompromising look kept her where he'd put her. "She can't offer it to vampires, who might take advantage of her position. You haven't had any success finding such a male yourself among your people. As far as seeking someone from another race to fulfill her needs, the relationship between the Fae and vampires is still very touchy. With angels…" He spread out his arms. "There's only so much of this to go around."

"You are such an ass." She collapsed on the beach, wincing at the sand grating in sensitive places. In the aftermath of the punishment, which assuaged some of her inexplicable guilt, she couldn't argue with his logic. But it didn't change her feelings on it, which made it worse.

"I just…I wish she hadn't shown us that. I wish she didn't know about me."

"It's as she said. She didn't want you to feel alone in the vampire world, a unique oddity."

"A freak. You can say it."

"So now you are two freaks who know of one another." Merc drew closer, with a slight wariness that mollified her. She wasn't entirely unthreatening.

"You fight dirty, that's all." When he dropped to his heels, he put his hand to his jaw, testing it, and added, "It doesn't mean I'm afraid to be near you. Ever."

"Why are you doing that? I didn't land a face punch." Though it hadn't been for lack of trying.

"Garron has a very strong fist."

Her eyes widened, then she smiled. And chuckled. Feeling better. Sort of.

He'd…spanked her. And while it had been terrible, humiliating, a part of her had wanted it. Wishing it could make it all better. She also couldn't deny the flood of arousal it had caused. She didn't know how to feel about that.

I do. It makes me want to do it all over again.

Ruth pressed her fingertips over the bridge of her nose. "I need to apologize. Not because you said I had to." When he gave her a very Master look, she sighed. "I mean, yes, but…fuck it, you know what I mean."

His lips pressed against a near smile, but it didn't lessen the intensity. "I do."

She'd told Merc she wanted to do this alone. Agreeably, he said he'd stay in the bar area to make himself a Jack and Coke, and maybe peruse Kaela's library.

Fabulous. Glad he could have a cocktail and chill while she went to eat a huge helping of crow.

She hissed when he swatted her ass on the way to the bar. "I bet hair remover works on feathers," she threatened. She wanted to rub her stinging posterior—the male could deliver a smack, and she was still hurting from the beach pummeling—but refused to lose her dignity. She'd do it when she was out of his sight and hope he didn't tune in to snicker at her.

Merc caught her wrist before she could flounce away. Miserable, she closed her eyes and allowed him to touch his forehead to hers. It helped. "You'll feel better after you speak to Kaela," he told her. "And I'm in your head whenever you need me."

She dipped her head into his touch. Lifted it to meet his gaze. "Thanks."

She wondered if his acts of care surprised him as much as they did her. But they were definitely welcome.

When she reached Kaela's office, Garron was stepping over the threshold, about to pull the door closed behind him. She could tell he was set to say his lady wasn't taking any visitors. Then his jaw flexed. "You're welcome to go in."

Kaela's desire, not his. He left the door ajar, as much courtesy as he'd extend. When he headed down the hallway, Ruth could tell he didn't want to leave Kaela alone with her.

What would it be like, to be a Master who had to pretend to be a servant, to have to step back, get out of the way, when his submissive needed him?

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

He didn't turn toward her, but Garron paused, his chin turning toward his shoulder. A brief acknowledgment. Then he kept going.

Her mind in turmoil, she stepped inside the office. She was prepared to see Kaela as she'd been ever since they arrived. Tastefully dressed, every hair in place. Instead, she realized why Garron had been prepared to turn her away.

Kaela had a blanket around her bare shoulders, her legs bent and feet curved over the edge of the chair where she sat by one of the large windows. She gazed out at the picturesque Monterey surf, the scattering of stars. As far as Ruth could tell, she wore nothing under the blanket. Her red hair tumbled over her pale shoulders.

"Long ago, I sat at a small window in my small home, looking over fields stripped by a foraging Union army. They were so hungry. It was the war where both sides learned the terrible effort of keeping thousands on the march fed, clothed, the wounded and dead tended. An awful time. My husband was already dead by then. I didn't know that."

