John looked at her steadily, hoping she would come over and pull down the gag again. After several minutes she came to sit by the chair. He made a series of insistent sounds behind the gag until she reached up and pulled it down.

"Pure, I want to help you and Decree and your baby, but I can't do it like this."

"He'll kill me if I let you go." She sobbed out the words. "Or he'll give me to Raze. Do you know what Raze thinks he is? A vampire." That made her cry harder.

The door rolled up, and she screamed.

Jamys Durand and Dougall Hurley came in. Hurley closed the door quickly, and Jamys drew a dagger. He walked past the cringing Pure and used the dagger to cut John free of the duct tape binding him to the chair. Then he handed John the dagger and bent down to touch Pure's neck. The girl's eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped over on her side.

"What did you do to her?" John demanded.

"About what he did to me," Hurley said. He was pale and wide-eyed, a man who had received a healthy shock. "You know this kid has fangs?"

John flinched as Jamys reached out to him, and then felt an instant warmth where the boy touched him on the arm.

I only told her to go to sleep, a young male voice said inside John's head. Alexandra is all right; she wasn't burned in the fire, but she and Michael and Valentin are in great danger. I can't speak and they can't hear me in their minds like this. Only humans can. Dougall will go with us, but he cannot tolerate my talent. I need your help.

"Help to do what?" John felt dizzy.

"Stop the Bones," Hurley said. "Crazy little fuckers are going to commit mass murder. Or so Fang here says."

Inside John's head, Jamys said, They're going to kill Michael and your sister for the Brethren. Tonight, at the lake.

* * *

Jema didn't fall asleep until Thierry left her, just before dawn. She remembered telling him about Valentin Jaus's masque, and his promise to meet her there.

"We have much to discuss," he said as he bent down to kiss her good-bye. "I will see you tonight."

She had meant to ask him exactly where he would meet her, and if he'd wear a costume, but she was exhausted, and he was already at the window. He looked back at her, his golden eyes filled with love.

She fell asleep looking into them, but she didn't dream. She didn't have to.

Daniel came three hours later to wake her, and scolded her, but she barely paid any attention to him or the two injections he gave her. She only glanced down, frowning when he gave her the second.

"Another vitamin shot," he explained. "I think it'll be the last one you need. You look much better this morning."

She ate breakfast alone, and decided not to go in to work. She had to meet Thierry at the masque tonight, and she wanted to look her best. So Jema went back to bed, sleeping away the afternoon until it was time for dinner. Micki, the upstairs maid, brought her a tray before she could go down.

"Your mother thought you might like to have this in bed," Micki explained. "She also said you should be ready to leave with her and Dr. Bradford for the party at Mr. Jaus's in an hour."

"Were they invited, too?" Jema couldn't remember Valentin Jaus asking her mother or the doctor to attend.

"Yes, ma'am," Micki said. "I brought up your costume and hung it in the closet, so it's there when you're ready to dress."

Jema picked at her dinner, forcing down enough to balance her evening injection, and then took a long, leisurely shower. She took time with her hair and makeup—the cuts and bruises looked better today, but still needed covering up—before she dressed in the midnight-blue costume Jaus had hired for her.

It was a gorgeous ball gown made of stiff satin with a cobweb of matching lace over the full skirt. Tiny, teardrop-shaped crystals spangled the entire dress, which glittered subtly with her every movement. It was a little big at the waist and hips, but not enough to be noticed.

Jema left her hair loose and wore only a pair of small diamond studs in her ears. The gown came with elbow-length midnight-blue gloves, which she tried on and decided she liked, as they disguised the thinness of her arms.

Will Thierry think I'm pretty? She braved her reflection to study it. The blue did great things for her skin, and the makeup lent more color to her face. The red on her cheeks deepened as she remembered how he had loved her that last time, just before he left.

Earlier Thierry had carried her into the bathroom, but instead of turning on the shower he had filled the tub with warm water and some of her herbal bath salts.

"Don't you want to take a shower?" she asked. "It's faster."

"Let me do this. I wanted to one night when I saw you getting ready for bed," he told her as he picked her up and stepped into the tub, easing down into the water with her on top of him.

"You Peeping Tom." She braced herself against his chest with her arms and sat up, pretending to be indignant. "You saw me undress."

"I did not peep. I watched. I watched everything you did, as often as I could." He stroked her breast with the backs of his fingers. "It was a shameful thing, but I could not look away. My eyes wanted nothing more than to be filled with you."

