The only jarring note was the sweep of gold-red hair. For some reason, I couldn't seem to stop staring at it. I kept wanting to think of him as the man I knew, the one I occasionally called friend, but the hair wouldn't let me. I glared at it resentfully, trying to come to grips with the rapid way my world had shifted. I'd already mourned our friendship, already dealt with his betrayal. Only to have to reevaluate him all over again, to start to trust—just to find out that I'd been right the first time.
It didn't matter if Pritkin had the Codex now or not. He'd written the damn thing. He'd known the spell to lift the geis all along, and just hadn't given it to me. And there was no way to excuse that. He didn't need to blow his cover. He could have pretended to find it in one of those old tomes; he could have pretended to rediscover it; he could have done a lot of things rather than stand by and watch Mircea die. But he'd said it himself: vampires were little better than demons in his book.
And the only good demon was a dead one.
I tamped down a surge of pure rage. I couldn't afford to explode now. If I didn't get that spell, Pritkin won and Mircea died. And neither of those was acceptable.
I was still glaring at him when he suddenly grabbed me by both arms. "The map! What did you do with it?"
"What map?"
He gave me a hard shake, which didn't help me think any better, if that was the intention. "The map to the location of the Codex!"
"I thought we were bidding on the Codex itself. Are you telling me they didn't have it?"
"They did not wish to bring it to the auction, in case someone tried to make off with it," he said, looking me over as though he thought I might have shoved the map down my cleavage. As if there was room for a napkin down there. "If you do not wish to suffer the indignity of a reveal spell, I suggest you give it to me now."
"I don't have it! And what indignity?"
Pritkin passed a hand over me, not touching, just hovering a few inches from the now inert silk. The dress glowed again briefly, but apparently it was out of gas because nothing happened. Nothing except that it suddenly became transparent—along with everything else I was wearing.
"What the hell?!" I jumped behind the fence post, which along with the poor light, was enough to act as pretty good cover. It didn't make me feel much better. "What kind of a lunatic are you?"
Pritkin didn't answer, although his jaw clenched a little more tightly. "Give me my property and I will reverse the spell."
"I told you already! I don't have it!"
With another brief hand wave and a muttered word, the fence post went transparent, too. I shrieked and went running down a line of wooden rails to the next stone post, Pritkin mirroring my actions on the other side. We stopped, facing each other, with the post between us. "Don't you dare!" I said, when he raised a hand.
"Then give me what I want!"
"Go to Hell!"
"I just came back," he snarled, and the post disappeared. Before I could run again, he jumped over the fence and a strong hand latched onto the back of my neck. I struggled, but I couldn't move, and I finally stopped.
I felt him drop his hand and step back. He must have knocked the mud off the orb, because its light suddenly danced on the glasslike rocks in front of me. The transparent stone and the orb light startled a small creature that had made a burrow under the post, sending it scurrying away into the dark.
I could feel Pritkin's gaze, ruthless and uncompromising and focused as it ran over the back of my body, like a phantom touch. I wanted to shift again so badly I could taste it, but even if it had been possible, where would I go? I needed the Codex, and Pritkin had it. At least he'd better have it, or I was going to kill him. Slowly.
"Turn around," he said after a moment.
I hugged the invisible fencepost, telling myself I was being stupid. Get it over with, and maybe he'll listen to you. Just do it and don't think about it—great advice, except that it was Pritkin and, despite everything, that made it different. Weirdly enough, I thought a stranger's eyes would have bothered me less.
"I don't have the map," I repeated, trying not to notice that it was really cold and that my body was reacting predictably.
"I regret that I cannot take your word for that," he said stiffly, and it almost sounded sincere. It also sounded implacable. When I still didn't move, I felt him come up behind me. "I find this distasteful. Do not make it more so by forcing me to search you physically." His tone left me in no doubt at all that he'd do it.
I took a deep breath. "I'll make you a deal. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
"What?" He sounded confused. I guess they didn't have that saying in English yet.
"Do the reveal thing on yourself and I'll turn around."
"I'm not hiding anything!"
"Neither am I! And fair is fair. Or are you just looking for an excuse to do that search?"
Pritkin muttered something that sounded fairly vicious. "My clothes are warded! Even if I wished to accede to your demand, it would not work on them."
"Then strip."
"I beg your pardon?" He sounded almost polite suddenly, as if he believed he couldn't possibly have heard right.
"Take them off."
"And let you curse me without protection?" I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the sneer in his voice.
"You'll still have your shields," I pointed out. "And if you're so worried that I might overpower you, keep your weapons on." There was silence for a long moment. "If you're any kind of gentleman, you'll do it," I added, getting desperate.
I held my breath, sure that it wouldn't work, that he couldn't possibly fall for that old line. But I guess it wasn't so old in the 1790s, because the next moment I heard more muffled swearing and the soft sounds of clothes being pulled off. "Very well," a pissed-off voice said after a few seconds. "Now will you turn around?"
"How do I know you really did it?"
"Are you questioning my honor?" He sounded incredulous.
"Let's just say I'm not feeling especially trusting. Make the post opaque again, and come around front. If you haven't lied to me, I'll step out from behind it and we'll get this over with."
Pritkin didn't bother to swear this time. The rocks suddenly went opaque and he stomped around in front of the post. He was carrying a gun in one hand and still wearing a knife in a sheath strapped to one calf, but he hadn't bothered with the rest. I guess that was meant to make a point about how unlikely my beating him in a fight would be.
"Now keep your part of the bargain," he said through gritted teeth. Or maybe he'd clamped them to keep them from chattering. He did look cold, I thought with no sympathy whatsoever.
I sized him up as green eyes glared at me past a curtain of red-gold hair. He made no attempt to cover himself. How noble. Then I got a good look at him, and my eyes widened. Despite the temperature, he didn't really have any reason for modesty.
"As soon as you turn around," I finally managed to say. He started to argue, but I raised an eyebrow. "It's only fair."
Pritkin threw up his hands, but he did turn around, flashing those fascinating dimples. This time I didn't pause to admire the view. As soon as his back was turned, I grabbed his clothes and the orb, tore open a ley line and disappeared.
Chapter 22
It hadn't been difficult to snag the line with the orb's help, especially when I already knew where it was. Getting anywhere, I soon discovered, was a little harder. With Mircea, I'd thought of the lines as rivers of power, but this one was more like the rapids, with bumps and currents and eddies battering me every which way.