"But why place the geis on me, then, if he never intended to use it?”
“To protect your chance to become Pythia. A brief affair could have ruined everything, for you and for him. The geis seemed the simplest way to ensure that didn't happen. And to afford you added protection at Antonio's. You did not know about this?”
"I didn't even know about the geis until yesterday!" I sat up abruptly, my mind racing at the implications. I could break the geis by sleeping with Tomas. It was so simple that it was ludicrous-if he was telling the truth. But Tomas didn't need to resort to lies to get a woman in his bed, and his explanation made sense. I'd thought it strange all along that Mircea would think he needed magical help to manipulate someone as young and clueless as me, especially when I was already infatuated with him. There were far more subtle ways of exercising control, and he was master of them all.
Of course, even if Tomas was right, there was no way to know whether Mircea's get-out-of-jail-free card would work on a double spell. And even if it did, there was a catch. A big one. If I broke the geis, I'd fulfdl the ritual's requirements and be stuck with the Pythia's position permanently. That would put paid to any hope of passing the power on to someone else, or of working something out with the Circle. Heirs could be unseated, as Myra had found out, but the Pythia held the position for life. If I completed the ritual, the mages would have no choice but to kill me if they wanted their candidate on the throne. And the same was true of Pritkin, if he really did favor Myra.
Unfortunately, things didn't look any better if I kept the geis. It was almost certain that the Senate would find me sooner or later. They had too many resources, including Marlowe's intelligence network, for me to have any illusions about that. And even if Tomas was right and Mircea couldn't use the spell to control me-a big "if," in my opinion-he also couldn't break it. The dúthracht had lived up to its reputation and gone haywire, and there was no telling what would happen if the bond completed itself. It was supposed to be under the control of one of the participants, but what happened if, as seemed to be the case, neither of us was in the driver's seat? I didn't know what a geis in control of itself might do, and I didn't want to find out.
One thing was certain: if we met again, Mircea and I would certainly complete the bond. It was embarrassing to have to admit, but the only reason we hadn't done it already-and in front of about a thousand spectators-was his self-control, not mine. And that would complete the ritual, which would bring me back to square one.
"Damn it!" Both options were unacceptable, but there wasn't a third. There was no way to get rid of the geis and avoid completing the ritual. Or, if there was, I had no way of finding it stuck in a cell in Faerie.
Everywhere I looked, I hit a brick wall. I hated not having options, of having someone or something deciding my life for me. It had been that way as far back as I could remember. Either Tony or the Senate or the goddamned Fey were making me a victim, taking away my right to choose. I'd never had the power to fight back, to forge my own life or just to keep myself and the people I cared about safe. I couldn't even deal with one rogue initiate! And, I realized, if things continued as they were, I never would.
"What is it?" Tomas' hand was delicately stroking the small of my back, trying to soothe, to comfort. It was comforting, I admit, but not soothing. Neither the ritual nor the geis cared if he was hurt, or if I was ambiguous about the idea of having sex in a dank, chilly dungeon with Billy probably listening in. The compulsion to turn around and take Tomas up on the offer he'd been making ever since I met him was so strong, I had to bunch my fists in the coarse blanket beneath me to keep them still.
I forced my mind back to the problem. I'd been telling myself that I could pass the power on to someone else, but who exactly would that be? There didn't appear to be any other candidates for the job who could be trusted not to fall under the control of the Circle or of Pritkin's faction, neither of which I trusted. There was a war on, and even the thought of the power passing into the hands of someone like Myra made me cold.
Tomas wrapped his arms around me, drawing me against the sultry cocoon of his body. My hand moved of its own accord to caress the warm, golden skin at the side of his knee, just where the slope of that long, strong thigh began. It would be so easy to give in, to feed the hunger I'd felt for so long. And did it really make that much difference? The Circle was already trying to kill me. Could I believe them if they offered a deal? Wouldn't it be better from their point of view to do away with any competition for their initiates, rather than leave someone like me around? If I was going to be hunted anyway, I vastly preferred to be in the strongest position possible. And that was doubly true when dealing with Myra.
"Are you sure you've thought this through?" I asked Tomas seriously. "There could be repercussions for helping me complete the ritual. The mages-”
Tomas tasted the inside of my wrist with the tip of his tongue. "I'm sure.”
"But what about-”
He smiled wryly. "Cassie, you know what hunts me. Do you truly believe I am concerned about the Circle?”
He had a point. And, as much as I didn't want to admit it, I still had feelings for him-or, to be more precise, for the person I'd thought he was. I really doubted that someone old enough to remember the fall of the Incan Empire bore much resemblance to the sweet street kid I'd known. I didn't know the real Tomas, who he was when the Senate wasn't pulling his strings. But they weren't here now. For once, both of us were free of them, even if it was only because we were prisoners elsewhere. And despite that, he still seemed to want me.
"The choice is yours, Cassie. You know how I feel.”
I looked at him searchingly. "Do I? Louis-César commanded you to come to me. All those months, you were doing a job.”
Tomas' hands stilled. "And am I still doing that job, Cassie? Is this all an elaborate hoax to persuade you to accept a position you do not want?”
"No." Vamps might not have the same reaction to pain as humans, but no one would allow himself to be carved up like that, not for any reason.
He pulled me against him, his eyes burning. "Do you think I am trying to win back the Consul's good graces by completing my original mission? Is that it?”
I didn't answer immediately. Tomas had betrayed me before, and although I'd convinced myself that he'd done the wrong thing for the right reasons, what if he hadn't? I knew for a fact that he was a good actor-most of the old vamps were. If they weren't born that way, they acquired the skill through centuries of practice. But it didn't make sense for him to be playing me. Even if the Senate was willing to wipe the slate clean and take him back, that wasn't what Tomas wanted. His main goal was to be free of his master's control in order to kill Alejandro. No matter how much they wanted me back, the Senate wasn't going to make war on another sovereign vampire body-especially not when they already had a war on their hands. They couldn't give Tomas what he truly wanted, and I didn't believe he'd sell me out for less.
"No," I finally admitted. "I don't think that.”
"But you don't trust me.”
It wasn't a question, so I didn't answer it. What could I say? He was right.
Tomas laughed mirthlessly. "How can I blame you? You put your trust in me once, and I lied to you. Anything I say now would only be words.”