"I'm sorry."

"You're young, Ruth. I don't mean that in a condescending way." Kaela gestured to the chair across from her. "Will you sit? Or does my presence offend you?"

"No. Of course not." Ruth perched on the chair, uncomfortable. "I don't know exactly how to begin, except to say I know I owe you an apology.

"You understand submission to someone more powerful than you. But to a human, that you don't understand." Kaela gave a bitter half laugh. "Garron knew I was acting too precipitously. When I recognized it in you, I couldn't contain myself, the desire to connect to another vampire that…was like me. Only you're not like me. And I'm far old enough to know better. Your desires are a different shape from my own."

Kaela's gaze became flint. "Garron's life is in your hands, because of my foolishness. He submits, when there is no submission in him. As Merc noted, he has a great deal of ‘service Dom' to him, which is what makes this work, but there is enough pretense to it, for both of us, to make it…difficult. He does it for me. Because he loves me."

Kaela took a breath. "I like being an overlord, and I'm damn good at it. But in our world, it's incomprehensible that I could also desire submission, when I'm not holding those reins. They don't see how a submissive soul can wield power, hold her own, and determine her own path. Not and equally desire someone I can trust, who will let me surrender to his care, his attention and demands, and find peace in myself."

Kaela's words echoed inside Ruth's soul, matching the thoughts she'd struggled with ever since she'd felt the first stirrings of a desire to submit.

"My lady…" Ruth spoke slowly, "I'm not sure if that's true. What you said about us…being different. But I just…I'm just not sure."

Kaela's gaze flickered. "You want me to explain why I submit to a human."

"I do. If you can forgive my unkindness enough to tell me."

Kaela studied her another long moment. "You like to fight, Ruth. Perhaps as an alternative to fear or uncertainty, but you also enjoy it. It's evident in your manner. I've been fighting all my life. Before I was turned, I saw war and bloodshed. Death, in extremes no one can imagine unless they experience it. Even then, it defied comprehension, the horror of it. To be who I need to be now, I need a place to go where there is no fight required, nothing to prove, except my devotion to my Master."

Clouds passing in the sky outside the window shadowed her face. "We live in a world where power is used to take whatever is wanted, including a servant's submission. What my heart craved was a Master who took what I needed him to take. Gave me what I needed to be given. Who I could serve because my service answered something for both of us, not just him or me. I found that in a human."

Which was what Merc had pretty much suggested to Ruth, hadn't he?

I'm always right. You should just accept that.

Eavesdropper. Go away. But hearing him in her head helped that raw feeling in her stomach, she had to admit.

"You would tell me you submit to Merc because he's stronger," Kaela continued. "I don't question that you have that need. But it's more than that. He can overpower you, but he doesn't overpower those things you need him to respect. To recognize, trust and honor." Her luminous gaze rested on Ruth's. "And eventually, to cherish, as something vital to your relationship with one another."

Hadn't Ruth always told herself a Master would have to deserve her submission? And that was a list far longer than just his ability to physically overpower her.

Her mother had good-naturedly chided her for her vampire-human bias. No secret there, something they laughed about. But right now, it wasn't a laughing matter. Ruth realized how that bias had blinded her, creating a wall between her and a woman who knew exactly how Ruth felt.

Neither of them was alone in those feelings.

"Ah, to hell with all of it." Kaela shook her head and stared out at the night again. Ruth saw her eyes glisten as the overlord revealed her woman's heart. "When I took Garron as my servant, knowing he was my Master, it was a step I never thought I'd get the opportunity to have, so for a little while, it was everything. Then, over time, knowing that you can't have more, that that's the limit… It wears you down. It wears us both down."

The slight break in her voice made Ruth want to reach out in comfort, surely not a wise move, but then it was gone, and Kaela was in control once again. "I think Lady Lyssa knows," she said abruptly. "I think she's always known."

Kaela didn't dwell on the shocking declaration. Instead, her lips curved in that sad smile as her eyes came back to Ruth. "Does my explanation help you, or simply make you more confused?"

