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"Why should Cassandra help you?" Mircea asked, sounding as composed as if he and Tomas were having a polite conversation over tea. "What can you offer her that we cannot?"

Tomas glanced at Rafe. "The life of her old friend, for one." His eyes turned back to me. "I will guarantee Raphael's safety, Cassie, if you aid us. Otherwise, Tony has requested the right to deal with him personally for acting as Mircea's informant. You are aware what that will mean?"

"I don't get it," I told him honestly. "We lived together for months. If you were going to betray me, why not do it then? Why now?"

"I did not betray you," Tomas said intently. "Think about it. Mircea almost let you get killed; why do you trust him? Did he keep you safe? Was he there when you were attacked? I saved you; not him! And I was the one who realized that Rasputin could be the answer for both of us." He looked at me beseechingly. "Don't you see? Once Louis-César is dead, I can challenge Alejandro again, and this time I will defeat him! As it is, much of my strength has to go into resisting my master's will; it weakens me too much to do what must be done. But that burden will be lifted by the Frenchman's death, and I can then save my people. And afterwards, you will never again have to worry about anyone harming you. As Consul, I can do more than merely promise protection. I can deliver!"

"You contacted Rasputin? When?"

"After your first vision, when I knew for certain what you can do. I called Tony and offered to hand you over, but only to Rasputin. He promised to guarantee your life in exchange for my aid. Since his plans coincided with mine, I agreed."

"Rafe told you I'd go after Jimmy, and you told Tony." I said it, but I didn't believe it.

Tomas saw the hurt in my expression, and his softened. "I had to tell him you were going to Dante's, Cassie. If there was no deal and they found you first, you might have died."

"I almost died because they knew where I'd be, Tomas! They ambushed us."

He shook his head. "I was there to ensure your safety. You were in no danger—it was Louis-César they wanted. When he is gone, Mei Ling will not be a problem."

"Tomas!" I wanted to scream at his obtuseness. How could anyone live half a millennium and be that stupid? "Rasputin doesn't need me! Don't you get it? He already has a sybil who does whatever he wants. The only thing he wants me to do is die!"

"Very perceptive, Miss Palmer." Pritkin entered the room with guns drawn. I had forgotten about him. I guess everyone else had, too. He kept his eyes on Tomas but spoke to me. "It would seem that we are allies—for the moment. I'll keep him here, but I suggest you hurry. There are ten black knights outside. I have constructed a few surprises they do not have advance warning about, but they will not hold for long. They will be here in a matter of minutes."

"Our wards will hold!" Rafe said proudly. "The traitor could not give them the secrets of the inner wards; he did not know them."

Pritkin gave his usual sneer. "Believe what you like, vampire, but we have training exercises more difficult than your so-called defenses! If she does not act, the sybil will die and there will be nothing to stop the Senate from being replaced by one allied with the dark." He kept his eyes and his weapons steady on Tomas, but again he spoke to me. "If you can do anything, do it now."

"I don't know how!" I ran a hand through my hair, wanting to pull some of it out in frustration, and met up with something solid. My fingers curled around the hair clip Louis-César had given me when tending my cheek. It had somehow managed to hang in there all this time. I concentrated and felt a faint tingle, a distant echo of the disorientation that preceded a vision, but it wasn't enough. It had belonged to him, had been in contact with his body, so it should have worked as a focus the same way he had. But either I wasn't strong enough to make the leap with only an object, or he hadn't owned it very long and the link was weak. Either way, I needed help.

"Billy! I need something called the Tears of Apollo."

"Okay, and this would be where?"

I looked up at Mircea. "The Tears! What do they look like and where are they?"

"In the inner sanctum, in a small bottle, crystal with a blue stopper. But if we enter the chamber, Tomas will know the way. These four hallways are the last barrier. Three are false and lead only to death. Only one leads to the Consul. Once she is dead, our cause is lost."

Billy had drifted over as we spoke. "There's only one real passageway, Cass. The others are just good glamourie. I'll be right back."

"Cassie, don't do this!" Tomas looked daggers at Mircea. "He will never let you go! If you truly want freedom, help me." I shook my head and his face grew desperate. "Please, Cassie, you can't refuse! You don't understand—Alejandro is a monster! I have begged Louis-César to free me. I have told him what atrocities Alejandro has done, what he will continue to do until someone stops him, yet he refuses."

"I can't believe he won't help you. I could try—"

"Cassie! If I could not sway him in a century of pleading, why do you think he would listen to you? Alejandro has some sort of hold over him. He has something Louis-César wants and has promised it to him if he keeps me under control. I have thought about this for years and there is no other way. Alejandro must die, and therefore so must his champion."

I looked into the fervent light in Tomas' eyes and saw that he meant every word he was saying. He might want to be Consul, but he also really wanted this Alejandro dead. For all I knew, maybe the guy deserved what Tomas obviously wanted to dish out. But that wasn't up to me to decide. "I won't trade one person's life for another's, Tomas. I can't let you murder Louis-César. I'm not God, and neither are you."

Tomas gestured violently at Mircea. "Why can't you see that he only wants to use you? If you did not have your powers, you would mean nothing to him!"

"And what would I mean to you, if I couldn't help you gain the consulate?"

Tomas smiled, and it transformed his face, making him look boyish and adorable again. Like my Tomas. "You know how I feel about you, Cassie. I will give you security and peace. What can he offer?"

I was about to point out that he hadn't answered the question, when Billy came streaming back, a small bottle clutched in one insubstantial hand. "I hope you don't need nothin' else, Cass, 'cause I'm outta juice." He dropped the Tears in my palm, and the tiny bottle was surprisingly heavy.

I slid out the stopper just as Tomas lunged, not at me as I'd half expected, but at Rafe. Pritkin fired, but the shotgun blast was stopped by the heavy wards of the chamber and deflected back on him. His shields held, but his gun ended up a twisted mass of steaming metal and he was thrown back against the wall, hard.

"Give me the Tears, Cassie." Tomas held out one hand; the other had Rafe in a stranglehold. "Mircea can't protect all of you at the same time, but no one has to get hurt. Help me and I'll let him go."

I didn't have to worry about finding an answer. Tomas had, once again, underestimated the mage. I guess he thought that, with the wards rendering magical weapons and firearms useless, Pritkin couldn't be much of a threat. He found out differently when the mage jumped up, drew a cord out of his pocket and slipped it around Tomas' throat. A garrote may be crude, but it works.

Tomas let go of Rafe and Mircea didn't waste any time pushing him towards the doorway Billy had exited. Rafe had barely cleared it when the chamber's wards failed and a whole crowd of people muscled in. Pritkin yelled something and let go, pushing Tomas towards them. Mircea clutched me tight and, in the time it takes to blink, we were inside another hallway, running full out. I felt the passageway's wards slam shut behind us and got a glimpse of the scene in the outer chamber over Mircea's shoulder. Tomas was slumped on the ground, a hand to his throat, gagging. Behind him were some humans wearing enough weapons to tell me as clearly as if they'd had it tattooed on their foreheads that they were war mages. I had a glimpse of Pritkin, face distorted in a snarl as he faced them; then we rounded a corner and were in the inner sanctum.