She bent down to whisk a kiss across his mouth. "Before you filled my dreams."

He held her there, washing her first, and then tossing aside the cloth to use his hands on her. His slick fingers cupped her above and below, one thumb working over her nipple while the other exposed her clit. "I want more things. I wanted to take you while you slept."

"Thierry." Her breath caught in her throat.

"It would have been so easy to pull up your nightgown, spread your thighs, and put myself in you." He made the water splash around them as he lifted her up. "I wanted you to wake up while I was deep inside you, stroking you." He brought her down, impaling her with his thick, rigid penis until she took every inch of him. "The night I found you naked," he murmured as she trembled with a fast, helpless climax, "I almost did."

That memory made her thighs clench. It made her think of the things she wanted to do to him the next time she had him naked. Like taking him in her mouth again. Having him wake up while she was sucking him.

Jema looked down, and saw she had a death grip on the edge of the counter. She'd have to change her panties now; they were soaked through. Stop thinking about sex.

She knew there were other, equally important things that they would need to talk about. How he had entered her dreams, for one thing. Also, the fact that he thought he was a vampire, and that she had a terminal condition. The latter worried her the most. She didn't care if he really was a seven-hundred-year-old demon, or a Templar under a curse, or only a slightly delusional man who thought he was. Thierry could be anything, and she'd love him. But would he still love her if he knew that she was dying?

Yes. He would, her heart answered.

Just before it was time to leave for the masque, Jema walked downstairs and went into the sitting room where Meryl and Daniel were waiting.

"You look gorgeous, Mother." She admired Meryl's all-white Snow Queen ensemble. She laughed out loud when she saw Daniel Bradford, who was dressed as a mad scientist. "What's this? You look like Dr. Frankenstein."

"How do you know I'm not?" Daniel said, waggling his hairy false gray eyebrows.

Meryl made an irritable sound. "Can we go now, please? I'd rather not be late."

Valentin Jaus's mansion was a beacon of light on the lake-front. Jema caught her breath as she saw that the walks and drives were illuminated by thousands of dark blue candles in crystal holders. Overhead, silvery blue metallic streamers hung from the trees, dangling crystal spiders, ghosts, and bats.

"What a strange choice of colors for Halloween," Daniel said as he escorted Meryl and Jema up the walk to the front of Derabend Hall. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone go with an all-blue theme."

Other guests were arriving for the masque, and Jema patted herself on the back for asking Jaus to find a costume for her when she saw how beautifully dressed his friends were.

One couple wore Renaissance Italian-aristocrat costumes, heavily embroidered with dark metallic threads and bloodred faux gemstones. The woman's curly raven hair had been piled high in a tower of glossy ringlets, while the man had his brown hair in a short, intricate braid. Both wore stiff black satin masks outlined in golden and crimson thread.

Everyone wore a mask, which reminded Jema to put on the little blue satin strip of cloth that had come with the dress. Tying it over her eyes made her feel a bit like Zorro, but she was glad it covered her bruises. Makeup didn't hide everything.

"Mademoiselle," someone said, and she looked up to see a dark-haired giant dressed in a merchant's costume bow to her. "We are humbled by your beauty." His German accent emphasized the deep bass of his voice. "Suzerain Jaus could not have chosen a lovelier lady to grace his garden."

"Hello." Before she could introduce herself and correct his assumption, the man bowed and walked ahead of them. A petite redheaded woman dressed as a Harlequin looked back at Jema with open curiosity before she hurried to catch up to the dark merchant.

"What's a suzerain?" Daniel asked her.

"It's an old word that means 'lord,'" she said, frowning. "It hasn't been used since medieval times. Maybe it has something to do with the masque."

Meryl's mouth twisted as she eyed two men dressed in light armor, who were carrying authentic-looking sheathed swords at their sides. "All these costumes are ridiculous. Don't these Europeans know anything about Halloween?"

"I believe they invented it," was Daniel's tongue-in-cheek reply.

Valentin Jaus came to greet them at the door. He wore the costume of a prince, in the same shade of midnight blue as Jema's, with glittering silver epaulets and mock medals and ribbons fashioned out of crystal. His fair hair had been tied back in an old-fashioned queue that made the strong lines of his face seem more majestic than ever. He bowed to Meryl and Daniel, and then smiled and kissed the back of Jema's hand.