Some of both. But while a lifetime of viewing things the way Ruth viewed them didn't change in a single moment, it could start her down that road. And she knew what the first step was.

Ruth shifted. "Everything you just said, it may look different, the way I pursue it, but I think what's inside of me isn't that different from what's inside of you. I also think you know that."

She managed a tight smile for Lady Kaela. "I wish our world was a different place. Or parts of it. I wish I hadn't reacted the way I had, but I hadn't seen the possibility for this in a human and vampire relationship. Now I do."

As Kaela's gaze flashed with surprise and myriad emotions, Ruth held out a hand. "You gave me the gift of your trust, and I didn't respond well. I apologize to you and to your Master. Perhaps when the business that brought me here is done, we could plan to get together again. Here, or at my family's island. Get to know one another better. Find out if we could become friends, my lady."

A slight smile appeared on Kaela's face. Less sad. She freed a hand from the blanket and clasped Ruth's.

"Just Kaela," she reminded her.

The following sunset, after Ruth rose, Kaela invited her and Merc to breakfast with her and Garron in the upper dining room. They enjoyed coffee and relaxed conversation, a new ease to it. Ruth entertained Kaela with stories of the Circus and encouraged her and Garron to attend another show.

While she was mindful not to treat Garron as anything more than a servant before other staff, Ruth included him in the conversation when it worked to do so. The subtle hints of appreciation from him and Kaela gave her even more to think about. Merc watched it all in his usual impassive way, but the approval in his mind was undeniably uplifting.

She hadn't thought of him as her teacher. But he could be.

Just as you are for me. Marcellus tells me that's the way this is supposed to work.

She met his gaze with a spark of humor. Did he get that from the latest women's magazine poll on relationships?

He never misses an issue.

Kaela stopped mid-sentence, only a beat before Ruth felt it herself. Another vampire was approaching the house.

"He's a couple hours early," Garron noted grimly. He apparently said something to Kaela, mind-to-mind, because she shook her head.

"As I did last time, I'll meet him alone at the door," she said. For Ruth and Merc, she added, "Trads see our bonds with humans as weakness. And they have no regard for human life."

"Ironic, since most of them are made," Garron said, with an edge.

"I will accompany you to the door, Lady Kaela." Merc met Garron's gaze. His lady would have backup. And she wouldn't have to risk her servant.

Garron gave him a stiff nod of thanks.

"Thank you, my lord." Kaela glanced at Ruth. "If you'll go to my office with Garron, we'll meet you there. It's better to assess his mood in my driveway, and not appear as if we're overwhelming him with numbers."

Ruth wasn't sure she liked being left behind any more than Garron, but the logic was sound. As Kaela and Merc left, Merc gave her a brief look.

If I need backup, I'll call.

Keep being a smartass. I'll dye those feathers neon orange.

A brief touch of humor from his mind, plus a reassurance, then they were gone.

Ruth turned to Garron. "If either of us sense a problem, we'll go help them."

"Yeah. We will."

In accord on it, they proceeded to the office. However, they didn't have long to wait before Merc and Kaela returned.

The vampire overlord came in first, followed by the Trad, then Merc. Asva was compact, and wound like a steel cable. His hair was shaved so she could see scalp through the light-colored fuzz. He wore cargo pants and a camouflage shirt with hiking boots. She was sure they concealed a variety of weapons. Blades, maybe even wooden stakes.

His most potent weapon was his stench, however. Ruth resisted the desire to cover her nose. Trads rarely bathed, which suited their off-the-grid lifestyle but not the olfactory senses of those who liked soap, deodorant and toothpaste. All vampires might be striking, even without access to toiletries, but they were no more immune to body odor than anyone else. Kaela would have to fumigate her chairs if he chose one.

He didn't. Instead, he nodded toward the door that led to Kaela's office balcony. "I would prefer being outside for our conversation. If it's secure."

"It's over a cliff. Only the birds should hear us. This is Lady Ruth, Merc's companion."

