Aber howled, “Oberon! You don't know what you're saying! You don't know what you're offering! She'll drink you dry!”

“Never!” Rhalla vowed fiercely. “I will take only what I need, no more!”

“I believe her,” I said.

“Her kind has a barbed tongue,” Aber went on, glaring up at us. “They drink the blood of men who take them to bed. She will feed on you every night until you are too weak to resist, then she will reveal her true form.”

“True form?” I asked.

“You would not like it,” she said, and for once she refused to meet my gaze. “I much prefer this one. It is… elegant.”

Aber climbed to his feet. “I never thought a succubus would dare to feed on a Lord of Chaos—you must kill her, for that insult alone!”

I looked at Rhalla again, and this time she turned her eyes toward mine. In those depths I thought I saw a warmth, a spark of love for me. I believed she really did care for me. Just as I had begun to care for her…

She said, “Oberon… you must believe me… I mean you no harm.”

“Why not?” Aber demanded, voice shrill. “You're an assassin! You were sent to kill him! Admit it!”

“Go on,” I told her softly. I took her hand and pressed it to my lips. “Tell me the truth. It doesn't matter if you came to kill me. My feelings for you won't change. But I must know.”

“If I wanted him dead, he would be dead already!” she snapped at Aber. “I had plenty of time to kill him… but I did not.”

“Your mark is on him!” he said.

“I mark all who take me to bed. It is a sign of love!”

“Love? Hah! Your kind cannot love!”

She spat at him. “We love more fiercely than you will ever know. You are unworthy of such love!”

Aber's face grew flushed, and his hands knotted into fists. “How dare you—” he began. I had never seen him so lost for words. “How dare you—”

“Don't spit on the carpets,” I murmured to Rhalla. “They're expensive.” Then, turning to Aber, I said, “And you're exaggerating the problem.”

Aber shook his head. “You're mad,” he said in a hurt voice. “She has you bewitched. When Dad finds out—”

“I know what I'm doing,” I said. “I'm not a child in the first flush of love.”

“You're acting that way!”

“Trust me.”

He shook his head, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Let me kill her, if you can't do it. She's a spy and an assassin. She's dangerous. She will kill you in your sleep. It is her nature.”

“We all have to die sometime,” I said, “and I can think of many worse ways than in bed with a beautiful woman.”

“This isn't a game, Oberon.”

“No,” I said firmly, “it is a game—a very dangerous game. But it's necessary if we're going to find out what's really going on.” I put my arm around Rhalla's shoulders. “She told you she will not kill me. I believe her. That's the end of it.”

“Thank you,” Rhalla said.

Aber stared from one of us to the other. “You are mad. Both of you. This cannot be permitted—”

I kissed Rhalla. “Go into the next room. Let me speak to my brother alone.”

“Yes, Oberon,” she said demurely. With a triumphant glance in his direction, she turned and hurried through the little door at the back of the room.

Aber stared at me like I'd just grown a second head. “Don't do this, Oberon. She's toying with you. She wants something, and it's not your love. She'll kill you when she's ready.”

“If I were so easy to kill,” I said, “I would have died years ago. That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger, they say.”

“No. I've seen her kind before, Oberon. She will work on you slowly. You'll grow pale and weak, you'll lose your will to fight, and then you'll die.” He set his feet stubbornly. “I'm not going to let that happen!”

“She can no longer be a lover to me,” I said in a low voice, glancing at the door. It was firmly shut; I knew she couldn't hear us talking. “I know that. You've ruined her for me. Now she is just a tool… and I will use her to get to our enemies.”

He shook his head, and I could tell he didn't believe me. “I don't want to have to explain to Dad how you ended up with a succubus in your bed,” he said. “I know I can't stop you. But be careful, okay? Watch who you let into your room and your bed.”

“I'll tell Dad everything myself when he gets back,” I promised. Then I cleared my throat. “And, speaking of letting people into my room ... I don't recall Port announcing you. How did you get in here?”

Aber stared at me like I had sprouted two extra heads. “How can you care when—”

“I do.” I smiled pointedly. “Just taking your advice to heart, dear brother. I can't have people barging in on me at all hours of the day and night, after all. Now, where's that Trump? I want it. Now.”

He crossed back to the spot by the door where I'd first noticed him. There, he bent and picked up what looked like a small Tarot card. He must have dropped it when he saw Rhalla.

He returned and silently handed it to me. It was smaller than the other Trumps I had seen, but like the others it felt cool and smooth, as though carved from bone or ivory. Though the rendering was crude, one side showed my bedroom to the smallest detail, from the high canopied bed to the wash stand and looking glass. The back had been painted a simple gold color, without the rampant lion design in the middle. I had never seen a Trump like this one before.

“Whose is it?” I asked.

“Mine.”

I raised my eyebrows. “It doesn't match your other Trumps.” I flipped it over and held it up. “And you're a better artist than this.”

“It was one of the very first I made, when I was ten or so. I used to use it to sneak in here and visit Mattus late at night. I dug it out when I wanted to check on you—it's the only one I had for this room.” He shrugged. “For all the thanks I got…”

I snorted, then tossed the Trump onto my bed. “Yes, I'm ungrateful. I'll keep it, if you don't mind.”

“I do mind. Dad won't be happy,” he said, folding his arms stubbornly. “I'm supposed to be watching you.”

“You're not doing a very good job of it, and a Trump of my bedroom isn't going to help. Besides, I value my privacy. You can have it back when I'm not sleeping here any more.”

“But how can I watch you if you lock the door?”

“I have to have some way to keep the monsters out.”

“Or in!”

I chuckled. “That, too.”

“You're the most conceited brother I've got. And that's saying a lot.”

“Port!” I called.

The face appeared in the middle of the door. “Yes, Lord Oberon?”

“My brother is not to be admitted inside my rooms unannounced,” I said. “If you see him appear inside through magical means, give a warning shout, will you?”

“Very good, sir.”

“And open up for him, will you? He's just leaving.”

Aber sighed and shook his head in frustration.

“It's all right,” I told him. Stepping forward, I clasped his shoulder and gently turned him toward the door. “Neither Rhalla nor I meant any insult to you. I know you're trying to look out for me. Go downstairs. I'll join you for breakfast in five minutes. Wait for me.”

As my door unlocked itself and swung open, he stomped out into the hallway, muttering about insanity running in our family.

He was probably right. Every member of our family seemed to have more than his fair share of problems. Our father was a compulsive liar. Aber felt a constant need to prove himself. My sisters Blaise and Freda were obsessed with spying on each other—and on everyone else. Even Locke, supposedly such a great and noble warrior, the best of us all, had been a petty, paranoid, jealous, and thoroughly obnoxious prig, unwilling to accept anyone who might threaten his favored status as firstborn son. That's why he had hated me. That's why he had prevented our father from bringing me to Juniper to join the rest of our family until it was almost too late.