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Vayl arched his eyebrow at me. “You know, they say the first sign of a community’s downfall is when they scrap their good manners.”

Disa, Sibley, Marcon, Rastus, and Niall had all crowded into the open space between the door and the fountain. “Vayl,” Disa said, relief flitting across her face as she saw him, “come with us.” When he stared at her impassively she added, “Please.”

“Why?” I demanded.

She gave me a get-off-my-lawn-peasant stare. “It is none of your concern.”

“I disagree.” Vayl slipped his hand under mine, raised it so she could see Cirilai glittering on my ring finger. “My avhar is always welcome to join me.”

Disa didn’t seem to appreciate the reminder. She threw her head back and I saw her neck begin to bulge. All right, if that’s how you want it, I thought. But I couldn’t erase the chill that iced my blood when I thought of those tentacles leaping out to slash my face away. I’d never be fast enough. But I reached into my jacket anyway.

Niall stepped forward. “We are under attack. The wagon house is afire. Rastus believes the werewolves we sensed earlier have returned in force. Surely this is not the time for squabbles amongst ourselves?”

Disa snapped her eyes to him and Sibley swayed in his direction. It was like she wanted to jump in front of him but couldn’t muster the courage. In the end there was no need. Disa acknowledged his argument’s logic and backed off.

“I don’t believe the Weres have the strength or the will to attack us, but someone has breached our defenses,” she said. You have no idea, I thought, glancing at the spot on the floor where blood had been pooling only hours before. She looked into Vayl’s eyes, her own a midnight blue. “We need you, Vayl.”

Only because I was watching him closely did the slight arching of his eyebrows tell me he’d realized something key. He looked down at me. And we had one of our silent conversations.

All right, I shall play on her affections. Her vulnerability may lead us out of this mess after all.

Are you sure? She seems awful strong to me.

I sense desperation. We may be able to get the upper hand.

Okay. But I have my limits.

So I have seen. He gave me such a look of tenderness I nearly jumped him right there. Oh boy, this was not going to be easy. I lowered my eyes, where they came to rest on Ziel, who had somehow managed to open the armoire and pull out one of my favorite dress shoes. A black suede pump with a kitten heel, it was now covered in teeth marks and dog slobber.

“Do you have a death wish?” I asked the malamute, who gazed up at me with the same look of innocence con men give their marks just before making off with their life’s savings.

“All right,” said Vayl, stepping forward to join them. “I will help if I can.”

I started to follow them out the door. But Disa stopped. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Niall said you were under attack,” I replied.

“You are not welcome.”

“I wasn’t asking permission.” I tried to keep my voice level, but it began to tilt anyway. Ziel stuck his nose in my hand. I glanced down. He moved forward until his head slid under my fingertips.

What, after you’ve eaten my best shoe?

He wagged his tail. So I scratched his head and immediately felt the tightening in my chest loosen. Good thing too, or we’d have been hearing more alarms.

When Disa realized I didn’t mean to back down she said, “Fine, you may join your man on the border. I sent him to patrol with Admes when I found him scampering through the halls like—”

And that’s when I went temporarily deaf. My temper’s kind of like dynamite with the fuse snipped to half. Considering that Disa had lit it the moment she’d breezed into my life, we were overdue for a really big bang. My first clue that the time had come? Heat like laser beams around my ears, lancing in toward my face until my entire head felt like I’d laid it under a broiler. “You what?”

Vayl might’ve said my name, but if he had the sound fell like a pebble into a canyon. I realized I’d raised my hands. Did I mean to strangle her? And was that really such a bad idea?

Disa saw something in my face that made her fold her arms across her chest, as if to shield herself. “Well, he wasn’t doing me any good inside.”

“He’s not yours!” I roared. “He’s ours! Where do you get off telling complete strangers to fight your battles for you?”

“I am the Deyrar!”

“You’re a fucking loon!”

I suddenly became aware of several things. Disa’s throat was starting to split and I had moved to within striking distance. Niall was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Sibley’s eyes were round as saucers. Marcon looked like he wanted to applaud, and Rastus had raised a rusty sword, which he shook at me in a manner that he thought was menacing.

“Put that down before you poke somebody’s eye out!” I snarled at him.

“Disa,” Vayl said. “You have once again acted against the terms of our contract.”

She turned to him, her hand flying to her throat as if to hide the changes trying to take place there. “How?” she asked, trying for an innocent expression and succeeding only in giving him the same old plastic stare.

“You have deliberately put my people in harm’s way.”

We are your people.”

I opened my mouth, one of my taunts just seconds from flying through the air to slap her frozen face, when Vayl made a small motion with his hand. Wait, that gesture said. I have her right where I want her.

“You have wronged me and mine,” Vayl said in a soft, deadly voice. “We will speak of this again. But perhaps now is not the time? Not when the Trust is burning?”

Disa’s hand dropped. The skin of her throat had mended. Her eyes faded to brown. “Of course. The Trust is what matters. Even you can see that. Come, we must see to the breach.”

Vayl gave me a moment’s glance. I nodded. We both knew what to do.

I gave them sixty seconds to go their way. Then I launched.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Most rescuers run right out the door. Which is why many of them die right along with the people they’re trying to save. I dove into the armoire where I’d stowed my weapons bag.

“I heard,” said Tarasios as I pocketed a couple of extra clips and slung my new crossbow over my shoulder.

“Huh.” I dumped Bergman’s faulty missiles and replaced them with my throwing knives, shuddering as the sheath bit into my skin. Gonna have to find some other weapons for this arm, I finally admitted to myself. These suckers are going to haunt me forever.

As I checked to make sure my syringe of holy water was full, Tarasios said, “I want to go with you.” He’d come out of the bathroom to stand at the foot of the bed. The battered old trunk looked better prepared to face an invasion than he did.

“Do you know how to shoot?”

“I took a class once.”

I checked the safety on my .38 before tucking it in the small of my back and then handed him the weapon I called No Frills. “This is a twelve-gauge shotgun,” I told him. “The barrel has been sawed off, which means it sounds like a bomb and kicks like a cannon. Just point it at what you want to hit and you’ll do fine.”

“So,” he mused as he turned the gun in his hands, “you’re not going to argue with me?”

“Why should I? Gives them another target, which means my chances of survival skyrocket.”