Asva's gaze had already moved to Ruth, and clung to her. His eyes were nearly colorless. "I am quite aware of her presence."

Merc shifted, blocking his view. "Become less aware."

The Trad held up his hands. "I meant no offense," he said. "If she's yours, may your union and her womb bear fruit. Even if it's not a pureblood, it would strengthen our race."

Ruth didn't appreciate the Trad discounting her presence as nothing more than Merc's shadow. She stepped to his side, correcting that, and pinned the Trad with her gaze. "My womb is none of your fucking business. And Lady Kaela said companion. Make no assumptions from that."

"Of course." His eyes held hers. Hungry.

With that atavistic attention, any impact his Dominant nature could have on her held no power. Ruth held his gaze with no problem. Moving them away from dangerous waters, Kaela gestured toward the balcony door.

The wind was strong this morning. Merc tucked his wings in closer to his body, creating a wind break. He gestured Ruth into the chair in front of him.

Her hackles were up, but the chair put her in the conversation circle with Kaela and the Trad. Garron stood silently behind his Mistress's chair. It held a different message than Merc's decision to stand behind Ruth, though the men were in mirror positions.

"Asva, should I send for refreshments?"

"No." Asva's contemptuous gaze passed over Garron. "I don't need a human to wait upon me. I'll say what I wish to say and go. If I don't wish to answer questions, I won't."

"You requested the Truth Vessel," Kaela noted.

"To verify what I tell you isn't a lie."

"Very well. Say your peace."

"Not long ago, I shared a campfire with a fellow Trad. Grollner. He's a clever male. He sometimes speaks in riddles to discern the sharpness of others around him, to test their mettle. To play games."

Once settled into his discourse, Asva's cadence was like a college professor's, an odd contrast to the rest of him. He glanced around and shifted, as if gauging what would happen if he had to vault off the balcony and fling himself toward the rocks below. He wasn't at ease here, but Ruth couldn't tell if it was the company, or concern about his own kind finding out he'd met with the California overlord.

Some of both, I think. Merc shifted closer behind her. The strands of hair blowing in front of her face settled. She'd been giving thought to braiding it, but she didn't want the creepy vampire's eyes on her while she lifted her arms to do the personal task, so the block was appreciated.

"There were several others there that night," Asva continued. "I joined them while they were discussing a matter of common interest. They stopped talking about it, but Grollner wanted to throw me hints. He said we often fight like wild animals, a clean fight, for territory or food. While he said that's as it should be, if we want more room to live that life, we'll have to also become chess players. Working when needed with enemies, and choosing more complicated strategies."

"You believe he's allied himself with someone in my world?" Kaela asked.

"Trads do not ally ourselves with anyone outside of Trads. If we choose a partnership with vampires who like their comforts," his gaze traveled the room, exuding that scorn, "it is because of a temporary benefit to us, and because the partner has the power to serve our purposes."

"Are other races out of the question?" Kaela pressed for more.

"No one with power is out of the question, but a vampire alliance is the most likely scenario. You at least share our blood."

Garron was watching the Trad, and the Trad noticed. "He offends me with his stare. If he does not wish to lose his eyes, he should exhibit the proper respect I assume you have trained into him."

Tension thrummed across the balcony, but after a long moment, Garron gave his lady a slight bow and lowered his gaze. Making it clear he'd done it at her behest, not out of respect for the Trad.

"You came here because something worried you, vampire," Merc said. "Something that will affect the Trad world, because you don't give a fuck about Lady Kaela's. Do I need to reduce your brain matter to soup and sort through it to get the information she needs?"

Merc's willingness to deliver on the threat was obvious. The vampire's cheeks paled, and that furtive, jump-off-the-balcony look increased.

Can you do that?

Technically it would be more Jell-O than soup, but I didn't know if he'd get the cultural reference.

Ruth was not going to laugh. For one thing, no matter the outward calm, everyone on the balcony, including herself, was ready for a fight if the Trad made a wrong move.

