The hospital had done three blood tests (two at my insistence since I was positive the prior results were incorrect), all of which showed I had not ingested any form of fungus, hallucinogenic or otherwise.

"Are you going to be OK with the séance we are supposed to go to tonight?" Sarah asked wearily as we slowly made our way up the dark back stairs to the upper floor. The pub was a popular one with the younger crowd, as evidenced by the large flat-screen TV blaring music videos. The building, however, was thankfully thick-walled, so the noise was muted on the second floor.

"You heard the doctor—I'm fine. Just a few bumps and bruises; nothing a couple of aspirin can't fix."

She paused at her door and gave me a concerned once-over. "I know, but I still feel like you should be in bed, not attending séances with me."

"Don't worry about it," I said with a careless wave that I felt far from feeling. "I wouldn't miss the opportunity for exposing some hokey medium."

"Portia!"

"I know, I know. I promised I'd go into this with an open mind. But I'm going to enjoy proving you wrong."

"There's that little matter of the cloud that followed you that you have yet to explain," she said with obnoxious cheerfulness.

"I explained it perfectly well. It was either the result of hallucination by a yet-as-undetermined source, hypnosis, or visual trickery."

"Smoke and mirrors, you mean?" she asked archly.

"Smugness ill becomes you," I said sternly, pulling my room key from my pocket. "I will offer scientific proof as to the non-existence of the cloud just as soon as I have soil from that faery ring analyzed. It could well be that there are elements at work other than possibly hallucinogenic fungi."

"Uh-huh. I'm willing to let you get away with this one because I've never heard of a cloud associated with a faery ring, but I'm not going to go so easy on you next time." Sarah smiled as she spoke, digging her key out of her camera bag. I rolled my eyes. "Dibs the bathtub first."

"You're mean," I answered, fitting my own key into the lock.

"You're not supposed to get your owies wet."

"I am not Tyler," I said with infinite dignity, despite the various bandages swathing my arms, hands, and one eyebrow. "He is six and an extremely precocious child whom you spoil shamelessly. I am just a friend who is subjected to your abuse under the guise of concern." I opened the door on the last of my words, flipped on the light, and stared with stunned disbelief at my room.

"Uh…Sarah?"

"Hmm?" She paused in her doorway, looking back at me.

"The kidnapper is here."

She stared at me for a moment, then hurried after me as I entered my room. "Oh! The nerve! I'll get the police—"

I snatched up the nearest item at hand to use as a weapon—which turned out to be a paperback Agatha Christie novel—and threw myself in front of Sarah, fully intending to protect my friend despite my injuries, as the deranged kidnapper moved toward her.

The man moved faster than I thought, however. He seemed to blur as he moved, one minute standing next to the chair on the opposite side of the room, the next in front of Sarah, his hand on the door to keep it from opening any further, his head tipped down so he could look her in the eyes.

"There is no need for you to call the authorities," he said in his deep, slightly Irish voice that contrasted so oddly with his dark skin and exotic eyes.

"There most certainly is!" Sarah protested.

I added my two cents, stalking forward with my book held in a threatening manner. "I'd say assault and kidnapping is grounds for arrest. The police were very interested in having a word with you. I'm sure they will be delighted to discuss the issue."

Sarah, to my surprise, did not knee the attacker, or even scream for help. Instead, she stood in front of him, her mouth slightly opened, an odd look of absorption on her face.

"Sarah," I said loudly, waving my book around.

Neither she nor the man gave me so much as a glance.

I moved next to them, peering first at him, then her. Their eyes were locked, their posture that of two lovers about to kiss.

It bothered me intensely that she would stand and gawk at an (admittedly handsome) insane criminal.

"Sarah? Hello?"

"You have nothing to fear from me," the man told her gently, and to my complete amazement, she nodded her head and closed the door.

"Oh my god, you're some sort of hypnotist, aren't you?" I told him, watching Sarah. Her eyes had a slightly dazed look to them, her breath coming with soft little panting sounds. She was blushing, as well, her cheeks pink with some strong emotion. "I insist that you stop this right now. I will not have you victimizing my friend."

"I…I'm glad," she said, ignoring me. She licked her lips nervously, her eyelashes fluttering as she sent him coy little glances.

"Sarah, stop it! Snap out of it!" I grabbed her shoulders and forcibly turned her toward me. Her head swiveled so she could continue to gaze at the man. I grabbed her chin and turned her face so she was looking at me. "Sarah!"

"Hello, Portia. It's all right. We don't have anything to fear from him." Her eyes were slightly dilated, but other than her strangely flustered state, she seemed to be all right.

Her words, however, made it clear she was far from in her right mind. "I'm going to take you back to the hospital," I said slowly, so she would understand. I looked over her shoulder to where the man stood. "And if you try to stop me, I will scream bloody murder and bring up everyone in the pub."

"I have saved your life," the man said, his brows pulling together in a frown.

Sarah smiled at him and nodded, a devoted look on her face. "He did. He saved us."

"There was nothing threatening us except you," I said firmly, trying to steer Sarah toward the door. "I will call the police from the pub downstairs. And if you try to kidnap us again—"

"Blast it, woman, I am not a kidnapper!" he exploded.

I took a few precautionary steps backward, glared at Sarah's head for a moment as she stood simmering at him, finally yanking her back to stand with me. "Look, you can yammer on about saving our lives all you want, but I know what I know."

"You know nothing," he said, scorn dripping from his voice. He stalked toward me, his black eyes fairly shooting sparks. I looked around quickly for a sturdier weapon than a book, but other than the bedside lamp, my room was horribly weapon-free. "I did save your life, and by the laws governing the Court of Divine Blood, I demand recompense in the form of exculpation."

Chapter 4

I felt behind me for the table lamp, grasping it firmly and shifting slightly to the side to hide the fact I was holding it. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was better than a paperback.

The man stopped in front of me, so close I could smell his woodsy aftershave.

"I want you to leave this room now," I said in a calm, but firm, voice. Beside me, Sarah made a slight noise of unhappiness. "I don't know anything about a court, but I do know that you have violated several laws, and the police are even now searching for you. If you leave right now, I will not harm you, but I am fully prepared to defend my friend and myself from you if you insist on attacking."

An annoyed look flitted across his face. "Stop saying that! I have not attacked you!"

"You strangled me!" I answered, part of my mind pointing out that reason never worked with deranged madmen, but too irritated to listen. "I almost died! If that's not an attack, I'd like to know what is!"

"I told you—that was before I knew you were mortal," he snapped, irritation replacing the annoyance.

I waved the book around in a vaguely threatening manner. "I'd just like to know what you think I could be if not mortal!"