"Grollner said the player who sees past the limits of the chess board has the advantage." Asva dropped the scornful posturing. "The board is a false perimeter. Beyond it are the pieces already in play. A two-opponent game might be three, two against one, with one unaware."

"So there is an alliance." Kaela leaned forward, her expression intent. "What else did he say?"

"He asked if I'd ever wondered why there was a king and queen on the board, but no prince or princess. I told him the king and queen are too busy with their battles. They have no time to procreate. He laughed, and said, ‘They keep them off the board, hidden, so they are protected. But that puts them out of reach of the army. Ironically, the closer they are to danger, the further they are from harm."

A modified Lord of the Rings movie quote. Grollner was apparently hiding a DVD player in his off-the-grid treehouse.

Merc's hand tightened on her shoulder. "How do you know he's not just fucking with you?" he asked.

"After he shared it, he sat back and said, ‘Let the dying fortune teller figure that one out. It will be too late when she does. And that will be the end of her.'"

Asva smiled.

Ruth's chair scraped over the concrete, tumbling to its side with the force of her ejection from it. She lifted Asva by the shirt front and slammed him against the wall of the house. She'd wanted to dangle him over the rail, but the force of her anger might have broken it loose, plunging them both into the sea. After they bounced off all the sharp rocks along the way.

Kaela pulled her off the Trad as Merc held Asva back, keeping him from retaliating. Garron stood between the two women and the Trad, additional reinforcement for Merc.

"She is not dying," Ruth snapped over Kaela's shoulder. "She'll be alive long after you're rotting worm food."

"Such fire," the Trad said. "You'd be a good breeder. The human I fed upon that night, one of Grollner's food slaves, failed in that task, as so many do. But she fed me well before she expired. Her last meal."

He looked ready to snicker over the joke, but Merc's grip on his throat captured and held it. The vampire tried to fight the hold, which only constricted further. Asva flailed, beating Merc's arm.

"Pinching off a tick's head is more difficult than me pinching off yours," Merc informed the Trad impassively.

Youthful bloodlust rarely gripped Ruth. It mortified her that it had crept up on her like that, but seeing someone smirk over Clara's death had broken her strained nerves. "Sorry, my lady," Ruth muttered, as Merc occupied the Trad.

"It's fine," Kaela said low, releasing her. "Trads are rarely good houseguests."

Asva gagged. His feet were no longer touching the balcony floor.

Merc, I'm under control. I promise. He didn't hurt me.

He wants to. It's all over him.

Yes, but bigger things are at stake.

Merc dropped him. As Asva sagged against the wall, Merc gave him a pointed look of disgust. "You'll mind your manners here. If you don't have any, pretend you do."

Asva straightened, eying Merc with dislike, but also a healthy amount of fear and respect. When Merc stepped back, taking up position next to Garron, his relief was evident. "If you are here to help your own kind, Asva, what purpose does goading us serve?" Kaela demanded.

"None, my lady." He sent Merc a sidelong glance. "It is…habit. I would apologize, but it's all I can do to be around your kind and your…servant, without either vomiting or attempting to kill you."

"The feeling is mutual," Ruth said. "All this chess bullshit aside, what do you think is going on? What's he planning? You probably have a guess."

"I don't know. But it gave me a terrible feeling. The dreams she has," Asva rasped. "The fortune teller. I've had them, too. We have…shared them, at times. That's how I felt her presence."

"So you're a seer. Did you lead them to her?"

When Ruth posed the question, and Asva nodded, her bloodlust screamed anew at her to rip out his throat. This time she felt a push from Merc, a small burst of energy that helped her control it.

"But that was before the conversation with Grollner," Asva admitted. "What I have felt and seen since then, it does not bode well for the Trads. I know my feelings are not specific, but they are rarely wrong."

"When will his plan happen?"

"He would not reveal that to me." Asva paused. "But if he was teasing us with it, my guess is it is already in process. He wouldn't risk tipping his hand too soon. Grollner longs for the destruction of your way of life. The Council is in his crosshairs. Honestly, I would not mourn their loss. But the more he spoke, the more I felt as if it were the Trads facing annihilation.

"And…no matter how much I revile how you choose to live, you are vampires. There is a hope, no matter how slim, that your world will come to the wild places and find the roots we have found. You would be the better for it, I am sure."

While Ruth was sure Asva wished to put her in a burlap sack and carry her off in a windowless van, she didn't doubt his honesty. Merc's slight nod confirmed it.

"Maybe you should consider that a two-way street," Kaela said. "The species that refuses to change often ensures its own extinction."

"So does the species that changes too much. Too many compromises, turning your back on who you are and what you were created to be." Asva rubbed his throat and eyed the door. "I have nothing further, and I do not wish to linger."

Kaela glanced at Merc and Ruth. Just a cryptic chess match and an anxious feeling. Yet that didn't reassure Ruth, because his worry was real, and he wouldn't have met with them if he didn't feel it was worth the great risk to himself.

His words were a puzzle planted in her head. Like Clara had said, each vision brought them missing pieces, and Ruth felt like he'd just handed them several key ones. That foreboding, coupled with Clara's specific warning to her—or guidance—had Ruth in a hold as ruthless as Merc's.

You're an important key, Ruth… Your experience, what you see and feel, what you know, will help you see…

Asva's words, while cryptic, weren't meaningless. If Ruth could just figure out what the fucking meaning was .

"I'll escort you to the door," Kaela told Asva.

Merc accompanied the overlord as before. After they left the balcony, Garron invited Ruth back inside the office. "So, from your reaction, Clara isn't doing well."

"No."

"I'm sorry to hear it. When we attended the Circus, she read my lady's palm. She was truthful, kind and hopeful."

"That's a good way to describe her." Ruth rubbed her forehead, pressed her fingertips against it. Chess…

When Kaela returned, she reached for her phone, putting it on speaker. "I told Yvette I'd contact her after our meeting."

Merc stood beside Ruth's chair, his hand resting on her tense shoulder. What is it?

I don't know. Just…going over what he said. She shook her head. Creepy, goddamn Trads.

The troupe was outside the portal for another three-day performance, and it was fortunately past nightfall in that time zone. When Yvette answered, she was in Clara and Marcellus's quarters. Maddock and Charlie were also there.

After they provided a report on Asva's visit, Yvette sighed and echoed Ruth's own thoughts. "I could wish for something a little less cryptic."

"Does it suggest anything to you, Clara?" Ruth asked.

The hacking cough that preceded the answer tightened Ruth's stomach muscles. She could tell the weakness of Clara's voice visibly startled Kaela and Garron. "The whole chess conversation makes me feel worried. An anxiety… Something…"

"Something right there in front of us," Ruth said.

Clara paused. "Yes, exactly. And I can't explain why, but my instincts tell me we should contact Lady Lyssa. Relay every bit of the conversation to her."

Lady Lyssa… No. It wouldn't make sense. Trads didn't have the strength or planning skills to pull that kind of ballsy move. But Asva thought they'd struck an alliance.

An alliance with someone who maybe would pull a move that ballsy.

Ruth bolted to her feet. "‘No prince and princess on the chess board,'" she repeated. "Kane and Farida are visiting my father's island. With Lord Mason."

Mason was probably the third strongest vampire in their ranks, but depending on how many—and what—would come against him, he could be overwhelmed. Especially if his daughter and godson could be used as leverage against him.

Mal had plenty of magical defenses on the island, but they weren't designed for an offensive, pitched battle. Ruth had a very bad feeling that was what was about to happen.

If it hadn't already.

Damn it, she was out of range. No mind link. Kaela was talking urgently to Yvette as Ruth pulled out her cell phone and dialed. She bit back a curse as the answering machine picked up on her father's office landline.

Ruth turned to Kaela. As she did, she could hear Clara's tearing cough continuing over the line. "It may not mean anything," she told the overlord.

"Trust your instincts. What are they telling you, Ruth?"

She looked at Merc. "We need to get to the island. Now."